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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/39179-8.txt b/39179-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..12b227f --- /dev/null +++ b/39179-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,15337 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pencillings by the Way, by N. Parker Willis + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license + + +Title: Pencillings by the Way + Written During Some Years of Residence and Travel in Europe + +Author: N. Parker Willis + +Release Date: March 17, 2012 [EBook #39179] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PENCILLINGS BY THE WAY *** + + + + +Produced by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have + been preserved. The author's use of accents was retained as printed. + Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. + + Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. + + + + + PENCILLINGS BY THE WAY: + + WRITTEN + DURING SOME YEARS OF RESIDENCE AND TRAVEL + IN + EUROPE. + + BY + N. PARKER WILLIS. + + + NEW YORK: + CHARLES SCRIBNER, 124 GRAND STREET. + + MDCCCLX. + + + + + Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, by + CHARLES SCRIBNER, + + In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United + States for the Southern District of New York. + + + + +PREFACE. + + +A word or two of necessary explanation, dear reader. + +I had resided on the Continent for several years, and had been a year +in England, without being suspected, I believe, in the societies in +which I lived, of any habit of authorship. No production of mine had +ever crossed the water, and my Letters to the New-York Mirror, were +(for this long period, and I presumed would be forever), as far as +European readers were concerned, an unimportant and easy secret. +Within a few months of returning to this country, the Quarterly Review +came out with a severe criticism on the Pencillings by the Way, +published in the New-York Mirror. A London publisher immediately +procured a broken set of this paper from an American resident there, +and called on me with an offer of £300 for an immediate edition of +what he had--rather less than one half of the Letters in this present +volume. This chanced on the day before my marriage, and I left +immediately for Paris--a literary friend most kindly undertaking to +look over the proofs, and suppress what might annoy any one then +living in London. The book was printed in three volumes, at about $7 +per copy, and in this expensive shape three editions were sold by the +original publisher. After his death a duodecimo edition was put forth, +very beautifully illustrated; and this has been followed by a fifth +edition lately published, with new embellishments, by Mr. Virtue. The +only American edition (long ago out of print) was a literal copy of +this imperfect and curtailed book. + +In the present complete edition, the Letters objected to by the +Quarterly, are, like the rest, re-published _as originally written_. +The offending portions must be at any rate, harmless, after being +circulated extensively in this country in the Mirror, and prominently +quoted from the Mirror in the Quarterly--and this being true, I have +felt that I could gratify the wish to be put _fairly on trial_ for +these alleged offences--to have a comparison instituted between my +sins, in this respect, and Hamilton's, Muskau's, Von Raumer's, +Marryat's and Lockhart's--and so, to put a definite value and meaning +upon the constant and vague allusions to these iniquities, with which +the critiques of my contemporaries abound. I may state as a fact, that +the only instance in which a quotation by me from the conversation of +distinguished men gave the least offence in England, was the one +remark made by Moore the poet at a dinner party, on the subject of +O'Connell. It would have been harmless, as it was designed to be, but +for the unexpected celebrity of my Pencillings; yet with all my heart +I wished it unwritten. + +I wish to put on record in this edition (and you need not be at the +trouble of perusing them unless you please, dear reader!) an extract +or two from the London prefaces to "Pencillings," and parts of two +articles written apropos of the book's offences. + +The following is from the Preface to the first London edition:-- + +"The extracts from these Letters which have appeared in the public +prints, have drawn upon me much severe censure. Admitting its justice +in part, perhaps I may shield myself from its remaining excess by a +slight explanation. During several years' residence in Continental and +Eastern countries, I have had opportunities (as _attaché_ to a foreign +Legation), of seeing phases of society and manners not usually +described in books of travel. Having been the Editor, before leaving +the United States, of a monthly Review, I found it both profitable and +agreeable, to continue my interest in the periodical in which that +Review was merged at my departure, by a miscellaneous correspondence. +Foreign courts, distinguished men, royal entertainments, &c. +&c.,--matters which were likely to interest American readers more +particularly--have been in turn my themes. The distance of America +from these countries, and the ephemeral nature and usual obscurity of +periodical correspondence, were a sufficient warrant to my mind, that +the descriptions would die where they first saw the light, and fulfil +only the trifling destiny for which they were intended. I indulged +myself, therefore, in a freedom of detail and topic which is usual +only in posthumous memoirs--expecting as soon that they would be read +in the countries and by the persons described, as the biographer of +Byron and Sheridan, that these fruitful and unconscious themes would +rise from the dead to read their own interesting memoirs! And such a +resurrection would hardly be a more disagreeable surprise to that +eminent biographer, than was the sudden appearance to me of my own +unambitious Letters in the Quarterly Review. + +"The reader will see (for every Letter containing the least personal +detail has been most industriously republished in the English papers) +that I have in some slight measure corrected these Pencillings by the +Way. They were literally what they were styled--notes written on the +road, and despatched without a second perusal; and it would be +extraordinary if, between the liberty I felt with my material, and the +haste in which I scribbled, some egregious errors in judgment and +taste had not crept in unawares. The Quarterly has made a long arm +over the water to refresh my memory on this point. There _are_ +passages I would not re-write, and some remarks on individuals which I +would recall at some cost, and would not willingly see repeated in +these volumes. Having conceded thus much, however, I may express my +surprise that this particular sin should have been visited upon _me_, +at a distance of three thousand miles, when the reviewer's own +literary fame rests on the more aggravated instance of a book of +personalities, published under the very noses of the persons +described. Those of my Letters which date from England were written +within three or four months of my first arrival in this country. +Fortunate in my introductions, almost embarrassed with kindness, and, +from advantages of comparison, gained by long travel, qualified to +appreciate keenly the delights of English society, I was little +disposed to find fault. Everything pleased me. Yet in one +instance--one single instance--I indulged myself in stricture upon +individual character, and I _repeat it in this work_, sure that there +will be but one person in the world of letters who will not read it +with approbation--the editor of the _Quarterly_ himself. It was +expressed at the time with no personal feeling, for I had never seen +the individual concerned, and my name had probably never reached his +ears. I but repeated what I had said a thousand times, and never +without an indignant echo to its truth--an opinion formed from the +most dispassionate perusal of his writings--that the editor of that +Review was the most unprincipled critic of his age. Aside from its +flagrant literary injustice, we owe to the _Quarterly_, it is well +known, every spark of ill-feeling that has been kept alive between +England and America for the last twenty years. The sneers, the +opprobrious epithets of this bravo in literature, have been received +in a country where the machinery of reviewing was not understood, as +the voice of the English people, and an animosity for which there was +no other reason, has been thus periodically fed and exasperated. I +conceive it to be my duty as a literary man--I _know_ it is my duty as +an American--to lose no opportunity of setting my heel on the head of +this reptile of criticism." + +The following is part of an article, written by myself, on the subject +of personalities, for a periodical in New York: + +"There is no question, I believe, that pictures of living society, +where society is in very high perfection, and of living persons, where +they are 'persons of mark,' are both interesting to ourselves, and +valuable to posterity. What would we not give for a description of a +dinner with Shakspeare and Ben Jonson--of a dance with the Maids of +Queen Elizabeth--of a chat with Milton in a morning call? We should +say the man was a churl, who, when he had the power, should have +refused to 'leave the world a copy' of such precious hours. Posterity +will decide who are the great of our time--but they are at least +_among_ those I have heard talk, and have described and quoted, and +who would read without interest, a hundred years hence, a character of +the second Virgin Queen, caught as it was uttered in a ball-room of +her time? or a description of her loveliest Maid of Honor, by one who +had stood opposite her in a dance, and wrote it before he slept? or a +conversation with Moore or Bulwer?--when the Queen and her fairest +maid, and Moore and Bulwer have had their splendid funerals, and are +dust, like Elizabeth and Shakspeare? + +"The harm, if harm there be in such sketches, is in the spirit in +which they are done. If they are ill-natured or untrue, or if the +author says aught to injure the feelings of those who have admitted +him to their confidence or hospitality, he is to blame, and it is +easy, since he publishes while his subjects are living, to correct his +misrepresentations, and to visit upon him his infidelities of +friendship. + +"But (while I think of it), perhaps some fault-finder will be pleased +to tell me, why this is so much deeper a sin in _me_ than in all other +travellers. Has Basil Hall any hesitation in describing a dinner party +in the United States, and recording the conversation at table? Does +Miss Martineau stick at publishing the portrait of a distinguished +American, and faithfully recording all he says in a confidential +_tête-à-tête_? Have Captain Hamilton and Prince Pukler, Von Raumer and +Captain Marryat, any scruples whatever about putting down anything +they hear that is worth the trouble, or of describing any scene, +private or public, which would tell in their book, or illustrate a +national peculiarity? What would their books be without this class of +subjects? What would any book of travels be, leaving out everybody the +author saw, and all he heard? Not that I justify all these authors +have done in this way, for I honestly think they have stepped over the +line, which I have but trod close upon." + +Surely it is the _abuse_, and not the _use_ of information thus +acquired, that makes the offence. + +The most formal, unqualified, and severe condemnation recorded against +my Pencillings, however, is that of the renowned Editor of the +Quarterly, and to show the public the immaculate purity of the forge +where this long-echoed thunder is manufactured, I will quote a passage +or two from a book of the same description, by the Editor of the +Quarterly himself. 'Peter's Letters to his Kinsfolk,' by Mr. Lockhart, +are three volumes exclusively filled with portraits of persons, living +at the time it was written in Scotland, their conversation with the +author, their manners, their private histories, etc., etc. In one of +the letters upon the 'Society of Edinburgh,' is the following delicate +passage:-- + +"'Even you, my dear Lady Johnes, are a perfect history in every branch +of knowledge. I remember, only the last time I saw you, you were +praising with all your might the legs of Col. B----, those flimsy, +worthless things that look as if they were bandaged with linen rollers +from the heel to the knee. You may say what you will, but I still +assert, and I will prove it if you please by pen and pencil, that, +with one pair of exceptions, the best legs in Cardigan are Mrs. +P----'s. As for Miss J---- D----'s, I think they are frightful.'... + +"Two pages farther on he says:-- + +"'As for myself, I assure you that ever since I spent a week at Lady +L----'s and saw those great fat girls of hers, waltzing every night +with that odious De B----, I can not endure the very name of the +thing.' + +"I quote from the second edition of these letters, by which it appears +that even these are _moderated_ passages. A note to the first of the +above quotations runs as follows: + +"'A great part of this letter is omitted in the Second Edition in +consequence of the displeasure its publication gave to certain ladies +in Cardiganshire. As for the gentleman who chose to take what I said +of him in so much dudgeon, he will observe, that I have allowed what I +said to remain _in statu quo_, which I certainly should not have +done, had he expressed his resentment in a proper manner.' + +"So well are these unfortunate persons' names known by those who read +the book in England, that in the copy which I have from a circulating +library, they are all filled out in pencil. And I would here beg the +reader to remark that these are private individuals, compelled by no +literary or official distinction to come out from their privacy and +figure in print, and in this, if not in the _taste_ and _quality_ of +my descriptions, I claim a fairer escutcheon than my self-elected +judge--for where is a person's name recorded in my letters who is not +either by tenure of public office, or literary, or political +distinction, a theme of daily newspaper comment, and of course fair +game for the traveller. + +"I must give one more extract from Mr. Lockhart's book, an account of +a dinner with a private merchant of Glasgow. + +"'I should have told you before, that I had another visiter early in +the morning, besides Mr. H. This was a Mr. P----, a respectable +merchant of the place, also an acquaintance of my friend W----. He +came before H----, and after professing himself very sorry that his +avocations would not permit him to devote his forenoon to my service, +he made me promise to dine with him.... My friend soon joined me, and +observing from the appearance of my countenance that I was +contemplating the scene with some disgust,' (the Glasgow Exchange) 'My +good fellow,' said he, 'you are just like every other well-educated +stranger that comes into this town; you can not endure the first +sight of us mercantile whelps. Do not, however, be alarmed; I will not +introduce you to any of these cattle at dinner. No, sir! You must know +that there are a few men of refinement and polite information in this +city. I have warned two or three of these _raræ aves_, and depend upon +it, you shall have a very snug _day's work_.' So saying he took my +arm, and observing that five was _just on the chap_, hurried me +through several streets and lanes till we arrived in the ----, where +his house is situated. His wife was, I perceived, quite the fine lady, +and, withal, a little of the blue stocking. Hearing that I had just +come from Edinburgh, she remarked that Glasgow would be seen to much +more disadvantage after that elegant city. 'Indeed,' said she, 'a +person of taste, must, of course, find many disagreeables connected +with a residence in such a town as this; but Mr. P----'s business +renders the thing necessary for the present, and one can not make a +silk purse of a sow's ear--he, he, he!' Another lady of the company, +carried this affectation still farther; she pretended to be quite +ignorant of Glasgow and its inhabitants, although she had lived among +them the greater part of her life, and, by the by, seemed no chicken. +I was afterward told by my friend Mr. H----, that this damsel had in +reality sojourned a winter or two in Edinburgh, in the capacity of +_lick-spittle_ or _toad-eater_ to a lady of quality, to whom she had +rendered herself amusing by a malicious tongue; and that during this +short absence, she had embraced the opportunity of utterly forgetting +everything about the West country. + +"'The dinner was excellent, although calculated apparently for forty +people rather than sixteen, which last number sat down. While the +ladies remained in the room, there was such a noise and racket of +coarse mirth, ill restrained by a few airs of sickly sentiment on the +part of the hostess, that I really could neither attend to the wine +nor the dessert; but after a little time a very broad hint from a fat +Falstaff, near the foot of the table, apparently quite a privileged +character, thank Heaven! sent the ladies out of the room. The moment +after which blessed consummation, the butler and footman entered, as +if by instinct, the one with a huge punch bowl, _the other with, +&c._'" + +I do thank Heaven that there is no parallel in my own letters to +either of these three extracts. It is a thing of course that there is +not. They are violations of hospitality, social confidence, and +delicacy, of which even my abusers will allow me incapable. Yet this +man accuses me of all these things, and so runs criticism! + +And to this I add (to conclude this long Preface) some extracts from a +careful review of the work in the North American:-- + +"'Pencillings by the Way,' is a very spirited book. The letters out of +which it is constructed, were written originally for the New-York +'Mirror,' and were not intended for distinct publication. From this +circumstance, the author indulged in a freedom of personal detail, +which we must say is wholly unjustifiable, and we have no wish to +defend it. This book does not pretend to contain any profound +observations or discussions on national character, political +condition, literature, or even art. It would be obviously impossible +to carry any one of these topics thoroughly out, without spending +vastly more time and labor upon it than a rambling poet is likely to +have the inclination to do. In fact, there are very few men, who are +qualified, by the nature of their previous studies, to do this with +any degree of edification to their readers. But a man of general +intellectual culture, especially if he have the poetical imagination +superadded, may give us rapid sketches of other countries, which will +both entertain and instruct us. Now this book is precisely such a one +as we have here indicated. The author travelled through Europe, +mingling largely in society, and visited whatever scenes were +interesting to him as an American, a scholar, and a poet. The +impressions which these scenes made upon his mind, are described in +these volumes; and we must say, we have rarely fallen in with a book +of a more sprightly character, a more elegant and graceful style, and +full of more lively descriptions. The delineations of manners are +executed with great tact; and the shifting pictures of natural scenery +pass before us as we read, exciting a never-ceasing interest. As to +the personalities which have excited the wrath of British critics, we +have, as we said before, no wish to defend them; but a few words upon +the tone, temper, and motives, of those gentlemen, in their dealing +with our author, will not, perhaps, be considered inappropriate. + +"It is a notorious fact, that British criticism, for many years past, +has been, to a great extent, free from all the restraints of a regard +to literary truth. Assuming the political creed of an author, it would +be a very easy thing to predict the sort of criticism his writings +would meet with, in any or all of the leading periodicals of the +kingdom. This tendency has been carried so far, that even discussions +of points in ancient classical literature have been shaped and colored +by it. Thus, Aristophanes' comedies are turned against modern +democracy, and Pindar, the Theban Eagle, has been unceremoniously +classed with British Tories, by the London Quarterly. Instead of +inquiring 'What is the author's object? How far has he accomplished +it? How far is that object worthy of approbation?'--three questions +that are essential to all just criticism; the questions put by English +Reviewers are substantially 'What party does he belong to? Is he a +Whig, Tory, Radical, or is he an American?' And the sentence in such +cases depends on the answer to them. Even where British criticism is +favorable to an American author, its tone is likely to be haughty and +insulting; like the language of a condescending city gentleman toward +some country cousin, whom he is kind enough to honor with his +patronage. + +"Now, to critics of this sort, Mr. Willis was a tempting mark. No one +can for a moment believe that the London Quarterly, Frazer's Magazine, +and Captain Marryat's monthly, are honest in the language they hold +toward Mr. Willis. Motives, wide enough from a love of truth, guided +the conduct of these journals. The editor of the London Quarterly, it +is well known, is the author of 'Peter's Letters to his Kinsfolk,' a +work full of personalities, ten times more objectionable than +anything to be found in the 'Pencillings.' Yet this same editor did +not blush to write and print a long and most abusive tirade upon the +American traveller, for doing what he had himself done to a much +greater and more reprehensible extent; and, to cap the climax of +inconsistency, republished in his journal the very personalities, +names and all, which had so shocked his delicate sensibilities. It is +much more likely that a disrespectful notice of the London Quarterly +and its editor, in these 'Pencillings,' was the source from which this +bitterness flowed, than that any sense of literary justice dictated +the harsh review. Another furious attack on Mr. Willis's book appeared +in the monthly journal, under the editorial management of Captain +Marryat, the author of a series of very popular sea novels. Whoever +was the author of that article, ought to be held disgraced in the +opinions of all honorable men. It is the most extraordinary tissue of +insolence and coarseness, with one exception, that we have ever seen, +in any periodical which pretended to respectability of literary +character. It carries its grossness to the intolerable length of +attacking the private character of Mr. Willis, and throwing out +foolish sneers about his birth and parentage. It is this article which +led to the well-known correspondence, between the American Poet and +the British Captain, ending in a hostile meeting. It is to be +regretted that Mr. Willis should so far forget the principles of his +New England education, as to participate in a duel. We regard the +practice with horror; we believe it not only wicked, but absurd. We +can not possibly see how, Mr. Willis's tarnished fame could be +brightened by the superfluous work of putting an additional quantity +of lead into the gallant captain. But there is, perhaps, no disputing +about tastes; and, bad as we think the whole affair was, no candid man +can read the correspondence without feeling that Mr. Willis's part of +it, is infinitely superior to the captain's, in style, sense, dignity +of feeling, and manly honor. + +"But, to return to the work from which we have been partially drawn +aside. Its merits in point of style are unquestionable. It is written +in a simple, vigorous, and highly descriptive form of English, and +rivets the reader's attention throughout. There are passages in it of +graphic eloquence, which it would be difficult to surpass from the +writings of any other tourist, whatever. The topics our author +selects, are, as has been already stated, not those which require long +and careful study to appreciate and discuss; they are such as the +poetic eye would naturally dwell upon, and a poetic hand rapidly +delineate, in a cursory survey of foreign lands. Occasionally, we +think, Mr. Willis enters too minutely into the details of the +horrible. Some of his descriptions of the cholera, and the pictures he +gives us of the catacombs of the dead, are ghastly. But the manners of +society he draws with admirable tact; and personal peculiarities of +distinguished men, he renders with a most life-like vivacity. Many of +his descriptions of natural scenery are more like pictures, than +sketches in words. The description of the Bay of Naples will occur as +a good example. + +"It would be impossible to point out, with any degree of +particularity, the many passages in this book whose beauty deserves +attention. But it may be remarked in general, that the greater part of +the first volume is not so fresh and various, and animated, as the +second. This we suppose arises partly from the fact that France and +Italy have long been beaten ground. + +"The last part of the book is a statement of the author's observations +upon English life and society; and it is this portion, which the +English critics affect to be so deeply offended with. The most +objectionable passage in this is the account of a dinner at Lady +Blessington's. Unquestionably Mr. Moore's remarks about Mr. O'Connell +ought not to have been reported, considering the time when, and the +place where, they were uttered; though they contain nothing new about +the great Agitator, the secrets disclosed being well known to some +millions of people who interest themselves in British politics, and +read the British newspapers. We close our remarks on this work by +referring our readers to a capital scene on board a Scotch steamboat, +and a breakfast at Professor Wilson's, the famous editor of Blackwood, +both in the second volume, which we regret our inability to quote." + +"Every impartial reader must confess, that for so young a man, Mr. +Willis has done much to promote the reputation of American literature. +His position at present is surrounded with every incentive to a noble +ambition. With youth and health to sustain him under labor; with much +knowledge of the world acquired by travel and observation, to draw +upon; with a mature style, and a hand practised in various forms of +composition, Mr. Willis's genius ought to take a wider and higher +range than it has ever done before. We trust we shall meet him again, +ere long, in the paths of literature; and we trust that he will take +it kindly, if we express the hope, that he will lay aside those +tendencies to exaggeration, and to an unhealthy tone of sentiment, +which mar the beauty of some of his otherwise most agreeable books." + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + PAGE + LETTER I. + + Getting under Way--The Gulf Stream--Aspect of the Ocean-- + Formation of a Wave--Sea Gems--The Second Mate, 11 + + LETTER II. + + A Dog at Sea--Dining, with a High Sea--Sea Birds--Tandem of + Whales--Speaking a Man-of-War--Havre, 18 + + LETTER III. + + Havre--French Bed-room--The Cooking--Chance Impressions, 25 + + LETTER IV. + + Pleasant Companion--Normandy--Rouen--Eden of Cultivation--St. + Denis--Entrance to Paris--Lodgings--Walk of Discovery--Palais + Royal, 30 + + LETTER V. + + Gallery of the Louvre--Greenough--Feeling as a Foreigner-- + Solitude in the Louvre--Louis Philippe--The Poles--Napoleon + II, 40 + + LETTER VI. + + Taglioni--French Acting--French Applause--Leontine Fay, 48 + + LETTER VII. + + Lelewel--Pére La Chaise--Pauvre Marie--Versailles--The + Trianons--Josephine's Boudoir--Time and Money at Paris--Wives + and Fuel--One Price Shops, 53 + + LETTER VIII. + + Mr. Cooper--Mr. Greenough--Fighting Animals--The Dog Pit-- + Fighting Donkey--Sporting Englishmen, 63 + + LETTER IX. + + Malibran--Paris at a Late Hour--Glass Gallery--Cloud and + Sunshine--General Romarino--Parisian Students--Tumult Ended, 70 + + LETTER X. + + French Children--Royal Equipages--French Driving--City + Riding--Parisian Picturesque--Beggar's Deception--Genteel + Beggars, 78 + + LETTER XI. + + Madame Mars--Franklin's House--Ball for the Poor--Theatrical + Splendor--Louis Philippe--Duke of Orleans--Young Queen of + Portugal--Don Pedro--Close of the Ball, 86 + + LETTER XII. + + Champs Elysées--Louis Philippe--Literary Dinner--Bowring and + others--The Poles--Dr. Howe's Mission, 96 + + LETTER XIII. + + Club Gambling House--Frascati's--Female Gambler, 103 + + LETTER XIV. + + Tuileries--Men of Mark--Cooper and Morse--Contradictions-- + Dinner Hour--How to Dine Well, 107 + + LETTER XV. + + The Emperor--Turenne--Lady Officer--Gambling Quarrel--Curious + Antagonists--Influence of Paris, 114 + + LETTER XVI. + + Cholera Gaieties--Cholera Patient--Morning in Paris--Cholera + Hospital--New Patient--Physician's Indifference--Punch + Remedy--Dead Room--Non-Contagion, 121 + + LETTER XVII. + + Unexpected Challenge--Court Presentation--Louis Philippe-- + Royal Family at Tea--Countess Guiccioli--Mardi Gras--Bal + Costumé--Public Masks--Lady Cavalier--Ball at the Palace-- + Duke of Orleans--Dr. Bowring--Celebrated Men--Glass Verandah, 131 + + LETTER XVIII. + + Cholera--Social Tea Party--Recipe for Caution--Baths and + Happiness, 146 + + LETTER XIX. + + Bois de Boulogne--Guiccioli--Sismondi--Cooper, 151 + + LETTER XX. + + Friend of Lady Morgan--Dr. Spurzheim--Cast-Taking--De + Potter--David the Sculptor, 156 + + LETTER XXI. + + Attractions of Paris--Mr. Cooper--Mr. Rives, 162 + + LETTER XXII. + + Chalons--Sens--Auxerre--St. Bris--Three Views In One-- + Chalons, 166 + + LETTER XXIII. + + Boat on the Saone--Scenery above Lyons--Lyons--Churches at + Lyons--Monastery, 173 + + LETTER XXIV. + + Travelling Party--Breakfast on the Road--Localities of + Antiquity--Picturesque Chateau--French Patois, 179 + + LETTER XXV. + + Arles--The Cathedral--Marseilles--Parting with Companions-- + Pass of Ollioules--Toulon--Antibes--Coast of Mediterranean-- + Forced to Return--Lazaretto--Absurd Hindrances--Fear of + Contagion--Sleep out of Doors--Lazaretto Occupations-- + Delicious Sunday--New Arrivals--Companions--End of + Quarantine, 185 + + LETTER XXVI. + + Nice--Funeral of an Arch-Duchess--Nice to Genoa--Views-- + Entrance to Genoa--Genoa, 204 + + LETTER XXVII. + + The Venus--The Fornarina--A Coquette and the Arts--A + Festa--Ascension Day--The Cascine--Madame Catalani, 211 + + LETTER XXVIII. + + Titian's Bella--The Grand-Duchess--An Improvisatrice--Living + in Florence--Lodgings at Florence--Expense of Living, 219 + + LETTER XXIX. + + Companions--Scenery of Romagna--Wives--Bologna, 225 + + LETTER XXX. + + Gallery at Bologna--A Guido--Churches--Confession--Chapel-- + Festa--Agreeable Manners, 231 + + LETTER XXXI. + + Regatta--Venetian Sunset--Privileged Admission--Guillotining-- + Bridge of Sighs--San Marc--The Nobleman Beggar, 238 + + LETTER XXXII. + + An Evening in Venice--The Streets of Venice--The Rialto-- + Sunset from San Marc, 246 + + LETTER XXXIII. + + Titian's Pictures--Last Day in Venice, 251 + + LETTER XXXIV. + + Italian Civility--Juliet's Tomb--The Palace of the + Capuletti--A Dinner, 254 + + LETTER XXXV. + + Good and Ill-Breeding--Bridal Party, 259 + + LETTER XXXVI. + + Manner of Living--Originals of Novels--Ill, 262 + + LETTER XXXVII. + + The Duke of Lucca--Modena--The Palace--Bologna--Venice + Again--Its Splendor, 266 + + LETTER XXXVIII. + + Armenian Island--Agreeable Monk--Insane Hospital--Insane + Patients--The Lagune--State Galley--Instruments of Torture, 273 + + LETTER XXXIX. + + Venice at Evening--The Patriotism of a Noble--Church of St. + Antony--Petrarch's Cottage and Tomb--Petrarch's Room, 281 + + LETTER XL. + + Cultivation of the Fields--The Vintage--Malibran in Gazza + Ladra--Gallery of the Lambaccari, 287 + + LETTER XLI. + + Sienna--Catholic Devotion--Acquapendente--Lake Bolsena-- + Vintage Festa--Monte Cimino--First Sight of Rome--Baccano, 292 + + LETTER XLII. + + St. Peter's--The Apollo Belvidere--Raphael's + Transfiguration--The Pantheon--The Forum, 301 + + LETTER XLIII. + + The Falls of Tivoli--Villa of Adrian--A Ramble by Moonlight-- + The Cloaca Maxima, 307 + + LETTER XLIV. + + The Last Judgment--The Music--Gregory the Sixteenth, 312 + + LETTER XLV. + + Byron's Statue--The Borghese Palace--Society of Rome, 316 + + LETTER XLVI. + + The Climate--Falls of Terni--The Clitumnus--A Lesson not + Lost--Thrasimene--Florence--Florentine Women--Need of an + Ambassador, 320 + + LETTER XLVII. + + Chat in the Ante-Chamber--Love in High Life--Ball at the + Palazzo Pitti--The Grand Duke--An Italian Beauty--An English + Beauty, 329 + + LETTER XLVIII. + + Oxen of Italy--Vallombrosa--A Convent Dinner--Vespers at + Vallombrosa--The Monk's Estimate of Women--Milton's Room-- + Florence, 336 + + LETTER XLIX. + + The House of Michael Angelo--Fiesole--San Miniato--Christmas + Eve--Amusing Scenes in Church, 344 + + LETTER L. + + Penitential Processions--The Carlist Refugees--The Miracle of + Rain--The Miraculous Picture--Giovanni Di Bologna--Andrea Del + Sarto, 350 + + LETTER LI. + + The Entertainments of Florence--A Peasant Beauty--The Morality + of Society--The Italian Cavalier--The Features of Society, 357 + + LETTER LII. + + Artists and the French Academy--Beautiful Scenery--Sacred + Woods of Bolsena, 363 + + LETTER LIII. + + The Virtuoso of Viterbo--Robberies--Rome as Fancied--Rome as + Found, 367 + + LETTER LIV. + + The Fountain of Egeria--The Pontine Marshes--Mola--The + Falernian Hills--The Doctor of St. Agatha--The Queen of + Naples, 372 + + LETTER LV. + + St. Peter's--The Fountains--The Obelisk--The Forum--Its + Memories--The Cenci--Claude's Pictures--Fancies Realized--The + Last of the Dorias--A Picture by Leonardo Da Vinci--Palace of + the Cesars--An Hour on the Palatine, 379 + + LETTER LVI. + + Roman Eyes versus Feet--Vespers at Santa Trinita--Roman + Baths--Baths of Titus--Shelley's Haunt, 390 + + LETTER LVII. + + The Tomb of the Scipios--The Early Christians--The Tomb of + Metella--Fountain of Egeria--Changed Aspect of Rome, 396 + + LETTER LVIII. + + Palm Sunday--A Crowd--The Miserere--A Judas--The Washing of + Feet--The Dinner, 402 + + LETTER LIX. + + The Protestant Cemetery--Shelley's Grave--Beauty of the + Place--Keats--Dr. Bell, 409 + + LETTER LX. + + Audience with the Pope--Humility and Pride in Contrast--The + Miserere at St. Peter's--Italian Moonlight--Dancing at the + Coliseum, 415 + + LETTER LXI. + + Easter Sunday--The Pope's Blessing--Illumination of St. + Peter's--Florentine Sociability--A Marriage of Convenience, 421 + + LETTER LXII. + + The Correggio--Austrians in Italy--The Cathedral at Milan-- + Guercino's Hagar--Milanese Coffee, 427 + + LETTER LXIII. + + Still in Italy--Isola Bella--Ascent of the Simplon--Farewell + to Italy--An American--Descent of the Simplon, 433 + + LETTER LXIV. + + The Cretins--The Goitre--First Sight of Lake Leman--Mont + Blanc--June in Geneva--The Winkelreid, 440 + + LETTER LXV. + + American and Genevese Steamers--Lilies of the Valley--A + Frenchman's Apology--Genevese Women--Voltaire's Room, 446 + + LETTER LXVI. + + The Jura--Arrival at Morez--Lost my Temper--National + Characteristics--Politeness versus Comfort, 452 + + LETTER LXVII. + + Lafayette's Funeral--Crossing the Channel--An English Inn-- + Mail Coaches and Horses--A Gentleman Driver--A Subject for + Madame Trollope, 458 + + LETTER LXVIII. + + First Dinner in London--The King's Birth-day--A Handsome + Street--Introduction to Lady Blessington--A Chat about + Bulwer--The D'Israeli's--Contrast of Criticism--Countess + Guiccioli--Lady Blessington--An Apology, 465 + + LETTER LXIX. + + An Evening at Lady Blessington's--Fonblanc--Tribute to American + Authors--A Sketch of Bulwer--Bulwer's Conversation--An Author + his own Critic, 476 + + LETTER LXX. + + Ascot Races--Handsome Men--The Princess Victoria--Charles + Lamb--Mary Lamb--Lamb's Conversation--The Breakfast at Fault, 483 + + LETTER LXXI. + + A Dinner at Lady Blessington's--D'Israeli, the Younger--The + Author of Vathek--Mr. Beckford's Whims--Irish Patriotism--The + Effect of Eloquence, 491 + + LETTER LXXII. + + The Opera House--What Books will pay for--English Beauty--A + Belle's Criticism on Society--Celebrities, 498 + + LETTER LXXIII. + + Breakfast with Proctor--A Story of Hazlitt--Procter as a + Poet--Impressions of the Man, 504 + + LETTER LXXIV. + + Moore's Dread of Criticism--Moore's Love of Rank--A generous + Offer nobly Refused--A Sacrifice to Jupiter--The Election of + Speaker--Miss Pardoe--Prices of Books, 509 + + LETTER LXXV. + + Dinner at Lady Blessington's--Scott--The Italians--Scott's Mode + of Living--O'Connell--Grattan--Moore's Manner of Talking--Lady + Blessington's Tact--Moore's Singing--A Curious Incident--The + Maid Metamorphosed, 517 + + + + +PENCILLINGS BY THE WAY. + + + + +LETTER I. + + +AT SEA.--I have emerged from my berth this morning for the first time +since we left the Capes. We have been running six or seven days before +a strong northwest gale, which, by the scuds in the sky, is not yet +blown out, and my head and hand, as you will see by my penmanship, are +anything but at rights. If you have ever plunged about in a cold +rain-storm at sea for seven successive days, you can imagine how I +have amused myself. + +I wrote to you after my pilgrimage to the tomb of Washington. It was +almost the only object of natural or historical interest in our own +country that I had not visited, and that seen, I made all haste back +to embark, in pursuance of my plans of travel, for Europe. At +Philadelphia I found a first-rate merchant-brig, the Pacific, on the +eve of sailing for Havre. She was nearly new, and had a French +captain, and no passengers--three very essential circumstances to my +taste--and I took a berth in her without hesitation. The next day she +fell down the river, and on the succeeding morning I followed her with +the captain in the steamboat. + +Some ten or fifteen vessels, bound on different voyages, lay in the +roads waiting for the pilot boat; and, as she came down the river, +they all weighed anchor together and we got under way. It was a +beautiful sight--so many sail in close company under a smart breeze, +and I stood on the quarter-deck and watched them in a mood of mingled +happiness and sadness till we reached the Capes. There was much to +elevate and much to depress me. The dream of my lifetime was about to +be realized. I was bound to France; and those fair Italian cities, +with their world of association and interest were within the limit of +a voyage; and all that one looks to for happiness in change of scene, +and all that I had been passionately wishing and imagining since I +could dream a day-dream or read a book, was before me with a visible +certainty; but my home was receding rapidly, perhaps for years, and +the chances of death and adversity in my absence crowded upon my +mind--and I had left friends--(many--many--as dear to me, any one of +them, as the whole sum of my coming enjoyment), whom a thousand +possible accidents might remove or estrange; and I scarce knew whether +I was more happy or sad. + +We made Cape Henlopen about sundown, and all shortened sail and came +to. The little boat passed from one to another, taking off the pilots, +and in a few minutes every sail was spread again, and away they went +with a dashing breeze, some on one course some on another, leaving us +in less than an hour, apparently alone on the sea. By this time the +clouds had grown black, the wind had strengthened into a gale, with +fits of rain; and as the order was given to "close-reef the +top-sails," I took a last look at Cape Henlopen, just visible in the +far edge of the horizon, and went below. + +OCT. 18.--It is a day to make one in love with life. The remains of +the long storm, before which we have been driven for a week, lie, in +white, turreted masses around the horizon, the sky overhead is +spotlessly blue, the sun is warm, the wind steady and fresh, but soft +as a child's breath, and the sea--I must sketch it to you more +elaborately. We are in the Gulf Stream. The water here as you know, +even to the cold banks of Newfoundland, is always blood warm, and the +temperature of the air mild at all seasons, and, just now, like a +south wind on land in June. Hundreds of sea birds are sailing around +us--the spongy sea-weeds, washed from the West Indian rocks, a +thousand miles away in the southern latitudes, float by in large +masses--the sailors, barefoot and bareheaded, are scattered over the +rigging, doing "fair-weather work"--and just in the edge of the +horizon, hidden by every swell, stand two vessels with all sail +spread, making, with the first fair wind they have had for many days, +for America. + +This is the first day that I have been able to be long enough on deck +to study the sea. Even were it not, however, there has been a constant +and chilly rain which would have prevented me from enjoying its +grandeur, so that I am reconciled to my unusually severe sickness. I +came on deck this morning and looked around, and for an hour or two I +could scarce realize that it was not a dream. Much as I had watched +the sea from our bold promontory at Nahant, and well as I thought I +knew its character in storms and calms, the scene which was before me +surprized and bewildered me utterly. At the first glance, we were just +in the gorge of the sea; and, looking over the leeward quarter, I +saw, stretching up from the keel, what I can only describe as a hill +of dazzling blue, thirty or forty feet in real altitude, but sloped so +far away that the white crest seemed to me a cloud, and the space +between a sky of the most wonderful beauty and brightness. A moment +more, and the crest burst over with a splendid volume of foam; the sun +struck through the thinner part of the swell in a line of vivid +emerald, and the whole mass swept under us, the brig rising and riding +on the summit with the buoyancy and grace of a bird. + +The single view of the ocean which I got at that moment, will be +impressed upon my mind for ever. Nothing that I ever saw on land at +all compares with it for splendor. No sunset, no lake scene of hill +and water, no fall, not even Niagara, no glen or mountain gap ever +approached it. The waves had had no time to "knock down," as the +sailors phrase it, and it was a storm at sea without the hurricane and +rain. I looked off to the horizon, and the long majestic swells were +heaving into the sky upon its distant limit, and between it and my eye +lay a radius of twelve miles, an immense plain flashing with green and +blue and white, and changing place and color so rapidly as to be +almost painful to the sight. I stood holding by the tafferel an hour, +gazing on it with a childish delight and wonder. The spray had broken +over me repeatedly, and, as we shipped half a sea at the scuppers at +every roll, I was standing half the time up to the knees in water; but +the warm wind on my forehead, after a week's confinement to my berth, +and the excessive beauty lavished upon my sight, were so delicious, +that I forgot all, and it was only in compliance with the captain's +repeated suggestion that I changed my position. + +I mounted the quarter-deck, and, pulling off my shoes, like a +schoolboy, sat over the leeward rails, and, with my feet dipping into +the warm sea at every lurch, gazed at the glorious show for hours. I +do not hesitate to say that the formation, progress, and final burst +of a sea-wave, in a bright sun, are the most gorgeously beautiful +sight under heaven. I must describe it like a jeweller to you, or I +can never convey my impressions. + +First of all, a quarter of a mile away to windward, your eye is caught +by an uncommonly high wave, rushing right upon your track, and heaping +up slowly and constantly as it comes, as if some huge animal were +ploughing his path steadily and powerfully beneath the surface. Its +"ground," as a painter would say, is of a deep indigo, clear and +smooth as enamel, its front curved inward, like a shell, and turned +over at the summit with a crest of foam, flashing and changing +perpetually in the sunshine, like the sudden outburst of a million of +"unsunned diamonds;" and, right through its bosom, as the sea falls +off, or the angle of refraction changes, there runs a shifting band of +the most vivid green, that you would take to have been the cestus of +Venus, as she rose from the sea, it is so supernaturally translucent +and beautiful. As it nears you, it looks in shape like the prow of +Cleopatra's barge, as they paint it in the old pictures; but its +colors, and the grace and majesty of its march, and its murmur (like +the low tones of an organ, deep and full, and, to my ear, ten times as +articulate and solemn), almost startle you into the belief that it is +a sentient being, risen glorious and breathing from the ocean. As it +reaches the ship, she rises gradually, for there is apparently an +under-wave driven before it, which prepares her for its power; and as +it touches the quarter, the whole magnificent wall breaks down beneath +you with a deafening surge, and a volume of foam issues from its +bosom, green and blue and white, as if it had been a mighty casket in +which the whole wealth of the sea, crysoprase, and emerald, and +brilliant spars, had been heaped and lavished at a throw. This is the +"tenth wave," and, for four or five minutes, the sea will be smooth +about you, and the sparkling and dying foam falls into the wake, and +may be seen like a white path, stretching away over the swells behind, +till you are tired of gazing at it. Then comes another from the same +direction, and with the same shape and motion, and so on till the sun +sets, or your eyes are blinded and your brain giddy with splendor. + +I am sure this language will seem exaggerated to you, but, upon the +faith of a lonely man (the captain has turned in, and it is near +midnight and a dead calm), it is a mere skeleton, a goldsmith's +inventory, of the reality. I long ago learned that first lesson of a +man of the world, "to be astonished at nothing," but the sea has +overreached my philosophy--quite. I am changed to a mere child in my +wonder. Be assured, no view of the ocean from land can give you a +shadow of an idea of it. Within even the outermost Capes, the swell is +broken, and the color of the water in soundings is essentially +different--more dull and earthy. Go to the mineral cabinets of +Cambridge or New Haven, and look at the _fluor spars_, and the +_turquoises_, and the clearer specimens of _crysoprase_, and _quartz_, +and _diamond_, and imagine them all polished and clear, and flung at +your feet by millions in a noonday sun, and it may help your +conceptions of the sea after a storm. You may "swim on bladders" at +Nahant and Rockaway till you are gray, and be never the wiser. + +The "middle watch" is called, and the second mate, a fine rough old +sailor, promoted from "the mast," is walking the quarter-deck, +stopping his whistle now and then with a gruff "How do you head?" or +"keep her up, you lubber," to the man at the helm; the "silver-shell" +of a waning moon, is just visible through the dead lights over my +shoulder (it has been up two hours, to me, and by the difference of +our present merideans, is just rising now over a certain hill, and +peeping softly in at an eastern window that I have watched many a time +when its panes have been silvered by the same chaste alchymy), and so +after a walk on the deck for an hour to look at the stars and watch +the phosphorus in the wake, I think of ----, I'll get to mine own +uneven pillow, and sleep too. + + + + +LETTER II. + + +AT SEA, OCTOBER 20.--We have had fine weather for progress, so far, +running with north and north-westerly winds from eight to ten knots an +hour, and making, of course, over two hundred miles a day. The sea is +still rough; and though the brig is light laden and rides very +buoyantly, these mounting waves break over us now and then with a +tremendous surge, keeping the decks constantly wet, and putting me to +many an uncomfortable shiver. I have become reconciled, however, to +much that I should have anticipated with no little horror. I can lie +in my berth forty-eight hours, if the weather is chill or rainy, and +amuse myself very well with talking bad French across the cabin to the +captain, or laughing at the distresses of my friend and +fellow-passenger, Turk (a fine setter dog, on his first voyage), or +inventing some disguise for the peculiar flavor which that dismal cook +gives to all his abominations, or, at worst, I can bury my head in my +pillow, and brace from one side to the other against the swell, and +enjoy my disturbed thoughts--all without losing my temper, or wishing +that I had not undertaken the voyage. + +Poor Turk! his philosophy is more severely tried. He has been bred a +gentleman, and is amusingly exclusive. No assiduities can win him to +take the least notice of the crew, and I soon discovered, that, when +the captain and myself were below, he endured many a persecution. In +an evil hour, a night or two since, I suffered his earnest appeals for +freedom to work upon my feelings, and, releasing him from his chain +under the windlass, I gave him the liberty of the cabin. He slept very +quietly on the floor till about midnight, when the wind rose and the +vessel began to roll very uncomfortably. With the first heavy lurch a +couple of chairs went tumbling to leeward, and by the yelp of +distress, Turk was somewhere in the way. He changed his position, and, +with the next roll, the mate's trunk "brought away," and shooting +across the cabin, jammed him with such violence against the captain's +state-room door, that he sprang howling to the deck, where the first +thing that met him was a washing sea, just taken in at midships, that +kept him swimming above the hatches for five minutes. Half-drowned, +and with a gallon of water in his long hair, he took again to the +cabin, and making a desperate leap into the steward's berth, crouched +down beside the sleeping creole with a long whine of satisfaction. The +water soon penetrated however, and with a "_sacré!_" and a blow that +he will remember for the remainder of the voyage, the poor dog was +again driven from the cabin, and I heard no more of him till morning. +His decided preference for me has since touched my vanity, and I have +taken him under my more special protection--a circumstance which costs +me two quarrels a day at least, with the cook and steward. + +The only thing which forced a smile upon me during the first week of +the passage was the achievement of dinner. In rough weather, it is as +much as one person can do to keep his place at the table at all; and +to guard the dishes, bottles, and castors, from a general slide in +the direction of the lurch, requires a sleight and coolness reserved +only for a sailor. "_Prenez garde!_" shouts the captain, as the sea +strikes, and in the twinkling of an eye, everything is seized and held +up to wait for the other lurch in attitudes which it would puzzle the +pencil of Johnson to exaggerate. With his plate of soup in one hand, +and the larboard end of the tureen in the other, the claret bottle +between his teeth, and the crook of his elbow caught around the +mounting corner of the table, the captain maintains his seat upon the +transom, and, with a look of the most grave concern, keeps a wary eye +on the shifting level of his vermicelli; the old weather-beaten mate, +with the alacrity of a juggler, makes a long leg back to the cabin +panels at the same moment, and with his breast against the table, +takes his own plate and the castors, and one or two of the smaller +dishes under his charge; and the steward, if he can keep his legs, +looks out for the vegetables, or if he falls, makes as wide a lap as +possible to intercept the volant articles in their descent. "Gentlemen +that live at home at ease" forget to thank Providence for the +blessings of a permanent level. + +OCT. 24.--We are on the Grand Bank, and surrounded by hundreds of +sea-birds. I have been watching them nearly all day. Their +performances on the wing are certainly the perfection of grace and +skill. With the steadiness of an eagle and the nice adroitness of a +swallow, they wheel round in their constant circles with an arrowy +swiftness, lifting their long tapering pinions scarce perceptibly, and +mounting and falling as if by a mere act of volition, without the +slightest apparent exertion of power. Their chief enjoyment seems to +be to scoop through the deep hollows of the sea, and they do it so +quickly that your eye can scarce follow them, just disturbing the +polish of the smooth crescent, and leaving a fine line of ripple from +swell to swell, but never wetting a wing, or dipping their white +breasts a feather too deep in the capricious and wind-driven surface. +I feel a strange interest in these wild-hearted birds. There is +something in this fearless instinct, leading them away from the +protecting and pleasant land to make their home on this tossing and +desolate element, that moves both my admiration and my pity. I cannot +comprehend it. It is unlike the self-caring instincts of the other +families of Heaven's creatures. If I were half the Pythagorean that I +used to be, I should believe they were souls in punishment--expiating +some lifetime sin in this restless metempsychosis. + +Now and then a land-bird has flown on board, driven to sea probably by +the gale; and so fatigued as hardly to be able to rise again upon the +wing. Yesterday morning a large curlew came struggling down the wind, +and seemed to have just sufficient strength to reach the vessel. He +attempted to alight on the main yard, but failed and dropped heavily +into the long-boat, where he suffered himself to be taken without an +attempt to escape. He must have been on the wing two or three days +without food, for we were at least two hundred miles from land. His +heart was throbbing hard through his ruffled feathers, and he held his +head up with difficulty. He was passed aft; but, while I was +deliberating on the best means for resuscitating and fitting him to +get on the wing again, the captain had taken him from me and handed +him over to the cook, who had his head off before I could remember +French enough to arrest him. I dreamed all that night of the man "that +shot the albatross." The captain relieved my mind, however, by telling +me that he had tried repeatedly to preserve them, and that they died +invariably in a few hours. The least food, in their exhausted state, +swells in their throats and suffocates them. Poor Curlew! there was a +tenderness in one breast for him at least--a feeling I have the +melancholy satisfaction to know, fully reciprocated by the bird +himself--that seat of his affections having been allotted to me for my +breakfast the morning succeeding his demise. + +OCT. 29.--We have a tandem of whales ahead. They have been playing +about the ship an hour, and now are coursing away to the east, one +after the other, in gallant style. If we could only get them into +traces now, how beautiful it would be to stand in the foretop and +drive a degree or two, on a summer sea! It would not be more +wonderful, _de novo_, than the discovery of the lightning-rod, or +navigation by steam! And by the way, the sight of these huge creatures +has made me realize, for the first time, the extent to which the sea +has _grown_ upon my mind during the voyage. I have seen one or two +whales, exhibited in the docks, and it seemed to me always that they +were monsters--out of proportion, entirely, to the range of the ocean. +I had been accustomed to look out to the horizon from land (the +radius, of course, as great as at sea), and, calculating the probable +speed with which they would compass the intervening space, and the +disturbance they would make in doing it, it appeared that in any +considerable numbers, they would occupy more than their share of +notice and sea-room. Now--after sailing five days, at two hundred +miles a day, and not meeting a single vessel--it seems to me that a +troop of a thousand might swim the sea a century and chance to be +never crossed, so endlessly does this eternal horizon open and stretch +away! + +OCT. 30.--The day has passed more pleasantly than usual The man at the +helm cried "a sail," while we were at breakfast, and we gradually +overtook a large ship, standing on the same course, with every sail +set. We were passing half a mile to leeward, when she put up her helm +and ran down to us, hoisting the English flag. We raised the +"star-spangled banner" in answer, and "hove to," and she came dashing +along our quarter, heaving most majestically to the sea, till she was +near enough to speak us without a trumpet. Her fore-deck was covered +with sailors dressed all alike and very neatly, and around the gangway +stood a large group of officers in uniform, the oldest of whom, a +noble-looking man with gray hair, hailed and answered us. Several +ladies stood back by the cabin door--passengers apparently. She was a +man of war, sailing as a king's packet between Halifax and Falmouth, +and had been out from the former port nineteen days. After the usual +courtesies had passed, she bore away a little, and then kept on her +course again, the two vessels in company at the distance of half a +pistol shot. I rarely have seen a more beautiful sight. The fine +effect of a ship under sail is entirely lost to one on board, and it +is only at sea and under circumstances like these, that it can be +observed. The power of the swell, lifting such a huge body as lightly +as an egg-shell on its bosom, and tossing it sometimes half out of the +water without the slightest apparent effort, is astonishing. I sat on +deck watching her with undiminished interest for hours. Apart from the +spectacle, the feeling of companionship, meeting human beings in the +middle of the ocean after so long a deprivation of society (five days +without seeing a sail, and nearly three weeks unspoken from land), was +delightful. Our brig was the faster sailer of the two, but our captain +took in some of his canvas for company's sake; and all the afternoon +we heard her half-hour bells, and the boatswain's whistle, and the +orders of the officers of the deck, and I could distinguish very +well, with a glass, the expression of the faces watching our own +really beautiful vessel as she skimmed over the water like a bird. We +parted at sunset, the man-of-war making northerly for her port, and we +stretching south for the coast of France. I watched her till she went +over the horizon, and felt as if I had lost friends when the night +closed in and we were once more + + "Alone on the wide, wide sea." + +NOV. 3.--We have just made the port of Havre, and the pilot tells us +that the packet has been delayed by contrary winds, and sails early +to-morrow morning. The town bells are ringing "nine" (as delightful a +sound as I ever heard, to my sea-weary ear), and I close in haste, for +all is confusion on board. + + + + +LETTER III. + + +HAVRE.--This is one of those places which scribbling travellers hurry +through with a crisp mention of their arrival and departure, but, as I +have passed a day here upon customhouse compulsion, and passed it +pleasantly too, and as I have an evening entirely to myself, and a +good fire, why I will order another _pound_ of wood (they sell it like +a drug here), and Monsieur and Mademoiselle Somebodies, "violin +players right from the hands of Paganini, only fifteen years of age, +and miracles of music," (so says the placard), may delight other +lovers of precocious talent than I. Pen, ink, and paper for No. 2! + +If I had not been warned against being astonished, short of Paris, I +should have thought Havre quite an affair. I certainly have seen more +that is novel and amusing since morning than I ever saw before in any +seven days of my life. Not a face, not a building, not a dress, not a +child even, not a stone in the street, nor shop, nor woman, nor beast +of burden, looks in any comparable degree like its namesake the other +side of the water. + +It was very provoking to eat a salt supper and go to bed in that +tiresome berth again last night, with a French hotel in full view, and +no permission to send for a fresh biscuit even, or a cup of milk. It +was nine o'clock when we reached the pier, and at that late hour there +was, of course, no officer to be had for permission to land; and there +paced the patrole, with his high black cap and red pompon, up and down +the quay, within six feet of our tafferel, and a shot from his +arquebuss would have been the consequence of any unlicensed +communication with the shore. It was something, however, to sleep +without rocking; and, after a fit of musing anticipation, which kept +me conscious of the sentinel's measured tread till midnight, the +"gentle goddess" sealed up my cares effectually, and I awoke at +sunrise--in France! + +It is a common thing enough to go abroad, and it may seem idle and +common-place to be enthusiastic about it; but nothing is common or a +trifle, to me, that can send the blood so warm to my heart, and the +color to my temples as generously, as did my first conscious thought +when I awoke this morning. _In France._ I would not have had it a +dream for the price of an empire. + +Early in the morning a woman came clattering into the cabin with +wooden shoes, and a _patois_ of mingled French and English--a +_blanchisseuse_--spattered to the knees with mud, but with a cap and +'kerchief that would have made the fortune of a New York milliner. +_Ciel!_ what politeness! and what white teeth and what a knowing row +of papillotes, laid in precise parallel, on her clear brunette +temples. + +"_Quelle nouvelle!_" said the captain. + +"_Poland est a bas!_" was the answer, with a look of heroic sorrow, +that would have become a tragedy queen, mourning for the loss of a +throne. The French manner, for once, did not appear exaggerated. It +was news to sadden us all. Pity! pity! that the broad Christian world +could look on and see this glorious people trampled to the dust in one +of the most noble and desperate struggles for liberty that the earth +ever saw! What an opportunity was here lost to France for setting a +seal of double truth and splendor on her own newly-achieved triumph +over despotism. The washerwoman broke the silence with "_Any clothes +to wash, Monsieur?_" and in the instant return of my thoughts to my +own comparatively-pitiful interests, I found the philosophy for all I +had condemned in kings--the humiliating and selfish individuality of +human nature! And yet I believe with Dr. Channing on that dogma. + +At ten o'clock I had performed the traveller's routine--had submitted +my trunk and my passport to the three authorities, and had got into +(and out of) as many mounting passions at what seemed to me the +intolerable impertinencies of searching my linen, and inspecting my +person for scars. I had paid the porter three times his due rather +than endure his cataract of French expostulation; and with a bunch of +keys, and a landlady attached to it, had ascended by a cold, wet, +marble staircase, to a parlor and bedroom on the fifth floor: as +pretty a place, when you get there, and as difficult to get to as if +it were a palace in thin air. It is perfectly French! Fine, old, +last-century chairs, covered with splendid yellow damask, two sofas of +the same, the legs or arms of every one imperfect; a coarse wood +dressing-table, covered with fringed drapery and a sort of throne +pincushion, with an immense glass leaning over it, gilded probably in +the time of Henri Quatre; artificial flowers all around the room, and +prints of Atala and _Napoleon mourant_ over the walls; windows opening +to the floor on hinges, damask and muslin curtains inside, and boxes +for flower-pots without; a bell-wire that pulls no bell, a bellows too +asthmatic even to wheeze, tongs that refuse to meet, and a carpet as +large as a table-cloth in the centre of the floor, may answer for an +inventory of the "parlor." The bedchamber, about half as large as the +boxes in Rattle-row, at Saratoga, opens by folding doors, and +discloses a bed, that, for tricksy ornament as well as size, might +look the bridal couch for a faery queen in a panorama; the same +golden-sprig damask looped over it, tent-fashion, with splendid +crimson cord, tassels, fringes, etc., and a pillow beneath that I +shall be afraid to sleep on, it is so dainty a piece of needle-work. +There is a delusion about it, positively. One cannot help imagining, +that all this splendor means something, and it would require a worse +evil than any of these little deficiencies of _comfort_ to disturb the +self-complacent, Captain-Jackson sort of feeling, with which one +throws his cloak on one sofa and his hat on the other, and spreads +himself out for a lounge before this mere apology of a French fire. + +But, for eating and drinking! if they cook better in Paris, I shall +have my passport altered. The next _prefet_ that signs it shall +substitute _gourmand_ for _proprietaire_. I will profess a palate, and +live to eat. Making every allowance for an appetite newly from sea, my +experience hitherto in this department of science is transcended in +the degree of a rushlight to Arcturus. + +I strolled about Havre from breakfast till dinner, seven or eight +hours, following curiosity at random, up one street and down another, +with a prying avidity which I fear travel will wear fast away. I must +compress my observations into a sentence or two, for my fire is out, +and this old castle of a hotel lets in the wind "shrewdly cold," and, +besides, the diligence calls for me in a few hours and one must sleep. + +Among my impressions the most vivid are--that, of the twenty thousand +inhabitants of Havre, by far the greater portion are women and +soldiers--that the buildings all look toppling, and insecurely antique +and unsightly--that the privates of the regular army are the most +stupid, and those of the national guard the most intelligent-looking +troops I ever saw--that the streets are filthy beyond endurance, and +the shops clean beyond all praise--that the women do all the buying +and selling, and cart-driving and sweeping, and even shoe-making, and +other sedentary craftswork, and at the same time have (the meanest of +them) an air of ambitious elegance and neatness, that sends your hand +to your hat involuntarily when you speak to them--that the children +speak French, and look like little old men and women, and the horses, +(the famed Norman breed) are the best of draught animals, and the +worst for speed in the world--and that, for extremes ridiculously +near, dirt and neatness, politeness and knavery, chivalry and +_petitesse_, of bearing and language, the people I have seen to-day +_must_ be pre-eminently remarkable, or France, for a laughing +philosopher, is a paradise indeed! And now for my pillow, till the +diligence calls. Good night. + + + + +LETTER IV. + + +PARIS.--It seems to me as if I were going back a month to recall my +departure from Havre, my memory is so clouded with later incidents. I +was awaked on the morning after I had written to you, by a servant, +who brought me at the same time a cup of coffee, and at about an hour +before daylight we were passing through the huge gates of the town on +our way to Paris. The whole business of diligence-travelling amused me +exceedingly. The construction of this vehicle has often been +described; but its separate apartments (at four different prices), its +enormous size, its comfort and clumsiness, and, more than all, the +driving of its postillions, struck me as equally novel and diverting. +This last mentioned performer on the whip and voice (the only two +accomplishments he at all cultivates), rides one of the three wheel +horses, and drives the four or seven which are in advance, as a +grazier in our country drives a herd of cattle, and they travel very +much in the same manner. There is leather enough in two of their +clumsy harnesses, to say nothing of the postillion's boots, to load a +common horse heavily. I never witnessed such a ludicrous absence of +contrivance and tact as in the appointments and driving of horses in a +diligence. It is so in everything in France, indeed. They do not +possess the quality as a nation. The story of the Gascoigne, who saw a +bridge for the first time, and admired the ingenious economy that +placed it across the river, instead of lengthwise, is hardly an +exaggeration. + +At daylight I found myself in the _coupé_ (a single seat for three in +the front of the body of the carriage, with windows before and at the +sides), with two whiskered and mustached companions, both very polite, +and very unintelligible. I soon suspected, by the science with which +my neighbor on the left hummed little snatches of popular operas, that +he was a professed singer (a conjecture which proved true), and it was +equally clear, from the complexion of the portfeuille on the lap of +the other, that his vocation was a liberal one--a conjecture which +proved true also, as he confessed himself a _diplomat_, when we became +better acquainted. For the first hour or more my attention was divided +between the dim but beautiful outline of the country by the slowly +approaching light of the dawn, and my nervousness at the distressing +want of skill in the postillion's driving. The increasing and singular +beauty of the country, even under the disadvantage of rain and the +late season, soon absorbed all my attention, however, and my +involuntary and half-suppressed exclamations of pleasure, so unusual +in an Englishman (for whom I found I was taken), warmed the +diplomatist into conversation, and I passed the three ensuing hours +very pleasantly. My companion was on his return from Lithuania, having +been sent out by the French committee with arms and money for Poland. +He was, of course, a most interesting fellow-traveller; and, allowing +for the difficulty with which I understood the language, in the rapid +articulation of an enthusiastic Frenchman, I rarely have been better +pleased with a chance acquaintance. I found he had been in Greece +during the revolution, and knew intimately my friend, Dr. Howe, the +best claim he could have on my interest, and, I soon discovered, an +answering recommendation of myself to him. + +The province of Normandy is celebrated for its picturesque beauty, but +I had no conception before of the _cultivated_ picturesque of an old +country. I have been a great scenery-hunter in America, and my eye was +new, like its hills and forests. The massive, battlemented buildings +of the small villages we passed through, the heavy gateways and +winding avenues and antique structure of the distant and half-hidden +châteaux, the perfect cultivation, and, to me, singular appearance of +a whole landscape without a fence or a stone, the absence of all that +we define by _comfort_ and _neatness_, and the presence of all that we +have seen in pictures and read of in books, but consider as the +representations and descriptions of ages gone by--all seemed to me +irresistibly like a dream. I could not rub my hand over my eyes, and +realize myself. I could not believe that, within a month's voyage of +my home, these spirit-stirring places had stood all my lifetime as +they do, and have--for ages--every stone as it was laid in times of +worm-eaten history--and looking to my eyes now as they did to the eyes +of knights and dames in the days of French chivalry. I looked at the +constantly-occurring ruins of the old priories, and the magnificent +and still-used churches, and my blood tingled in my veins, as I saw, +in the stepping-stones at their doors, cavities that the sandals of +monks, and the iron-shod feet of knights in armor a thousand years +ago, had trodden and helped to wear, and the stone cross over the +threshold, that hundreds of generations had gazed upon and passed +under. + +By a fortunate chance the postillion left the usual route at Balbec, +and pursued what appeared to be a bye-road through the grain-fields +and vineyards for twenty or twenty-five miles. I can only describe it +as an uninterrupted green lane, winding almost the whole distance +through the bosom of a valley that must be one of the very loveliest +in the world. Imagine one of such extent, without a fence to break the +broad swells of verdure, stretching up from the winding and unenclosed +road on either side, to the apparent sky; the houses occurring at +distances of miles, and every one with its thatched roof covered all +over with bright green moss, and its walls of marl interlaid through +all the crevices with clinging vines, the whole structure and its +appurtenances faultlessly picturesque, and, when you have conceived a +valley that might have contented Rasselas, scatter over it here and +there groups of men, women, and children, the Norman peasantry in +their dresses of all colors, as you see them in the prints--and if +there is anything that can better please the eye, or make the +imagination more willing to fold up its wings and rest, my travels +have not crossed it. I have recorded a vow to walk through Normandy. + +As we approached Rouen the road ascended gradually, and a sharp turn +brought us suddenly to the brow of a steep hill, opposite another of +the same height, and with the same abrupt descent, at the distance of +a mile across. Between, lay Rouen. I hardly know how to describe, for +American eyes, the peculiar beauty of this view; one of the most +exquisite, I am told, in all France. A town at the foot of a hill is +common enough in our country, but of the hundreds that answer to this +description, I can not name one that would afford a correct +comparison. The nice and excessive cultivation of the grounds in so +old a country gives the landscape a complexion essentially different +from ours. If there were another Mount Holyoke, for instance, on the +other side of the Connecticut, the situation of Northampton would be +very similar to that of Rouen; but, instead of the rural village, with +its glimpses of white houses seen through rich and luxurious masses of +foliage, the mountain sides above broken with rocks, and studded with +the gigantic and untouched relics of the native forest, and the fields +below waving with heavy crops, irregularly fenced and divided, the +whole picture one of an overlavish and half-subdued Eden of +fertility--instead of this I say--the broad meadows, with the winding +Seine in their bosom, are as trim as a girl's flower-garden, the grass +closely cut, and of a uniform surface of green, the edges of the river +set regularly with willows, the little bright islands circled with +trees, and smooth as a lawn; and instead of green lanes lined with +bushes, single streets running right through the unfenced verdure, +from one hill to another, and built up with antique structures of +stone--the whole looking, in the _coup d'oeil_ of distance, like +some fantastic model of a town, with gothic houses of sand-paper, and +meadows of silk velvet. + +You will find the size, population, etc., of Rouen in the guide-books. +As my object is to record impressions, not statistics, I leave you to +consult those laconic chronicles, or the books of a thousand +travellers, for all such information. The Maid of Orleans was burnt +here, as you know, in the fourteenth century. There is a statue +erected to her memory, which I did not see, for it rained; and after +the usual stop of two hours, as the barometer promised no change in +the weather, and as I was anxious to be in Paris, I took my place in +the night diligence and kept on. + +I amused myself till dark, watching the streams that poured into the +broad mouth of the postillion's boots from every part of his dress, +and musing on the fate of the poor Maid of Orleans; and then, sinking +down into the comfortable corner of the _coupé_, I slept almost +without interruption till the next morning--the best comment in the +world on the only _comfortable_ thing I have yet seen in France, a +diligence. + +It is a pleasant thing in a foreign land to see the familiar face of +the sun; and, as he rose over a distant hill on the left, I lifted the +window of the _coupé_ to let him in, as I would open the door to a +long-missed friend. He soon reached a heavy cloud, however, and my +hopes of bright weather, when we should enter the metropolis, +departed. It began to rain again; and the postilion, after his blue +cotton frock was soaked through, put on his greatcoat over it--an +economy which is peculiarly French, and which I observed in every +succeeding postilion on the route. The last twenty-five miles to Paris +are uninteresting to the eye; and with my own pleasant thoughts, tinct +as they were with the brightness of immediate anticipation, and an +occasional laugh at the grotesque figures and equipages on the road, I +made myself passably contented till I entered the suburb of St. Denis. + +It is something to see the outside of a sepulchre for kings, and the +old abbey of St. Denis needs no association to make a sight of it +worth many a mile of weary travel. I could not stop within four miles +of Paris, however, and I contented myself with running to get a second +view of it in the rain while the postilion breathed his horses. The +strongest association about it, old and magnificent as it is, is the +fact that Napoleon repaired it after the revolution; and standing in +probably the finest point for its front view, my heart leaped to my +throat as I fancied that Napoleon, with his mighty thoughts, had stood +in that very spot, possibly, and contemplated the glorious old pile +before me as the place of his future repose. + +After four miles more, over a broad straight avenue, paved in the +centre and edged with trees, we arrived at the port of St. Denis. I +was exceedingly struck with the grandeur of the gate as we passed +under, and, referring to the guide-book, I find it was a triumphal +arch erected to Louis XIV., and the one by which the kings of France +invariably enter. This also was restored by Napoleon, with his +infallible taste, without changing its design: and it is singular how +everything that great man touched became his own--for, who remembers +for whom it was raised while he is told who employed his great +intellect in its repairs? + +I entered Paris on Sunday at eleven o'clock. I never should have +recognized the day. The shops were all open, the artificers all at +work, the unintelligible criers vociferating their wares, and the +people in their working-day dresses. We wound through street after +street, narrow and dark and dirty, and with my mind full of the +splendid views of squares, and columns, and bridges, as I had seen +them in the prints, I could scarce believe I was in Paris. A turn +brought us into a large court, that of the Messagerie, the place at +which all travellers are set down on arrival. Here my baggage was once +more inspected, and, after a half-hour's delay, I was permitted to get +into a _fiacre_, and drive to a hotel. As one is a specimen of all, I +may as well describe the _Hotel d'Etrangers_, Rue Vivienne, which, by +the way, I take the liberty at the same time to recommend to my +friends. It is the precise centre for the convenience of sight-seeing, +admirably kept, and, being nearly opposite Galignani's, that bookstore +of Europe, is a very pleasant resort for the half hour before dinner, +or a rainy day. I went there at the instance of my friend the +_diplomat_. + +The _fiacre_ stopped before an arched passage, and a fellow in +livery, who had followed me from the Messagerie (probably in the +double character of porter and police agent, as my passport was yet to +be demanded), took my trunk into a small office on the left, over +which was written "_Concierge_." This person, who is a kind of +respectable doorkeeper, addressed me in broken English, without +waiting for the evidence of my tongue, that I was a foreigner, and, +after inquiring at what price I would have a room, introduced me to +the landlady, who took me across a large court (the houses are built +_round_ the yard always in France), to the corresponding story of the +house. The room was quite pretty, with its looking-glasses and +curtains, but there was no carpet, and the fireplace was ten feet +deep. I asked to see another, and another, and another; they were all +curtains and looking-glasses, and stone-floors! There is no wearying a +French woman, and I pushed my modesty till I found a chamber to my +taste--a nutshell, to be sure, but carpeted--and bowing my polite +housekeeper out, I rang for breakfast and was at home in Paris. + +There are few things bought with money that are more delightful than a +French breakfast. If you take it at your room, it appears in the shape +of two small vessels, one of coffee and one of hot milk, two kinds of +bread, with a thin, printed slice of butter, and one or two of some +thirty dishes from which you choose, the latter flavored exquisitely +enough to make one wish to be always at breakfast, but cooked and +composed I know not how or of what. The coffee has an aroma peculiarly +exquisite, something quite different from any I ever tasted before; +and the _petit-pain_, a slender biscuit between bread and cake, is, +when crisp and warm, a delightful accompaniment. All this costs about +one third as much as the beefsteaks and coffee in America, and at the +same time that you are waited upon with a civility that is worth three +times the money. + +It still rained at noon, and, finding that the usual dinner hour was +five, I took my umbrella for a walk. In a strange city I prefer always +to stroll about at hazard, coming unawares upon what is fine or +curious. The hackneyed descriptions in the guidebooks profane the +spirit of a place; I never look at them till after I have found the +object, and then only for dates. The Rue Vivienne was crowded with +people, as I emerged from the dark archway of the hotel to pursue my +wanderings. + +A walk of this kind, by the way, shows one a great deal of novelty. In +France there are no shop-_men_. No matter what is the article of +trade--hats, boots, pictures, books, jewellery, anything or everything +that gentlemen buy--you are waited upon by girls, always handsome, and +always dressed in the height of the mode. They sit on damask-covered +settees, behind the counters; and, when you enter, bow and rise to +serve you, with a grace and a smile of courtesy that would become a +drawing-room. And this is universal. + +I strolled on until I entered a narrow passage, penetrating a long +line of buildings. It was thronged with people, and passing in with +the rest, I found myself unexpectedly in a scene that equally +surprised and delighted me. It was a spacious square enclosed by one +entire building. The area was laid out as a garden, planted with long +avenues of trees and beds of flowers, and in the centre a fountain was +playing in the shape of a _fleur-de-lis_, with a jet about forty feet +in height. A superb colonnade ran round the whole square, making a +covered gallery of the lower story, which was occupied by shops of the +most splendid appearance, and thronged through its long sheltered +_pavès_ by thousands of gay promenaders. It was the far-famed _Palais +Royal_. I remembered the description I had heard of its gambling +houses, and facilities for every vice, and looked with a new surprise +on its Aladdin-like magnificence. The hundreds of beautiful pillars, +stretching away from the eye in long and distant perspective, the +crowd of citizens, and women, and officers in full uniform, passing +and re-passing with French liveliness and politeness, the long windows +of plated glass glittering with jewellery, and bright with everything +to tempt the fancy, the tall sentinels pacing between the columns, and +the fountain turning over its clear waters with a fall audible above +the tread and voices of the thousands who walked around it--who could +look upon such a scene and believe it what it is, the most corrupt +spot, probably, on the face of the civilized world? + + + + +LETTER V. + + THE LOUVRE--AMERICANS IN PARIS--POLITICS, ETC. + + +The salient object in my idea of Paris has always been the Louvre. I +have spent some hours in its vast gallery to-day and I am sure it will +retain the same prominence in my recollections. The whole palace is +one of the oldest, and said to be one of the finest, in Europe; and, +if I may judge from its impressiveness, the vast inner court (the +_façades_ of which were restored to their original simplicity by +Napoleon), is a specimen of high architectural perfection. One could +hardly pass through it without being better fitted to see the +masterpieces of art within; and it requires this, and all the +expansiveness of which the mind is capable besides, to walk through +the _Musée Royale_ without the painful sense of a magnificence beyond +the grasp of the faculties. + +I delivered my passport at the door of the palace, and, as is +customary, recorded my name, country, and profession in the book, and +proceeded to the gallery. The grand double staircase, one part leading +to the private apartments of the royal household, is described +voluminously in the authorities; and, truly, for one who has been +accustomed to convenient dimensions only, its breadth, its lofty +ceilings, its pillars and statuary, its mosaic pavements and splendid +windows, are enough to unsettle for ever the standards of size and +grandeur. The strongest feeling one has, as he stops half way up to +look about him, is the ludicrous disproportion between it and the size +of the inhabiting animals. I should smile to see any man ascend such a +staircase, except, perhaps, Napoleon. + +Passing through a kind of entrance-hall, I came to a spacious _salle +ronde_, lighted from the ceiling, and hung principally with pictures +of a large size, one of the most conspicuous of which, "The Wreck," +has been copied by an American artist, Mr. Cooke, and is now +exhibiting in New York. It is one of the best of the French school, +and very powerfully conceived. I regret, however, that he did not +prefer the wonderfully fine piece opposite, which is worth all the +pictures ever painted in France, "The Marriage Supper at Cana." The +left wing of the table, projected toward the spectator, with seven or +eight guests who occupy it, absolutely stands out into the hall. It +seems impossible that color and drawing upon a flat surface can so +cheat the eye. + +From the _salle ronde_, on the right opens the grand gallery, which, +after the lesson I had just received in perspective, I took, at the +first glance, to be a painting. You will realize the facility of the +deception when you consider, that, with a breadth of but forty-two +feet, this gallery is one thousand three hundred and thirty-two feet +(more than a quarter of a mile) in length. The floor is of tesselated +woods, polished with wax like a table; and along its glassy surface +were scattered perhaps a hundred visiters, gazing at the pictures in +varied attitudes, and with sizes reduced in proportion to their +distance, the farthest off looking, in the long perspective, like +pigmies of the most diminutive description. It is like a matchless +painting to the eye, after all. The ceiling is divided by nine or ten +arches, standing each on four Corinthian columns, projecting into the +area; and the natural perspective of these, and the artists scattered +from one end to the other, copying silently at their easels, and a +soldier at every division, standing upon his guard, quite as silent +and motionless, would make it difficult to convince a spectator, who +was led blindfold and unprepared to the entrance, that it was not some +superb diorama, figures and all. + +I found our distinguished countryman, Morse, copying a beautiful +Murillo at the end of the gallery. He is also engaged upon a Raffaelle +for Cooper, the novelist. Among the French artists, I noticed several +soldiers, and some twenty or thirty females, the latter with every +mark in their countenances of absorbed and extreme application. There +was a striking difference in this respect between them and the artists +of the other sex. With the single exception of a lovely girl, drawing +from a Madonna, by Guido, and protected by the presence of an elderly +companion, these lady painters were anything but interesting in their +appearance. + +Greenough, the sculptor, is in Paris, and engaged just now in taking +the bust of an Italian lady. His reputation is now very enviable; and +his passion for his art, together with his untiring industry and his +fine natural powers, will work him up to something that will, before +long, be an honor to our country. If the wealthy men of taste in +America would give Greenough liberal orders for his time and talents, +and send out Augur, of New Haven, to Italy, they would do more to +advance this glorious art in our country, than by expending ten times +the sum in any other way. They are both men of rare genius, and both +ardent and diligent, and they are both cramped by the universal curse +of genius--necessity. The Americans in Paris are deliberating at +present on some means for expressing unitedly to our government their +interest in Greenough, and their appreciation of his merit of public +and private patronage. For the love of true taste, do everything in +your power to second such an appeal when it comes. + + * * * * * + +It is a queer feeling to find oneself a _foreigner_. One cannot +realize, long at a time, how his face or his manners should have +become peculiar; and, after looking at a print for five minutes in a +shop window, or dipping into an English book, or in any manner +throwing off the mental habit of the instant, the curious gaze of the +passer by, or the accent of a strange language, strikes one very +singularly. Paris is full of foreigners of all nations, and of course, +physiognomies of all characters may be met everywhere, but, differing +as the European nations do decidedly from each other, they differ +still more from the American. Our countrymen, as a class, are +distinguishable wherever they are met; not as Americans however, for, +of the habits and manners of our country, people know nothing this +side the water. But there is something in an American face, of which I +never was aware till I met them in Europe, that is altogether +peculiar. The French take the Americans to be English: but an +Englishman, while he presumes him his countryman, shows a curiosity to +know who he is, which is very foreign to his usual indifference. As +far as I can analyze it, it is the independent self-possessed bearing +of a man unused to look up to any one as his superior in rank, united +to the inquisitive, sensitive, communicative expression which is the +index to our national character. The first is seldom possessed in +England but by a man of decided rank, and the latter is never +possessed by an Englishman at all. The two are united in no other +nation. Nothing is easier than to tell the rank of an Englishman, and +nothing puzzles a European more than to know how to rate the +pretensions of an American. + + * * * * * + +On my way home from the Boulevards this evening, I was fortunate +enough to pass through the grand court of the Louvre, at the moment +when the moon broke through the clouds that have concealed her own +light and the sun's ever since I have been in France. I had often +stopped, in passing the sentinels at the entrance, to admire the +grandeur of the interior to this oldest of the royal palaces; but +to-night, my dead halt within the shadow of the arch, as the view +broke upon my eye, and my sudden exclamation in English, startled the +grenadier, and he had half presented his musket, when I apologized and +passed on. It was magically beautiful indeed! and, with the moonlight +pouring obliquely into the sombre area, lying full upon the taller of +the three _façades_, and drawing its soft line across the rich windows +and massive pilasters and arches of the eastern and western, while the +remaining front lay in the heavy black shadow of relief, it seemed to +me more like an accidental regularity in some rocky glen of America, +than a pile of human design and proportion. It is strange how such +high walls shut out the world. The court of the Louvre is in the very +centre of the busiest quarter of Paris, thousands of persons passing +and repassing constantly at the extremity of the long arched +entrances, and yet, standing on the pavement of that lonely court, no +living creature in sight but the motionless grenadiers at either gate, +the noises without coming to your ear in a subdued murmur, like the +wind on the sea, and nothing visible above but the sky, resting like a +ceiling on the lofty walls, the impression of utter solitude is +irresistible. I passed out by the archway for which Napoleon +constructed his bronze gates, said to be the most magnificent of +modern times, and which are now lying in some obscure corner unused, +no succeeding power having had the spirit or the will to complete, +even by the slight labor that remained, his imperial design. All over +Paris you may see similar instances; they meet you at every step: +glorious plans defeated; works, that with a mere moiety of what has +been already expended in their progress, might be finished with an +effect that none but a mind like Napoleon's could have originally +projected. + + * * * * * + +Paris, of course, is rife with politics. There is but one opinion on +the subject of another pending revolution. The "people's king" is +about as unpopular as he need be for the purposes of his enemies; and +he has aggravated the feeling against him very unnecessarily by his +late project in the Tuileries. The whole thing is very characteristic +of the French people. He might have deprived them of half their civil +rights without immediate resistance; but to cut off a strip of the +public garden to make a play ground for his children--to encroach a +hundred feet on the pride of Paris, the daily promenade of the idlers, +who do all the discussion of his measures, it was a little too +venturesome. Unfortunately, too, the offence is in the very eye of +curiosity, and the workmen are surrounded, from morning till night, by +thousands of people, of all classes, gesticulating, and looking at the +palace windows and winding themselves gradually up to the +revolutionary pitch. + +In the event of an explosion, the liberal party will not want +partizans, for France is crowded with refugees from tyranny, of every +nation. The Poles are flocking hither every day, and the streets are +full of their melancholy faces! Poor fellows! they suffer dreadfully +from want. The public charity for refugees has been wrung dry long +ago, and the most heroic hearts of Poland, after having lost +everything but life, in their unavailing struggle, are starving +absolutely in the streets. Accident has thrown me into the confidence +of a well-known liberal--one of those men of whom the proud may ask +assistance without humiliation, and circumstances have thus come to my +knowledge, which would move a heart of stone. The fictitious +sufferings of "Thaddeus of Warsaw," are transcended in real-life +misery every day, and by natures quite as noble. Lafayette, I am +credibly assured, has anticipated several years of his income in +relieving them; and no possible charity could be so well bestowed as +contributions for the Poles, starving in these heartless cities. + +I have just heard that Chodsko, a Pole, of distinguished talent and +learning, who threw his whole fortune and energy into the late +attempted revolution, was arrested here last night, with eight others +of his countrymen, under suspicion by the government. The late serious +insurrection at Lyons has alarmed the king, and the police is +exceedingly strict. The Spanish and Italian refugees, who receive +pensions from France, have been ordered off to the provincial towns, +by the minister of the interior, and there is every indication of +extreme and apprehensive caution. The papers, meantime, are raving +against the ministry in the most violent terms, and the king is abused +without qualification, everywhere. + +I went, a night or two since, to one of the minor theatres to see the +representation of a play, which has been performed for the _hundred +and second time_!--"Napoleon at Schoenbrun and St. Helena." My object +was to study the feelings of the people toward Napoleon II., as the +exile's love for his son is one of the leading features of the piece. +It was beautifully played--most beautifully! and I never saw more +enthusiasm manifested by an audience. Every allusion of Napoleon to +his child, was received with that undertoned, gutteral acclamation, +that expresses such deep feeling in a crowd; and the piece is so +written that its natural pathos alone is irresistible. No one could +doubt for an instant, it seems to me, that the entrance of young +Napoleon into France, at any critical moment, would be universally and +completely triumphant. The great cry at Lyons was "_Vive Napoleon +II.!_" + +I have altered my arrangements a little, in consequence of the state +of feeling here. My design was to go to Italy immediately, but affairs +promise such an interesting and early change, that I shall pass the +winter in Paris. + + + + +LETTER VI. + + TAGLIONI--FRENCH STAGE, ETC. + + +I went last night to the French opera, to see the first dancer of the +world. The prodigious enthusiasm about her, all over Europe, had, of +course, raised my expectations to the highest possible pitch. "_Have +you seen Taglioni?_" is the first question addressed to a stranger in +Paris; and you hear her name constantly over all the hum of the +_cafés_ and in the crowded resorts of fashion. The house was +overflowed. The king and his numerous family were present; and my +companion pointed out to me many of the nobility, whose names and +titles have been made familiar to our ears by the innumerable private +memoirs and autobiographies of the day. After a little introductory +piece, the king arrived, and, as soon as the cheering was over, the +curtain drew up for "_Le Dieu et la Bayadere_." This is the piece in +which Taglioni is most famous. She takes the part of a dancing girl, +of whom the Bramah and an Indian prince are both enamored; the former +in the disguise of a man of low rank at the court of the latter, in +search of some one whose love for him shall be disinterested. The +disguised god succeeds in winning her affection, and, after testing +her devotion by submitting for a while to the resentment of his rival, +and by a pretended caprice in favor of a singing girl, who accompanies +her, he marries her, and then saves her from the flames as she is +about to be burned for marrying beneath her _caste_. Taglioni's part +is all pantomime. She does not speak during the play, but her motion +is more than articulate. Her first appearance was in a troop of Indian +dancing girls, who performed before the prince in the public square. +At a signal from the vizier a side pavilion opened, and thirty or +forty bayaderes glided out together, and commenced an intricate dance. +They were received with a tremendous round of applause from the +audience; but, with the exception of a little more elegance in the +four who led the dance, they were dressed nearly alike; and as I saw +no particularly conspicuous figure, I presumed that Taglioni had not +yet appeared. The splendor of the spectacle bewildered me for the +first moment or two, but I presently found my eyes rivetted to a +childish creature floating about among the rest, and, taking her for +some beautiful young _elève_ making her first essays in the chorus, I +interpreted her extraordinary fascination as a triumph of nature over +my unsophisticated taste; and wondered to myself whether, after all, I +should be half so much captivated with the show of skill I expected +presently to witness. _This was Taglioni!_ She came forward directly, +in a _pas seul_, and I then observed that her dress was distinguished +from that of her companions by its extreme modesty both of fashion and +ornament, and the unconstrained ease with which it adapted itself to +her shape and motion. She looks not more than fifteen. Her figure is +small, but rounded to the very last degree of perfection; not a muscle +swelled beyond the exquisite outline; not an angle, not a fault. Her +back and neck, those points so rarely beautiful in woman, are +faultlessly formed; her feet and hands are in full proportion to her +size, and the former play as freely and with as natural a yieldingness +in her fairy slippers, as if they were accustomed only to the dainty +uses of a drawing-room. Her face is most strangely interesting; not +quite beautiful, but of that half-appealing, half-retiring sweetness +that you sometimes see blended with the secluded reserve and +unconscious refinement of a young girl just "out" in a circle of high +fashion. In her greatest exertions her features retain the same timid +half smile, and she returns to the alternate by-play of her part +without the slightest change of color, or the slightest perceptible +difference in her breathing, or in the ease of her look and posture. +No language can describe her motion. She swims in your eye like a curl +of smoke, or a flake of down. Her difficulty seems to be to keep to +the floor. You have the feeling while you gaze upon her, that, if she +were to rise and float away like Ariel, you would scarce be surprised. +And yet all is done with such a childish unconsciousness of +admiration, such a total absence of exertion or fatigue, that the +delight with which she fills you is unmingled; and, assured as you are +by the perfect purity of every look and attitude, that her hitherto +spotless reputation is deserved beyond a breath of suspicion, you +leave her with as much respect as admiration; and find with surprise +that a dancing girl, who is exposed night after night to the profaning +gaze of the world, has crept into one of the most sacred niches of +your memory. + + * * * * * + +I have attended several of the best theatres in Paris, and find one +striking trait in all their first actors--_nature_. They do not look +like actors, and their playing is not like acting. They are men, +generally, of the most earnest, unstudied simplicity of countenance; +and when they come upon the stage, it is singularly without +affectation, and as the character they represent would appear. Unlike +most of the actors I have seen, too, they seem altogether unaware of +the presence of the audience. Nothing disturbs the fixed attention +they give to each other in the dialogue, and no private interview +between simple and sincere men could be more unconscious and natural. +I have formed consequently a high opinion of the French drama, +degenerate as it is said to be since the loss of Talma; and it is easy +to see that the root of its excellence is in the taste and judgment of +the people. _They applaud judiciously._ When Taglioni danced her +wonderful _pas seul_, for instance, the applause was general and +sufficient. It was a triumph of art, and she was applauded as an +artist. But when, as the neglected bayadere, she stole from the corner +of the cottage, and, with her indescribable grace, hovered about the +couch of the disguised Bramah, watching and fanning him while he +slept, she expressed so powerfully, by the saddened tenderness of her +manner, the devotion of a love that even neglect could not estrange, +that a murmur of delight ran through the whole house; and, when her +silent pantomime was interrupted by the waking of the god, there was +an overwhelming tumult of acclamation that came from the _hearts_ of +the audience, and as such must have been both a lesson, and the +highest compliment, to Taglioni. An actor's taste is of course very +much regulated by that of his audience. He will cultivate that for +which he is most praised. We shall never have a high-toned drama in +America, while, as at present, applause is won only by physical +exertion, and the nice touches of genius and nature pass undetected +and unfelt. + +Of the French actresses, I have been most pleased with Leontine Fay. +She is not much talked of here, and perhaps, as a mere artist in her +profession, is inferior to those who are more popular; but she has +that indescribable something in her face that has interested me +through life--that strange talisman which is linked wisely to every +heart, confining its interest to some nice difference invisible to +other eyes, and, by a happy consequence, undisputed by other +admiration. She, too, has that retired sweetness of look that seems to +come only from secluded habits, and in the highly-wrought passages of +tragedy, when her fine dark eyes are filled with tears, and her tones, +which have never the out-of-doors key of the stage, are clouded and +imperfect, she seems less an actress than a refined and lovely woman, +breaking through the habitual reserve of society in some agonizing +crisis of real life. There are prints of Leontine Fay in the shops, +and I have seen them in America, but they resemble her very little. + + + + +LETTER VII. + + JOACHIM LELEWEL--PALAIS ROYAL--PERE LA CHAISE--VERSAILLES, ETC. + + +I met, at a breakfast party, to-day, Joachim Lelewel, the celebrated +scholar and patriot of Poland. Having fallen in with a great deal of +revolutionary and emigrant society since I have been in Paris, I have +often heard his name, and looked forward to meeting him with high +pleasure and curiosity. His writings are passionately admired by his +countrymen. He was the principal of the university, idolized by that +effective part of the population, the students of Poland; and the +fearless and lofty tone of his patriotic principles is said to have +given the first and strongest momentum to the ill-fated struggle just +over. Lelewel impressed me very strongly. Unlike most of the Poles, +who are erect, athletic, and florid, he is thin, bent, and pale; and +were it not for the fire and decision of his eye, his uncertain gait +and sensitive address would convey an expression almost of timidity. +His form, features, and manners, are very like those of Percival, the +American poet, though their countenances are marked with the +respective difference of their habits of mind. Lelewel looks like a +naturally modest, shrinking man, worked up to the calm resolution of a +martyr. The strong stamp of his face is devoted enthusiasm. His eye is +excessively bright, but quiet and habitually downcast; his lips are +set firmly, but without effort, together; and his voice is almost +sepulchral, it is so low and calm. He never breaks through his +melancholy, though his refugee countrymen, except when Poland is +alluded to, have all the vivacity of French manners, and seem easily +to forget their misfortunes. He was silent, except when particularly +addressed, and had the air of a man who thought himself unobserved, +and had shrunk into his own mind. I felt that he was winning upon my +heart every moment. I never saw a man in my life whose whole air and +character were so free from self-consciousness or pretension--never +one who looked to me so capable of the calm, lofty, unconquerable +heroism of a martyr. + + * * * * * + +"Paris is the centre of the world," if centripetal tendency is any +proof of it. Everything struck off from the other parts of the +universe flies straight to the _Palais Royal_. You may meet in its +thronged galleries, in the course of an hour, representatives of every +creed, rank, nation, and system, under heaven. Hussein Pacha and Don +Pedro pace daily the same _pavé_--the one brooding on a kingdom lost, +the other on the throne he hopes to win; the Polish general and the +proscribed Spaniard, the exiled Italian conspirator, the contemptuous +Turk, the well-dressed negro from Hayti, and the silk-robed Persian, +revolve by the hour together around the same _jet d'eau_, and costumes +of every cut and order, mustaches and beards of every degree of +ferocity and oddity, press so fast and thick upon the eye that one +forgets to be astonished. There are no such things as "lions" in +Paris. The extraordinary persons outnumber the ordinary. Every other +man you meet would keep a small town in a ferment for a month. + + * * * * * + +I spent yesterday at _Pére la Chaise_, and to day at _Versailles_. The +two places are in opposite environs, and of very opposite +characters--one certainly making you in love with life, the other +almost as certainly with death. One could wander for ever in the +wilderness of art at Versailles, and it must be a restless ghost that +could not content itself with _Pére la Chaise_ for its elysium. + +This beautiful cemetery is built upon the broad ascent of a hill, +commanding the whole of Paris at a glance. It is a wood of small +trees, laid out in alleys, and crowded with tombs and monuments of +every possible description. You will scarce get through without being +surprised into a tear; but, if affectation and fantasticalness in such +a place do not more grieve than amuse you, you will much oftener +smile. The whole thing is a melancholy mock of life. Its distinctions +are all kept up. There are the fashionable avenues, lined with costly +chapels and monuments, with the names of the exclusive tenants in +golden letters upon the doors, iron railings set forbiddingly about +the shrubs, and the blessing-scrap writ ambitiously in Latin. The +tablets record the long family titles, and the offices and honors, +perhaps the numberless virtues of the dead. They read like chapters of +heraldry more than like epitaphs. It is a relief to get into the outer +alleys, and see how poverty and simple feeling express what should be +the same thing. It is usually some brief sentence, common enough, but +often exquisitely beautiful in this prettiest of languages, and +expressing always the _kind_ of sorrow felt by the mourner. You can +tell, for instance, by the sentiment simply, without looking at the +record below, whether the deceased was young, or much loved, or +mourned by husband, or parent, or brother, or a circle of all. I +noticed one, however, the humblest and simplest monument perhaps in +the whole cemetery, which left the story beautifully untold; it was a +slab of common marl, inscribed "_Pauvre Marie!_"--nothing more. I have +thought of it, and speculated upon it, a great deal since. What was +she? and who wrote her epitaph? _why_ was she _pauvre Marie_? + +Before almost all the poorer monuments is a minature garden with a low +wooden fence, and either the initials of the dead sown in flowers, or +rose-trees, carefully cultivated, trained to hang over the stone. I +was surprised to find, in a public cemetery, in December, roses in +full bloom and valuable exotics at almost every grave. It speaks both +for the sentiment and delicate principle of the people. Few of the +more costly monuments were either interesting or pretty. One struck my +fancy--a small open chapel, large enough to contain four chairs, with +the slab facing the door, and a crucifix encircled with fresh flowers +on a simple shrine above. It is a place where the survivors in a +family might come and sit at any time, nowhere more pleasantly. From +the chapel I speak of, you may look out and see all Paris; and I can +imagine how it would lessen the feeling of desertion and forgetfulness +that makes the anticipation of death so dreadful, to be certain that +your friends would come, as they may here, and talk cheerfully and +enjoy themselves near you, so to speak. The cemetery in summer must be +one of the sweetest places in the world. + + * * * * * + +_Versailles_ is a royal summer chateau, about twelve miles from Paris, +with a demesne of twenty miles in circumference. Take that for the +scale, and imagine a palace completed in proportion, in all its +details of grounds, ornament, and architecture. It cost, says the +guide book, two hundred and fifty millions of dollars; and, leaving +your fancy to expend that trifle over a residence, which, remember, is +but one out of some half dozen, occupied during the year by a single +family, I commend the republican moral to your consideration, and +proceed with the more particular description of my visit. + +My friend, Dr. Howe, was my companion. We drove up the grand avenue on +one of the loveliest mornings that ever surprised December with a +bright sun and a warm south wind. Before us, at the distance of a +mile, lay a vast mass of architecture, with the centre, falling back +between the two projecting wings, the whole crowning a long and +gradual ascent, of which the tri-colored flag waving against the sky +from the central turrets was the highest point. As we approached, we +noticed an occasional flash in the sun, and a stir of bright colors, +through the broad deep court between the wings, which, as we advanced +nearer, proved to be a body of about two or three thousand lancers and +troops of the line under review. The effect was indescribably fine. +The gay uniforms, the hundreds of tall lances, each with its red flag +flying in the wind, the imposing crescent of architecture in which the +array was embraced, the ringing echo of the grand military music from +the towers--and all this intoxication for the positive senses fused +with the historical atmosphere of the place, the recollection of the +king and queen, whose favorite residence it had been (the unfortunate +Louis and Marie Antoinette), or the celebrated women who had lived in +their separate palaces within its grounds, of the genius and chivalry +of Court after Court that had made it, in turn, the scene of their +brilliant follies, and, over all, Napoleon, who _must_ have rode +through its gilded gates with the thought of pride that he was its +imperial master by the royalty of his great nature alone--it was in +truth, enough, the real and the ideal, to dazzle the eyes of a simple +republican. + +After gazing at the fascinating show for an hour, we took a guide and +entered the palace. We were walked through suite after suite of cold +apartments, desolately splendid with gold and marble, and crowded with +costly pictures, till I was sick and weary of magnificence. The guide +went before, saying over his rapid rigmarole of names and dates, +giving us about three minutes to a room in which there were some +twenty pictures, perhaps, of which he presumed he had told us all that +was necessary to know. I fell behind, after a while; and, as a +considerable English party had overtaken and joined us, I succeeded in +keeping one room in the rear, and enjoying the remainder in my own +way. + +The little marble palace, called "_Petit Trianon_," built for Madame +Pompadour in the garden grounds, is a beautiful affair, full of what +somebody calls "affectionate-looking rooms;" and "_Grand Trianon_," +built also on the grounds at the distance of half a mile, for Madame +Maintenon, is a very lovely spot, made more interesting by the +preference given to it over all other places by Marie Antoinette. Here +she amused herself with her Swiss village. The cottages and artificial +"mountains" (ten feet high, perhaps) are exceedingly pretty models in +miniature, and probably illustrate very fairly the ideas of a +palace-bred fancy upon natural scenery. There are glens and grottoes, +and rocky beds for brooks that run at will ("_les rivieres à +volonté_," the guide called them), and trees set out upon the crags at +most uncomfortable angles, and every contrivance to make a lovely +lawn as inconveniently like nature as possible. The Swiss families, +however, must have been very amusing. Brought fresh from their wild +country, and set down in these pretty mock cottages, with orders to +live just as they did in their own mountains, they must have been +charmingly puzzled. In the midst of the village stands an exquisite +little Corinthian temple; and our guide informed us that the cottage +which the Queen occupied at her Swiss tea-parties was furnished at an +expense of sixty thousand francs--two not very Switzer-like +circumstances. + +It was in the little palace of _Trianon_ that Napoleon signed his +divorce from Josephine. The guide showed us the room, and the table on +which he wrote. I have seen nothing that brought me so near Napoleon. +There is no place in France that could have for me a greater interest. +It is a little _boudoir_, adjoining the state sleeping-room, simply +furnished, and made for familiar retirement, not for show. The single +sofa--the small round table--the enclosing, tent-like curtains--the +modest, unobtrusive elegance of ornaments, and furniture, give it +rather the look of a retreat, fashioned by the tenderness and taste of +private life, than any apartment in a royal palace. I felt unwilling +to leave it. My thoughts were too busy. What was the strongest motive +of that great man in this most affecting and disputed action of his +life? + +After having been thridded through the palaces, we had a few moments +left for the grounds. They are magnificent beyond description. We know +very little of this thing in America, as an art; but it is one, I have +come to think, that, in its requisition of genius, is scarce inferior +to architecture. Certainly the three palaces of Versailles together +did not impress me so much as the single view from the upper terrace +of the gardens. It stretches clear over the horizon. You stand on a +natural eminence that commands the whole country, and the plan seems +to you like some work of the Titans. The long sweep of the avenue, +with a breadth of descent that at the first glance takes away your +breath, stretching its two lines of gigantic statues and vases to the +water level; the wide, slumbering canal at its foot, carrying on the +eye to the horizon, like a river of an even flood lying straight +through the bosom of the landscape; the side avenues almost as +extensive; the palaces in the distant grounds, and the strange union +altogether, to an American, of as much extent as the eye can reach, +cultivated equally with the trim elegance of a garden--all these, +combining together, form a spectacle which nothing but nature's +royalty of genius could design, and (to descend ungracefully from the +climax) which only the exactions of an unnatural royalty could pay +for. + + * * * * * + +I think the most forcible lesson one learns at Paris is the value of +time and money. I have always been told, erroneously, that it was a +place to waste both. You could do so much with another hour, if you +had it, and buy so much with another dollar, if you could afford it, +that the reflected economy upon what you _can_ command, is inevitable. +As to the worth of time, for instance, there are some twelve or +fourteen _gratuitous_ lectures every day at the _Sorbonne_, the +_School of Medicine_ and the _College of France_, by men like Cuvier, +Say, Spurzheim, and others, each, in his professed pursuit, the most +eminent perhaps in the world; and there are the Louvre, and the Royal +Library, and the Mazarin Library, and similar public institutions, +all open to gratuitous use, with obsequious attendants, warm rooms, +materials for writing, and perfect seclusion; to say nothing of the +thousand interesting but less useful resorts with which Paris abounds, +such as exhibitions of flowers, porcelains, mosaics, and curious +handiwork of every description, and (more amusing and time-killing +still) the never-ending changes of sights in the public places, from +distinguished foreigners down to miracles of educated monkeys. Life +seems most provokingly short as you look at it. Then, for money, you +are more puzzled how to spend a poor pitiful franc in Paris (it will +buy so many things you want) than you would be in America with the +outlay of a month's income. Be as idle and extravagant as you will, +your idle hours look you in the face as they pass, to know whether, in +spite of the increase of their value, you really mean to waste them; +and the money that slipped through your pocket you know not how at +home, sticks embarrassed to your fingers, from the mere multiplicity +of demands made for it. There are shops all over Paris called the +"_Vingt-cinq-sous_," where every article is fixed at that +price--_twenty five cents_! They contain everything you want, except a +wife and fire-wood--the only two things difficult to be got in France. +(The latter, with or without a pun, is much the _dearer_ of the two.) +I wonder that they are not bought out, and sent over to America on +speculation. There is scarce an article in them that would not be held +cheap with us at five times its purchase. There are bronze standishes +for ink, sand, and wafers, pearl paper-cutters, spice-lamps, +decanters, essence-bottles, sets of china, table-bells of all devices, +mantel ornaments, vases of artificial flowers, kitchen utensils, +dog-collars, canes, guard-chains, chessmen whips, hammers, brushes, +and everything that is either convenient or pretty. You might freight +a ship with them, and all good and well finished, at twenty-five cents +the set or article! You would think the man were joking, to walk +through his shop. + + + + +LETTER VIII. + + DR. BOWRING--AMERICAN ARTISTS--BRUTAL AMUSEMENT, ETC. + + +I have met Dr. Bowring in Paris, and called upon him to-day with Mr. +Morse, by appointment. The translator of the "Ode to the Deity" (from +the Russian of Derzhavin) could not by any accident be an ordinary +man, and I anticipated great pleasure in his society. He received us +at his lodgings in the _Place Vendome_. I was every way pleased with +him. His knowledge of our country and its literature surprised me, and +I could not but be gratified with the unprejudiced and well-informed +interest with which he discoursed on our government and institutions. +He expressed great pleasure at having seen his ode in one of our +schoolbooks (Pierpont's Reader, I think), and assured us that the +promise to himself of a visit to America was one of his brightest +anticipations. This is not at all an uncommon feeling, by the way, +among the men of talent in Paris; and I am pleasingly surprised, +everywhere, with the enthusiastic hopes expressed for the success of +our experiment in liberal principles. Dr. Bowring is a slender man, a +little above the middle height, with a keen, inquisitive expression of +countenance, and a good forehead, from which the hair is combed +straight back all round, in the style of the Cameronians. His manner +is all life, and his motion and gesture nervously sudden and angular. +He talks rapidly, but clearly, and uses beautiful language--concise, +and full of select expressions and vivid figures. His conversation in +this particular was a constant surprise. He gave us a great deal of +information, and when we parted, inquired my route of travel, and +offered me letters to his friends, with a cordiality very unusual on +this side the Atlantic. + + * * * * * + +It is a cold but common rule with travellers in Europe to avoid the +society of their own countrymen. In a city like Paris, where time and +money are both so valuable, every additional acquaintance, pursued +either for etiquette or intimacy, is felt, and one very soon learns to +prefer his advantage to any tendency of his sympathies. The +infractions upon the rule, however, are very delightful, and, at the +general _réunion_ at our ambassador's on Wednesday evening, or an +occasional one at Lafayette's, the look of pleasure and relief at +beholding familiar faces, and hearing a familiar language once more, +is universal. I have enjoyed this morning the double happiness of +meeting an American circle, around an American breakfast. Mr. Cooper +had invited us (Morse, the artist, Dr. Howe, a gentleman of the navy, +and myself). Mr. C. lives with great hospitality, and in all the +comfort of American habits; and to find him as he is always found, +with his large family about him, is to get quite back to the +atmosphere of our country. The two or three hours we passed at his +table were, of course, delightful. It should endear Mr. Cooper to the +hearts of his countrymen, that he devotes all his influence, and no +inconsiderable portion of his large income, to the encouragement of +American artists. It would be natural enough, after being so long +abroad, to feel or affect a preference for the works of foreigners; +but in this, as in his political opinions, most decidedly, he is +eminently patriotic. We feel this in Europe, where we discern more +clearly by comparison the poverty of our country in the arts, and +meet, at the same time, American artists of the first talent, without +a single commission from home for original works, copying constantly +for support. One of Mr. Cooper's purchases, the "Cherubs," by +Greenough, has been sent to the United States, and its merit was at +once acknowledged. It was done, however (the artist, who is here, +informs me), under every disadvantage of feeling and circumstances; +and, from what I have seen and am told by others of Mr. Greenough, it +is, I am confident, however beautiful, anything but a fair specimen of +his powers. His peculiar taste lies in a bolder range, and he needs +only a commission from government to execute a work which will begin +the art of sculpture nobly in our country. + + * * * * * + +My curiosity led me into a strange scene to-day. I had observed for +some time among the placards upon the walls an advertisement of an +exhibition of "fighting animals," at the _Barriére du Combat_. I am +disposed to see almost any sight _once_, particularly where it is, +like this, a regular establishment, and, of course, an exponent of the +popular taste. The place of the "_Combats des Animaux_," is in one of +the most obscure suburbs, outside the walls, and I found it with +difficulty. After wandering about in dirty lanes for an hour or two, +inquiring for it in vain, the cries of the animals directed me to a +walled place, separated from the other houses of the suburb, at the +gate of which a man was blowing a trumpet. I purchased a ticket of an +old woman who sat shivering in the porter's lodge; and, finding I was +an hour too early for the fights, I made interest with a +savage-looking fellow, who was carrying in tainted meat, to see the +interior of the establishment. I followed him through a side gate, and +we passed into a narrow alley, lined with stone kennels, to each of +which was confined a powerful dog, with just length of chain enough to +prevent him from reaching the tenant of the opposite hole. There were +several of these alleys, containing, I should think, two hundred dogs +in all. They were of every breed of strength and ferocity, and all of +them perfectly frantic with rage or hunger, with the exception of a +pair of noble-looking black dogs, who stood calmly at the mouths of +their kennels; the rest struggled and howled incessantly, straining +every muscle to reach us, and resuming their fierceness toward each +other when we had passed by. They all bore, more or less, the marks of +severe battles; one or two with their noses split open, and still +unhealed; several with their necks bleeding and raw, and galled +constantly with the iron collar, and many with broken legs, but all +apparently so excited as to be insensible to suffering. After +following my guide very unwillingly through the several alleys, +deafened with the barking and howling of the savage occupants, I was +taken to the department of wild animals. Here were all the tenants of +the menagerie, kept in dens, opening by iron doors upon the pit in +which they fought. Like the dogs, they were terribly wounded; one of +the bears especially, whose mouth was torn all off from his jaws, +leaving his teeth perfectly exposed, and red with the continually +exuding blood. In one of the dens lay a beautiful deer, with one of +his haunches severely mangled, who, the man told me, had been hunted +round the pit by the dogs but a day or two before. He looked up at us, +with his large soft eye, as we passed, and, lying on the damp stone +floor, with his undressed wounds festering in the chilly atmosphere of +mid-winter, he presented a picture of suffering which made me ashamed +to the soul of my idle curiosity. + +The spectators began to collect, and the pit was cleared. Two thirds +of those in the amphitheatre were Englishmen, most of whom were +amateurs, who had brought dogs of their own to pit against the regular +mastiffs of the establishment. These were despatched first. A strange +dog was brought in by the collar, and loosed in the arena, and a +trained dog let in upon him. It was a cruel business. The sleek, +well-fed, good-natured animal was no match for the exasperated, hungry +savage he was compelled to encounter. One minute, in all the joy of a +release from his chain, bounding about the pit, and fawning upon his +master, and the next attacked by a furious mastiff, who was taught to +fasten on him at the first onset in a way that deprived him at once of +his strength; it was but a murderous exhibition of cruelty. The +combats between two of the trained dogs, however, were more equal. +These succeeded to the private contests, and were much more severe and +bloody. There was a small terrier among them, who disabled several +dogs successively, by catching at their fore-legs, and breaking them +instantly with a powerful jerk of his body. I was very much interested +in one of the private dogs, a large yellow animal, of a noble +expression of countenance, who fought several times very unwillingly, +but always gallantly and victoriously. There was a majesty about him, +which seemed to awe his antagonists. He was carried off in his +master's arms, bleeding and exhausted, after punishing the best dogs +of the establishment. + +The baiting of the wild animals succeeded the canine combats. Several +dogs (Irish, I was told), of a size and ferocity such as I had never +before seen, were brought in, and held in the leash opposite the den +of the bear whose head was so dreadfully mangled. + +The door was then opened by the keeper, but poor bruin shrunk from the +contest. The dogs became unmanageable at the sight of him, however, +and, fastening a chain to his collar, they drew him out by main force, +and immediately closed the grating. He fought gallantly, and gave more +wounds than he received, for his shaggy coat protected his body +effectually. The keepers rushed in and beat off the dogs, when they +had nearly finished peeling the remaining flesh from his head; and the +poor creature, perfectly blind and mad with pain, was dragged into his +den again, to await another day of _amusement_! + +I will not disgust you with more of these details. They fought several +foxes and wolves afterward, and, last of all, one of the small donkeys +of the country, a creature not so large as some of the dogs, was led +in, and the mastiffs loosed upon her. The pity and indignation I felt +at first at the cruelty of baiting so unwarlike an animal, I soon +found was quite unnecessary. She was the severest opponent the dogs +had yet found. She went round the arena at full gallop, with a dozen +savage animals springing at her throat, but she struck right and left +with her fore-legs, and at every kick with her heels threw one of them +clear across the pit. One or two were left motionless on the field, +and others carried off with their ribs kicked in, and their legs +broken, while their inglorious antagonist escaped almost unhurt. One +of the mastiffs fastened on her ear and threw her down, in the +beginning of the chase, but she apparently received no other injury. + +I had remained till the close of the exhibition with some violence to +my feelings, and I was very glad to get away. Nothing would tempt me +to expose myself to a similar disgust again. How the intelligent and +gentlemanly Englishmen whom I saw there, and whom I have since met in +the most refined society of Paris, can make themselves familiar, as +they evidently were, with a scene so brutal, I cannot very well +conceive. + + + + +LETTER IX. + + MALIBRAN--PARIS AT MIDNIGHT--A MOB, ETC. + + +Our beautiful and favorite MALIBRAN is playing in Paris this winter. I +saw her last night in Desdemona. The other theatres are so attractive, +between Taglioni, Robert le Diable (the new opera), Leontine Fay, and +the political pieces constantly coming out, that I had not before +visited the Italian opera. Madame Malibran is every way changed. She +sings, unquestionably, better than when in America. Her voice is +firmer, and more under control, but it has lost that gushing wildness, +that brilliant daringness of execution, that made her singing upon our +boards so indescribably exciting and delightful. Her person is perhaps +still more changed. The round, graceful fulness of her limbs and +features has yielded to a half-haggard look of care and exhaustion, +and I could not but think that there was more than Desdemona's +fictitious wretchedness in the expression of her face. Still, her +forehead and eyes have a beauty that is not readily lost, and she will +be a strikingly interesting, and even splendid creature, as long as +she can play. Her acting was extremely impassioned; and in the more +powerful passages of her part, she exceeded everything I had +conceived of the capacity of the human voice for pathos and melody. +The house was crowded, and the applause was frequent and universal. + +Madame Malibran, as you probably know, is divorced from the man whose +name she bears, and has married a violinist of the Italian orchestra. +She is just now in a state of health that will require immediate +retirement from the stage, and, indeed, has played already too long. +She came forward after the curtain dropped, in answer to the continual +demand of the audience, leaning heavily on Rubini, and was evidently +so exhausted as to be scarcely able to stand. She made a single +gesture, and was led off immediately, with her head drooping on her +breast, amid the most violent acclamations. She is a perfect passion +with the French, and seems to have out-charmed their usual caprice. + + * * * * * + +It was a lovely night, and after the opera I walked home. I reside a +long distance from the places of public amusement. Dr. Howe and myself +had stopped at a _café_ on the Italian Boulevards an hour, and it was +very late. The streets were nearly deserted--here and there a solitary +cabriolet with the driver asleep under his wooden apron, or the +motionless figure of a municipal guardsman, dozing upon his horse, +with his helmet and brazen armor glistening in the light of the lamps. +Nothing has impressed me more, by the way, than a body of these men +passing me in the night. I have once or twice met the King returning +from the theatre with a guard, and I saw them once at midnight on an +extraordinary patrol winding through the arch into the Place +Carrousel. Their equipments are exceedingly warlike (helmets of +brass, and coats of mail), and, with the gleam of the breast-plates +through their horsemen's cloaks, the tramp of hoofs echoing through +the deserted streets, and the silence and order of their march, it was +quite a realization of the descriptions of chivalry. + +We kept along the Boulevards to the Rue Richelieu. A carriage, with +footmen in livery, had just driven up to Frascati's, and, as we +passed, a young man of uncommon personal beauty jumped out and entered +that palace of gamblers. By his dress he was just from a ball, and the +necessity of excitement after a scene meant to be so gay, was an +obvious if not a fair satire on the happiness of the "gay" circle in +which he evidently moved. We turned down the Passage Panorama, perhaps +the most crowded thoroughfare in all Paris, and traversed its long +gallery without meeting a soul. The widely-celebrated _patisserie_ of +Felix, the first pastry-cook in the world, was the only shop open from +one extremity to the other. The guard, in his gray capote, stood +looking in at the window, and the girl, who had served the palates of +half the fashion and rank of Paris since morning, sat nodding fast +asleep behind the counter, paying the usual fatiguing penalty of +notoriety. The clock struck two as we passed the _façade_ of the +Bourse. This beautiful and central square is, night and day, the grand +rendezvous of public vice; and late as the hour was, its _pavé_ was +still thronged with flaunting and painted women of the lowest +description, promenading without cloaks or bonnets, and addressing +every passer-by. + +The Palais Royal lay in our way, just below the Bourse, and we entered +its magnificent court with an exclamation of new pleasure. Its +thousand lamps were all burning brilliantly, the long avenues of trees +were enveloped in a golden atmosphere created by the bright radiation +of light through the mist, the Corinthian pillars and arches retreated +on either side from the eye in distinct and yet mellow perspective, +the fountain filled the whole palace with its rich murmur, and the +broad marble-paved galleries, so thronged by day, were as silent and +deserted as if the drowsy _gens d'armes_ standing motionless on their +posts were the only living beings that inhabited it. It was a scene +really of indescribable impressiveness. No one who has not seen this +splendid palace, enclosing with its vast colonnades so much that is +magnificent, can have an idea of its effect upon the imagination. I +had seen it hitherto only when crowded with the gay and noisy idlers +of Paris, and the contrast of this with the utter solitude it now +presented--not a single footfall to be heard on its floors, yet every +lamp burning bright, and the statues and flowers and fountains all +illuminated as if for a revel--was one of the most powerful and +captivating that I have ever witnessed. We loitered slowly down one of +the long galleries, and it seemed to me more like some creation of +enchantment than the public haunt it is of pleasure and merchandise. A +single figure, wrapped in a cloak, passed hastily by us and entered +the door to one of the celebrated "hells," in which the playing scarce +commences till this hour--but we met no other human being. + +We passed on from the grand court to the Galerie Nemours. This, as you +may find in the descriptions, is a vast hall, standing between the +east and west courts of the Palais Royal. It is sometimes called the +"glass gallery." The roof is of glass, and the shops, with fronts +entirely of windows, are separated only by long mirrors, reaching in +the shape of pillars from the roof to the floor. The pavement is +tesselated, and at either end stand two columns completing its form, +and dividing it from the other galleries into which it opens. The +shops are among the costliest in Paris; and what with the vast +proportions of the hall, its beautiful and glistening material, and +the lightness and grace of its architecture, it is, even when +deserted, one of the most fairy-like places in this fantastic city. It +is the lounging place of military men particularly; and every evening +from six to midnight, it is thronged by every class of gayly dressed +people, officers off duty, soldiers, polytechnic scholars, ladies, and +strangers of every costume and complexion, promenading to and fro in +the light of the _cafés_ and the dazzling shops, sheltered completely +from the weather, and enjoying, without expense or ceremony, a scene +more brilliant than the most splendid ball-room in Paris. We lounged +up and down the long echoing pavement an hour. It was like some kingly +"banquet hall deserted." The lamps burned dazzlingly bright, the +mirrors multiplied our figures into shadowy and silent attendants, and +our voices echoed from the glittering roof in the utter stillness of +the hour, as if we had broken in, Thalaba-like, upon some magical +palace of silence. + +It is singular how much the differences of time and weather affect +scenery. The first sunshine I saw in Paris, unsettled all my previous +impressions completely. I had seen every place of interest through the +dull heavy atmosphere of a week's rain, and it was in such leaden +colors alone that the finer squares and palaces had become familiar to +me. The effect of a clear sun upon them was wonderful. The sudden +gilding of the dome of the Invalides by Napoleon must have been +something like it. I took advantage of it to see everything over +again, and it seemed to me like another city. I never realized so +forcibly the beauty of sunshine. Architecture, particularly, is +nothing without it. Everything looks heavy and flat. The tracery of +the windows and relievos, meant to be definite and airy, appears +clumsy and confused, and the whole building flattens into a solid +mass, without design or beauty. + + * * * * * + +I have spent the whole day in a Paris mob. The arrival of General +Romarino and some of his companions from Warsaw, gave the malcontents +a plausible opportunity of expressing their dislike to the measures of +government; and, under cover of a public welcome to this distinguished +Pole, they assembled in immense numbers at the Port St. Denis, and on +the Boulevard Montmartre. It was very exciting altogether. The cavalry +were out, and patroled the streets in companies, charging upon the +crowd wherever there was a stand; the troops of the line marched up +and down the Boulevards, continually dividing the masses of people, +and forbidding any one to stand still. The shops were all shut, in +anticipation of an affray. The students endeavored to cluster, and +resisted, as far as they dared, the orders of the soldiery; and from +noon till night there was every prospect of a quarrel. The French are +a fine people under excitement. Their handsome and ordinarily +heartless faces become very expressive under the stronger emotions; +and their picturesque dresses and violent gesticulation, set off a +popular tumult exceedingly. I have been highly amused all day, and +have learned a great deal of what it is very difficult for a foreigner +to acquire--the language of French passion. They express themselves +very forcibly when angry. The constant irritation kept up by the +intrusion of the cavalry upon the sidewalks, and the rough manner of +dispersing gentlemen by sabre-blows and kicks with the stirrup, gave +me sufficient opportunity of judging. I was astonished, however, that +their summary mode of proceeding was borne at all. It is difficult to +mix in such a vast body, and not catch its spirit, and I found myself, +without knowing why, or rather with a full conviction that the +military measures were necessary and right, entering with all my heart +into the rebellious movements of the students, and boiling with +indignation at every dispersion by force. The students of Paris are +probably the worst subjects the king has. They are mostly young men of +from twenty to twenty-five, full of bodily vigor and enthusiasm, and +excitable to the last degree. Many of them are Germans, and no small +proportion Americans. They make a good _amalgam_ for a mob, dress +being the last consideration, apparently, with a medical or law +student in Paris. I never saw such a collection of atrocious-looking +fellows as are to be met at the lectures. The polytechnic scholars, on +the other hand, are the finest-looking body of young men I ever saw. +Aside from their uniform, which is remarkably neat and beautiful, +their figures and faces seem picked for spirit and manliness. They +have always a distinguished air in a crowd, and it is easy, after +seeing them, to imagine the part they played as leaders in the +revolution of the three days. + +Contrary to my expectation, night came on without any serious +encounter. One or two individuals attempted to resist the authority of +the troops, and were considerably bruised; and one young man, a +student, had three of his fingers cut off by the stroke of a dragoon's +sabre. Several were arrested, but by eight o'clock all was quiet, and +the shops on the Boulevards once more exposed their tempting goods, +and lit up their brilliant mirrors without fear. The people thronged +to the theatres to see the political pieces, and evaporate their +excitement in cheers at the liberal allusions; and so ends a tumult +that threatened danger, but operated, perhaps, as a healthful vent for +the accumulating disorders of public opinion. + + + + +LETTER X. + + GARDEN OF THE TUILERIES--FASHIONABLE DRIVES--FRENCH + OMNIBUSES--CHEAP RIDING--SIGHTS--STREET-BEGGARS--IMPOSTORS, + ETC. + + +The garden of the Tuileries is an idle man's paradise. Magnificent as +it is in extent, sculptures, and cultivation, we all know that statues +may be too dumb, gravel walks too long and level, and trees and +flowers and fountains a little too Platonic, with any degree of +beauty. But the Tuileries are peopled at all hours of sunshine with, +to me, the most lovely objects in the world--children. You may stop a +minute, perhaps, to look at the thousand gold fishes in the basin +under the palace-windows, or follow the swans for a single voyage +round the fountain in the broad avenue--but you will sit on your hired +chair (at this season) under the shelter of the sunny wall, and gaze +at the children chasing about, with their attending Swiss maids, till +your heart has outwearied your eyes, or the palace-clock strikes five. +I have been there repeatedly since I have been in Paris, and have seen +nothing like the children. They move my heart always, more than +anything under heaven; but a French child, with an accent that all +your paid masters cannot give, and manners, in the midst of its +romping, that mock to the life the air and courtesy for which Paris +has a name over the world, is enough to make one forget Napoleon, +though the column of Vendome throws its shadow within sound of their +voices. Imagine sixty-seven acres of beautiful creatures (that is the +extent of the garden, and I have not seen such a thing as an _ugly_ +French child)--broad avenues stretching away as far as you can see, +covered with little foreigners (so they seem to _me_), dressed in gay +colors, and laughing and romping and talking French, in all the +amusing mixture of baby passions and grown-up manners, and answer +me--is it not a sight better worth seeing than all the grand palaces +that shut it in? + +The Tuileries are certainly very magnificent, and, to walk across from +the Seine to the Rue Rivoli, and look up the endless walks and under +the long perfect arches cut through the trees, may give one a very +pretty surprise for once--but a winding lane is a better place to +enjoy the loveliness of green leaves, and a single New England elm, +letting down its slender branches to the ground in the inimitable +grace of nature, has, to my eye, more beauty than all the clipped +vistas from the king's palace to the _Arc de l'Etoile_, the _Champs +Elysées_ inclusive. + +One of the finest things in Paris, by the way, is the view from the +terrace in front of the palace to this "Arch of Triumph," commenced by +Napoleon at the extremity of the "Elysian Fields," a single avenue of +about two miles. The part beyond the gardens is the _fashionable +drive_, and, by a saunter on horseback to the _Bois de Boulogne_, +between four and five, on a pleasant day, one may see all the dashing +equipages in Paris. Broadway, however, would eclipse everything here, +either for beauty of construction or appointments. Our carriages are +every way handsomer and better hung, and the horses are harnessed more +compactly and gracefully. The lumbering vehicles here make a great +show, it is true--for the box, with its heavy hammer-cloth, is level +with the top, and the coachman and footmen and outriders are very +striking in their bright liveries; but the elegant, convenient, +light-running establishments of Philadelphia and New York, excel them, +out of all comparison, for taste and fitness. The best driving I have +seen is by the king's whips, and really it is beautiful to see his +retinue on the road, four or five coaches and six, with footmen and +outriders in scarlet liveries, and the finest horses possible for +speed and action. His majesty generally takes the outer edge of the +_Champs Elysées_, on the bank of the river, and the rapid glimpses of +the bright show through the breaks in the wood, are exceedingly +picturesque. + +There is nothing in Paris that looks so outlandish to my eye as the +common vehicles. I was thinking of it this morning as I stood waiting +for the _St. Sulpice omnibus_, at the corner of the Rue Vivienne, the +great thoroughfare between the Boulevards and the Palais Royal. There +was the hack-cabriolet lumbering by in the fashion of two centuries +ago, with a horse and harness that look equally ready to drop in +pieces; the hand-cart with a stout dog harnessed under the axle-tree, +drawing with twice the strength of his master; the market-waggon, +driven always by women, and drawn generally by a horse and mule +abreast, the horse of the Norman breed, immensely large, and the mule +about the size of a well-grown bull-dog; a vehicle of which I have not +yet found out the name, a kind of demi-omnibus, with two wheels and a +single horse, and carrying nine; and last, but not least amusing, a +small close carriage for one person, swung upon two wheels and drawn +by a servant, very much used, apparently, by elderly women and +invalids, and certainly most admirable conveniences either for the +economy or safety of getting about a city. It would be difficult to +find an American servant who would draw in harness as they do here; +and it is amusing to see a stout, well-dressed fellow, strapped to a +carriage, and pulling along the _pavés_, sometimes at a jog-trot, +while his master or mistress sits looking unconcernedly out of the +window. + +I am not yet decided whether the French are the best or the worst +drivers in the world. If the latter they certainly have most +miraculous escapes. A cab-driver never pulls the reins except upon +great emergencies, or for a right-about turn, and his horse has a most +ludicrous aversion to a straight line. The streets are built inclining +toward the centre, with the gutter in the middle, and it is the habit +of all cabriolet-horses to run down one side and up the other +constantly at such sudden angles that it seems to you they certainly +will go through the shop windows. This, of course, is very dangerous +to foot-passengers in a city where there are no side-walks; and, as a +consequence, the average number of complaints to the police of Paris +for people killed by careless driving, is about four hundred annually. +There are probably twice the number of legs broken. One becomes vexed +in riding with these fellows, and I have once or twice undertaken to +get into a French passion, and insist upon driving myself. But I have +never yet met with an accident. "_Gar-r-r-r-e!_" sings out the driver, +rolling the word off his tongue like a bullet from a shovel, but never +thinking to lift his loose reins from the dasher, while the frightened +passenger, without looking round, makes for the first door with an +alacrity that shows a habit of expecting very little from the +_cocher's_ skill. + +Riding is very cheap in Paris, if managed a little. The city is +traversed constantly in every direction by omnibuses, and you may go +from the Tuileries to _Père la Chaise_, or from St. Sulpice to the +Italian Boulevards (the two diagonals), or take the "_Tous les +Boulevards_" and ride quite round the city for six sous the distance. +The "_fiacre_" is like our own hacks, except that you pay but "twenty +_sous_ the course," and fill the vehicle with your friends if you +please; and, more cheap and comfortable still, there is the universal +cabriolet, which for "fifteen _sous_ the course," or "twenty the +hour," will give you at least three times the value of your money, +with the advantage of seeing ahead and talking bad French with the +driver. + +Everything in France is either _grotesque_ or _picturesque_. I have +been struck with it this morning, while sitting at my window, looking +upon the close inner court of the hotel. One would suppose that a +_pavé_ between four high walls, would offer very little to seduce the +eye from its occupation; but on the contrary, one's whole time may be +occupied in watching the various sights presented in constant +succession. First comes the itinerant cobbler, with his seat and +materials upon his back, and coolly selecting a place against the +wall, opens his shop under your window, and drives his trade, most +industriously, for half an hour. If you have anything to mend, he is +too happy; if not he has not lost his time, for he pays no rent, and +is all the while at work. He packs up again, bows to the _concierge_, +as politely as his load will permit, and takes his departure, in the +hope to find your shoes more worn another day. Nothing could be more +striking than his whole appearance. He is met in the gate, perhaps, +by an old clothes man, who will buy or sell, and compliment you for +nothing, cheapening your coat by calling the Virgin to witness that +your shape is so genteel that it will not fit one man in a thousand; +or by a family of singers, with a monkey to keep time; or a regular +beggar, who, however, does not dream of asking charity till he has +done something to amuse you; after these, perhaps, will follow a +succession of objects singularly peculiar to this fantastic +metropolis; and if one could separate from the poor creatures the +knowledge of the cold and hunger they suffer, wandering about, +houseless, in the most inclement weather, it would be easy to imagine +it a diverting pantomime, and give them the poor pittance they ask, as +the price of an amused hour. An old man has just gone from the court +who comes regularly twice a week, with a long beard, perfectly white, +and a strange kind of an equipage. It is an organ, set upon a rude +carriage, with four small wheels, and drawn by a mule, of the most +diminutive size, looking (if it were not for the venerable figure +crouched upon the seat) like some roughly-contrived plaything. The +whole affair, harness and all, is evidently his own work; and it is +affecting to see the difficulty, and withal, the habitual apathy with +which the old itinerant fastens his rope-reins beside him, and +dismounts to grind his one--solitary--eternal tune, for charity. + +Among the thousands of wretched objects in Paris (they make the heart +sick with their misery at every turn), there is, here and there, one +of an interesting character; and it is pleasant to select them, and +make a habit of your trifling gratuity. Strolling about, as I do, +constantly, and letting everybody and everything amuse me that will, I +have made several of these penny-a-day acquaintances, and find them +very agreeable breaks to the heartless solitude of a crowd. There is a +little fellow who stands by the gate of the Tuileries, opening to the +Place Vendome, who, with all the rags and dirt of a street-boy, begs +with an air of superiority that is absolutely patronizing. One feels +obliged to the little varlet for the privilege of giving to him--his +smile and manner are so courtly. His face is beautiful, dirty as it +is; his voice is clear, and unaffected, and his thin lips have an +expression of high-bred contempt, that amuses me a little, and puzzles +me a great deal. I think he must have gentleman's blood in his veins, +though he possibly came indirectly by it. There is a little Jewess +hanging about the Louvre, who begs with her dark eyes very eloquently; +and in the _Rue de la Paix_ there may be found at all hours, a +melancholy, sick-looking Italian boy, with his hand in his bosom, +whose native language and picture-like face are a diurnal pleasure to +me, cheaply bought with the poor trifle which makes him happy. It is +surprising how many devices there are in the streets for attracting +attention and pity. There is a woman always to be seen upon the +Boulevards, playing a solemn tune on a violin, with a child as pallid +as ashes, lying, apparently, asleep in her lap. I suspected, after +seeing it once or twice, that it was wax, and a day or two since I +satisfied myself of the fact, and enraged the mother excessively by +touching its cheek. It represents a sick child to the life, and any +one less idle and curious would be deceived. I have often seen people +give her money with the most unsuspecting look of sympathy, though it +would be natural enough to doubt the maternal kindness of keeping a +dying child in the open air in mid-winter. Then there is a woman +without hands, making braid with wonderful adroitness; and a man +without legs or arms, singing, with his hat set appealingly on the +ground before him; and cripples, exposing their abbreviated limbs, +and telling their stories over and over, with or without listeners, +from morning till night; and every description of appeal to the most +acute sympathies, mingled with all the gayety, show, and fashion, of +the most crowded promenade in Paris. + +In the present dreadful distress of trade, there are other still more +painful cases of misery. It is not uncommon to be addressed in the +street by men of perfectly respectable appearance, whose faces bear +every mark of strong mental struggle, and often of famishing +necessity, with an appeal for the smallest sum that will buy food. The +look of misery is so general, as to mark the whole population. It has +struck me most forcibly everywhere, notwithstanding the gayety of the +national character, and, I am told by intelligent Frenchmen, it is +peculiar to the time, and felt and observed by all. Such things +startle one back to nature sometimes. It is difficult to look away +from the face of a starving man, and see the splendid equipages, and +the idle waste upon trifles, within his very sight, and reconcile the +contrast with any belief of the existence of human pity--still more +difficult, perhaps, to admit without reflection, the right of one +human being to hold in a shut hand, at will, the very life and breath +for which his fellow-creatures are perishing at his door. It is this +that is visited back so terribly in the horrors of a revolution. + + + + +LETTER XI. + + FOYETIÉR--THE THRACIAN GLADIATOR--MADEMOISELLE MARS--DOCTOR + FRANKLIN'S RESIDENCE IN PARIS--ANNUAL BALL FOR THE POOR. + + +I had the pleasure to day of being introduced to the young sculptor +Foyetiér, the author of the new statue on the terrace of the +Tuileries. Aside from his genius, he is interesting from a +circumstance connected with his early history. He was a herd-driver in +one of the provinces, and amused himself in his leisure moments with +the carving of rude images, which he sold for a sous or two on +market-days in the provincial town. The celebrated Dr. Gall fell in +with him accidentally, and felt of his head, _en passant_. The bump +was there which contains his present greatness, and the phrenologist +took upon himself the risk of his education in the arts. He is now the +first sculptor, beyond all competition, in France. His "_Spartacus_," +the Thracian gladiator, is the admiration of Paris. It stands in front +of the palace, in the most conspicuous part of the regal gardens, and +there are hundreds of people about the pedestal at all hours of the +day. The gladiator has broken his chain, and stands with his weapon +in his hand, every muscle and feature breathing action, his body +thrown back, and his right foot planted powerfully for a spring. It is +a gallant thing. One's blood stirs to look at it. + +_Foyetiér_ is a young man, I should think about thirty. He is small, +very plain in appearance; but he has a rapid, earnest eye, and a mouth +of singular suavity of expression. I liked him extremely. His +celebrity seems not to have trenched a step on the nature of his +character. His genius is everywhere allowed, and he works for the king +altogether, his majesty bespeaking everything he attempts, even in the +model; but he is, certainly, of all geniuses, one of the most modest. + + * * * * * + +The celebrated Mars has come out from her retirement once more, and +commenced an engagement at the _Theatre Français_. I went a short time +since to see her play in Tartuffe. This stage is the home of the true +French drama. Here Talma played when he and Mademoiselle Mars were the +delight of Napoleon and of France. I have had few gratifications +greater than that of seeing this splendid woman re-appear in the place +were she won her brilliant reputation. The play, too, was _Moliere's_, +and it was here that it was first performed. Altogether it was like +something plucked back from history; a renewal, as in a magic mirror, +of glories gone by. + +I could scarce believe my eyes when she appeared as the "wife of +Argon." She looked about twenty-five. Her step was light and graceful; +Her voice was as unlike that of a woman of sixty as could well be +imagined; sweet, clear, and under a control which gives her a power +of expression I never had conceived before; her mouth had the +definite, firm play of youth; her teeth (though the dentist might do +that) were white and perfect, and her eyes can have lost none of their +fire, I am sure. I never saw so _quiet_ a player. Her gestures were +just perceptible, no more; and yet they were done so exquisitely at +the right moment--so unconsciously, as if she had not meant them, that +they were more forcible than even the language itself. She repeatedly +drew a low murmur of delight from the whole house with a single play +of expression across her face, while the other characters were +speaking, or by a slight movement of her fingers, in pantomimic +astonishment or vexation. It was really something new to me. I had +never before seen a first-rate female player in _comedy_. Leontine Fay +is inimitable in tragedy; but, if there be any comparison between +them, it is that this beautiful young creature overpowers the _heart_ +with her nature, while Mademoiselle Mars satisfies the uttermost +demand of the _judgment_ with her art. + + * * * * * + +I yesterday visited the house occupied by Franklin while he was in +France. It is one of the most beautiful country residences in the +neighborhood of Paris, standing on the elevated ground of Passy, and +overlooking the whole city on one side, and the valley of the Seine +for a long distance toward Versailles on the other. The house is +otherwise celebrated. Madame de Genlis lived there while the present +king was her pupil; and Louis XV. occupied it six months for the +country air, while under the infliction of the gout--its neighborhood +to the palace probably rendering it preferable to the more distant +_chateaux_ of St. Cloud or Versailles. Its occupants would seem to +have been various enough, without the addition of a Lieutenant-General +of the British army, whose hospitality makes it delightful at present. +The lightning-rod, which was raised by Franklin, and which was the +first conductor used in France, is still standing. The gardens are +large, and form a sort of terrace, with the house on the front edge. +It must be one of the sweetest places in the world in summer. + + * * * * * + +The great annual ball for the poor was given at the _Academie Royale_, +a few nights since. This is attended by the king and royal family, and +is ordinarily the most splendid affair of the season. It is managed by +twenty or thirty lady-patronesses, who have the control of the +tickets; and, though by no means exclusive, it is kept within very +respectable limits; and, if one is content to float with the tide, and +forego dancing, is an unusually comfortable and well-behaved +spectacle. + +I went with a large party at the early hour of eight. We fell into the +train of carriages, advancing slowly between files of dragoons, and +stood before the door in our turn in the course of an hour. The +staircases were complete orangeries, with immense mirrors at every +turn, and soldiers on guard, and servants in livery, from top to +bottom. The long saloon, lighted by ten chandeliers, was dressed and +hung with wreaths as a receiving-room; and passing on through the +spacious lobbies, which were changed into groves of pines and exotics, +we entered upon the grand scene. The _coup d'oeil_ would have +astonished Aladdin. The theatre, which is the largest in Paris, and +gorgeously built and ornamented, was thrown into one vast ball-room, +ascending gradually from the centre to platforms raised at either end, +one of which was occupied by the throne and seats for the king's +family and suite. The four rows of boxes were crowded with ladies, and +the house presented, from the floor to the _paradis_, one glittering +and waving wall of dress, jewelry, and feathers. An orchestra of near +a hundred musicians occupied the centre of the hall; and on either +side of them swept by the long, countless multitudes of people, +dressed with a union of taste and show; while, instead of the black +coats which darken the complexion of a party in a republican country, +every other gentleman was in a gay uniform; and polytechnic scholars, +with their scarlet-faced coats, officers of the "National Guard" and +the "line," gentlemen of the king's household, and foreign ministers, +and _attachés_, presented a variety of color and splendor which +nothing could exceed. + +The theatre itself was not altered, except by the platform occupied by +the king; it is sufficiently splendid as it stands; but the stage, +whose area is much larger than that of the pit, was hung in rich +drapery as a vast tent, and garnished to profusion with flags and +arms. Along the sides, on a level with the lower row of boxes, +extended galleries of crimson velvet, festooned with flowers. These +were filled with ladies, and completed a circle about the house of +beauty and magnificence, of which the king and his dazzling suite +formed the _corona_. Chandeliers were hung close together from one end +of the hall to the other. I commenced counting them once or twice, but +some bright face flitting by in the dance interrupted me. An English +girl near me counted fifty-five, and I think there must have been +more. The blaze of light was almost painful. The air glittered, and +the fine grain of the most delicate complexions was distinctly +visible. It is impossible to describe the effect of so much light and +space and music crowded into one spectacle. The vastness of the hall, +so long that the best sight could not distinguish a figure at the +opposite extremity, and so high as to absorb and mellow the vibration +of a hundred instruments--the gorgeous sweep of splendor from one +platform to the other, absolutely drowning the eye in a sea of gay +colors, nodding feathers, jewelry, and military equipment--the +delicious music, the strange faces, dresses, and tongues, (one-half of +the multitude at least being foreigners), the presence of the king, +and the gallant show of uniforms in his conspicuous _suite_, combined +to make up a scene more than sufficiently astonishing. I felt the +whole night the smothering consciousness of senses too narrow--eyes, +ears, language, all too limited for the demand made upon them. + +The king did not arrive till after ten. He entered by a silken curtain +in the rear of the platform on which seats were placed for his family. +The "_Vive le Roi_" was not so hearty as to drown the music, but his +majesty bowed some twenty times very graciously, and the good-hearted +queen curtsied, and kept a smile on her excessively plain face, till I +felt the muscles of my own ache for her. King Philippe looks anxious. +By the remarks of the French people about me when he entered, he has +reason for it. I observed that the polytechnic scholars all turned +their backs upon him; and one exceedingly handsome, spirited-looking +boy, standing just at my side, muttered a "_sacré!_" and bit his lip, +with a very revolutionary air, at the continuance of the acclamation. +His majesty came down, and walked through the hall about midnight. His +eldest son, the Duke of Orleans, a handsome, unoffending-looking youth +of eighteen, followed him, gazing round upon the crowd with his mouth +open, and looking very much annoyed at his part of the pageant. The +young duke has a good figure, and is certainly a very beautiful +dancer. His mouth is loose and weak, and his eyes are as opaque as +agates. He wore the uniform of the _Garde Nationale_, which does not +become him. In ordinary gentleman's dress, he is a very authentical +copy of a Bond-street dandy, and looks as little like a Frenchman as +most of Stultz's subjects. He danced all the evening, and selected, +very popularly, decidedly the most vulgar women in the room, looking +all the while as one who had been petted by the finest women in France +(Leontine Fay among the number), might be supposed to look, under such +an infliction. The king's second son, the Duke of Nemours, pursued the +same policy. He has a brighter face than his brother, with hair almost +white, and dances extremely well. The second daughter is also much +prettier than the eldest. On the whole, the king's family is a very +plain, though a very amiable one, and the people seem attached to +them. + +These general descriptions, are, after all, very vague. Here I have +written half a sheet with a picture in my mind of which you are +getting no semblable idea. Language is a mere skeleton of such things. +The _Academie Royale_ should be borne over the water like the chapel +of Loretto, and set down in Broadway with all its lights, music, and +people, to give you half a notion of the "_Bal en faveur des +Pauvres_." And so it is with everything except the little histories of +one's own personal atmosphere, and that is the reason why egotism +should be held virtuous in a traveller, and the reason why one cannot +study Europe at home. + +After getting our American party places, I abandoned myself to the +strongest current, and went in search of "lions." The first face that +arrested my eye was that of the Duchess D'Istria, a woman celebrated +here for her extraordinary personal beauty. + +Directly opposite this lovely dutchess, in the other stage-box, sat +Donna Maria, the young Queen of Portugal, surrounded by her relatives. +The ex-empress, her mother, was on her right, her grandmother on her +left, and behind her some half dozen of her Portuguese cousins. She is +a little girl of twelve or fourteen, with a fat, heavy face, and a +remarkably pampered, sleepy look. She was dressed like an old woman, +and gaped incessantly the whole evening. The box was a perfect blaze +of diamonds. I never before realized the beauty of these splendid +stones. The necks, heads, arms, and waists of the ladies royal were +all streaming with light. The necklace of the empress mother +particularly flashed on the eye in every part of the house. By the +unceasing exclamations of the women, it was an unusually brilliant +show, even here. The little Donna has a fine, well-rounded chin; and +when she smiled in return to the king's bow, I thought I could see +more than a child's character in the expression of her mouth. I should +think a year or two of mental uneasiness might let out a look of +intelligence through her heavy features. She is likely to have it, I +think, with the doubtful fortunes that seem to beset her. + +I met Don Pedro often in society before his departure upon his +expedition. He is a short, well-made man, of great personal +accomplishment, and a very bad expression, rather aggravated by an +unfortunate cutaneous eruption. The first time I saw him, I was induced +to ask who he was, from the apparent coldness and dislike with which +he was treated by a lady whose beauty had strongly arrested my attention. +He sat by her on a sofa in a very crowded party, and seemed to be +saying something very earnestly, which made the lady's Spanish eyes +flash fire, and brought a curl of very positive anger upon a pair of +the loveliest lips imaginable. She was a slender, aristocratic-looking +creature, and dressed most magnificently. After glancing at them a +minute or two, I made up my mind that, from the authenticity of his +dress and appointments, he was an Englishman, and that she was some +French lady of rank whom he was particularly annoying with his +addresses. On inquiry, the gentleman proved to be Don Pedro, and the +lady the Countess de Lourle, _his sister_! I have often met her since, +and never without wondering how two of the same family could look so +utterly unlike each other. The Count de Lourle is called the Adonis of +Paris. He is certainly a very splendid fellow, and justifies the +romantic admiration of his wife, who married him clandestinely, giving +him her left hand in the ceremony, as is the etiquette, they say, when +a princess marries below her rank. One can not help looking with great +interest on a beautiful creature like this, who has broken away from +the imposing fetters of a royal sphere, to follow the dictates of +natural feeling. It does not occur so often in Europe that one may not +sentimentalize about it without the charge of affectation. + +To return to the ball. The king bowed himself out a little after +midnight, and with him departed most of the fat people, and all the +little girls. This made room enough to dance, and the French set +themselves at it in good earnest. I wandered about for an hour or two; +after wearying my imagination quite out in speculating on the +characters and rank of people whom I never saw before and shall +probably never see again, I mounted to the _paradis_ to take a last +look down upon the splendid scene, and made my exit. I should be quite +content never to go to such a ball again, though it was by far the +most splendid scene of the kind I ever saw. + + + + +LETTER XII. + + PLACE LOUIS XV.--PANORAMIC VIEW OF PARIS--A LITERARY CLUB + DINNER--THE GUESTS--THE PRESIDENT--THE EXILED POLES, ETC. + + +I have spent the day in a long stroll. The wind blew warm and +delicious from the south this morning, and the temptation to abandon +lessons and lectures was irresistible. Taking the _Arc de l'Etoile_ as +my extreme point I yielded to all the leisurely hinderances of +shop-windows, beggars, book-stalls, and views by the way. Among the +specimen-cards in an engraver's window I was amused at finding, in the +latest Parisian fashion, "HUSSEIN-PACHA, _Dey d'Algiers_." + +These delightful Tuileries! We rambled through them (I had met a +friend and countryman, and enticed him into my idle plans for the +day), and amused ourselves with the never-failing beauty and grace of +the French children for an hour. On the inner terrace we stopped to +look at the beautiful hotel of Prince Polignac, facing the Tuileries, +on the opposite bank. By the side of this exquisite little model of a +palace stands the superb commencement of Napoleon's ministerial +hotel, breathing of his glorious conception in every line of its +ruins. It is astonishing what a godlike impress that man left upon all +he touched. + +Every third or fourth child in the gardens was dressed in the full +uniform of the National Guard--helmet, sword, epaulets, and all. They +are ludicrous little caricatures, of course, but it inoculates them +with love of the corps, and it would be better if that were synonymous +with a love of liberal principals. The _Garde Nationale_ are supposed +to be more than half "Carlists" at this moment. + +We passed out by the guarded gate of the Tuileries to the _Place Louis +XV._ This square is a most beautiful spot, as a centre of unequalled +views, and yet a piece of earth so foully polluted with human blood +probably does not exist on the face of the globe. It divides the +Tuileries from the _Champs Elysées_, and ranges of course, in the long +broad avenue of two miles, stretching between the king's palace and +the _Arc de l'Etoile_. It is but a list of names to write down the +particular objects to be seen in such a view, but it commands, at the +extremities of its radii, the most princely edifices, seen hence with +the most advantageous foregrounds of space and avenue, and softened by +distance into the misty and unbroken surface of engraving. The king's +palace is on one hand, Napoleon's Arch at a distance of nearly two +miles on the other, Prince Talleyrand's regal dwelling behind, with +the church of Madelaine seen through the _Rue Royale_, while before +you, to the south, lies a picture of profuse splendor: the broad +Seine, spanned by bridges that are the admiration of Europe, and +crowded by specimens of architectural magnificence; the Chamber of +Deputies; and the _Palais Bourbon_, approached by the _Pont Louis +XVI._ with its gigantic statues and simple majesty of structure; and, +rising over all, the grand dome of the "_Invalides_," which Napoleon +gilded, to divert the minds of his subjects from his lost battle, and +which Peter the Great admired more than all Paris beside. What a spot +for a man to stand upon, with but one bosom to feel and one tongue to +express his wonder! + +And yet, of what, that should make a spot of earth sink to perdition, +has it not been the theatre? Here were beheaded the unfortunate Louis +XVI.--his wife, Marie Antoinette--his kinsman, Philip duke of Orleans, +and his sister Elizabeth; and here were guillotined the intrepid +Charlotte Corday, the deputy Brissot, and twenty of his colleagues, +and all the victims of the revolution of 1793, to the amount of two +thousand eight hundred; and here Robespierre and his cursed crew met +at last with their insufficient retribution; and, as if it were +destined to be the very blood-spot of the earth, here the fireworks, +which were celebrating the marriage of the same Louis that was +afterward brought hither to the scaffold, exploded, and killed +fourteen hundred persons. It has been the scene, also, of several +minor tragedies not worth mentioning in such a connexion. Were I a +Bourbon, and as unpopular as King Philippe I. at this moment, the view +of the Place Louis XV. from my palace windows would very much disturb +the beauty of the perspective. Without an _equivoque_, I should look +with a very ominous dissatisfaction on the "Elysian fields" that lie +beyond. + +We loitered slowly on to the _Barrier Neuilly_, just outside of which, +and right before the city gates, stands the Triumphal Arch. It has the +stamp of Napoleon--simple grandeur. The broad avenue from the +Tuileries swells slowly up to it for two miles, and the view of Paris +at its foot, even, is superb. We ascended to the unfinished roof, a +hundred and thirty-five feet from the ground, and saw the whole of the +mighty capital of France at a _coup d'oeil_--churches, palaces, +gardens; buildings heaped upon buildings clear over the edge of the +horizon, where the spires of the city in which you stand are scarcely +visible for the distance. + +I dined, a short time since, with the editors of the _Revue +Encyclopedique_ at their monthly reunion. This is a sort of club +dinner, to which the eminent contributors of the review invite once a +month all the strangers of distinction who happen to be in Paris. I +owed my invitation probably to the circumstance of my living with Dr. +Howe, who is considered the organ of American principles here, and +whose force of character has given him a degree of respect and +prominence not often attained by foreigners. It was the most +remarkable party, by far, that I had ever seen. There were nearly a +hundred guests, twenty or thirty of whom were distinguished Poles, +lately arrived from Warsaw. Generals Romarino and Langermann were +placed beside the president, and another general, whose name is as +difficult to remember as his face is to forget, and who is famous for +having been the last on the field, sat next to the head seat. Near him +were General Bernard and Dr. Bowring, with Sir Sidney Smith (covered +with orders, from every quarter of the world), and the president of +Colombia. After the usual courses of a French dinner, the president, +Mons. Julien, a venerable man with snow-white hair, addressed the +company. He expressed his pleasure at the meeting, with the usual +courtesies of welcome, and in the fervent manner of the old school of +French politeness; and then pausing a little, and lowering his voice, +with a very touching cadence, he looked around to the Poles, and began +to speak of their country. Every movement was instantly hushed about +the table--the guests leaned forward, some of them half rising in +their earnestness to hear; the old man's voice trembled, and sunk +lower; the Poles dropped their heads upon their bosoms, and the whole +company were strongly affected. His manner suddenly changed at this +moment, in a degree that would have seemed too dramatic, if the strong +excitement had not sustained him. He spoke indignantly of the Russian +barbarity toward Poland--assured the exiles of the strong sympathy +felt by the great mass of the French people in their cause, and +expressed his confident belief that the struggle was not yet done, and +the time was near when, with France at her back, Poland would rise and +be free. He closed, amid tumultuous acclamation, and all the Poles +near him kissed the old man, after the French manner, upon both his +cheeks. + +This speech was followed by several others, much to the same effect. +Dr. Bowring replied handsomely, in French, to some compliment paid to +his efforts on the "question of reform," in England. _Cesar Moreau_, +the great schemist, and founder of the _Academie d'Industrie_, said a +few very revolutionary things quite emphatically, rolling his fine +visionary-looking eyes about as if he saw the "shadows cast before" of +coming events; and then rose a speaker, whom I shall never forget. He +was a young Polish noble, of about nineteen, whose extreme personal +beauty and enthusiastic expression of countenance had particularly +arrested my attention in the drawing-room, before dinner. His person +was slender and graceful--his eye and mouth full of beauty and fire, +and his manner had a quiet native superiority, that would have +distinguished him anywhere. He had behaved very gallantly in the +struggle, and some allusion had been made to him in one of the +addresses. He rose modestly, and half unwillingly, and acknowledged +the kind wishes for his country in language of great elegance. He +then went on to speak of the misfortunes of Poland, and soon warmed +into eloquence of the most vivid earnestness and power. I never was +more moved by a speaker--he seemed perfectly unconscious of everything +but the recollections of his subject. His eyes swam with tears and +flashed with indignation alternately, and his refined, spirited mouth +assumed a play of varied expression, which, could it have been +arrested, would have made a sculptor immortal. I can hardly write +extravagantly of him, for all present were as much excited as myself. +One ceases to wonder at the desperate character of the attempt to +redeem the liberty of a land when he sees such specimens of its +people. I have seen hundreds of Poles, of all classes, in Paris, and I +have not yet met with a face of even common dulness among them. + +You have seen by the papers, I presume, that a body of several +thousand Poles fled from Warsaw, after the defeat, and took refuge in +the northern forests of Prussia. They gave up their arms under an +assurance from the king that they should have all the rights of +Prussian subjects. He found it politic afterward to recall his +protection, and ordered them back to Poland. They refused to go, and +were surrounded by a detachment of his army, and the orders given to +fire upon them. The soldiers refused, and the Poles, taking advantage +of the sympathy of the army, broke through the ranks, and escaped to +the forest, where, at the last news, they were armed with clubs, and +determined to defend themselves to the last. The consequence of a +return to Poland would be, of course, an immediate exile to Siberia. +The Polish committee, American and French, with General Lafayette at +their head, have appropriated a great part of their funds to the +relief of this body, and our countryman, Dr. Howe, has undertaken the +dangerous and difficult task of carrying it to them. He left Paris for +Brussels, with letters from the Polish generals, and advices from +Lafayette to all Polish committees upon his route, that they should +put all their funds into his hands. He is a gallant fellow, and will +succeed if any one can; but he certainly runs great hazard. God +prosper him! + + + + +LETTER XIII. + + THE GAMBLING-HOUSES OF PARIS. + + +I accepted, last night, from a French gentleman of high standing, a +polite offer of introduction to one of the exclusive gambling clubs +of Paris. With the understanding, of course, that it was only as a +spectator, my friend, whom I had met at a dinner party, despatched +a note from the table, announcing to the temporary master of +ceremonies his intention of presenting me. We went at eleven, in full +dress. I was surprised at the entrance with the splendor of the +establishment--gilt balustrades, marble staircases, crowds of servants +in full livery, and all the formal announcement of a court. Passing +through several ante-chambers, a heavy folding-door was thrown open, +and we were received by one of the noblest-looking men I have seen in +France--Count ----. I was put immediately at my ease by his dignified +and kind politeness; and after a little conversation in English, which +he spoke fluently, the entrance of some other person left me at +liberty to observe at my leisure. Everything about me had the impress +of the studied taste of high life. The lavish and yet soft disposition +of light, the harmony of color in the rich hangings and furniture, +the quiet manners and subdued tones of conversation, the respectful +deference of the servants, and the simplicity of the slight +entertainment, would have convinced me, without my Asmodeus, that I +was in no every-day atmosphere. Conversation proceeded for an hour, +while the members came dropping in from their evening engagements, and +a little after twelve a glass door was thrown open, and we passed from +the reception-room to the spacious suite of apartments intended for +play. One or two of the gentlemen entered the side rooms for billiards +and cards, but the majority closed about the table of hazard in the +central hall. I had never conceived so beautiful an apartment. It can +be described in two words--_columns_ and _mirrors_. There was nothing +else between the exquisitely-painted ceiling and the floor. The form +was circular, and the wall was laid with glass, interrupted only with +pairs of Corinthian pillars, with their rich capitals reflected and +re-reflected innumerably. It seemed like a hall of colonnades of +illimitable extent--the multiplication of the mirrors into each other +was so endless and illusive. I felt an unconquerable disposition to +abandon myself to a waking revery of pleasure; and as soon as the +attention of the company was perfectly engrossed by the silent +occupation before them, I sank upon a sofa, and gave my senses up for +a while to the fascination of the scene. My eye was intoxicated. As +far as my sight could penetrate, stretched apparently interminable +halls, carpeted with crimson, and studded with graceful columns and +groups of courtly figures, forming altogether, with its extent and +beauty, and in the subdued and skilfully-managed light, a picture +that, if real, would be one of unsurpassable splendor. I quite forgot +my curiosity to see the game. I had merely observed, when my companion +reminded me of the arrival of my own appointed hour for departure +that, whatever was lost or won, the rustling bills were passed from +one to the other with a quiet and imperturbable politeness, that +betrayed no sign either of chagrin or triumph; though, from the fact +that the transfers were in paper only, the stakes must have been +anything but trifling. Refusing a polite invitation to partake of the +supper, always in waiting, we took leave about two hours after +midnight. + +As we drove from the court, my companion suggested to me, that, since +we were out at so late an hour, we might as well look in for a moment +at the more accessible "hells," and, pulling the _cordon_, he ordered +to "_Frascati's_." This, you know of course, is the fashionable place +of ruin, and here the heroes of all novels, and the rakes of all +comedies, mar or make their fortunes. An evening dress, and the look +of a gentleman, are the only required passport. A servant in +attendance took our hats and canes, and we walked in without ceremony. +It was a different scene from the former. Four large rooms, plainly +but handsomely furnished, opened into each other, three of which were +devoted to play, and crowded with players. Elegantly-dressed women, +some of them with high pretensions to French beauty, sat and stood at +the table, watching their own stakes in the rapid games with fixed +attention. The majority of the gentlemen were English. The table was +very large, marked as usual with the lines and figures of the game, +and each person playing had a small rake in his hand, with which he +drew toward him his proportion of the winnings. I was disappointed at +the first glance in the faces: there was very little of the high-bred +courtesy I had seen at the club-house, but there was no very striking +exhibition of feeling, and I should think, in any but an extreme case, +the whispering silence and general quietness of the room would +repress it. After watching the variations of luck awhile, however, I +selected one or two pretty desperate losers, and a young Frenchman who +was a large winner, and confined my observation to them only. Among +the former was a girl of about eighteen, a mild, quiet-looking +creature, with her hair curling long on her neck, and hands childishly +small and white, who lost invariably. Two piles of five-franc pieces +and a small heap of gold lay on the table beside her, and I watched +her till she laid the last coin upon the losing color. She bore it +very well. By the eagerness with which, at every turn of the last +card, she closed her hand upon the rake which she held, it was evident +that her hopes were high; but when her last piece was drawn into the +bank, she threw up her little fingers with a playful desperation, and +commenced conversation even gayly with a gentleman who stood leaning +over her chair. The young Frenchman continued almost as invariably to +win. He was excessively handsome; but there was a cold, profligate, +unvarying hardness of expression in his face, that made me dislike +him. The spectators drew gradually about his chair; and one or two of +the women, who seemed to know him well, selected a color for him +occasionally, or borrowed of him and staked for themselves. We left +him winning. The other players were mostly English, and very +uninteresting in their exhibition of disappointment. My companion told +me that there would be more desperate playing toward morning, but I +had become disgusted with the cold selfish faces of the scene, and +felt no interest sufficient to detain me. + + + + +LETTER XIV. + + THE GARDEN OF THE TUILERIES--PRINCE MOSCOWA--SONS OF NAPOLEON-- + COOPER AND MORSE--SIR SIDNEY SMITH--FASHIONABLE WOMEN--CLOSE + OF THE DAY--THE FAMOUS EATING-HOUSES--HOW TO DINE WELL IN PARIS, + ETC. + + +It is March, and the weather has all the characteristics of +New-England May. The last two or three days have been deliciously +spring-like, clear, sunny, and warm. The gardens of the Tuileries are +crowded. The chairs beneath the terraces are filled by the old men +reading the gazettes, mothers and nurses watching their children at +play, and, at every few steps, circles of whole families sitting and +sewing, or conversing, as unconcernedly as at home. It strikes a +stranger oddly. With the _privacy_ of American feelings, we cannot +conceive of these out-of-door French habits. What would a Boston or +New York mother think of taking chairs for her whole family, grown-up +daughters and all, in the Mall or upon the Battery, and spending the +day in the very midst of the gayest promenade of the city? People of +all ranks do it here. You will see the powdered, elegant gentleman of +the _ancien régime_, handing his wife or daughter to a straw-bottomed +chair, with all the air of drawing-room courtesy; and, begging pardon +for the liberty, pull his journal from his pocket, and sit down to +read beside her; or a tottering old man, leaning upon a stout Swiss +servant girl, goes bowing and apologizing through the crowd, in search +of a pleasant neighbor, or some old compatriot, with whom he may sit +and nod away the hours of sunshine. It is a beautiful custom, +positively. The gardens are like a constant _féte_. It is a holiday +revel, without design or disappointment. It is a masque, where every +one plays his character unconsciously, and therefore naturally and +well. We get no idea of it at home. We are too industrious a nation to +have idlers enough. It would even pain most of the people of our +country to see so many thousands of all ages and conditions of life +spending day after day in such absolute uselessness. + +Imagine yourself here, on the fashionable terrace, the promenade, two +days in the week, of all that is distinguished and gay in Paris. It is +a short raised walk, just inside the railings, and the only part of +all these wide and beautiful gardens where a member of the _beau +monde_ is ever to be met. The hour is four, the day Friday, the +weather heavenly. I have just been long enough in Paris to be an +excellent walking dictionary, and I will tell you who people are. In +the first place, all the well-dressed men you see are English. You +will know the French by those flaring coats, laid clear back on their +shoulders, and their execrable hats and thin legs. Their heads are +fresh from the hair-dresser; their hats are _chapeaux de soie_ or +imitation beaver; they are delicately rouged, and wear very white +gloves; and those who are with ladies, lead, as you observe, a small +dog by a string, or carry it in their arms. No French lady walks out +without her lap-dog. These slow-paced men you see in brown mustaches +and frogged coats are refugee Poles. The short, thick, agile-looking +man before us is General ----, celebrated for having been the last to +surrender on the last field of that brief contest. His handsome face +is full of resolution, and unlike the rest of his countrymen, he looks +still unsubdued and in good heart. He walks here every day an hour or +two, swinging his cane round his forefinger, and thinking, apparently +of anything but his defeat. Observe these two young men approaching +us. The short one on the left, with the stiff hair and red mustache, +is _Prince Moscowa_, the son of Marshal Ney. He is an object of more +than usual interest just now, as the youngest of the new batch of +peers. The expression of his countenance is more bold than handsome, +and indeed he is anything but a carpet knight; a fact of which he +seems, like a man of sense, quite aware. He is to be seen at the +parties standing with his arms folded, leaning silently against the +wall for hours together. His companion is, I presume to say, quite the +handsomest man you ever saw. A little over six feet, perfectly +proportioned, dark silken-brown hair, slightly curling about his +forehead, a soft curling mustache, and beard just darkening the finest +cut mouth in the world, and an olive complexion, of the most golden +richness and clearness--Mr. ---- is called the handsomest man in +Europe. What is more remarkable still, he looks like the most modest +man in Europe, too; though, like most modest _looking_ men, his +reputation for constancy in the gallant world is somewhat slender. And +here comes a fine-looking man, though of a different order of +beauty--a natural son of Napoleon. He is about his father's height, +and has most of his features, though his person and air must be quite +different. You see there Napoleon's beautiful mouth and thinly +chiselled nose, but I fancy that soft eye is his mother's. He is said +to be one of the most fascinating men in France. His mother was the +Countess Waleski, a lady with whom the Emperor became acquainted in +Poland. It is singular that Napoleon's talents and love of glory have +not descended upon any of the eight or ten sons whose claims to his +paternity are admitted. And here come two of our countrymen, who are +to be seen constantly together--_Cooper_ and _Morse_. That is Cooper +with the blue surtout buttoned up to his throat, and his hat over his +eyes. What a contrast between the faces of the two men! Morse with his +kind, open, gentle countenance, the very picture of goodness and +sincerity; and Cooper, dark and corsair-looking, with his brows down +over his eyes, and his strongly lined mouth fixed in an expression of +moodiness and reserve. The two faces, however, are not equally just to +their owners--Morse is all that he looks to be, but Cooper's features +do him decided injustice. I take a pride in the reputation which this +distinguished countryman of ours has for humanity and generous +sympathy. The distress of the refugee liberals from all countries +comes home especially to Americans, and the untiring liberality of Mr. +Cooper particularly, is a fact of common admission and praise. It is +pleasant to be able to say such things. Morse is taking a sketch of +the Gallery of the Louvre, and he intends copying some of the best +pictures also, to accompany it as an exhibition, when he returns. Our +artists do our country credit abroad. The feeling of interest in one's +country artists and authors becomes very strong in a foreign land. +Every leaf of laurel awarded to them seems to touch one's own +forehead. And, talking of laurels, here comes _Sir Sidney Smith_--the +short, fat, old gentleman yonder, with the large aquiline nose and +keen eye. He is one of the few men who ever opposed Napoleon +successfully, and that should distinguish him, even if he had not won +by his numerous merits and achievements the gift of almost every order +in Europe. He is, among other things, of a very mechanical turn, and +is quite crazy just now about a six-wheeled coach, which he has lately +invented, and of which nobody sees the exact benefit but himself. An +invitation to his rooms, to hear his description of the model, is +considered the last new bore. + +And now for ladies. Whom do you see that looks distinguished? Scarce +one whom you would take positively for a lady, I venture to presume. +These two, with the velvet pelisses and small satin bonnets, are +rather the most genteel-looking people in the garden. I set them down +for ladies of rank, in the first walk I ever took here; and two who +have just passed us, with the curly lap-dog, I was equally sure were +persons of not very dainty morality. It is precisely _au contraire_. +The velvet pelisses are gamblers from Frascati's, and the two with the +lap-dog are the Countess N. and her unmarried daughter--two of the +most exclusive specimens of Parisian society. It is very odd--but if +you see a remarkably modest-looking woman in Paris, you may be sure, +as the periphrasis goes, that "she is no better than she should be." +Everything gets _travestied_ in this artificial society. The general +ambition seems to be, to appear that which one is not. White-haired +men cultivate their sparse mustaches, and dark-haired men shave. +Deformed men are successful in gallantry, where handsome men despair. +Ugly women dress and dance, while beauties mope and are deserted. +Modesty looks brazen, and vice looks timid; and so all through the +calendar. Life in Paris is as pretty a series of astonishment, as an +_ennuyé_ could desire. + +But there goes the palace-bell--five o'clock! The sun is just +disappearing behind the dome of the "Invalides," and the crowd begins +to thin. Look at the atmosphere of the gardens. How deliciously the +twilight mist softens everything. Statues, people, trees, and the long +perspectives down the alleys, all mellowed into the shadowy +indistinctness of fairy-land. The throng is pressing out at the gates, +and the guard, with his bayonet presented, forbids all re-entrance, +for the gardens are cleared at sundown. The carriages are driving up +and dashing away, and if you stand a moment you will see the most +vulgar-looking people you have met in your promenade, waited for by +_chasseurs_, and departing with indications of rank in their +equipages, which nature has very positively denied to their persons. +And now all the world dines and dines well. The "_chef_" stands with +his gold repeater in his hand, waiting for the moment to decide the +fate of the first dish; the _garçons_ at the restaurants have donned +their white aprons, and laid the silver forks upon the napkins; the +pretty women are seated on their thrones in the saloons, and the +interesting hour is here. Where shall we dine? We will walk toward the +Palais Royal, and talk of it as we go along. + +That man would "deserve well of his country" who should write a "Paris +Guide" for the palate. I would do it myself if I could elude the +immortality it would occasion me. One is compelled to pioneer his own +stomach through the endless _cartes_ of some twelve eating-houses, all +famous, before he half knows whether he is dining well or ill. I had +eaten for a week at Very's, for instance, before I discovered that, +since Pelham's day, that gentleman's reputation has gone down. He is +a subject for history at present. I was misled also by an elderly +gentleman at Havre, who advised me to eat at _Grignon's_, in the +_Passage Vivienne_. Not liking my first _coquilles aux huitres_, I +made some private inquiries, and found that his _chef_ had deserted +him about the time of Napoleon's return from Elba. A stranger gets +misguided in this way. And then, if by accident you hit upon the right +house, you may be eating for a month before you find out the peculiar +triumphs which have stamped its celebrity. No mortal man can excel in +everything, and it is as true of cooking as it is of poetry. The +"_Rochers de Cancale_," is now the first eating-house in Paris, yet +they only excel in fish. The "_Trois Fréres Provençaux_," have a high +reputation, yet their _cotelettes provençales_ are the only dish which +you can not get equally well elsewhere. A good practice is to walk +about in the Palais Royal for an hour before dinner, and select a +master. You will know a _gourmet_ easily--a man slightly past the +prime of life, with a nose just getting its incipient blush, a +remarkably loose, voluminous white cravat, and a corpulence more of +suspicion than fact. Follow him to his restaurant, and give the +_garçon_ a private order to serve you with the same dishes as the +_bald_ gentleman. (I have observed that dainty livers universally lose +their hair early.) I have been in the wake of such a person now for a +week or more, and I never lived, comparatively, before. Here we are, +however, at the "_Trois Fréres_," and there goes my unconscious model +deliberately up stairs. We'll follow him, and double his orders, and +if we dine not well, there is no eating in France. + + + + +LETTER XV. + + HOPITAL DES INVALIDES--MONUMENT OF TURENNE--MARSHAL NEY--A + POLISH LADY IN UNIFORM--FEMALES MASQUERADING IN MEN'S + CLOTHES--DUEL BETWEEN THE SONS OF GEORGE IV. AND OF + BONAPARTE--GAMBLING PROPENSITIES OF THE FRENCH. + + +The weather still holds warm and bright, as it has been all the month, +and the scarcely "premature white pantaloons" appeared yesterday in +the Tuileries. The ladies loosen their "boas;" the silken greyhounds +of Italy follow their mistresses without shivering; the birds are +noisy and gay in the clipped trees--who that had known February in New +England would recognize him by such a description? + +I took an indolent stroll with a friend this morning to the _Hopital +des Invalides_, on the other side of the river. Here, not long since, +were twenty-five thousand old soldiers. There are but five thousand +now remaining, most of them having been dismissed by the Bourbons. It +is of course one of the most interesting spots in France; and of a +pleasant day there is no lounge where a traveller can find so much +matter for thought, with so much pleasure to the eye. We crossed over +by the _Pons Louis Quinze_, and kept along the bank of the river to +the esplanade in front of the hospital. There was never a softer +sunshine, or a more deliciously-tempered air; and we found the old +veterans out of doors, sitting upon the cannon along the rampart, or +halting about, with their wooden legs, under the trees, the pictures +of comfort and contentment. The building itself, as you know, is very +celebrated for its grandeur. The dome of the _Invalides_ rises upon +the eye from all parts of Paris, a perfect model of proportion and +beauty. It was this which Bonaparte ordered to be gilded, to divert +the people from thinking too much upon his defeat. It is a living +monument of the most touching recollections of him now. Positively the +blood mounts, and the tears spring to the eyes of the spectator, as he +stands a moment, and remembers what is around him in that place. To +see his maimed followers, creeping along the corridors, clothed and +fed by the bounty he left, in a place devoted to his soldiers alone, +their old comrades about them, and all glowing with one feeling of +devotion to his memory, to speak to them, to hear their stories +of--"_L'Empereur_" it is better than a thousand histories to make one +_feel_ the glory of "the great captain." The interior of the dome is +vast, and of a splendid style of architecture, and out from one of its +sides extends a superb chapel, hung all round with the tattered flags +taken in _his_ victories alone. Here the veterans of his army worship, +beneath the banners for which they fought. It is hardly appropriate, I +should think, to adorn thus the church of a "religion of peace;" but +while there, at least, we feel strangely certain, somehow, that it is +right and fitting; and when, as we stood deciphering the half-effaced +insignia of the different nations, the organ began to peal, there +certainly was anything but a jar between this grand music, +consecrated as it is by religious associations, and the thrilling and +uncontrolled sense in my bosom of Napoleon's glory. The anthem seemed +to _him_! + +The majestic sounds were still rolling through the dome when we came +to the monument of _Turenne_. Here is another comment on the character +of Bonaparte's mind. There was once a long inscription on this +monument, describing, in the fulsome style of an epitaph, the deeds +and virtues of the distinguished man who is buried beneath. The +emperor removed and replaced it by a small slab, graven with the +single word TURENNE. You acknowledge the sublimity of this as you +stand before it. Everything is in keeping with its grandeur. The lofty +proportions and magnificence of the dome, the tangible trophies of +glory, and the maimed and venerable figures, kneeling about the altar, +of those who helped to win them, are circumstances that make that +eloquent word as articulate as if it were spoken in thunder. You feel +that Napoleon's spirit might walk the place, and read the hearts of +those who should visit it, unoffended. + +We passed on to the library. It is ornamented with the portraits of +all the generals of Napoleon, save one. _Ney's_ is not there. It +should, and will be, at some time or other, doubtless; but I wonder +that, in a day when such universal justice is done to the memory of +this brave man, so obvious and it would seem necessary a reparation +should not be demanded. Great efforts have been making of late to get +his sentence publicly reversed, but, though they deny his widow and +children nothing else, this melancholy and unavailing satisfaction is +refused them. Ney's memory little needs it, it is true. No visiter +looks about the gallery at the _Invalides_ without commenting +feelingly on the omission of his portrait; and probably no one of the +scarred veterans who sit there, reading their own deeds in history, +looks round on the faces of the old leaders of whom it tells, without +remembering and feeling that the brightest name upon the page is +wanting. I would rather, if I were his son, have the regret than the +justice. + +We left the hospital, as all must leave it, full of Napoleon. France +is full of him. The monuments and the hearts of the people, all are +alive with his name and glory. Disapprove and detract from his +reputation as you will (and as powerful minds, with apparent justice, +_have_ done), as long as human nature is what it is, as long as power +and loftiness of heart hold their present empire over the imagination, +Napoleon is immortal. + + * * * * * + +The promenading world is amused just now with the daily appearance in +the Tuileries of a Polish lady, dressed in the Polonaise undress +uniform, decorated with the order of distinction given for bravery at +Warsaw. She is not very beautiful, but she wears the handsome military +cap quite gallantly; and her small feet and full chest are truly +captivating in boots and a frogged coat. It is an exceedingly +spirited, well-charactered face, with a complexion slightly roughened +by her new habits. Her hair is cut short, and brushed up at the sides, +and she certainly handles the little switch she carries with an air +which entirely forbids insult. She is ordinarily seen lounging very +idly along between two polytechnic boys, who seem to have a great +admiration for her. I observe that the Polish generals touch their +hats very respectfully as she passes, but as yet I have been unable to +come at her precise history. + +By the by, masquerading in men's clothes is not at all uncommon in +Paris. I have sometimes seen two or three women at a time dining at +the restaurants in this way. No notice is taken of it, and the lady is +perfectly safe from insult, though every one that passes may penetrate +the disguise. It is common at the theatres, and at the public balls +still more so. I have noticed repeatedly at the weekly _soirées_ of a +lady of high respectability, two sisters in boy's clothes, who play +duets upon the piano for the dance. The lady of the house told me they +preferred it, to avoid attention, and the awkwardness of position +natural to their vocation, in society. The tailors tell me it is quite +a branch of trade--making suits for ladies of a similar taste. There +is one particularly, in the _Rue Richelieu_, who is famed for his nice +fits to the female figure. It is remarkable, however, that instead of +wearing their new honors meekly, there is no such impertinent puppy as +a _femme deguisée_. I saw one in a _café_, not long ago, rap the +_garçon_ very smartly over the fingers with a rattan, for overrunning +her cup; and they are sure to shoulder you off the sidewalk, if you +are at all in the way. I have seen several amusing instances of a +probable quarrel in the street, ending in a gay bow, and a "_pardon, +madame!_" + + * * * * * + +There has been a great deal of excitement here for the past two days +on the result of a gambling quarrel. An English gentleman, a fine, +gay, noble-looking fellow, whom I have often met at parties, and +admired for his strikingly winning and elegant manners, lost fifty +thousand francs on Thursday night at cards. The Count St. Leon was the +winner. It appears that Hesse, the Englishman, had drank freely before +sitting down to play, and the next morning his friend, who had bet +upon the game, persuaded him that there had been some unfairness on +the part of his opponent. He refused consequently to pay the debt, and +charged the Frenchman, and another gentleman who backed him, with +deception. The result was a couple of challenges, which were both +accepted. Hesse fought the Count on Friday, and was dangerously +wounded at the first fire. His friend fought on Saturday (yesterday), +and is reported to be mortally wounded. It is a little remarkable that +both the _losers_ are shot, and still more remarkable, that Hesse +should have been, as he was known to be, a natural son of George the +Fourth; and Count Leon, as was equally well known, a natural son of +Bonaparte! + +Everybody gambles in Paris. I had no idea that so desperate a vice +could be so universal, and so little deprecated as it is. The +gambling-houses are as open and as ordinary a resort as any public +promenade, and one may haunt them with as little danger to his +reputation. To dine from six to eight, gamble from eight to ten, go to +a ball, and return to gamble till morning, is as common a routine for +married men and bachelors both, as a system of dress, and as little +commented on. I sometimes stroll into the card-room at a party, but I +can not get accustomed to the sight of ladies losing or winning money. +Almost all Frenchwomen, who are too old to dance, play at parties; and +their daughters and husbands watch the game as unconcernedly as if +they were turning over prints. I have seen English ladies play, but +with less philosophy. They do not lose their money gayly. It is a +great spoiler of beauty, the vexation of a loss. I think I never could +respect a woman upon whose face I had remarked the shade I often see +at an English card-table. It is certain that vice walks abroad in +Paris, in many a shape that would seem, to an American eye, to show +the fiend too openly. I am not over particular, I think, but I would +as soon expose a child to the plague as give either son or daughter a +free rein for a year in Paris. + + + + +LETTER XVI. + + THE CHOLERA--A MASQUE BALL--THE GAY WORLD--MOBS--VISIT TO THE + HOTEL DIEU. + + +You see by the papers, I presume, the official accounts of the cholera +in Paris. It seems very terrible to you, no doubt, at your distance +from the scene, and truly it is terrible enough, if one could realize +it, anywhere; but many here do not trouble themselves about it, and +you might be in this metropolis a month, and if you observed the +people only, and frequented only the places of amusement, and the +public promenades, you might never suspect its existence. The weather +is June-like, deliciously warm and bright; the trees are just in the +tender green of the new buds, and the public gardens are thronged all +day with thousands of the gay and idle, sitting under the trees in +groups, laughing and amusing themselves, as if there were no plague in +the air, though hundreds die every day. The churches are all hung in +black; there is a constant succession of funerals; and you cross the +biers and hand-barrows of the sick, hurrying to the hospitals at every +turn, in every quarter of the city. It is very hard to realize such +things, and, it would seem, very hard even to treat them seriously. I +was at a masque ball at the _Théatre des Varietés_, a night or two +since, at the celebration of the _Mi-Careme_, or half-Lent. There were +some two thousand people, I should think, in fancy dresses, most of +them grotesque and satirical, and the ball was kept up till seven in +the morning, with all the extravagant gaiety, noise, and fun, with +which the French people manage such matters. There was a +_cholera-waltz_, and a _cholera-galopade_, and one man, immensely +tall, dressed as a personification of the _Cholera_ itself, with +skeleton armor, bloodshot eyes, and other horrible appurtenances of a +walking pestilence. It was the burden of all the jokes, and all the +cries of the hawkers, and all the conversation; and yet, probably, +nineteen out of twenty of those present lived in the quarters most +ravaged by the disease, and many of them had seen it face to face, and +knew perfectly its deadly character! + +As yet, with few exceptions, the higher classes of society have +escaped. It seems to depend very much on the manner in which people +live, and the poor have been struck in every quarter, often at the +very next door to luxury. A friend told me this morning, that the +porter of a large and fashionable hotel, in which he lives, had been +taken to the hospital; and there have been one or two cases in the +airy quarter of St. Germain, in the same street with Mr. Cooper, and +nearly opposite. Several physicians and medical students have died +too, but the majority of these live with the narrowest economy, and in +the parts of the city the most liable to impure effluvia. The balls go +on still in the gay world; and I presume they _would_ go on if there +were only musicians enough left to make an orchestra, or fashionists +to compose a quadrille. I was walking home very late from a party the +night before last, with a captain in the English army. The gray of +the morning was just stealing into the sky; and after a stopping a +moment in the _Place Vendome_, to look at the column, stretching up +apparently unto the very stars, we bade good morning, and parted. He +had hardly left me, he said, when he heard a frightful scream from one +of the houses in the _Rue St. Honoré_, and thinking there might be +some violence going on, he rang at the gate and entered, mounting the +first staircase that presented. A woman had just opened a door, and +fallen on the broad stair at the top, and was writhing in great agony. +The people of the house collected immediately; but the moment my +friend pronounced the word cholera, there was a general dispersion, +and he was left alone with the patient. He took her in his arms, and +carried her to a coach-stand, without assistance, and, driving to the +_Hotel Dieu_, left her with the _Soeurs de Charité_. She has since +died. + +As if one plague were not enough, the city is still alive in the +distant faubourgs with revolts. Last night, the _rappel_ was beat all +over the town, the national guard called to arms, and marched to the +_Porte St. Denis_, and the different quarters where the mobs were +collected. + +Many suppose there is no cholera except such as is produced by poison; +and the _Hotel Dieu_, and the other hospitals, are besieged daily by +the infuriated mob, who swear vengeance against the government for all +the mortality they witness. + + * * * * * + +I have just returned from a visit to the _Hotel Dieu_--the hospital +for the cholera. Impelled by a powerful motive, which it is not now +necessary to explain, I had previously made several attempts to gain +admission in vain; but yesterday I fell in fortunately with an English +physician, who told me I could pass with a doctor's diploma, which he +offered to borrow for me of some medical friend. He called by +appointment at seven this morning, to accompany me on my visit. + +It was like one of our loveliest mornings in June--an inspiriting, +sunny, balmy day, all softness and beauty--and we crossed the +Tuileries by one of its superb avenues, and kept down the bank of the +river to the island. With the errand on which we were bound in our +minds, it was impossible not to be struck very forcibly with our own +exquisite enjoyment of life. I am sure I never felt my veins fuller of +the pleasure of health and motion; and I never saw a day when +everything about me seemed better worth living for. The splendid +palace of the Louvre, with its long _façade_ of nearly half a mile, +lay in the mellowest sunshine on our left; the lively river, covered +with boats, and spanned with its magnificent and crowded bridges on +our right; the view of the island, with its massive old structures +below, and the fine gray towers of the church of _Notre Dame_ rising, +dark and gloomy, in the distance, rendered it difficult to realize +anything but life and pleasure. That under those very towers, which +added so much to the beauty of the scene, there lay a thousand and +more of poor wretches dying of a plague, was a thought my mind would +not retain a moment. + +Half an hour's walk brought us to the _Place Notre Dame_, on one side +of which, next this celebrated church, stands the hospital. My friend +entered, leaving me to wait till he had found an acquaintance of whom +he could borrow a diploma. A hearse was standing at the door of the +church, and I went in for a moment. A few mourners, with the +appearance of extreme poverty, were kneeling round a coffin at one of +the side altars; and a solitary priest, with an attendant boy, was +mumbling the prayers for the dead. As I came out, another hearse drove +up, with a rough coffin, scantily covered with a pall, and followed by +one poor old man. They hurried in, and I strolled around the square. +Fifteen or twenty water-carriers were filling their buckets at the +fountain opposite, singing and laughing; and at the same moment four +different litters crossed toward the hospital, each with its two or +three followers, women and children, friends or relatives of the sick, +accompanying them to the door, where they parted from them, most +probably for ever. The litters were set down a moment before ascending +the steps; the crowd pressed around and lifted the coarse curtains; +farewells were exchanged, and the sick alone passed in. I did not see +any great demonstration of feeling in the particular cases that were +before me; but I can conceive, in the almost deadly certainty of this +disease, that these hasty partings at the door of the hospital might +often be scenes of unsurpassed suffering and distress. + +I waited, perhaps, ten minutes more. In the whole time that I had been +there, twelve litters, bearing the sick, had entered the _Hotel Dieu_. +As I exhibited the borrowed diploma, the thirteenth arrived, and with +it a young man, whose violent and uncontrolled grief worked so far on +the soldier at the door, that he allowed him to pass. I followed the +bearers to the yard, interested exceedingly to observe the first +treatment and manner of reception. They wound slowly up the stone +staircase to the upper story, and entered the female department--a +long low room, containing nearly a hundred beds, placed in alleys +scarce two feet from each other. Nearly all were occupied, and those +which were empty my friend told me were vacated by deaths yesterday. +They set down the litter by the side of a narrow cot, with coarse but +clean sheets, and a _Soeur de Charité_, with a white cap, and a +cross at her girdle, came and took off the canopy. A young woman, of +apparently twenty-five, was beneath, absolutely convulsed with agony. +Her eyes were started from their sockets, her mouth foamed, and her +face was of a frightful, livid purple. I never saw so horrible a +sight. She had been taken in perfect health only three hours before, +but her features looked to me marked with a year of pain. The first +attempt to lift her produced violent vomiting, and I thought she must +die instantly. They covered her up in bed, and leaving the man who +came with her hanging over her with the moan of one deprived of his +senses, they went to receive others, who were entering in the same +manner. I inquired of my companion how soon she would be attended to. +He said, "possibly in an hour, as the physician was just commencing +his rounds." An hour after this I passed the bed of this poor woman, +and she had not yet been visited. Her husband answered my question +with a choking voice and a flood of tears. + +I passed down the ward, and found nineteen or twenty in the last +agonies of death. They lay perfectly still, and seemed benumbed. I +felt the limbs of several, and found them quite cold. The stomach only +had a little warmth. Now and then a half groan escaped those who +seemed the strongest; but with the exception of the universally open +mouth and upturned ghastly eye, there were no signs of much suffering. +I found two who must have been dead half an hour, undiscovered by the +attendants. One of them was an old woman, nearly gray, with a very bad +expression of face, who was perfectly cold--lips, limbs, body, and +all. The other was younger, and looked as if she had died in pain. +Her eyes appeared as if they had been forced half out of the sockets, +and her skin was of the most livid and deathly purple. The woman in +the next bed told me she had died since the _Soeur de Charité_ had +been there. It is horrible to think how these poor creatures may +suffer in the very midst of the provisions that are made professedly +for their relief. I asked why a simple prescription of treatment might +not be drawn up the physicians, and administered by the numerous +medical students who were in Paris, that as few as possible might +suffer from delay. "Because," said my companion, "the chief physicians +must do everything _personally_, to study the complaint." And so, I +verily believe, more human lives are sacrificed in waiting for +experiments, than ever will be saved by the results. My blood boiled +from the beginning to the end of this melancholy visit. + +I wandered about alone among the beds till my heart was sick, and I +could bear it no longer; and then rejoined my friend, who was in the +train of one of the physicians, making the rounds. One would think a +dying person should be treated with kindness. I never saw a rougher or +more heartless manner than that of the celebrated Dr. ----, at the +bedsides of these poor creatures. A harsh question, a rude pulling +open of the mouth, to look at the tongue, a sentence or two of +unsuppressed comments to the students on the progress of the disease, +and the train passed on. If discouragement and despair are not +medicines, I should think the visits of such physicians were of little +avail. The wretched sufferers turned away their heads after he had +gone, in every instance that I saw, with an expression of visibly +increased distress. Several of them refused to answer his questions +altogether. + +On reaching the bottom of the _Salle St. Monique_, one of the male +wards, I heard loud voices and laughter. I had noticed much more +groaning and complaining in passing among the men, and the horrible +discordance struck me as something infernal. It proceeded from one of +the sides to which the patients had been removed who were recovering. +The most successful treatment has been found to be _punch_, very +strong, with but little acid, and being permitted to drink as much as +they would, they had become partially intoxicated. It was a fiendish +sight, positively. They were sitting up, and reaching from one bed to +the other, and with their still pallid faces and blue lips, and the +hospital dress of white, they looked like so many carousing corpses. I +turned away from them in horror. + +I was stopped in the door-way by a litter entering with a sick woman. +They set her down in the main passage between the beds, and left her a +moment to find a place for her. She seemed to have an interval of +pain, and rose up on one hand, and looked about her very earnestly. I +followed the direction of her eyes, and could easily imagine her +sensations. Twenty or thirty death-like faces were turned toward her +from the different beds, and the groans of the dying and the +distressed came from every side. She was without a friend whom she +knew, sick of a mortal disease, and abandoned to the mercy of those +whose kindness is mercenary and habitual, and of course without +sympathy or feeling. Was it not enough alone, if she had been far less +ill, to imbitter the very fountains of life, and kill her with mere +fright and horror? She sank down upon the litter again, and drew her +shawl over her head. I had seen enough of suffering, and I left the +place. + +On reaching the lower staircase, my friend proposed to me to look +into the _dead-room_. We descended to a large dark apartment below the +street-level, lighted by a lamp fixed to the wall. Sixty or seventy +bodies lay on the floor, some of them quite uncovered, and some +wrapped in mats. I could not see distinctly enough by the dim light, +to judge of their discoloration. They appeared mostly old and +emaciated. + +I can not describe the sensation of relief with which I breathed the +free air once more. I had no fear of the cholera, but the suffering +and misery I had seen, oppressed and half smothered me. Every one who +has walked through an hospital, will remember how natural it is to +subdue the breath, and close the nostrils to the smells of medicine +and the close air. The fact, too, that the question of contagion is +still disputed, though I fully believe the cholera _not_ to be +contagious, might have had some effect. My breast heaved, however, as +if a weight had risen from my lungs, and I walked home, blessing God +for health, with undissembled gratitude. + + * * * * * + +P. S.--I began this account of my visit to the _Hotel Dieu_ yesterday. +As I am perfectly well this morning, I think the point of +non-contagion, in my own case at least, is clear. I breathed the same +air with the dying and the diseased for two hours, and felt of nearly +a hundred to be satisfied of the curious phenomena of the vital heat. +Perhaps an experiment of this sort in a man not professionally a +physician, may be considered rash or useless; and I would not +willingly be thought to have done it from any puerile curiosity. I +have been interested in such subjects always; and I considered the +fact that the king's sons had been permitted to visit the hospital, a +sufficient assurance that the physicians were seriously convinced +there could be no possible danger. If I need an apology, it may be +found in this. + + + + +LETTER XVII. + + LEGION OF HONOR--PRESENTATION TO THE KING--THE THRONE OF + FRANCE--THE QUEEN AND THE PRINCESSES--COUNTESS GUICCIOLI--THE + LATE DUEL--THE SEASON OF CARNIVAL--ANOTHER FANCY BALL-- + DIFFERENCE BETWEEN PRIVATE AND PUBLIC MASKERS--STREET + MASKING--BALL AT THE PALACE--THE YOUNG DUKE OF ORLEANS-- + PRINCESS CHRISTINE--LORD HARRY VANE--HEIR OF CARDINAL + RICHELIEU--VILLIERS--BERNARD, FABVIER, COUSIN, AND OTHER + DISTINGUISHED CHARACTERS--THE SUPPER--THE GLASS VERANDAH, ETC. + + +As I was getting out of a _fiacre_ this morning on the Boulevard, I +observed that the driver had the cross of the legion of honor, worn +very modestly under his coat. On taking a second look at his face, I +was struck with its soldier-like, honest expression; and with the fear +that I might imply a doubt by a question, I simply observed, that he +probably received it from Napoleon. He drew himself up a little as he +assented, and with half a smile pulled the coarse cape of his coat +across his bosom. It was done evidently with a mixed feeling of pride +and a dislike of ostentation, which showed the nurture of Napoleon. It +is astonishing how superior every being seems to have become that +served under him. Wherever you find an old soldier of the "emperor," +as they delight to call him, you find a noble, brave, unpretending +man. On mentioning this circumstance to a friend, he informed me, that +it was possibly a man who was well known, from rather a tragical +circumstance. He had driven a gentleman to a party one night, who was +dissatisfied with him, for some reason or other, and abused him very +grossly. The _cocher_ the next morning sent him a challenge; and, as +the cross of honor levels all distinctions, he was compelled to fight +him, and was shot dead at the first fire. + +Honors of this sort must be a very great incentive. They are worn very +proudly in France. You see men of all classes, with the striped riband +in their button-hole, marking them as the heroes of the three days of +July. The Poles and the French and English, who fought well at Warsaw, +wear also a badge; and it certainly produces a feeling of respect as +one passes them in the street. There are several very young men, lads +really, who are wandering about Paris, with the latter distinction on +their breasts, and every indication that it is all they have brought +away from their unhappy country. The Poles are coming in now from +every quarter. I meet occasionally in society the celebrated Polish +countess, who lost her property and was compelled to flee, for her +devotion to the cause. Louis Philippe has formed a regiment of the +refugees, and sent them to Algiers. He allows no liberalists to remain +in Paris, if he can help it. The Spaniards and Italians, particularly, +are ordered off to Tours, and other provincial towns, the instant they +become pensioners upon the government. + +I was presented last night, with Mr. Carr and Mr. Ritchie, two of our +countrymen, to the king. We were very naturally prepared for an +embarrassing ceremony--an expectation which was not lessened, in my +case, by the necessity of a laced coat, breeches, and sword. We drove +into the court of the Tuileries, as the palace clock struck nine, in +the costume of courtiers of the time of Louis the Twelfth, very +anxious about the tenacity of our knee-buckles, and not at all +satisfied as to the justice done to our unaccustomed proportions by +the tailor. To say nothing of my looks, I am sure I should have _felt_ +much more like a gentleman in my _costume bourgeois_. By the time we +had been passed through the hands of all the chamberlains, however, +and walked through all the preparatory halls and drawing-rooms, each +with its complement of gentlemen in waiting, dressed like ourselves in +lace and small-clothes, I became more reconciled to myself, and began +to _feel_ that I might possibly have looked out of place in my +ordinary dress. The atmosphere of a court is very contagious in this +particular. + +After being sufficiently astonished with long rooms, frescoes, and +guardsmen apparently seven or eight feet high, (the tallest men I ever +saw, standing with halberds at the doors), we were introduced into the +_Salle du Tróne_--a large hall lined with crimson velvet throughout, +with the throne in the centre of one of the sides. Some half dozen +gentlemen were standing about the fire, conversing very familiarly, +among whom was the British ambassador, Lord Grenville, and the +Brazilian minister, both of whom I had met before. The king was not +there. The Swedish minister, a noble-looking man, with snow-white +hair, was the only other official person present, each of the +ministers having come to present one or two of his countrymen. The +king entered in a few moments, in the simple uniform of the line, and +joined the group at the fire, with the most familiar and cordial +politeness; each minister presenting his countrymen as occasion +offered, certainly with far less ceremony than one sees at most +dinner-parties in America. After talking a few minutes with Lord +Grenville, inquiring the progress of the cholera, he turned to Mr. +Rives, and we were presented. We stood in a little circle round him, +and he conversed with us about America for ten or fifteen minutes. He +inquired from what States we came, and said he had been as far west as +Nashville, Tennessee, and had often slept in the woods, quite as +soundly as he ever did in more luxurious quarters. He begged pardon of +Mr. Carr, who was from South Carolina, for saying that he had found +the southern taverns not particularly good. He preferred the north. +All this time I was looking out for some accent in the "king's +English." He speaks the language with all the careless correctness and +fluency of a vernacular tongue. We were all surprised at it. It is +_American_ English, however. He has not a particle of the cockney +drawl, half Irish and half Scotch, with which many Englishmen speak. +He must be the most cosmopolite king that ever reigned. He even said +he had been at Tangiers, the place of Mr. Carr's consulate. After some +pleasant compliments to our country, he passed to the Brazilian +minister, who stood on the other side, leaving us delighted with his +manner; and, probably, in spite of our independence, much more +inclined than before to look indulgently upon his politics. The queen +had entered, meantime, with the king's sister, Lady Adelaide, and one +or two of the ladies of honor; and, after saying something courteous +to all, in her own language, and assuring _us_ that his majesty was +very fond of America, the royal group bowed out, and left us once more +to ourselves. + +We remained a few minutes, and I occupied myself with looking at the +gold and crimson throne before me, and recalling to my mind the world +of historical circumstances connected with it. You can easily imagine +it all. The throne of France is, perhaps, the most interesting one in +the world. But, of all its associations, none rushed upon me so +forcibly, or retained my imagination so long, as the accidental drama +of which it was the scene during the three days of July. It was here +that the people brought the polytechnic scholar, mortally wounded in +the attack on the palace, to die. He breathed his last on the throne +of France, surrounded with his comrades and a crowd of patriots. It is +one of the most striking and affecting incidents, I think, in all +history. + +As we passed out I caught a glimpse, through a side door, of the queen +and the princesses sitting round a table covered with books, in a +small drawing-room, while a servant, in the gaudy livery of the court, +was just entering with tea. The careless attitudes of the figures, the +mellow light of the shade-lamp, and the happy voices of children +coming through the door, reminded me more of home than anything I have +seen in France. It is odd, but really the most aching sense of +home-sickness I have felt since I left America, was awakened at that +moment--in the palace of a king, and at the sight of his queen and +daughters! + +We stopped in the antechamber to have our names recorded in the +visiting-book--a ceremony which insures us invitations to all the +balls given at court during the winter. The first has already appeared +in the shape of a printed note, in which we are informed by the +"aide-de-camp of the king and the lady of honor of the queen," that +we are invited to a ball at the palace on Monday night. To my distress +there is a little direction at the bottom, "_Les hommes seront en +uniforme_," which subjects those of us who are not military, once more +to the awkwardness of this ridiculous court dress. I advise all +Americans coming abroad to get a commission in the militia to travel +with. It is of use in more ways than one. + + * * * * * + +I met the _Countess Guiccioli_, walking yesterday in the Tuileries. +She looks much younger than I anticipated, and is a handsome _blonde_, +apparently about thirty. I am told by a gentleman who knows her, that +she has become a great flirt, and is quite spoiled by admiration. The +celebrity of Lord Byron's attachment would, certainly, make her a very +desirable acquaintance, were she much less pretty than she really is; +and I am told her drawing-room is thronged with lovers of all nations, +contending for a preference, which, having been once given, as it has, +should be buried, I think, for ever. So, indeed, should have been the +Empress Maria Louisa's, and that of the widow of Bishop Heber; and yet +the latter has married a Greek count, and the former a German baron! + + * * * * * + +I find I was incorrect in the statement I gave you of the duel between +Mr. Hesse and Count Leon. The particulars have come out more fully, +and from the curious position of the parties (Mr. Hesse, as I stated, +being the natural son of George the Fourth, and Count Leon of +Napoleon) are worth recapitulating. Count Leon had lost several +thousand francs to Mr. Hesse, which he refused to pay, alleging that +there had been unfair dealing in the game. The matter was left to +arbitration, and Mr. Hesse fully cleared of the charge. Leon still +refused to pay, and for fifteen days practised with the pistol from +morning till night. At the end of this time he paid the money, and +challenged Hesse. The latter had lost the use of his right arm in the +battle of Waterloo, (fighting of course against Count Leon's father), +but accepted his challenge, and fired with his left hand. Hesse was +shot through the body, and has since died, and Count Leon was not +hurt. The affair has made a great sensation here, for Hesse had a +young and lovely wife, only seventeen, and was unusually beloved and +admired; while his opponent is a notorious gambler, and every way +detested. People meet at the gaming-table here, however, as they meet +in the street, without question of character. + + * * * * * + +Carnival is over. Yesterday was "_Mardi Gras_"--the last day of the +reign of Folly. Paris has been like a city of grown-up children for a +week. What with masking all night, supping, or breakfasting, (which +you please), at sunrise, and going to bed between morning and noon, I +feel that I have done my _devoir_ upon the experiment of French +manners. + +It would be tedious, not to say improper, to describe all the +absurdities I have seen and mingled in for the last fortnight; but I +must try to give you some idea of the meaning the French attach to the +season of carnival, and the manner in which it is celebrated. + +In society it is the time for universal gaiety and freedom. Parties, +fancy balls, and private masques, are given, and kept up till morning. +The etiquette is something more free, and gallantry is indulged and +followed with the privileges, almost, of a Saturnalia. One of the +gayest things I have seen was a fancy ball, given by a man of some +fashion, in the beginning of the season. Most of the _distingués_ of +Paris were there; and it was, perhaps, as fair a specimen of the +elegant gaiety of the French capital, as occurred during the carnival. +The rooms were full by ten. Everybody was in costume, and the ladies +in dresses of unusual and costly splendor. At a _bal costumé_ there +are no masks, of course, and dancing, waltzing, and galopading +followed each other in the ordinary succession, but with all the +heightened effect and additional spirit of a magnificent spectacle. It +was really beautiful. There were officers from all the English +regiments, in their fine showy uniforms; and French officers who had +brought dresses from their far-off campaigns; Turks, Egyptians, +Mussulmans, and Algerine rovers--every country that had been touched +by French soldiers, represented in its richest costume and by men of +the finest appearance. There was a colonel of the English Madras +cavalry, in the uniform of his corps--one mass of blue and silver, the +most splendidly dressed man I ever saw; and another Englishman, who is +said to be the successor of Lord Byron in the graces of the gay and +lovely Countess Guiccioli, was dressed as a Greek; and between the +exquisite taste and richness of his costume, and his really excessive +personal beauty, he made no ordinary sensation. The loveliest woman +there was a young baroness, whose dancing, figure, and face, so +resembled a celebrated Philadelphia belle, that I was constantly +expecting her musical French voice to break into English. She was +dressed as an eastern dancing-girl, and floated about with the +lightness and grace of a fairy. Her motion intoxicated the eye +completely. I have seen her since at the Tuileries, where, in a waltz +with the handsome Duke of Orleans, she was the single object of +admiration for the whole court. She is a small, lightly-framed +creature, with very little feet, and a face of more brilliancy than +regular beauty, but all airiness and spirit. A very lovely, +indolent-looking English girl, with large sleepy eyes, was dressed as +a Circassian slave, with chains from her ankles to her waist. She was +a beautiful part of the spectacle, but too passive to interest one. +There were sylphs and nuns, broom-girls and Italian peasants, and a +great many in rich Polonaise dresses. It was unlike any other fancy +ball I ever saw, in the variety and novelty of the characters +represented, and the costliness with which they were dressed. You can +have no idea of the splendor of a waltz in such a glittering +assemblage. It was about time for an early breakfast when the ball was +over. + +The private masks are amusing to those who are intimate with the +circle. A stranger, of course, is neither acquainted enough to amuse +himself within proper limits, nor incognito enough to play his +gallantries at hazard. I never have seen more decidedly _triste_ +assemblies than the balls of this kind which I have attended, where +the uniform black masks and dominoes gave the party the aspect of a +funeral, and the restraint made it quite as melancholy. + +The public masks are quite another affair. They are given at the +principal theatres, and commence at midnight. The pit and stage are +thrown into a brilliant hall, with the orchestra in the centre; the +music is divine, and the etiquette perfect liberty. There is, of +course, a great deal of vulgar company, for every one is admitted who +pays the ten francs at the door; but all classes of people mingle in +the crowd; and if one is not amused, it is because he will neither +listen nor talk. I think it requires one or two masks to get one's eye +so much accustomed to the sight, that he is not disgusted with the +exteriors of the women. There was something very diabolical to me at +first in a dead, black representation of the human face, and the long +black domino. Persuading one's self that there is beauty under such an +outside, is like getting up a passion for a very ugly woman, for the +sake of her mind--difficult, rather. I soon became used to it, +however, and amused myself infinitely. One is liable to waste his wit, +to be sure; for in a crowd so rarely _bien composée_, as they phrase +it, the undistinguishing dress gives every one the opportunity of +bewildering you; but the feet and manner of walking, and the tone and +mode of expression, are indices sufficiently certain to decide, and +give interest to a pursuit; and, with tolerable caution, one is paid +for his trouble, in nineteen cases out of twenty. + +At the public masks, the visitors are not all in domino. One half at +least are in caricature dresses, men in petticoats, and women in boots +and spurs. It is not always easy to detect the sex. An English lady, a +carnival-acquaintance of mine, made love successfully, with the aid of +a tall figure and great spirit, to a number of her own sex. She wore a +half uniform, and was certainly a very elegant fellow. France is so +remarkable indeed, for effeminate-looking men and masculine-looking +women, that half the population might change costume to apparent +advantage. The French are fond of caricaturing English dandies, and +they do it with great success. The imitation of Bond-street dialect in +another language is highly amusing. There were two imitation +exquisites at the "_Varietés_" one night, who were dressed to +perfection, and must have studied the character thoroughly. The whole +theatre was in a roar when they entered. Malcontents take the +opportunity to show up the king and ministers, and these are +excellent, too. One gets weary of fun. It is a life which becomes +tedious long before carnival is over. It is a relief to sit down once +more to books and pen. + +The three last days are devoted to street-masking. This is the most +ridiculous of all. Paris pours out its whole population upon the +Boulevards, and guards are stationed to keep the goers and comers in +separate lines, and prevent all collecting of groups on the _pavé_. +People in the most grotesque and absurd dress pass on foot, and in +loaded carriages, and all is nonsense and obscenity. It is difficult +to conceive the motive which can induce grown-up people to go to the +expense and trouble of such an exhibition, merely to amuse the world. +A description of these follies would be waste of paper. + +On the last night but one of the carnival, I went to a ball at the +palace. We presented our invitations at the door, and mounted through +piles of soldiers of the line, crowds of servants in the king's +livery, and groves of exotics at the broad landing places, to the +reception room. We were ushered into the _Salle des Marechals_--a +large hall, the ceiling of which rises into the dome of the Tuileries, +ornamented with full-length portraits of the living marshals of +France. A gallery of a light airy structure runs round upon the +capitals of the pillars, and this, when we entered, and at all the +after hours of the ball, was crowded with loungers from the assembly +beneath--producing a splendid effect, as their glittering uniforms +passed and repassed under the flags and armor with which the ceilings +were thickly hung. The royal train entered presently, and the band +struck up a superb march. Three rows of velvet-covered seats, one +above another, went round the hall, leaving a passage behind, and, in +front of these, the queen and her family made a circuit of courtesy, +followed by the wives of the ambassadors, among whom was our +countrywoman, Mrs. Rives. Her majesty went smiling past, stopping here +and there to speak to a lady whom she recognized, and the king +followed her with his eternal and painfully forced smile, saying +something to every second person he encountered. The princesses have +good faces, and the second one has an expression of great delicacy and +tenderness, but no beauty. As soon as the queen was seated, the band +played a quadrille, and the crowd cleared away from the centre for the +dance. The Duke of Orleans selected his partner, a pretty girl, who, I +believe was English, and forward went the head couples to the +exquisite music of the new opera--Robert le Diable. + +I fell into the little _cortége_ standing about the queen, and watched +the interesting party dancing the head quadrille for an hour. The Duke +of Orleans, who is nearly twenty, and seems a thoughtless, +good-natured, immature young man, moved about very gracefully with his +handsome figure, and seemed amused, and quite unconscious of the +attention he drew. The princesses were _vis-a-vis_, and the second +one, a dark-haired, slender, interesting girl of nineteen, had a +polytechnic scholar for her partner. He was a handsome, +gallant-looking fellow, who must have distinguished himself to have +been invited to court, and I could not but admire the beautiful +mixture of respect and self-confidence with which he demanded the hand +of the princess from the lady of honor, and conversed with her during +the dance. If royalty does not seal up the affections, I could scarce +conceive how a being so decidedly of nature's best nobility, handsome, +graceful, and confident, could come within the sphere of a +sensitive-looking girl, like the princess Christine, and not leave +more than a transient recollection upon her fancy. The music stopped, +and I had been so occupied with my speculations upon the polytechnic +boy, that I had scarcely noticed any other person in the dance. He led +the princess back to her seat by the _dame d'honneur_, bowing low, +colored a little, and mingled with the crowd. A few minutes after, I +saw him in the gallery, quite alone, leaning over the railing, and +looking down upon the scene below, having apparently abandoned the +dance for the evening. From something in his face, and in the manner +of resuming his sword, I was certain he had come to the palace with +that single object, and would dance no more. I kept him in my eye most +of the night, and am very sure he did not. If the little romance I +wove out of it was not a true one, it was not because the material was +improbable. + +As I was looking still at the quadrille dancing before the queen, Dr. +Bowring took my arm and proposed a stroll through the other +apartments. I found that the immense crowd in the _Salle des +Marechals_ was but about one fifth of the assembly. We passed through +hall after hall, with music and dancing in each, all crowded and gay +alike, till we came at last to the _Salle du Tróne_ where the old men +were collected at card-tables and in groups for conversation. My +distinguished companion was of the greatest use to me here, for he +knew everybody, and there was scarce a person in the room who did not +strongly excite my curiosity. One half of them at least were maimed; +some without arms, and some with wooden legs, and faces scarred and +weather-burnt, but all in full uniform, and nearly all with three or +four orders of honor on the breast. You would have held your breath +to have heard the recapitulation of their names. At one table sat +_Marshal Grouchy_ and _General Excelmans_; in a corner stood _Marshal +Soult_, conversing with a knot of peers of France; and in the window +nearest the door, _General Bernard_, our country's friend and citizen, +was earnestly engaged in talking to a group of distinguished-looking +men, two of whom, my companion said, were members of the chamber of +deputies. We stood a moment, and a circle was immediately formed +around Dr. Bowring, who is a great favorite among the literary and +liberal people of France. The celebrated _General Fabvier_ came up +among others, and _Cousin_ the poet. Fabvier, as you know, held a +chief command in Greece, and was elected governor of Paris _pro tem._ +after the "three days." He is a very remarkable-looking man, with a +head almost exactly resembling that of the bust of Socrates. The +engravings give him a more animated and warlike expression than he +wears in private. _Cousin_ is a mild, retired-looking man, and was one +of the very few persons present not in the court uniform. Among so +many hundred coats embroidered with gold, his plain black dress looked +singularly simple and poet-like. + +I left the diplomatist-poet conversing with his friends, and went back +to the dancing rooms. Music and female beauty are more attractive +metal than disabled generals playing at cards; and encountering in my +way an _attaché_ to the American legation, I inquired about one or two +faces that interested me, and collecting information enough to pass +through the courtesies of a dance, I found a partner and gave myself +up, like the rest, to amusement. + +Supper was served at two, and a more splendid affair could not be +conceived. A long and magnificent hall on the other side of the +_Salle du Tróne_ was set with tables, covered with everything that +France could afford, in the royal services of gold and silver, and in +the greatest profusion. There was room enough for all the immense +assemblage, and when the queen was seated with her daughters and +ladies of honor, the company sat down and all was as quiet and well +regulated as a dinner party of four. + +After supper the dancing was resumed, and the queen remained till +three o'clock. At her departure the band played _cotillons_ or waltzes +with figures, in which the Duke of Orleans displayed the grace for +which he is celebrated, and at four, quite exhausted with fatigue and +heat, I went with a friend or two into the long glass verandah, built +by Napoleon as a promenade for the Empress Maria Louisa during her +illness, where tea, coffee, and ices were served to those who wished +them after supper. It was an interesting place enough, and had my eyes +and limbs ached less, I should have liked to walk up and down, and +muse a little upon its recollections, but swallowing my tea as hastily +as possible, I was but too happy to make my escape and get home to +bed. + + + + +LETTER XVIII. + + CHOLERA--UNIVERSAL TERROR--FLIGHT OF THE INHABITANTS--CASES + WITHIN THE WALLS OF THE PALACE--DIFFICULTY OF ESCAPE--DESERTED + STREETS--CASES NOT REPORTED--DRYNESS OF THE ATMOSPHERE-- + PREVENTIVES RECOMMENDED--PUBLIC BATHS, ETC. + + +_Cholera! Cholera!_ It is now the only topic. There is no other +interest--no other dread--no other occupation, for Paris. The +invitations for parties are _at last_ recalled--the theatres are _at +last_ shut or languishing--the fearless are beginning to be +afraid--people walk the streets with camphor bags and vinaigrettes at +their nostrils--there is a universal terror in all classes, and a +general flight of all who can afford to get away. I never saw a people +so engrossed with one single and constant thought. The waiter brought +my breakfast this morning with a pale face, and an apprehensive +question, whether I was quite well. I sent to my boot-maker yesterday, +and he was dead. I called on a friend, a Hanoverian, one of those +broad-chested, florid, immortal-looking men, of whose health for +fifty years, violence apart, one is absolutely certain, and he was at +death's door with the cholera. Poor fellow! He had fought all through +the revolution in Greece; he had slept in rain and cold, under the +open sky, many a night, through a ten years' pursuit of the profession +of a soldier of fortune, living one of the most remarkable lives, +hitherto, of which I ever heard, and to be taken down here in the +midst of ease and pleasure, reduced to a shadow with so vulgar and +unwarlike a disease as this, was quite too much for his philosophy. He +had been ill three days when I found him. He was emaciated to a +skeleton in that short time, weak and helpless, and, though he is not +a man to exaggerate suffering, he said he never had conceived such +intense agony as he had endured. He assured me, that if he recovered, +and should ever be attacked with it again, he would blow out his +brains at the first symptom. Nothing but his iron constitution +protracted the disorder. Most people who are attacked die in from +three to twenty-four hours. + +For myself, I have felt and still feel quite safe. My rooms are in the +airiest quarter of Paris, facing the gardens of the Tuileries, with +windows overlooking the king's; and, as far as _air_ is concerned, if +his majesty considers himself well situated, it would be quite +ridiculous in so insignificant a person as myself to be alarmed. With +absolute health, confident spirits, and tolerably regular habits, I +have usually thought one may defy almost anything but love or a +bullet. To-day, however, there have been, they say, two cases _within +the palace-walls_, members of the royal household, and Casimir Perier, +who probably lives well and has enough to occupy his mind, is very low +with it, and one cannot help feeling that he has no certain exemption, +when a disease has touched both above and below him. I went to-day to +the Messagerie to engage my place for Marseilles, on the way to Italy, +but the seats are all taken, in both mail-post and diligence, for a +fortnight to come, and, as there are no _extras_ in France, one must +wait his turn. Having done my duty to myself by the inquiry, I shall +be content to remain quiet. + + * * * * * + +I have just returned from a social tea-party at a house of one of the +few English families left in Paris. It is but a little after ten, and +the streets, as I came along, were as deserted and still as if it were +a city of the dead. Usually, until four or five in the morning, the +same streets are thronged with carriages hurrying to and fro, and +always till midnight the _trottoirs_ are crowded with promenaders. +To-night I scarce met a foot-passenger, and but one solitary cabriolet +in a walk of a mile. The contrast was really impressive. The moon was +nearly full, and high in the heavens, and the sky absolutely without a +trace of a cloud; nothing interrupted the full broad light of the +moon, and the empty streets were almost as bright as at noon-day; and, +as I crossed the _Place Vendome_, I could hear, for the first time +since I have been in Paris, though I have passed it at every hour of +the night, the echo of my footsteps reverberated from the walls +around. You should have been in these crowded cities of Europe to +realize the impressive solemnity of such solitude. + +It is said that fifty thousand people have left Paris within the past +week. Adding this to the thousand a day who are struck with the +cholera, and the attendance necessary to the sick, and a thinned +population is sufficiently accounted for. There are, however, +hundreds ill of this frightful disease, whose cases are not reported. +It is only those who are taken to the hospitals, the poor and +destitute, who are numbered in the official statements. The physicians +are wearied out with their _private_ practice. The medical lectures +are suspended, and a regular physician is hardly to be had at all. +There is scarce a house in which some one has not been taken. You see +biers and litters issuing from almost every gate, and the better ranks +are no longer spared. A sister of the premier, M. Perier, died +yesterday; and it was reported at the _Bourse_, that several +distinguished persons, who have been ill of it, are also dead. No one +feels safe; and the consternation and dread on every countenance you +meet, is enough to chill one's very blood. I went out to-day for a +little exercise, not feeling very well, and I was glad to get home +again. Every creature looks stricken with a mortal fear. And this +among a French population, the gayest and merriest of people under all +depressions ordinarily, is too strong a contrast not to be felt +painfully. There is something singular in the air, too; a +disagreeable, depressing dryness, which the physicians say must +change, or all Paris will be struck with the plague. It is clear and +cold, but almost suffocating with dryness. + +It is very consoling in the midst of so much that is depressing, that +the preventives recommended against the cholera are so agreeable. +"Live well," say the doctors, "and bathe often. Abstain from excesses, +keep a clear head and good spirits, and amuse yourself as much and as +rationally as possible." It is a very excellent recipe for happiness, +let alone the cholera. There is great room for a nice observance of +this system in Paris, particularly the eating and bathing. The baths +are delightful. You are received in handsome saloons, opening upon a +garden in the centre of the building, ornamented with statues and +fountains, the journals lying upon the sofas, and everything arranged +with quite the luxury of a palace. The bathing-rooms are furnished +with taste; the baths are of marble, and covered inside with +spotlessly white linen cloths; the water is perfumed, and you may lie +and take your coffee, or have your breakfast served upon the mahogany +cover which shuts you in--a union of luxuries which is enough to +enervate a cynic. When you are ready to come out, a pull of the bell +brings a servant, who gives you a _peignoir_--a long linen wrapper, +heated in an oven, in the warm folds of which you are enveloped, and +in three minutes are quite dry. In this you may sit, at your ease, +reading, or musing, or lie upon the sofa without the restraint of a +tight dress, till you are ready to depart; and then four or five +francs, something less than a dollar, pays for all. + + + + +LETTER XIX. + + MORNING VIEW FROM THE RUE RIVOLI--THE BOIS DE + BOULOGNE--GUICCIOLI--SISMONDI THE HISTORIAN, ETC. + + +It is now the middle of April, and, sitting at my window on the _Rue +Rivoli_, I look through one of the long, clipped avenues of the +Tuileries, and see an arch of green leaves, the sun of eight o'clock +in the morning just breaking through the thin foliage and dappling the +straight, even gravel-walk below, with a look of summer that makes my +heart leap. The cholera has put an end to dissipation, and one gets up +early, from necessity. It is delicious to step out before breakfast, +and cross the street into those lovely gardens, for an hour or two of +fresh air and reflection. It is warm enough now to sit on the stone +benches about the fountains, by the time the dew is dry; and I know +nothing so contemplative as the occupation of watching these royal +swans, in the dreamy, almost imperceptible motion with which they +glide around the edges of the basins. The gold fish swim up and circle +about the breast of the imperial birds with a motion almost as idle; +and the old wooden-legged soldier, who has been made warden of the +gardens for his service, sits nodding on one of the chairs, or drawing +fortifications with his stick in the gravel; and so it happens, that, +in the midst of a gay and busy city one may feel always a luxurious +solitude; and, be he ever so poor, loiter all day if he will, among +scenes which only regal munificence could provide for him. With the +_Seine_ bounding them on one side, the splendid uniform _façade_ of +the _Rue Rivoli_ on the other, the palace stretching across the +southern terrace, and the thick woods of the _Champs Elysées_ at the +opposite gate, where could one go in the world to give his taste or +his eye a more costly or delightful satisfaction? + +The _Bois de Boulogne_, about which the Parisians talk so much, is +less to my taste. It is a level wood of small trees, covering a mile +or two square, and cut from corner to corner with straight roads for +driving. The soil is sandy, and the grass grows only in tufts, the +walks are rough, and either muddy or dusty always; and, barring the +equipages and the pleasure of a word in passing an acquaintance, I +find a drive to this famous wood rather a dull business. I want either +one thing or the other--cultivated grounds like the Tuileries, or the +wild wood. + + * * * * * + +I have just left the Countess Guiccioli, with whom I have been +acquainted for some two or three weeks. She is very much frightened at +the cholera, and thinks of going to America. The conversation turned +principally upon Shelley, whom of course she knew intimately; and she +gave me one of his letters to herself as an autograph. She says at +times he was a little crazy--"_fou_," as she expressed it--but that +there never was a nobler or a better man. Lord Byron, she says, loved +him like a brother. She is still in correspondence with Shelley's +wife, of whom also she speaks with the greatest affection. There were +several miniatures of Byron hanging up in the room, and I asked her if +any of them were perfect in the resemblance. "No," she said, "this was +the most like him," taking down an exquisitely-finished miniature by +an Italian artist, "_mais il etaît beaucoup plus beau--beaucoup! +beaucoup!_" She reiterated the word with a very touching tenderness, +and continued to look at the picture for some time, either forgetting +our presence, or affecting it. She speaks English sweetly, with a +soft, slow, honeyed accent, breaking into French when ever she gets +too much interested to choose her words. She went on talking in French +of the painters who had drawn Byron, and said the American, West's was +the best likeness. I did not like to tell her that West's picture of +herself was excessively flattered. I am sure no one would know her +from the engraving of it, at least. Her cheek bones are high, her +forehead is badly shaped, and, altogether, the _frame_ of her features +is decidedly ugly. She dresses in the worst taste, too, and yet, with +all this, and poetry and celebrity aside, the Countess Guiccioli is +both a lovely and a fascinating woman, and one whom a man of sentiment +would admire, even at this age, very sincerely, but not for beauty. +She has white and regular teeth, however, and her hair is incomparably +the most beautiful I ever saw. It is of the richest and glossiest +gold, silken and luxuriant, and changes, as the light falls upon it, +with a mellow softness, than which nothing could be lovelier. It is +this and her indescribably winning manner which are lost in a picture, +and therefore, it is perhaps fair that she should be otherwise +flattered. Her drawing-room is one of the most agreeable in Paris at +present, and is one of the chief _agrémens_ which console me for a +detention in an atmosphere so triste as well as dangerous. + + * * * * * + +My bed-room window opens upon the court in the interior of the hotel +Rivoli, in which I lodge. In looking out occasionally upon my very +near neighbors opposite, I have frequently observed a gray-headed, +scholar-like, fine-looking old man, writing at a window in the story +below. One does not trouble himself much about his fellow-lodgers, and +I had seen this gentleman at his work at all hours, for a month or +more, without curiosity enough to inquire even his name. This morning +the servant came in, with a _Mon Dieu!_ and said _M. Sismondi_ was +frightened by the cholera, and was leaving his lodgings at that +moment. The name startled me, and making some inquiries, I found that +my gray-headed neighbor was no other than the celebrated historian of +Italian literature, and that I had been living under the same roof +with him for weeks, and watching him at his classical labors, without +being at all aware of the honor of his neighborhood. He is a kind, +benevolent-looking man, of about sixty, I should think; and always had +a peculiarly affectionate manner to his wife, who, I am told by the +valet, is an Englishwoman. I regretted exceedingly the opportunity I +had lost of knowing him, for there are few writers of whom one retains +a more friendly and agreeable remembrance. + +In a conversation with Mr. Cooper, the other day he was remarking of +how little consequence any one individual found himself in Paris, +even the most distinguished. We were walking in the Tuileries, and the +remark was elicited by my pointing out to him one or two celebrated +persons, whose names are sufficiently known, but who walk the public +promenades, quite unnoticed and unrecognised. He said he did not think +there were five people in Paris who knew him at sight, though his +works were advertised in all the bookstores, and he had lived in Paris +one or two years, and walked there constantly. This was putting a +strong case, for the French idolize Cooper; and the peculiarly +translateable character of his works makes them read even better in a +good translation than in the original. It is so all over the +continent, I am told. The Germans, Italians, and Spaniards, prefer +Cooper to Scott; and it is easily accounted for when one remembers how +much of the beauty of the Waverly novels depends on their exquisite +style, and how peculiarly Cooper's excellence lies in his accurate, +definite, tangible descriptions. There is not a more admired author in +Europe than Cooper, it is very certain; and I am daily asked whether +he is in America at present--so little do the people of these crowded +cities interest themselves about that which is immediately at their +elbows. + + + + +LETTER XX. + + GENERAL BERTRAND--FRIEND OF LADY MORGAN--PHRENOLOGY--DR. + SPURZHEIM--HIS LODGINGS--PROCESS OF TAKING A CAST OF THE + HEAD--INCARCERATION OF DR. BOWRING AND DE POTTER--DAVID THE + SCULPTOR--VISIT OF DR. SPURZHEIM TO THE UNITED STATES. + + +My room-mate called a day or two since on General Bertrand, and +yesterday he returned the visit, and spent an hour at our lodgings. He +talked of Napoleon with difficulty, and became very much affected when +my friend made some inquiries about the safety of the body at St. +Helena. The inquiry was suggested by some notice we had seen in the +papers of an attempt to rob the tomb of Washington. The General said +that the vault was fifteen feet deep, and covered by a slab that could +not be moved without machinery. He told us that Madame Bertrand had +many mementoes of the Emperor, which she would be happy to show us, +and we promised to visit him. + +At a party, a night or two since, I fell into conversation with an +English lady, who had lived several years in Dublin, and was an +intimate friend of Lady Morgan. She was an uncommonly fine woman, both +in appearance and conversational powers, and told me many anecdotes of +the authoress, defending her from all the charges usually made against +her, except that of vanity, which she allowed. I received, on the +whole, the impression that Lady Morgan's goodness of heart was more +than an offset to her certainly very innocent weaknesses. My companion +was much amused at an American's asking after the "fender in Kildare +street;" though she half withdrew her cordiality when I told her I +knew the countryman of mine who wrote the account of Lady Morgan, of +which she complains so bitterly in the "Book of the Boudoir." It was +this lady with whom the fair authoress "dined in the _Chaussée +d'Antin_," so much to her satisfaction. + +While we were conversing, the lady's husband came up, and finding that +I was an American, made some inquiries about the progress of +_phrenology_ on the other side of the water. Like most enthusiasts in +the science, his own head was a remarkably beautiful one; and I soon +found that he was the bosom friend of Dr. Spurzheim, to whom he +offered to introduce me. We made an engagement for the next day, and +the party separated. + +My new acquaintance called on me the next morning, according to +appointment, and we went together to Dr. Spurzheim's residence. The +passage at the entrance was lined with cases, in which stood plaster +casts of the heads of distinguished men, orators, poets, +musicians--each class on its particular shelf--making altogether a +most ghastly company. The doctor received my companion with great +cordiality, addressing him in French, and changing to very good +German-English when he made any observation to me. He is a tall, +large-boned man, and resembles Harding, the American artist, very +strikingly. His head is finely marked; his features are bold, with +rather a German look; and his voice is particularly winning, and +changes its modulations, in argument, from the deep, earnest tone of a +man, to an almost child-like softness. The conversation soon turned +upon America, and the doctor expressed, in ardent terms, his desire to +visit the United States, and said he had thought of accomplishing it +the coming summer. He spoke of Dr. Channing--said he had read all his +works with avidity and delight, and considered him one of the clearest +and most expansive minds of the age. If Dr. Channing had not strong +developments of the organs of _ideality_ and _benevolence_, he said, +he should doubt his theory more than he had ever found reason to. He +knew Webster and Professor Silliman by reputation, and seemed to be +familiar with our country, as few men in Europe are. One naturally, on +meeting a distinguished phrenologist, wishes to have his own +developments pronounced upon; but I had been warned by my friend that +Dr. Spurzheim refused such examinations as a general principle, not +wishing to deceive people, and unwilling to run the risk of offending +them. After a half hour's conversation, however, he came across the +room, and putting his hands under my thick masses of hair, felt my +head closely all over, and mentioned at once a quality, which, right +or wrong, has given a tendency to all my pursuits in life. As he knew +absolutely nothing of me, and the gentleman who introduced me knew no +more, I was a little startled. The doctor then requested me to submit +to the operation of having a cast taken of my head, an offer which was +too kind and particular to be declined; and, appointing an hour to be +at his rooms the following day, we left him. + +I was there again at twelve, the morning after, and found De Potter +(the Belgian patriot) and Dr. Bowring, with the phrenologist, waiting +to undergo the same operation. The preparations looked very +formidable, A frame, of the length of the human body, lay in the +middle of the room, with a wooden bowl to receive the head, a +mattress, and a long white dress to prevent stain to the clothes. As I +was the youngest, I took my turn first. It was very like a preparation +for being beheaded. My neck was bared, my hair cut, and the long white +dress put on. The back of the head is taken first; and, as I was only +immersed up to the ears in the liquid plaster, this was not very +alarming. The second part, however, demanded more patience. My head +was put once more into the stiffened mould of the first half, and as +soon as I could get my features composed I was ordered to shut my +eyes; my hair was oiled and laid smooth, and the liquid plaster poured +slowly over my mouth, eyes, and forehead, till I was cased completely +in a stiffening mask. The material was then poured on thickly, till +the mask was two or three inches thick, and the voices of those +standing over me were scarcely audible. I breathed pretty freely +through the orifices at my nose; but the dangerous experiment of +Mademoiselle Sontag, who was nearly smothered in the same operation, +came across my mind rather vividly; and it seemed to me that the +doctor handled the plaster quite too ungingerly, when he came to mould +about my nostrils. After a half hour's imprisonment, the plaster +became sufficiently hardened, and the thread which was laid upon my +face was drawn through, dividing the mask into two parts. It was then +gradually removed, pulling very tenaciously upon my eyelashes and +eyebrows, and leaving all the cavities of my face filled with +particles of lime. The process is a tribute to vanity, which one would +not be willing to pay very often. + +I looked on at Dr. Bowring's incarceration with no great feeling of +relief. It is rather worse to see than to experience, I think. The +poet is a nervous man; and as long as the muscles of his face were +visible, his lips, eyelids, and mouth, were quivering so violently +that I scarcely believed it would be possible to get an impression of +them. He has a beautiful face for a scholar--clear, well-cut, finished +features, expressive of great purity of thought; and a forehead of +noble amplitude, white and polished as marble. His hair is black and +curling (indicating in most cases, as Dr. Spurzheim remarked, activity +of mind), and forms a classical relief to his handsome temples. +Altogether, his head would look well in a picture, though his ordinary +and ungraceful dress, and quick, bustling manner, rather destroy the +effect of it in society. + +De Potter is one of the noblest-looking men I ever saw. He is quite +bald, with a broad, ample, majestic head, the very model of dignity +and intellect. Dr. Spurzheim considers his head one of the most +extraordinary he has met. _Firmness_ is the great development of its +organs. His tone and manner are calm and very impressive, and he looks +made for great occasions--a man stamped with the superiority which +others acknowledge when circumstances demand it. He employs himself in +literary pursuits at Paris, and has just published a pamphlet on "the +manner of conducting a revolution, so that no after-revolution shall +be necessary." I have translated the title awkwardly, but that is the +subject. + +I have since heard Dr. Spurzheim lecture twice, and have been with him +to a meeting of the "Anthropological Society" (of which he is the +president and De Potter the secretary), where I witnessed the +dissection of the human brain. It was a most interesting and +satisfactory experiment, as an illustration of phrenology. David the +sculptor is a member of the society, and was present. He looks more +like a soldier than an artist, however--wearing the cross of the +Legion of Honor, with a military frock coat, and an erect, stern, +military carriage. Spurzheim lectures in a free, easy, unconstrained +style, with occasionally a little humor, and draws his arguments from +admitted facts only. Nothing could be more reasonable than his +premises, and nothing more like an axiom than the results, as far as I +have heard him. At any rate, true or false, his theory is one of +extreme interest, and no time can be wasted in examining it; for it is +the study of man, and therefore the most important of studies. + +I have had several long conversations with Dr. Spurzheim about +America, and have at last obtained his positive assurance that he +would visit it. He gave me permission this morning to say (what I am +sure all lovers of knowledge will be pleased to hear) that he should +sail for New York in the course of the ensuing summer, and pass a year +or more in lecturing and travelling in the United States. He is a man +to obtain the immediate confidence and respect of a people like ours, +of the highest moral worth, and the most candid and open mind. + + + + +LETTER XXI. + + DEPARTURE FROM PARIS--DESULTORY REMARKS. + + +I take my departure from Paris to-morrow. I have just been making +preparations to pack, and it has given me a fit of bad spirits. I have +been in France only a few months, but if I had lived my life here, I +could not be more at home. In my almost universal acquaintance, I have +of course made pleasant friends, and, however time and travel should +make us indifferent to such volant attachments, I can not now cast off +these threads of intimacy, without pulling a little upon very sincere +feelings. I have been burning the mass of papers and cards that have +accumulated in my drawers; and the sight of these French invitations, +mementoes, as they are, of delightful and fascinating hours, almost +staggers my resolution of departure. It has been an intoxicating time +to me. Aside from lighter attractions, this metropolis collects within +itself so much of the distinction and genius of the world; and gifted +men in Paris, coming here merely for pleasure, are so peculiarly +accessible, that one looks upon them as friends to whom he has become +attached and accustomed, and leaves the sphere in which he has met +them, as if he had been a part of it, and had a right to be regretted. +I do not think I shall ever spend so pleasant a winter again. And then +my local interest is not a light one. I am a great lover of +out-of-doors, and I have ransacked Paris thoroughly. I know it all +from its broad faubourgs to its obscurest _cul de sac_. I have hunted +with antiquaries for coins and old armor; with lovers of adventure for +the amusing and odd; with the curious for traces of history; with the +romantic for the picturesque. Paris is a world for research. It +contains more odd places, I believe, more odd people, and every way +more material for uncommon amusement, than any other city in the +universe. One might live a life of novelty without crossing the +barrier. All this insensibly attaches one. My eye wanders at this +moment from my paper to these lovely gardens lying beneath my window, +and I could not feel more regret if they were mine. Just over the long +line of low clipped trees, edging the fashionable terrace, I see the +windows of the king within half a stone's throw--the windows at which +Napoleon has stood, and the long line of the monarchs of France, and +it has become to me so much a habit of thought, sitting here in the +twilight and musing on the thousand, thousand things linked with the +spot my eye embraces, that I feel as if I had grown to it--as if Paris +had become to me, what it is proverbially and naturally enough to a +Frenchman--"the world." + +I have other associations which I part from less painfully, because I +hope at some future time to renew them--those with my own countrymen. +There are few pleasanter circles than that of the Americans in Paris. +Lafayette and his numerous family make a part of them. I could not +learn to love this good man more, but seeing him often brings one's +reverence more within the limits of the affections; and I consider +the little of his attention that has fallen to my share the honored +part of my life, and the part best worth recording and remembering. He +called upon me a day or two ago, to leave with me some copies of a +translation of Mr. Cooper's letter on the finances of our government, +to be sent to my friend Dr. Howe; but, to my regret, I did not see +him. He neglects no American, and is ever busied about some project +connected with their welfare. May God continue to bless him! + +And speaking of Mr. Cooper, no one who loves or owns a pride in his +native land, can live abroad without feeling every day what we owe to +the patriotism as well as the genius of this gifted man. If there is +an individual who loves the soil that gave him birth, and so shows it +that we are more respected for it, it is he. Mr. Cooper's position is +a high one; he has great advantages, and he improves them to the +uttermost. His benevolence and activity in all enterprises for the +relief of suffering, give him influence, and he employs it like a true +philanthropist and a real lover of his country. I say this +particularly, though it may look like too personal a remark, because +Americans abroad are _not_ always _national_. I am often mortified by +reproaches from foreigners, quoting admissions made by my countrymen, +which should be the last on their lips. A very distinguished person +told me a day or two since, that "the Americans abroad were the worst +enemies we had in Europe." It is difficult to conceive at home how +such a remark stings. Proportionately, one takes a true patriot to his +heart and I feel it right to say here, that the love of country and +active benevolence of Mr. Cooper distinguish him abroad, even more +than his genius. His house is one of the most hospitable and agreeable +in Paris; and with Morse and the circle of artists and men of +distinction and worth about him, he is an acquaintance sincerely to +regret leaving. + +From Mr. Rives, our Minister, I have received every possible kindness. +He has attached me to his legation, to facilitate my access to other +courts and the society of other cities, and to free me from all delays +and annoyances at frontiers and custom-houses. It is a particular and +valuable kindness, and I feel a pleasure in acknowledging it. Then +there is Dr. Bowring, the lover and defender of the United States, +who, as the editor of the Westminster Review, should be well +remembered in America, and of him I have seen much, and from him I +have received great kindness. Altogether, as I said before, Paris is a +home to me, and I leave it with a heavy heart. + +I have taken a place on the top of the diligence _for a week_. It is a +long while to occupy one seat, but the weather and the season are +delicious; and in the covered and roomy cabriolet, with the +_conducteur_ for a living reference, and all the appliances for +comfort, I expect to live very pleasantly, night and day, till I reach +Marseilles. _Vaucluse_ is on the way, and I shall visit it if I have +time and good weather, perhaps. At Marseilles I propose to take the +steamboat for Leghorn, and thence get directly to Florence, where I +shall remain till I become familiar with the Italian, at least. I lay +down my pen till all this plan of travel is accomplished, and so, for +the present, adieu! + + + + +LETTER XXII. + + +CHALONS, ON THE SAONE.--I have broken my route to stop at this pretty +town, and take the steamboat which goes down the Saone to Lyons +to-morrow morning. I have travelled two days and nights; but an +excellent dinner and a quickened imagination indispose me for sleep, +and, for want of better amusement in a strange city at night, I will +pass away an hour in transcribing the hurried notes I have made at the +stopping places. + +I chose, by advice, the part of the diligence called the +_banquette_--a covered seat over the front of the carriage, commanding +all the view, and free from the dust of the lower apartments. The +_conducteur_ had the opposite corner, and a very ordinary-looking man +sat between us; the seat holding three very comfortably. A lady and +two gentlemen occupied the _coupé_; a dragoon and his family, going to +join his regiment, filled the _rotonde_; and in the interior was a +motley collection, whom I scarce saw after starting; the occupants of +the different parts of a diligence having no more association, even in +a week's travel, than people living in adjoining houses in the city. + +We rolled out of Paris by the _faubourg St. Antoine_, and at the end +of the first post passed the first object that interested me--a small +brick pavilion, built by Henri Quatre for the beautiful Gabrielle +d'Estrees. It stands on a dull, level plain, not far from the banks of +the river; and nothing but the fact that it was once occupied by the +woman who most enslaved the heart of the most chivalrous and fickle of +the French monarchs, would call your attention to it for a moment. + +For the twenty or thirty miles which we travelled by daylight, I saw +nothing particularly curious or beautiful. The guide-book is very +diffuse upon the chateaux and villages on the road, but I saw nothing +except very ordinary country-houses, and the same succession of small +and dirty villages, steeped to the very chimneys in poverty. If ever I +return to America, I shall make a journey to the west, for the pure +refreshment of seeing industry and thrift. I am sick to the heart of +pauperism and misery. Everything that is near the large towns in +France is either splendid or disgusting. There is no medium in +condition--nothing that looks like content--none of that class we +define in our country as the "respectable." + +The moon was a little in the wane, but bright, and the night lovely. +As we got further into the interior, the towns began to look more +picturesque and antique; and, with the softening touch of the +moonlight, and the absence of beggars, the old low-browed buildings +and half-ruined churches assumed the beauty they wear in description. +I slept on the road, but the echo of the wheels in entering a +post-town woke me always; and I rarely have felt the picturesque more +keenly than, at these sudden wakings from dreams, perhaps, of familiar +things, finding myself opposite some shadowy relic of another age; as +if it were by magical transportation, from the fireside to some place +of which I had heard or read the history. + +I awoke as we drove into _Sens_ at broad daylight. We were just +passing a glorious old pile of a cathedral, which I ran back to see +while the diligence stopped to change horses. It is of pointed +architecture, black with age, and crusted with moss. It was to this +town that Thomas a Becket retired in disgrace at his difference with +Henry the Second. There is a chapel in the cathedral, dedicated to his +memory. The French certainly should have the credit of leaving things +alone. This old pile stands as if the town in which it is built had +been desolate for centuries: not a letter of the old sculptures +chiselled out, not a bird unnested, not a filament of the gathering +moss pulled away. All looks as if no human hand had been near +it--almost as if no human eye had looked upon it. In America they +would paint such an old church white or red, shove down the pillars, +and put up pews, sell the pictures for fireboards, and cover the +tesselated pavement with sand, or a home-made carpet. + +As we passed under a very ancient gate, crowning the old Roman +ramparts of the town, a door opened, and a baker, in white cap and +apron, thrust out his head to see us pass. His oven was blazing +bright, and he had just taken out a batch of hot bread, which was +smoking on the table; and what with the chill of the morning air and +having fasted for some fourteen hours, I quite envied him his +vocation. The diligence, however, pushed on most mercilessly till +twelve o'clock, the French never dreaming of eating before their late +_dejeuner_--a mid-day meal always. When we did get it, it was a dinner +in every respect--meats of all kinds, wine, and dessert, certainly as +solid and various as any of the American breakfasts, at which +travellers laugh so universally. + +Auxerre is a pretty town, on a swelling bank of the river Yonne; and I +had admired it as one of the most improved-looking villages of France. +It was not till I had breakfasted there, and travelled a league or two +towards Chalons, that I discovered by the guide book it was the +ancient capital of Auxerrois, a famous town in the time of Julius +Cæsar, and had the honor of being ravaged "at different times by +Attila, the Saracens, the Normans, and the Calvinists, vestiges of +whose devastations may still be seen." If I had not eaten of a +positively modern _paté foie gras_, and an _omelette soufflé_, at a +nice little hotel, with a mistress in a cap, and a coquettish French +apron, I should forgive myself less easily for not having detected +antiquity in the atmosphere. One imagines more readily than he +realizes the charm of mere age without beauty. + +We were now in the province of Burgundy, and, to say nothing of the +historical recollections, the vineyards were all about us that +delighted the palates of the world. One does not dine at the _Trois +Fréres_, in the Palais Royal, without contracting a tenderness for the +very name of Burgundy. I regretted that I was not there in the season +of the grape. The vines were just budding, and the _paysans_, men and +women, were scattered over the vineyards, loosening the earth about +the roots, and driving stakes to support the young shoots. At Saint +Bris I found the country so lovely, that I left the diligence at the +post-house, and walked on to mount a long succession of hills on foot. +The road sides were quite blue with the violets growing thickly among +the grass, and the air was filled with perfume. I soon got out of +sight of the heavy vehicle, and made use of my leisure to enter the +vineyards and talk to the people at their work. I found one old man, +with all his family about him; the little ones with long baskets on +their backs, bringing manure, and one or two grown-up boys and girls +raking up the earth with the unhandy hoe of the country, and setting +it firmly around the roots with their wooden shoes. It was a pretty +group, and I was very much amused with their simplicity. The old man +asked my country, and set down his hoe in astonishment when I told him +I was an American. He wondered I was not more burnt, living in such a +hot country, and asked me what language we spoke. I could scarce get +away from his civilities when I bade him "Good day." No politeness +could have been more elegant than the manner and expression of this +old peasant, and certainly nothing could have appeared sincerer or +kinder. I kept on up the hill till I reached a very high point, +passing on my way a troop of Italians, going to Paris with their +organs and shows--a set of as ragged specimens of the picturesque as I +ever saw in a picture. A lovely scene lay before me when I turned to +look back. The valley, on one side of which lies St. Bris, is as round +as a bowl, with an edge of mountain-tops absolutely even all around +the horizon. It slopes down from every side to the centre, as if it +had been measured and hollowed by art; and there is not a fence to be +seen from one side to the other, and scarcely a tree, but one green +and almost unbroken carpet of verdure, swelling up in broad green +slopes to the top, and realizing, with a slight difference, the +similitude of Madame de Genlis, of the place of satiety, eternal green +meadow and eternal blue sky. St. Bris is a little handful of stone +buildings around an old church; just such a thing as a painter would +throw into a picture--and the different-colored grain, and here and +there a ploughed patch of rich yellow earth, and the road crossing +the hollow from hill to hill like a white band; and then for the life +of the scene, the group of Italians, the cumbrous diligence, and the +peasants in their broad straw hats, scattered over the fields--it was +something quite beyond my usual experience of scenery and accident. I +had rarely before found so much in one view to delight me. + +After looking a while, I mounted again, and stood on the very top of +the hill; and, to my surprise, there, on the other side lay just such +another valley, with just such a village in its bosom, and the single +improvement of a river--the Yonne stealing through it, with its +riband-like stream; but all the rest of the valley almost exactly as I +have described the other. I crossed a vineyard to get a view to the +southeast, and _once more_ there lay a deep hollow valley before me, +formed like the other two, with its little hamlet and its vineyards +and mountains--as if there had been three lakes in the hills, with +their edges touching like three bowls, and the terrace on which I +stood was the platform between them. It is a most singular formation +of country, really, and as beautiful as it is singular. Each of these +valleys might be ten miles across; and if the dukes of Burgundy in +feudal times rode ever to St. Bris, I can conceive that their dukedom +never seemed larger to them than when crossing this triple apex of +highland. + +At Saulieu we left the usual route, and crossed over to Chagny. +Between these two places lay a spot, which, out of my own country, I +should choose before all others for a retreat from the world. As it +was off the route, the guide-book gave me not even the name, and I +have discovered nothing but that the little hamlet is called +_Rochepot_. It is a little nest of wild scenery, a mimic valley shut +in by high overhanging crags, with the ruins of a battlemented and +noble old castle, standing upon a rock in the centre, with the village +of some hundred stone cottages at its very foot. You might stand on +the towers of the ruins, and toss a biscuit into almost every chimney +in the village. The strong round towers are still perfect, and the +turrets and loop-holes and windows are still there; and rank green +vines have overrun the whole mass everywhere; and nothing but the +prodigious solidity with which it was built could have kept it so long +from falling, for it is evidently one of the oldest castles in +Burgundy. I never before saw anything, even in a picture, which +realized perfectly my idea of feudal position. Here lived the lord of +the domain, a hundred feet in the air in his rocky castle, right over +the heads of his retainers, with the power to call in every soul that +served him at a minute's warning, and with a single blast of his +trumpet. I do not believe a stone has been displaced in the village +for a hundred years. The whole thing was redolent of antiquity. We +wound out of the place by a sharp narrow pass, and there, within a +mile of this old and deserted fortress, lay the broad plains of Beaune +and Chagny--one of the most fertile and luxurious parts of France. I +was charmed altogether. How many things I have seen this side the +water that I have made an involuntary vow in my heart to visit again, +and at more leisure, before I die! + +From Chagny it was but one post to Chalons, and here I am in a pretty, +busy town, with broad beautiful quays, where I have promenaded till +dark, observing this out-of-doors people; and now, having written a +long letter for a sleepy man, I will get to bed, and redeem some +portion of my two nights' wakefulness. + + + + +LETTER XXIII. + + PASSAGE DOWN THE SAONE--AN ODD ACQUAINTANCE--LYONS--CHURCH OF + NOTRE DAME DE FOURVIERES--VIEW FROM THE TOWER. + + +I looked out of my window the last thing before going to bed at +Chalons, and the familiar constellation of _Ursa Major_ never shone +brighter, and never made me a more agreeable promise than that of fair +weather the following day for my passage down the Saone. I was called +at four, and it rained in torrents. The steamboat was smaller than the +smallest I have seen in our country, and crowded to suffocation with +children, women, and lap-dogs. I appropriated my own trunk, and +spreading my umbrella, sat down upon it, to endure my disappointment +with what philosophy I might. A dirty-looking fellow, who must have +slept in his clothes for a month, came up, with a loaf of coarse bread +under his arm, and addressed me, to my sufficient astonishment, _in +Latin_! He wanted to sit under my umbrella. I looked at him a second +time, but he had touched my passion. Latin is the only thing I have +been driven to, in this world, that I ever really loved; and the +clear, mellow, unctuous pronunciation of my dirty companion equally +astonished and pleased me. I made room for him on my trunk, and, +though rusted somewhat since I philosophized over Lucretius, we got on +very tolerably. He was a German student, travelling to Italy, and a +fine specimen of the class. A dirtier man I never saw, and hardly a +finer or more intellectual face. He knew everything, and served me as +a talking guide to the history of all the places on the river. + +Instead of eating all at once, as we do on board the steamboats in +America, the French boats have a _restaurant_, from which you order +what you please, and at any hour. The cabin was set round with small +tables, and the passengers made little parties, and breakfasted and +dined at their own time. It is much the better method. I descended to +the cabin very hungry about twelve o'clock, and was looking about for +a place, when a French gentleman politely rose, and observing that I +was alone, (my German friend living on bread and water only,) +requested me to join his party at breakfast. Two young ladies and a +lad of fourteen sat at the table, and addressing them by their +familiar names, my polite friend requested them to give me a place; +and then told me that they were his daughters and son, and that he was +travelling to Italy for the health of the younger girl, a pale, +slender creature, apparently about eighteen. I was very well pleased +with my position, and rarely have passed an hour more agreeably. +French girls of the better classes never talk, but the father was very +communicative, and a Parisian, with the cross of the Legion of Honor, +and we found abundance of matter for conversation. They have stopped +at Lyons, where I write at present, and I shall probably join their +party to Marseilles. + +The clouds broke away after mid-day, and the banks of the river +brightened wonderfully with the change. The Saone is about the size +of the Mohawk, but not half so beautiful; at least for the greater +part of its course. Indeed, you can hardly compare American with +European rivers, for the charm is of another description, quite. With +us it is nature only, here it is almost all art. Our rivers are +lovely, because the outline of the shore is graceful, and particularly +because the vegetation is luxuriant. The hills are green, the foliage +deep and lavish, the rocks grown over with vines or moss, the +mountains in the distance covered with pines and other forest-trees; +everything is wild, and nothing looks bare or sterile. The rivers of +France are crowned on every height with ruins, and in the bosom of +every valley lies a cluster of picturesque stone cottages; but the +fields are naked, and there are no trees; the mountains are barren and +brown, and everything looks as if the dwellings had been deserted by +the people, and nature had at the same time gone to decay. I can +conceive nothing more melancholy than the views upon the Saone, seen, +as I saw them, though vegetation is out everywhere, and the banks +should be beautiful if ever. As we approached Lyons the river narrowed +and grew bolder, and the last ten miles were enchanting. Naturally the +shores at this part of the Saone are exceedingly like the highlands of +the Hudson above West Point. Abrupt hills rise from the river's edge, +and the windings are sharp and constant. But imagine the highlands of +the Hudson crowned with antique chateaux, and covered to the very top +with terraces and summer-houses and hanging-gardens, gravel walks and +beds of flowers, instead of wild pines and precipices, and you may get +a very correct idea of the Saone above Lyons. You emerge from one of +the dark passes of the river by a sudden turn, and there before you +lies this large city, built on both banks, at the foot and on the +sides of mountains. The bridges are fine, and the broad, crowded +quays, all along the edges of the river, have a beautiful effect. We +landed at the stone stairs, and I selected a hotel by chance, where I +have found seven Americans of my acquaintance. We have been spending +the evening at the rooms of a townsman of mine, very pleasantly. + + * * * * * + +There is a great deal of magnificence at Lyons, in the way of quays, +promenades, and buildings; but its excessive filthiness spoils +everything. One could scarce admire a Venus in such an atmosphere; and +you cannot find room to stand in Lyons where you have not some +nauseating odor. I was glad to escape from the lower streets, and +climb up the long staircases to the observatory that overhangs the +town. From the base of this elevation the descent of the river is +almost a precipice. The houses hang on the side of the steep hill, and +their doors enter from the long alleys of stone staircases by which +you ascend. On every step, and at almost every foot of the way, stood +a beggar. They might have touched hands from the quay to the summit. +If they were not such objects of real wretchedness, it would be +laughable to hear the church calendar of saints repeated so volubly. +The lame hobble after you, the blind stumble in your way, the sick lie +and stretch out their hands from the wall, and all begin in the name +of the Virgin Mary, and end with "_Mon bon Monsieur_," and "_un petit +sous_." I confined my charities to a lovely child, that started out +from its mother's lap, and ran down to meet us--a dirty and ragged +little thing, but with the large dark eyes of the province; and a +skin, where one could see it, of the clearest nut-brown teint. Her +mother had five such, and each of them, to any one who loved +children, would have been a treasure of beauty and interest. + +It was holy-week, and the church of _Notre Dame de Fourvières_, which +stands on the summit of the hill, was crowded with people. We went in +for a moment, and sat down on a bench to rest. My companion was a +Swiss captain of artillery, who was a passenger in the boat, a very +splendid fellow, with a mustache that he might have tied behind his +ears. He had addressed me at the hotel, and proposed that we should +visit the curiosities of the town together. He was a model of a manly +figure, athletic, and soldier-like, and standing near him was to get +the focus of all the dark eyes in the congregation. + +The new square tower stands at the side of the church, and rises to +the height of perhaps sixty feet. The view from it is said to be one +of the finest in the world. I have seen more extensive ones, but never +one that comprehended more beauty and interest. Lyons lies at the +foot, with the Saone winding through its bosom in abrupt curves; the +Rhone comes down from the north on the other side of the range of +mountains, and meeting the Saone in a broad stream below the town, +they stretch off to the south, through a diversified landscape; the +Alps rise from the east like the edges of a thunder-cloud, and the +mountains of Savoy fill up the interval to the Rhone. All about the +foot of the monument lie gardens, of exquisite cultivation; and above +and below the city the villas of the rich; giving you altogether as +delicious a nucleus for a broad circle of scenery as art and nature +could create, and one sufficiently in contrast with the barrenness of +the rocky circumference to enhance the charm, and content you with +your position. Half way down the hill lies an old monastery, with a +lovely garden walled in from the world; and several of the +brotherhood were there, idling up and down the shaded alleys, with +their black dresses sweeping the ground, possibly in holy +contemplation. The river was covered with boats, the bells were +ringing to church, the glorious old cathedral, so famous for its +splendor, stood piled up, with its arches and gray towers, in the +square below; the day was soft, sunny, and warm, and existence was a +blessing. I leaned over the balustrade, I know not how long, looking +down upon the scene about me; and I shall ever remember it as one of +those few unalloyed moments, when the press of care was taken off my +mind, and the chain of circumstances was strong enough to set aside +both the past and the future, and leave me to the quiet enjoyment of +the present. I have found such hours "few and far between." + + + + +LETTER XXIV. + + DEPARTURE FROM LYONS--BATTEAUX DE POSTE--RIVER + SCENERY--VILLAGE OF CONDRIEU--VIENNE--VALENCE--POINT ST. + ESPRIT--DAUPHINY AND LANGUEDOC--DEMI-FETE DAY, ETC. + + +I found a day and a half quite enough for Lyons. The views from the +mountain and the river were the only things that pleased me. I made +the usual dry visit to the library and the museum, and admired the +Hotel de Ville, and the new theatre, and the front of the _Maison de +Tolosan_, that so struck the fancy of Joseph II., and having +"despatched the lions," like a true cockney traveller, I was too happy +to escape the offensive smells of the streets, and get to my rooms. +One does not enjoy much comfort within doors either. Lyons is a great +imitation metropolis--a sort of second-hand Paris. I am not very +difficult to please, but I found the living intolerable. It was an +affectation of abstruse cookery throughout. We sat down to what is +called the best table in the place, and it was a series of ludicrous +travesties, from the soup to the salad. One can eat well in the +country, because the dishes are simple, and he gets the natural taste +of things; but to come to a table covered with artificial dishes, +which he has been accustomed to see in their perfection, and to taste +and send away everything in disgust, is a trial of temper which is +reserved for the traveller at Lyons. + +The scenery on the river, from Lyons to Avignon, has great celebrity, +and I had determined to take that course to the south. Just at this +moment, however, the Rhone had been pronounced too low, and the +steamboats were stopped. I probably made the last passage by steam on +the Saone, for we ran aground repeatedly, and were compelled to wait +till horses could be procured to draw the boat into deep water. It was +quite amusing to see with what a regular, business-like air, the +postillions fixed their traces to the prow, and whipped into the +middle of the river. A small boat was my only resource, and I found a +man on the quay who plied the river in what is called _batteaux de +poste_, rough shallops with flat bottoms, which are sold for firewood +on their arrival, the rapidity of the Rhone rendering a return against +the current next to impossible. The sight of the frail contrivance in +which I was to travel nearly two hundred miles, rather startled me, +but the man assured me he had several other passengers, and two ladies +among them. I paid the _arrhes_, or earnest money, and was at the +river-stairs punctually at four the next morning. + +To my very sincere pleasure the two ladies were the daughters of my +polite friend and fellow passenger from Chalons. They were already on +board, and the little shallop sat deep in the water with her freight. +Besides these, there were two young French chasseurs going home on +leave of absence, a pretty Parisian dress-maker flying from the +cholera, a masculine woman, the wife of a dragoon, and my friend the +captain. We pushed out into the current, and drifted slowly down under +the bridges, without oars the padrone quietly smoking his pipe at the +helm. In a few minutes we were below the town, and here commenced +again the cultivated and ornamented banks I had so much admired on my +approach to Lyons from the other side. The thin haze was just stirring +from the river's surface, the sunrise flush was on the sky, the air +was genial and impregnated with the smell of grass and flowers, and +the little changing landscapes, as we followed the stream, broke upon +us like a series of exquisite dioramas. The atmosphere was like +Doughty's pictures, exactly. I wished a thousand times for that +delightful artist, that he might see how richly the old _chateaux_ and +their picturesque appurtenances filled up the scene. It would have +given a new turn to his pencil. + +We soon arrived at the junction of the rivers, and, as we touched the +rapid current of the Rhone, the little shallop yielded to its sway, +and redoubled its velocity. The sun rose clear, the cultivation grew +less and less, the hills began to look distant and barren, and our +little party became sociable in proportion. We closed around the +invalid, who sat wrapped in a cloak in the stern, leaning on her +father's shoulder, and talked of Paris and its pleasures--a theme of +which the French are never weary. Time passed delightfully. Without +being decidedly pretty, our two Parisiennes were quiet-mannered and +engaging; and the younger one particularly, whose pale face and +deeply-sunken eyes gave her a look of melancholy interest, seemed to +have thought much, and to feel, besides, that her uncertain health +gave her a privilege of overstepping the rigid reserve of an unmarried +girl. She talks freely, and with great delicacy of expression and +manner. + +We ran ashore at the little village of Condrieu to breakfast. We were +assailed on stepping out of the boat by the _demoiselles_ of two or +three rival _auberges_--nice-looking, black-eyed girls, in white +aprons, who seized us by the arm, and pulled each to her own door, +with torrents of unintelligible _patois_. We left it to the captain, +who selected the best-looking leader, and we were soon seated around a +table covered with a lavish breakfast; the butter, cheese, and wine +excellent, at least. A merrier party, I am sure, never astonished the +simple people of Condrieu. The pretty dress-maker was full of +good-humor and politeness, and delighted at the envy with which the +rural belles regarded her knowing Parisian cap; the chasseurs sang the +popular songs of the army, and joked with the maids of the _auberge_; +the captain was inexhaustibly agreeable, and the hour given us by the +padrone was soon gone. We embarked with a thousand adieus from the +pleased people, and altogether it was more like a scene from Wilhelm +Meister, than a passage from real life. + +The wind soon rose free and steady from the north-west, and with a +spread sail we ran past _Vienne_, at ten miles in the hour. This was +the metropolis of my old friends, "the Allobrogues," in Cesar's +Commentaries. I could not help wondering at the feelings with which I +was passing over such classic ground. The little dress-maker was +giving us an account of her fright at the cholera, and every one in +the boat was in agonies of laughter. I looked at the guide-book to +find the name of the place, and the first glance at the word carried +me back to my old school-desk at Andover, and conjured up for a moment +the redolent classic interest with which I read the history of the +land I was now hurrying through. That a laugh with a modern _grisette_ +should engross me entirely, at the moment I was traversing such a +spot, is a possibility the man may realize much more readily than the +school-boy. A new roar of merriment from my companions plucked me back +effectually from Andover to the Rhone, and I thought no more of Gaul +or its great historian. + +We floated on during the day, passing _chateaux_ and ruins constantly; +but finding the country barren and rocky to a dismal degree, I can not +well imagine how the Rhone has acquired its reputation for beauty. It +has been sung by the poets more than any other river in France, and +the various epithets that have been applied to it have become so +common, that you can not mention it without their rising to your lips; +but the Saone and the Seine are incomparably more lovely, and I am +told the valleys of the Loire are the most beautiful part of France. +From its junction with the Saone to the Mediterranean, the Rhone is +one stretch of barrenness. + +We passed a picturesque chateau, built very widely on a rock washed by +the river, called "_La Roche de Glun_," and twilight soon after fell, +closing in our view to all but the river edge. The wind died away, but +the stars were bright and the air mild; and, quite fatigued to +silence, our little party leaned on the sides of the boat, and waited +till the current should float us down to our resting-place for the +night. We reached _Valence_ at ten, and with a merry dinner and supper +in one, which kept us up till after midnight, we got to our coarse but +clean beds, and slept soundly. + +The following forenoon we ran under the _Pont St. Esprit_, an +experiment the guide-book calls very dangerous. The Rhone is rapid and +noisy here, and we shot under the arches of the fine old structure +with great velocity; but the "Rapids of the St. Lawrence" are passed +constantly without apprehension by travellers in America, and those of +the Rhone are a mere millrace in comparison. We breakfasted just +below, at a village where we could scarce understand a syllable, the +_patois_ was so decided, and at sunset we were far down between the +provinces of _Dauphiny_ and _Languedoc_, with the villages growing +thicker and greener, and a high mountain within ten or fifteen miles, +covered with snow nearly to the base. We stopped opposite the old +castle of _Rocheméuse_ to pay the _droit_. It was a _demi-fete_ day, +and the inhabitants of a village back from the river had come out to +the green bank in their holyday costume for a revel. The bank swelled +up from the stream to a pretty wood, and the green sward between was +covered with these gay people, arrested in their amusements by our +arrival. We jumped out for a moment, and I walked up the bank and +endeavored to make the acquaintance of a strikingly handsome woman +about thirty, but the _patois_ was quite too much. After several vain +attempts to understand each other, she laughed and turned on her heel, +and I followed the call of the padrone to the batteau. For five or six +miles below, the river passed through a kind of meadow, and an air +more loaded with fragrance I never breathed. The sun was just down, +and with the mildness of the air, and quiet glide of the boat on the +water, it was quite enchanting. Conversation died away, and I went +forward and lay down in the bow alone, with a fit of desperate musing. +It is as singular as it is certain, that the more one enjoys the +loveliness of a foreign land, the more he feels how absolutely his +heart is at home in his own country. + + + + +LETTER XXV. + + INFLUENCE OF A BOATMAN--THE TOWN OF ARLES--ROMAN RUINS--THE + CATHEDRAL--MARSEILLES--THE PASS OF OLLIOULES--THE + VINEYARDS--TOULON--ANTIBES--LAZARETTO--VILLA FRANCA, ETC. + + +I entered Avignon after a delicious hour on the Rhone, quite in the +mood to do poetical homage to its associations. My dreams of Petrarch +and Vaucluse were interrupted by a scene between my friend the +captain, and a stout boatman, who had brought his baggage from the +batteau. The result was an appeal to the mayor, who took the captain +aside after the matter was argued, and told him in his ear that he +must compromise the matter, for he _dared not give a judgment in his +favor_! The man had demanded _twelve_ francs where the regulations +allowed him but _one_, and palpable as the imposition was, the +magistrate refused to interfere. The captain curled his mustache and +walked the room in a terrible passion, and the boatman, an herculean +fellow, eyed him with a look of assurance which quite astonished me. +After the case was settled, I asked an explanation of the mayor. He +told me frankly, that the fellow belonged to a powerful class of men +of the lowest description, who, having declared first for the present +government, were and would be supported by it in almost any question +where favor could be shown--that all the other classes of inhabitants +were malcontents, and that, between positive strength and royal favor, +the boatmen and their party had become too powerful even for the +ordinary enforcement of the law. + +The following day was so sultry and warm, that I gave up all idea of a +visit to Vaucluse. We spent the morning under the trees which stand +before the door of the _café_ in the village square, and at noon we +took the steamboat upon the Rhone for _Arles_. An hour or two brought +us to this ancient town, where we were compelled to wait till the next +day, the larger boat which goes hence by the mouths of the Rhone to +Marseilles, being out of order. + +We left our baggage in the boat, and I walked up with the captain to +see the town. An officer whom we addressed for information on the quay +politely offered to be our guide, and we passed three or four hours +rambling about, with great pleasure. Our first object was the Roman +ruins, for which the town is celebrated. We traversed several streets, +so narrow, that the old time-worn houses on either side seemed to +touch at the top, and in the midst of a desolate and poverty-stricken +neighborhood, we came suddenly upon a noble Roman amphitheatre of +gigantic dimensions, and sufficiently preserved to be a picturesque +ruin. It was built on the terrace of a hill, overlooking the Rhone. +From the towers of the gateway, the view across the river into the +lovely province of Languedoc, is very extensive. The arena is an +excavation of perhaps thirty feet in depth, and the rows of seats, all +built of vast blocks of stone, stretch round it in retreating and +rising platforms to the surface of the hill. The lower story is +surrounded with dens; and the upper terrace is enclosed with a circle +of small apartments, like boxes in a theatre, opening by handsome +arches upon the scene. It is the ruin of a noble structure, and, even +without the help of the imagination, exceedingly impressive. It seems +to be at present turned into a play-ground. The dens and cavities were +full of black-eyed and happy creatures, hiding and hallooing with all +the delightful spirit and gayety of French children. Probably it was +never appropriated to a better use. + +We entered the cathedral in returning. It is an antique, and +considered a very fine one. The twilight was just falling; and the +candles burning upon the altar, had a faint, dull glare, making the +dimness of the air more perceptible. I walked up the long aisle to the +side chapel, without observing that my companions had left me, and, +quite tired with my walk, seated myself against one of the Gothic +pillars, enjoying the quiet of the place, and the momentary relief +from exciting objects. It struck me presently that there was a dead +silence in the church, and, as much to hear the sound of English as +for any better motive, I approached the priest's missal, which lay +open on a stand near me, and commenced translating a familiar psalm +aloud. My voice echoed through the building with a fullness which +startled me, and looking over my shoulder, I saw that a simple, poor +old woman was kneeling in the centre of the church, praying alone. She +had looked up at my interruption of the silence of the place, but her +beads still slipped slowly through her fingers, and, feeling that I +was intruding possibly between a sincere worshipper and her Maker, I +withdrew to the side aisle, and made my way softly out of the +cathedral. + +Arles appears to have modernized less than any town I have seen in +France. The streets and the inhabitants look as if they had not +changed for a century. The dress of the women is very peculiar; the +waist of the gown coming up to a point behind, between the shoulder +blades, and consequently very short in front, and the high cap bound +to the head with broad velvet ribands, suffering nothing but the jet +black curls to escape over the forehead. As a class, they are the +handsomest women I have seen. Nothing could be prettier than the +small-featured lively brunettes we saw sitting on the stone benches at +every door. + +We ran down the next morning, in a few hours to Marseilles. It was a +cloudy, misty day, and I did not enjoy, as I expected, the first view +of the Mediterranean from the mouths of the Rhone. We put quite out +into the swell of the sea, and the passengers were all strewn on the +deck in the various gradations of sickness. My friend the captain, and +myself, had the only constant stomachs on board. I was very happy to +distinguish Marseilles through the mist, and as we approached nearer, +the rocky harbor and the islands of _Chateau d'If_ and _Pomègue_, with +the fortress at the mouth of the harbor, came out gradually from the +mist, and the view opened to a noble amphitheatre of rocky mountains, +in whose bosom lies Marseilles at the edge of the sea. We ran into the +narrow cove which forms the inner harbor, passing an American ship, +the "William Penn," just arrived from Philadelphia, and lying in +quarantine. My blood started at the sight of the starred flag; and as +we passed closer and I read the name upon her stern, a thousand +recollections of that delightful city sprang to my heart, and I leaned +over to her from the boat's side, with a feeling of interest and +pleasure to which the foreign tongue that called me to bid adieu to +newer friends, seemed an unwelcome interruption. + +I parted from my pleasant Parisian friend and his family, however, +with real regret. They were polite and refined, and had given me their +intimacy voluntarily and without reserve. I shook hands with them on +the quay, and wished the pale and quiet invalid better health, with +more of feeling than is common with acquaintances of a day. I believe +them kind and sincere, and I have not found these qualities growing so +thickly in the world that I can thrust aside anything that resembles +them, with a willing mistrust. + +The quay of Marseilles is one of the most varied scenes to be met with +in Europe. Vessels of all nations come trading to its port, and nearly +every costume in the world may be seen in its busy crowds. I was +surprised at the number of Greeks. Their picturesque dresses and dark +fine faces meet you at every step, and it would be difficult, if it +were not for the shrinking eye, to believe them capable of an ignoble +thought. The mould of the race is one for heroes, but if all that is +said of them be true, the blood has become impure. Of the two or three +hundred I must have seen at Marseilles, I scarce remember one whose +countenance would not have been thought remarkable. + + * * * * * + +I have remained six days in Marseilles by the advice of the Sardinian +consul, who assured me that so long a residence in the south of +France, is necessary to escape quarantine for the cholera, at the +ports or on the frontiers of Italy. I have obtained his certificate +to-day, and depart to-morrow for Nice. My forced _sejour_ here has +been far from an amusing or a willing one. The "_mistral_" has blown +chilly and with suffocating dryness, so that I have scarce breathed +freely since I entered the town, and the streets, though handsomely +laid out and built, are intolerable from the dust. The sun scorches +your skin to a blister, and the wind chills your blood to the bone. +There are beautiful public walks, which, at the more moist seasons, +must be delightful, but at present the leaves on the trees are all +white, and you cannot keep your eyes open long enough to see from one +end of the promenade to the other. Within doors, it is true, I have +found everything which could compensate for such evils; and I shall +carry away pleasant recollections of the hospitality of the Messrs. +Fitch, and others of my countrymen, living here--gentlemen whose +courtesies are well-remembered by every American traveller through the +south of France. + + * * * * * + +I sank into the corner of the _coupé_ of the diligence for Toulon, at +nine o'clock in the evening, and awoke with the gray of the dawn at +the entrance of the pass of _Ollioules_, one of the wildest defiles I +ever saw. The gorge is the bed of a winter torrent, and you travel +three miles or more between two mountains seemingly cleft asunder, on +a road cut out a little above the stream, with naked rock to the +height of two or three hundred feet almost perpendicularly above you. +Nothing could be more bare and desolate than the whole pass, and +nothing could be richer or more delightfully cultivated than the low +valleys upon which it opens. It is some four or five miles hence to +Toulon, and we traversed the road by sunrise, the soft, gray light +creeping through the olive and orange trees with which the fields are +laden, and the peasants just coming out to their early labor. You see +no brute animal here except the mule; and every countryman you meet is +accompanied by one of these serviceable little creatures, often quite +hidden from sight by the enormous load he carries, or pacing patiently +along with a master on his back, who is by far the larger of the two. + +The vineyards begin to look delightfully; for the thick black stump +which was visible over the fields I have hitherto passed, is in these +warm valleys covered already with masses of luxuriant vine leaves, and +the hill sides are lovely with the light and tender verdure. I saw +here for the first time, the olive and date trees in perfection. They +grow in vast orchards planted regularly, and the olive resembles +closely the willow, and reaches about the same height and shape. The +leaves are as slender but not quite so long, and the color is more +dusky, like the bloom upon a grape. Indeed, at a short distance, the +whole tree looks like a mass of untouched fruit. + +I was agreeably disappointed in Toulon. It is a rural town with a +harbor--not the dirty seaport one naturally expects to find it. The +streets are the cleanest I have seen in France, some of them lined +with trees, and the fountains all over it freshen the eye +delightfully. We had an hour to spare, and with Mr. Doyle, an Irish +gentleman, who had been my travelling companion, since I parted with +my friend the Swiss, I made the circuit of the quays. They were +covered with French naval officers and soldiers, promenading and +conversing in the lively manner of this gayest of nations. A handsome +child, of perhaps six years, was selling roses at one of the corners, +and for a _sous_, all she demanded, I bought six of the most superb +damask buds just breaking into flower. They were the first I had seen +from the open air since I left America, and I have not often purchased +so much pleasure with a copper coin. + +Toulon was interesting to me as the place where Napoleon's career +began. The fortifications are very imposing. We passed out of the town +over the draw-bridge, and were again in the midst of a lovely +landscape, with an air of bland and exhilarating softness, and +everything that could delight the eye. The road runs along the shore +of the Mediterranean, and the fields are green to the water edge. + +We arrived at Antibes to-day at noon, within fifteen miles of the +frontier of Sardinia. We have run through most of the south of France, +and have found it all like a garden. The thing most like it in our +country is the neighborhood of Boston, particularly the undulated +country about Brookline and Dorchester. Remove all the stone fences +from that sweet country, put here and there an old chateau on an +eminence, and change the pretty white mock cottages of gentlemen, for +the real stone cottages of peasantry, and you have a fair picture of +the scenery of this celebrated shore. The Mediterranean should be +added as a distance, with its exquisite blue, equalled by nothing but +an American sky in a July noon--its crowds of sail, of every shape and +nation, and the Alps in the horizon crested with snow, like clouds +half touched by the sun. It is really a delicious climate. Out of the +scorching sun the air is bracing and cool; and though my ears have +been blistered in walking up the hills in a travelling cap, I have +scarcely experienced an uncomfortable sensation of heat, and this in +my winter dress, with flannels and a surtout, as I have worn them for +the six months past in Paris. The air could not be tempered more +accurately for enjoyment. I regret to go in doors. I regret to sleep +it away. + + * * * * * + +_Antibes_ was fortified by the celebrated _Vauban_, and it looks +impregnable enough to my unscientific eye. If the portcullises were +drawn up, I would not undertake to get into the town with the full +consent of the inhabitants. We walked around the ramparts which are +washed by the Mediterranean, and got an appetite in the sea-breeze, +which we would willingly have dispensed with. I dislike to abuse +people, but I must say that the _cuisine_ of Madame Agarra, at the +"Gold Eagle," is rather the worst I have fallen upon in my travels. +Her price, as is usual in France, was proportionably exorbitant. My +Irish friend, who is one of the most religious gentlemen of his +country I ever met, came as near getting into a passion with his +supper and bill, as was possible for a temper so well disciplined. For +myself, having acquired only polite French, I can but "look daggers" +when I am abused. We depart presently for _Nice_, in a ricketty +barouche, with post-horses, the _courier_, or post-coach, going no +farther. It is a roomy old affair, that has had pretensions to style +some time since Henri Quatre, but the arms on its panels are illegible +now, and the ambitious driving-box is occupied by the humble materials +to remedy a probable break-down by the way. The postillion is cracking +his whip impatiently, my friend has called me twice, and I must put up +my pencil. + +_Antibes_ again! We have returned here after an unsuccessful attempt +to enter the Sardinian dominions. We were on the road by ten in the +morning, and drove slowly along the shores of the Mediterranean, +enjoying to the utmost the heavenly weather and the glorious scenery +about us. The driver pointed out to us a few miles from Antibes, the +very spot on which Napoleon landed on his return from Elba, and the +tree, a fine old olive, under which he slept three hours, before +commencing his march. We arrived at the _Pont de Var_ about one, and +crossed the river, but here we were met by a guard of Sardinian +soldiers, and our passports were demanded. The commissary came from +the guard-house with a long pair of tongs, and receiving them open, +read them at the longest possible distance. They were then handed back +to us in the same manner, and we were told we could not pass. We then +handed him our certificates of quarantine at Marseilles; but were told +it availed nothing, a new order having arrived from Turin that very +morning, to admit no travellers from infected or suspected places +across the frontier. We asked if there were no means by which we could +pass; but the commissary only shook his head, ordered us not to +dismount on the Sardinian side of the river, and shut his door. We +turned about and recrossed the bridge in some perplexity. The French +commissary at St. Laurent, the opposite village, received us with a +suppressed smile, and informed us that several parties of travellers, +among others an English gentleman and his wife and sister, were at the +_auberge_, waiting for an answer from the Prefect of Nice, having been +turned back in the same manner since morning. We drove up, and they +advised us to send our passports by the postillion, with a letter to +the consuls of our respective nations, requesting information, which +we did immediately. + +Nice is three miles from St. Laurent, and as we could not expect an +answer for several hours, we amused ourselves with a stroll along the +banks of the Var to the Mediterranean. The Sardinian side is bold, +and wooded to the tops of the hills very richly. We kept along a mile +or more through the vineyards, and returned in time to receive a +letter from the American consul, confirming the orders of the +commissary, but advising us to return to Antibes, and sail thence for +Villa Franca, a lazaretto in the neighborhood of Nice, whence we could +enter Italy, after _seven days quarantine_! By this time several +travelling-carriages had collected, and all, profiting by our +experience, turned back together. We are now at the "Gold Eagle," +deliberating. Some have determined to give up their object altogether, +but the rest of us sail to-morrow morning in a fishing-boat for the +lazaretto. + + * * * * * + +LAZARETTO, VILLA FRANCA.--There were but eight of the twenty or thirty +travellers stopped at the bridge who thought it worth while to +persevere. We are all here in this pest-house, and a motley mixture of +nations it is. There are two young Sicilians returning from college to +Messina; a Belgian lad of seventeen, just started on his travels; two +aristocratic young Frenchmen, very elegant and very ignorant of the +world, running down to Italy in their own carriage, to avoid the +cholera; a middle-aged surgeon in the British navy, very cool and very +gentlemanly; a vulgar Marseilles trader, and myself. + +We were from seven in the morning till two, getting away from Antibes. +Our difficulties during the whole day are such a practical comparison +of the freedom of European states and ours, that I may as well detail +them. + +First of all, our passports were to be vised by the police. We were +compelled to stand an hour with our hats off, in a close, dirty +office, waiting our turn for this favor. The next thing was to get the +permission of the prefect of the _marine_ to embark; and this occupied +another hour. Thence we were taken to the health-office, where a _bill +of health_ was made out for eight persons _going to a lazaretto_! The +padrone's freight duties were then to be settled, and we went back and +forth between the Sardinian consul and the French, disputing these for +another hour or more. Our baggage was piled upon the _charrette_, at +last, to be taken to the boat. The quay is outside the gate, and here +are stationed the _douanes_, or custom-officers, who ordered our +trunks to be taken from the cart, and searched them from top to +bottom. After a half hour spent in repacking our effects in the open +street, amid a crowd of idle spectators, we were suffered to proceed. +Almost all these various gentlemen expect a fee, and some demand a +heavy one; and all this trouble and expense of time and money to make +a voyage of _fifteen miles in a fishing-boat_! + +We hoisted the fisherman's latteen sail, and put out of the little +harbor in very bad temper. The wind was fair, and we ran along the +shore for a couple of hours, till we came to Nice, where we were to +stop for permission to go to the lazaretto. We were hailed, off the +mole, with a trumpet, and suffered to pass. Doubling a little point, +half a mile farther on, we ran into the bay of Villa Franca, a handful +of houses at the base of an amphitheatre of mountains. A little round +tower stood in the centre of the harbor, built upon a rock, and +connected with the town by a draw-bridge, and we were landed at a +staircase outside, by which we mounted to show our papers to the +health-officer. The interior was a little circular yard, separated +from an office on the town side by an iron grating, and looking out on +the sea by two embrasures for cannon. Two strips of water and the sky +above was our whole prospect for the hour that we waited here. The +cause of the delay was presently explained by clouds of smoke issuing +from the interior. The tower filled, and a more nauseating odor I +never inhaled. We were near suffocating with the intolerable smell, +and the quantity of smoke deemed necessary to secure his majesty's +officers against contagion. + +A cautious-looking old gentleman, with gray hair, emerged at last from +the smoke, with a long cane-pole in his hand, and, coughing at every +syllable, requested us to insert our passports in the split at the +extremity, which he thrust through the gate. This being done, we asked +him for bread. We had breakfasted at seven, and it was now +sundown--near twelve hours fast. Several of my companions had been +seasick with the swell of the Mediterranean, in coming from Antibes, +and all were faint with hunger and exhaustion. For myself, the +villainous smell of our purification had made me sick, and I had no +appetite; but the rest ate very voraciously of a loaf of coarse bread, +which was extended to us with a tongs and two pieces of paper. + +After reading our passports, the magistrate informed us that he had no +orders to admit us to the lazaretto, and we must lie in our boat till +he could send a messenger to Nice with our passports and obtain +permission. We opened upon him, however, with such a flood of +remonstrance, and with such an emphasis from hunger and fatigue, that +he consented to admit us temporarily on his own responsibility, and +gave the boatmen orders to row back to a long, low stone building, +which we had observed at the foot of a precipice at the entrance to +the harbor. + +He was there before us, and as we mounted the stone ladder he pointed +through the bars of a large inner gate to a single chamber, separated +from the rest of the building, and promising to send us something to +eat in the course of the evening, left us to take possession. Our +position was desolate enough. The building was new, and the plaster +still soft and wet. There was not an article of furniture in the +chamber, and but a single window; the floor was of brick, and the air +as damp within as a cellar. The alternative was to remain out of +doors, in the small yard, walled up thirty feet on three sides, and +washed by the sea on the other; and here, on a long block of granite, +the softest thing I could find, I determined to make an _al fresco_ +night of it. + +Bread, cheese, wine, and cold meat, seethed, Italian fashion, in +nauseous oil, arrived about nine o'clock; and, by the light of a +candle standing in a boot, we sat around on the brick floor, and +supped very merrily. Hunger had brought even our two French exquisites +to their fare, and they ate well. The navy surgeon had seen service, +and had no qualms; the Sicilians were from a German university, and +were not delicate; the Marseilles trader knew no better; and we should +have been less contented with a better meal. It was superfluous to +abuse it. + +A steep precipice hangs immediately over the lazaretto, and the horn +of the half moon was just dipping below it, as I stretched myself to +sleep. With a folded coat under me, and a carpet-bag for a pillow, I +soon fell asleep, and slept soundly till sunrise. My companions had +chosen shelter, but all were happy to be early risers. We mounted our +wall upon the sea, and promenaded till the sun was broadly up, and +the breeze from the Mediterranean sharpened our appetites, and then +finishing the relics of our supper, we waited with what patience we +might the appearance of our breakfast. + + * * * * * + +The magistrate arrived at twelve, yesterday, with a commissary from +Villa Franca, who is to be our victualler during the quarantine. He +has enlarged our limits, by a stone staircase and an immense chamber, +on condition that we pay for an extra guard, in the shape of a +Sardinian soldier, who is to sleep in our room, and eat at our table. +By the way, we _have_ a table, and four rough benches, and these, with +three single mattresses, are all the furniture we can procure. We are +compelled to sleep _across_ the latter of course, to give every one +his share. + +We have come down very contentedly to our situation, and I have been +exceedingly amused at the facility with which eight such different +tempers can amalgamate, upon compulsion. Our small quarters bring us +in contact continually, and we harmonize like schoolboys. At this +moment the Marseilles trader and the two Frenchmen are throwing stones +at something that is floating out with the tide; the surgeon has +dropped his Italian grammar to decide upon which is the best shot; the +Belgian is fishing off the wall, with a pin hook and a bit of cheese; +and the two Sicilians are talking _lingua franca_, at the top of their +voices, to Carolina, the guardian's daughter, who stands coquetting on +the pier just outside the limits. I have got out my books and +portfolio, and taken possession of the broad stair, depending on the +courtesy of my companions to jump over me and my papers when they go +up and down. I sit here most of the day laughing at the fun below, and +writing or reading alternately. The climate is too delicious for +discontent. Every breath is a pleasure. The hills of the amphitheatre +opposite to us are covered with olive, lemon, and orange trees; and in +the evening, from the time the land breeze commences to blow off shore +until ten or eleven, the air is impregnated with the delicate perfume +of the orange-blossom, than which nothing could be more grateful. Nice +is called the hospital of Europe; and truly, under this divine sky, +and with the inspiriting vitality and softness of the air, and all +that nature can lavish of luxuriance and variety upon the hills, it is +the place, if there is one in the world, where the drooping spirit of +the invalid must revive and renew. At this moment the sun has crept +from the peak of the highest mountain across the bay, and we shall +scent presently the spicy wind from the shore. I close my book to go +upon the wall, which I see the surgeon has mounted already with the +same object, to catch the first breath that blows seaward. + +It is Sunday, and an Italian summer morning. I do not think my eyes +ever woke upon so lovely a day. The long, lazy swell comes in from the +Mediterranean as smooth as glass; the sails of a beautiful yacht, +belonging to an English nobleman at Nice, and lying becalmed just now +in the bay, are hanging motionless about the masts; the sky is without +a speck, the air just seems to me to steep every nerve and fibre of +the frame with repose and pleasure. Now and then in America I have +felt a June morning that approached it, but never the degree, the +fulness, the sunny softness of this exquisite clime. It tranquilizes +the mind as well as the body. You cannot resist feeling contented and +genial. We are all out of doors, and my companions have brought down +their mattresses, and are lying along the shade of the east wall, +talking quietly and pleasantly; the usual sounds of the workmen on the +quays of the town are still, our harbor-guard lies asleep in his boat, +the yellow flag of the lazaretto clings to the staff, everything about +us breathes tranquillity. Prisoner as I am, I would not stir willingly +to-day. + + * * * * * + +We have had two new arrivals this morning--a boat from Antibes, with a +company of players bound for the theatre at Milan; and two French +deserters from the regiment at Toulon, who escaped in a leaky boat, +and have made this voyage along the coast to get into Italy. They knew +nothing of the quarantine, and were very much surprised at their +arrest. They will, probably, be delivered up to the French consul. The +new comers are all put together in the large chamber next us, and we +have been talking with them through the grate. His majesty of Sardinia +is not spared in their voluble denunciations. + +Our imprisonment is getting to be a little tedious. We lengthen our +breakfasts and dinners, go to sleep early and get up late, but a +lazaretto is a dull place after all. We have no books except +dictionaries and grammars, and I am on my last sheet of paper. What I +shall do, the two remaining days, I cannot divine. Our meals were +amusing for a while. We have but three knives and four glasses; and +the Belgian, having cut his plate in two on the first day, has eaten +since from the wash-bowl. The salt is in a brown paper, the vinegar in +a shell; and the meats, to be kept warm during their passage by water, +are brought in the black utensils in which they are cooked. Our +tablecloth appeared to-day of all the colors of the rainbow. We sat +down to breakfast with a general cry of horror. Still, with youth and +good spirits, we manage to be more contented than one would expect; +and our lively discussions of the spot on the quay where the table +shall be laid, and the noise of our dinners _en plein air_, would +convince the spectator that we were a very merry and sufficiently +happy company. + +I like my companions, on the whole, very much. The surgeon has been in +Canada and the west of New York, and we have travelled the same +routes, and made in several instances, the same acquaintances. He has +been in almost every part of the world also, and his descriptions are +very graphic and sensible. The Belgian talks of his new king Leopold, +the Sicilians of the German universities; and when I have exhausted +all they can tell me, I turn to our Parisians, whom I find I have met +all last winter without noticing them, at the parties; and we discuss +the belles, and the different members of the _beau monde_, with all +the touching air and tone of exiles from paradise. In a case of +desperate ennui, wearied with studying and talking, the sea wall is a +delightful lounge, and the blue Mediterranean plays the witch to the +indolent fancy, and beguiles it well. I have never seen such a +beautiful sheet of water. The color is peculiarly rich and clear, like +an intensely blue sky, heaving into waves. I do not find the +often-repeated description of its loveliness exaggerated. + +Our seven days expire to-morrow, and we are preparing to eat our last +dinner in the lazaretto with great glee. A temporary table is already +laid upon the quay, and two strips of board raised upon some ingenious +contrivance, I can not well say what, and covered with all the private +and public napkins that retained any portion of their maiden +whiteness. Our knives are reduced to two, one having disappeared +unaccountably; but the deficiency is partially remedied. The surgeon +has "whittled" a pine knot, which floated in upon the tide, into a +distant imitation; and one of the company has produced a delicate +dagger, that looks very like a keepsake from a lady; and, by the +reluctant manner in which it was put to service, the profanation cost +his sentiment an effort. Its white handle and silver sheath lie across +a plate, abridged of its proportions by a very formidable segment. +There was no disguising the poverty of the brown paper that contained +the salt. It was too necessary to be made an "aside," and lies plump +in the middle of the table. I fear there has been more fun in the +preparation than we shall feel in eating the dinner when it arrives. +The Belgian stands on the wall, watching all the boats from town; but +they pass off down the harbor, one after another, and we are destined +to keep our appetites to a late hour. Their detestable cookery needs +the "sauce of hunger." + +The Belgian's hat waves in the air, and the commissary's boat must be +in sight. As we get off at six o'clock to-morrow morning, my portfolio +shuts till I find another resting place, probably Genoa. + + + + +LETTER XXVI. + + SHORE OF THE MEDITERRANEAN--NICE--FUNERAL SERVICES OF MARIA + THERESA, ARCHDUCHESS OF AUSTRIA--PRINCIPALITY OF MONACO--ROAD + TO GENOA--SARDINIA--PRISON OF THE POPE--HOUSE OF + COLUMBUS--GENOA. + + +The health-magistrate arrived at an early hour, on the morning of our +departure from the lazaretto of Villa Franca. He was accompanied by a +physician, who was to direct the fumigation. The iron pot was placed +in the centre of the chamber, our clothes were spread out upon the +beds, and the windows shut. The _chlorin_ soon filled the room, and +its detestable odor became so intolerable that we forced the door, and +rushed past the sentinel into the open air, nearly suffocated. This +farce over, we were permitted to embark, and, rounding the point, put +into Nice. + +The Mediterranean curves gracefully into the crescented shore of this +lovely bay, and the high hills lean away from the skirts of the town +in one unbroken slope of cultivation to the top. Large, handsome +buildings face you on the long quay, as you approach; and white +chimneys, and half-concealed parts of country-houses and suburban +villas, appear through the olive and orange trees with which the +whole amphitheatre is covered. We landed amid a crowd of half-naked +idlers, and were soon at a hotel, where we ordered the best breakfast +the town would afford, and sat down once more to clean cloths and +unrepulsive food. + +As we rose from the table, a note, edged with black, and sealed and +enveloped with considerable circumstance, was put into my hand by the +master of the hotel. It was an invitation from the governor to attend +a funeral service, to be performed in the cathedral that day, at ten +o'clock, for the "late Queen-mother, Maria Theresa, Archduchess of +Austria." Wondering not a little how I came by the honor, I joined the +crowd flocking from all parts of the town to see the ceremony. The +central door was guarded by a file of Sardinian soldiers; and, +presenting my invitation to the officer on duty, I was handed over to +the master of ceremonies, and shown to an excellent seat in the centre +of the church. The windows were darkened, and the candles of the altar +not yet lit; and, by the indistinct light that came in through the +door, I could distinguish nothing clearly. A little silver bell +tinkled presently from one of the side-chapels, and boys dressed in +white appeared, with long tapers, and the house was soon splendidly +illuminated. I found myself in the midst of a crowd of four or five +hundred ladies, all in deep mourning. The church was hung from the +floor to the roof in black cloth, ornamented gorgeously with silver; +and, under the large dome, which occupied half the ceiling, was raised +a pyramidal altar, with tripods supporting chalices for incense at the +four corners, a walk round the lower base for the priests, and +something in the centre, surrounded with a blaze of light, +representing figures weeping over a tomb. The organ commenced pealing, +there was a single beat on the drum, and a procession entered. It was +composed of the nobility of Nice, and the military and civil officers, +all in uniform and court dresses. The gold and silver flashing in the +light, the tall plumes of the Sardinian soldiery below, the solemn +music, and the moving of the censers from the four corners of the +altar, produced a very impressive effect. As soon as the procession +had quite entered, the fire was kindled in the four chalices; and, as +the white smoke rolled up to the roof, an anthem commenced with the +full power of the organ. The singing was admirable, and there was one +female voice in the choir, of singular power and sweetness. + +The remainder of the service was the usual ceremonies of the Catholic +church, and I amused myself with observing the people about me. It was +little like a scene of mourning. The officers gradually edged in +between the seats, and every woman with the least pretension to +prettiness was engaged in anything but her prayers for the soul of the +late Archduchess. Some of these, the very young girls, were pretty; +and the women, of thirty-five or forty apparently, were fine-looking; +but, except a decided air of style and rank, the fairly grown-up +belles seemed to me of very small attraction. + +I saw little else in Nice to interest me. I wandered about with my +friend the surgeon, laughing at the ridiculous figures and villainous +uniforms of the Sardinian infantry, and repelling the beggars, who +radiated to us from every corner; and, having traversed the terrace of +a mile on the tops of the houses next the sea, unravelled all the +lanes of the old town, and admired all the splendor of the new, we +dined and got early to bed, anxious to sleep once more between sheets, +and prepare for an early start on the following morning. + + * * * * * + +We were on the road to Genoa with the first gray of the dawn: the +surgeon, a French officer, and myself, three passengers of a courier +barouche. We were climbing up mountains and sliding down with locked +wheels for several hours, by a road edging on precipices, and overhung +by tremendous rocks, and, descending at last to the sea-level, we +entered _Mentone_, a town of the little principality of _Monaco_. +Having paid our twenty sous tribute to this prince of a territory not +larger than a Kentucky farm, we were suffered to cross his borders +once more into Sardinia, having posted through a whole State in less +than half an hour. + +It is impossible to conceive a route of more grandeur than the famous +road along the Mediterranean from Nice to Genoa. It is near a hundred +and fifty miles, over the edges of mountains bordering the sea for the +whole distance. The road is cut into the sides of the precipice, often +hundreds of feet perpendicular above the surf, descending sometimes +into the ravines formed by the numerous rivers that cut their way to +the sea, and mounting immediately again to the loftiest summits. It is +a dizzy business, from beginning to end. There is no parapet, usually, +and there are thousands of places where half a "shie" by a timid +horse, would drop you at once some hundred fathoms upon rocks wet by +the spray of every sea that breaks upon the shore. The loveliest +little nests of valleys lie between that can be conceived. You will +see a green spot, miles below you in turning the face of a rock; and +right in the midst, like a handful of plaster models on a carpet, a +cluster of houses, lying quietly in the warm southern exposure, +embosomed in everything refreshing to the eye, the mountain sides +cultivated in a large circle around, and the ruins of an old castle to +a certainty on the eminence above. You descend and descend, and wind +into the curves of the shore, losing and regaining sight of it +constantly, till, entering a gate on the sea-level, you find yourself +in a filthy, narrow, half-whitewashed town, with a population of +beggars, priests, and soldiers; not a respectable citizen to be seen +from one end to the other, nor a clean woman, nor a decent house. It +is so, all through Sardinia. The towns from a distance lie in the most +exquisitely-chosen spots possible. A river comes down from the hills +and washes the wall; the uplands above are always of the very choicest +shelter and exposure. You would think man and nature had conspired to +complete its convenience and beauty; yet, within, all is misery, dirt, +and superstition. Every corner has a cross--every bench a priest, +idling in the sun--every door a picture of the Virgin. You are +delighted to emerge once more, and get up a mountain to the fresh air. + +As we got farther on toward Genoa, the valleys became longer by the +sea, and the road ran through gardens, down to the very beach, of +great richness and beauty. It was new to me to travel for hours among +groves of orange and lemon trees, laden with both fruit and flower, +the ground beneath covered with the windfalls, like an American +apple-orchard. I never saw such a profusion of fruit. The trees were +breaking under the rich yellow clusters. Among other things, there +were hundreds of tall palms, spreading out their broad fans in the +sun, apparently perfectly strong and at home under this warm sky. They +are cultivated as ornaments for the churches on sacred days. + +I caught some half dozen views on the way that I shall never get out +of my memory. At one place particularly, I think near Fenale, we ran +round the corner of a precipice by a road cut right into the face of a +rock, two hundred feet at least above the sea; and a long view burst +upon us at once of a sweet green valley, stretching back into the +mountains as far as the eye could go, with three or four small towns, +with their white churches, just checkering the broad sweeps of +verdure, a rapid river winding through its bosom, and a back ground of +the Piedmontese Alps, with clouds half-way up their sides, and snow +glittering in the sun on their summits. Language cannot describe these +scenes. It is but a repetition of epithets to attempt it. You must +come and see them to feel how much one loses to live always at home, +and _read_ of such things only. + +The _courier_ pointed out to us the place in which Napoleon imprisoned +the Pope of Rome--a low house, surrounded with a wall close upon the +sea--and the house a few miles from Genoa, believed to have been that +of Columbus. + + * * * * * + +We entered Genoa an hour after sunrise, by a noble gate, placed at the +western extremity of the crescented harbor. Thence to the centre of +the city was one continued succession of sumptuous palaces. We drove +rapidly along the smooth, beautifully paved streets, and my +astonishment was unbroken till we were set down at the hotel. +Congratulating ourselves on the hindrances which had conspired to +bring us here against our will, we took coffee, and went to bed for a +few hours, fatigued with a journey more wearisome to the body than the +mind. + + * * * * * + +I have spent two days in merely wandering about Genoa, looking at the +exterior of the city. It is a group of hills, piled with princely +palaces. I scarce know how to commence a description of it. If there +were but one of these splendid edifices, or if I could isolate a +single palace, and describe it to you minutely, it would be easy to +convey an impression of the surprise and pleasure of a stranger in +Genoa. The whole city, to use the expression of a French guide-book, +"_respire la magnificence_"--breathes of splendor! The grand street, +in which most of the palaces stand, winds around the foot of a high +hill; and the gardens and terraces are piled back, with palaces above +them; and gardens, and terraces, and palaces still above these; +forming, wherever you can catch a vista, the most exquisite rising +perspective. On the summit of this hill stands the noble fortress of +St. George; and behind it a lovely open garden, just now alive with +millions of roses, a fountain playing into a deep oval basin in the +centre, and a view beneath and beyond of a broad winding valley, +covered with the country villas of the nobility and gentry, and +blooming with all the luxuriant vegetation of a southern clime. + +My window looks out upon the bay, across which I see the palace of +_Andria Doria_, the great winner of the best glory of the Genoese; and +just under me floats an American flag, at the peak of a Baltimore +schooner, that sails to-morrow morning for the United States. I must +close my letter, to send by her. I shall remain in Genoa a week, and +will write you of its splendor more minutely. + + + + +LETTER XXVII. + + FLORENCE--THE GALLERY--THE VENUS DE MEDICIS--THE TRIBUNE--THE + FORNARINA--THE CASCINE--AN ITALIAN FESTA--MADAME CATALANI. + + +FLORENCE.--It is among the pleasantest things in this very pleasant +world, to find oneself for the first time in a famous city. We sallied +from the hotel this morning an hour after our arrival, and stopped at +the first corner to debate where we should go. I could not help +smiling at the magnificence of the alternatives. "To the Gallery, of +course," said I, "to see the Venus de Medicis." "To Santa Croce," said +one, "to see the tombs of Michael Angelo, and Alfieri, and +Machiavelli." "To the Palazzo Pitti," said another, "the Grand Duke's +palace, and the choicest collection of pictures in the world." The +embarrassment alone was quite a sensation. + +The Venus carried the day. We crossed the Piazza de Granduca, and +inquired for the gallery. A fine court was shown us, opening out from +the square, around the three sides of which stood a fine uniform +structure, with a colonnade, the lower story occupied by shops and +crowded with people. We mounted a broad staircase, and requested of +the soldier at the door to be directed to the presence of the Venus, +without delay. Passing through one of the long wings of the gallery, +without even a glance at the statues, pictures, and bronzes that lined +the walls, we arrived at the door of a cabinet, and, putting aside the +large crimson curtain at the entrance, stood before the enchantress. I +must defer a description of her. We spent an hour there, but, except +that her divine beauty filled and satisfied my eye, as nothing else +ever did, and that the statue is as unlike a thing to the casts one +sees of it as one thing could well be unlike another, I made no +criticism. There is an atmosphere of fame and circumstantial interest +about the Venus, which bewilders the fancy almost as much as her +loveliness does the eye. She has been gazed upon and admired by troops +of pilgrims, each of whom it were worth half a life to have met at her +pedestal. The painters, the poets, the talent and beauty, that have +come there from every country under the sun, and the single feeling of +love and admiration that she has breathed alike into all, consecrate +her mere presence as a place for revery and speculation. Childe Harold +has been here, I thought, and Shelley and Wordsworth and Moore; and, +farther removed from our sympathies, but interesting still, the poets +and sculptors of another age, Michael Angelo and Alfieri, the men of +genius of all nations and times; and, to stand in the same spot, and +experience the same feeling with them, is an imaginative pleasure, it +is true, but as truly a deep and real one. Exceeding, as the Venus +does beyond all competition, every image of loveliness painted or +sculptured that one has ever before seen, the fancy leaves the eye +gazing upon it, and busies itself irresistibly with its pregnant +atmosphere of recollections. At least I found it so, and I must go +there again and again, before I can look at the marble separately, +and with a merely admiring attention. + + * * * * * + +Three or four days have stolen away, I scarce know how. I have seen +but one or two things, yet have felt so unequal to the description, +that but for my promise I should never write a line about them. +Really, to sit down and gaze into one of Titian's faces for an hour, +and then to go away and dream of putting into language its color and +expression, seems to me little short of superlative madness. I only +wonder at the divine faculty of sight. The draught of pleasure seems +to me immortal, and the eye the only Ganymede that can carry the cup +steadily to the mind. How shall I begin to give you an idea of the +Fornarina? What can I tell you of the St. John in the desert, that can +afford you a glimpse, even, of Raphael's inspired creations? + +The _Tribune_ is the name of a small octagonal cabinet in the gallery, +devoted to the masterpieces of the collection. There are five statues, +of which one is the Venus de Medicis; and a dozen or twenty pictures, +of which I have only seen as yet Titian's two Venuses, and Raphael's +St. John and Fornarina. People walk through the other parts of the +gallery, and pause here and there a moment before a painting or a +statue; but in the Tribune they sit down, and you may wait hours +before a chair is vacated, or often before the occupant shows a sign +of life. Everybody seems entranced there. They get before a picture, +and bury their eyes in it, as if it had turned them to stone. After +the Venus, the Fornarina strikes me most forcibly, and I have stood +and gazed at it till my limbs were numb with the motionless posture. +There is no affectation in this. I saw an English girl yesterday +gazing at the St. John. She was a flighty, coquettish-looking +creature, and I had felt that the spirit of the place was profaned by +the way she sailed into the room. She sat down, with half a glance at +the Venus, and began to look at this picture. It is a glorious thing, +to be sure, a youth of apparently seventeen, with a leopard-skin about +his loins, in the very pride of maturing manliness and beauty. The +expression of the face is all human, but wrought to the very limit of +celestial enthusiasm. The wonderful richness of the coloring, the +exquisite ripe fulness of the limbs, the passionate devotion of the +kindling features, combine to make it the faultless ideal of a perfect +human being in youth. I had quite forgotten the intruder, for an hour. +Quite a different picture had absorbed all my attention. The entrance +of some one disturbed me, and as I looked around I caught a glance of +my coquette, sitting with her hands awkwardly clasped over her +guide-book, her mouth open, and the lower jaw hanging down with a +ludicrous expression of unconsciousness and astonished admiration. She +was evidently unaware of everything in the world except the form +before her, and a more absorbed and sincere wonder I never witnessed. + +I have been enjoying all day an Italian Festa. The Florentines have a +pleasant custom of celebrating this particular festival, +Ascension-day, in the open air; breakfasting, dining, and dancing +under the superb trees of the Cascine. This is, by the way, quite the +loveliest public pleasure-ground I ever saw--a wood of three miles in +circumference, lying on the banks of the Arno, just below the town; +not, like most European promenades, a bare field of clay or ground, +set out with stunted trees, and cut into rectangular walks, or +without a secluded spot or an untrodden blade of grass; but full of +sward-paths, green and embowered, the underbrush growing wild and +luxuriant between; ivy and vines of all descriptions hanging from the +limbs, and winding about every trunk; and here and there a splendid +opening of velvet grass for half a mile, with an ornamental temple in +the centre, and beautiful contrivances of perspective in every +direction. I have been not a little surprised with the enchantment of +so public a place. You step into the woods from the very pavement of +one of the most populous streets in Florence; from dust and noise and +a crowd of busy people to scenes where Boccacio might have fitly laid +his "hundred tales of love." The river skirts the Cascine on one side, +and the extensive grounds of a young Russian nobleman's villa on the +other; and here at sunset come all the world to walk and drive, and on +festas like this, to encamp, and keep holy-day under the trees. The +whole place is more like a half-redeemed wild-wood in America, than a +public promenade in Europe. + +It is the custom, I am told, for the Grand Duke and the nobles of +Tuscany to join in this festival, and breakfast in the open air with +the people. The late death of the young and beautiful Grand-Duchess +has prevented it this year, and the merry-makings are diminished of +one half their interest. I should not have imagined it, however, +without the information. I took a long stroll among the tents this +morning, with two ladies from Albany, old friends, whom I have +encountered accidentally in Florence. The scenes were peculiar and +perfectly Italian. Everything was done fantastically and tastefully. +The tables were set about the knolls, the bonnets and shawls hung upon +the trees, and the dark-eyed men and girls, with their expressive +faces full of enjoyment, leaned around upon the grass, with the +children playing among them, in innumerable little parties, dispersed +as if it had been managed by a painter. At every few steps a long +embowered alley stretched off to the right or left, with strolling +groups scattered as far as the eye could see under the trees, the red +ribands and bright colored costumes contrasting gayly with the foliage +of every tint, from the dusky leaf of the olive to the bright soft +green of the acacia. Wherever there was a circular opening there were +tents just in the edges of the wood, the white festoons of the cloth +hung from the limbs, and tables spread under them, with their +antique-looking Tuscan pitchers wreathed with vines, and tables spread +with broad green leaves, making the prettiest cool covering that could +be conceived. I have not come up to the reality in this description, +and yet, on reading it, it sounds half a fiction. One must be here to +feel how little language can convey an idea of this "garden of the +world." + +The evening was the fashionable hour, and, with the addition of Mr. +Greenough, the sculptor, to our party, we drove to the Cascine about +an hour before sunset to see the equipages, and enjoy the close of the +festival. The drives intersect these beautiful grounds irregularly in +every direction, and the spectacle was even more brilliant than in the +morning. The nobility and the gay world of Florence flew past us, in +their showy carriages of every description, the distinguished +occupants differing in but one respect from well-bred people of other +countries--_they looked happy_. If I had been lying on the grass, an +Italian peasant, with my kinsmen and friends, I should not have felt +that among the hundreds who were rolling past me, richer and better +born, there was one face that looked on me contemptuously or +condescendingly. I was very much struck with the universal air of +enjoyment and natural exhilaration. One scarce felt like a stranger in +such a happy-looking crowd. + +Near the centre of the grounds is an open space, where it is the +custom for people to stop in driving to exchange courtesies with their +friends. It is a kind of fashionable open air _soirée_. Every evening +you may see from fifty to a hundred carriages at a time, moving about +in this little square in the midst of the woods, and drawing up side +by side, one after another, for conversation. Gentlemen come +ordinarily on horseback, and pass round from carriage to carriage, +with their hats off, talking gayly with the ladies within. There could +not be a more brilliant scene, and there never was a more delightful +custom. It keeps alive the intercourse in the summer months, when +there are no parties, and it gives a stranger an opportunity of seeing +the lovely and the distinguished without the difficulty and restraint +of an introduction to society. I wish some of these better habits of +Europe were imitated in our country as readily as worse ones. + +After threading the embowered roads of the Cascine for an hour, and +gazing with constant delight at the thousand pictures of beauty and +happiness that met us at every turn, we came back and mingled in the +gay throng of carriages at the centre. The _valet_ of our lady-friends +knew everybody, and, taking a convenient stand, we amused ourselves +for an hour, gazing at them as they were named in passing. Among +others, several of the Bonaparte family went by in a splendid +barouche; and a heavy carriage, with a showy, tasselled hammer-cloth, +and servants in dashy liveries, stopped just at our side, containing +Madame Catalani, the celebrated singer. She has a fine face yet, with +large expressive features, and dark, handsome eyes. Her daughter was +with her, but she has none of her mother's pretensions to good looks. + + + + +LETTER XXVIII. + + THE PITTI PALACE--TITIAN'S BELLA--AN IMPROVISATRICE--VIEW FROM + A WINDOW--ANNUAL EXPENSE OF RESIDENCE AT FLORENCE. + + +I have got into the "back-stairs interest," as the politicians say, +and to-day I wound up the staircase of the _Pitti Palace_, and spent +an hour or two in its glorious halls with the younger Greenough, +without the insufferable and usually inevitable annoyance of a +_cicerone_. You will not of course, expect a regular description of +such a vast labyrinth of splendor. I could not give it to you even if +I had been there the hundred times that I intend to go, if I live long +enough in Florence. In other galleries you see merely the Arts, here +you are dazzled with the renewed and costly magnificence of a royal +palace. The floors and ceilings and furniture, each particular part of +which it must have cost the education of a life to accomplish, +bewilder you out of yourself, quite; and, till you can tread on a +matchless pavement or imitated mosaic, and lay your hat on a table of +inlaid gems, and sit on a sofa wrought with you know not what +delicate and curious workmanship, without nervousness or compunction, +you are not in a state to appreciate the pictures upon the walls with +judgment or pleasure. + +I saw but one thing well--Titian's BELLA, as the Florentines call it. +There are two famous Venuses by the same master, as you know, in the +other gallery, hanging over the Venus de Medicis--full-length figures +reclining upon couches, one of them usually called Titian's mistress. +The _Bella_ in the Pitti gallery, is a half-length portrait, dressed +to the shoulders, and a different kind of picture altogether. The +others are voluptuous, full-grown women. This represents a young girl +of perhaps seventeen; and if the frame in which it hangs were a +window, and the loveliest creature that ever trod the floors of a +palace stood looking out upon you, in the open air, she could not seem +more real, or give you a stronger feeling of the presence of +exquisite, breathing, human beauty. The face has no particular +character. It is the look with which a girl would walk to the casement +in a mood of listless happiness, and gaze out, she scarce knew why. +You feel that it is the habitual expression. Yet, with all its subdued +quiet and sweetness, it is a countenance beneath which evidently +sleeps warm and measureless passion, capacities for loving and +enduring and resenting everything that makes up a character to revere +and adore. I do not know how a picture can express so much--but it +does express all this, and eloquently too. + +In a fresco on the ceiling of one of the private chambers, is a +portrait of the late lamented Grand-duchess. On the mantelpiece in the +Duke's cabinet also is a beautiful marble bust of her. It is a face +and head corresponding perfectly to the character given her by common +report, full of nobleness and kindness. The Duke, who loved her with +a devotion rarely found in marriages of state, is inconsolable since +her death, and has shut himself from all society. He hardly slept +during her illness, watching by her bedside constantly. She was a +religious enthusiast, and her health is said to have been first +impaired by too rigid an adherence to the fasts of the church, and +self-inflicted penance. The Florentines talk of her still, and she +appears to have been unusually loved and honored. + + * * * * * + +I have just returned from hearing an _improvisatrice_. At a party last +night I met an Italian gentleman, who talked very enthusiastically of +a lady of Florence, celebrated for her talent of improvisation. She +was to give a private exhibition to her friends the next day at +twelve, and he offered politely to introduce me. He called this +morning, and we went together. + +Some thirty or forty people were assembled in a handsome room, +darkened tastefully by heavy curtains. They were sitting in perfect +silence when we entered, all gazing intently on the improvisatrice, a +lady of some forty or fifty years, of a fine countenance, and dressed +in deep mourning. She rose to receive us; and my friend introducing +me, to my infinite dismay, as an _improvisatore Americano_, she gave +me a seat on the sofa at her right hand, an honor I had not Italian +enough to decline. I regretted it the less that it gave me an +opportunity of observing the effects of the "fine phrensy," a pleasure +I should otherwise certainly have lost through the darkness of the +room. + +We were sitting in profound silence, the head of the improvisatrice +bent down upon her breast, and her hands clasped over her lap, when +she suddenly raised herself, and with both hands extended, commenced +in a thrilling voice, "_Patria!_" Some particular passage of +Florentine history had been given her by one of the company, and we +had interrupted her in the midst of her conception. She went on with +astonishing fluency, in smooth harmonious rhyme, without the +hesitation of a breath, for half an hour. My knowledge of the language +was too imperfect to judge of the finish of the style, but the +Italians present were quite carried away with their enthusiasm. There +was an improvisatore in company, said to be the second in Italy; a +young man, of perhaps twenty-five, with a face that struck me as the +very _beau ideal_ of genius. His large expressive eyes kindled as the +poetess went on, and the changes of his countenance soon attracted the +attention of the company. She closed and sunk back upon her seat, +quite exhausted; and the poet, looking round for sympathy, loaded her +with praises in the peculiarly beautiful epithets of the Italian +language. I regarded her more closely as she sat by me. Her profile +was beautiful; and her mouth, which at the first glance had exhibited +marks of age, was curled by her excitement into a firm, animated +curve, which restored twenty years at least by its expression. + +After a few minutes one of the company went out of the room, and wrote +upon a sheet of paper the last words of every line for a sonnet; and a +gentleman who had remained within, gave a subject to fill it up. She +took the paper, and looking at it a moment or two, repeated the sonnet +as fluently as if it had been written out before her. Several other +subjects were then given her, and she filled the same sonnet with the +same terminations. It was wonderful. I could not conceive of such +facility. After she had satisfied them with this, she turned to me and +said, that in compliment to the American improvisatore she would give +an ode upon America. To disclaim the character and the honor would +have been both difficult and embarrassing even for one who knew the +language better than I, so I bowed and submitted. She began with the +discovery of Columbus, claimed him as her countryman; and with some +poetical fancies about the wild woods and the Indians, mingled up +Montezuma and Washington rather promiscuously, and closed with a +really beautiful apostrophe to liberty. My acknowledgments were +fortunately lost in the general murmur. + +A tragedy succeeded, in which she sustained four characters. This, by +the working of her forehead and the agitation of her breast, gave her +more trouble, but her fluency was unimpeded; and when she closed, the +company was in raptures. Her gestures were more passionate in this +performance, but, even with my imperfect knowledge of the language, +they always seemed called for and in taste. Her friends rose as she +sunk back on the sofa, gathered round her, and took her hands, +overwhelming her with praises. It was a very exciting scene +altogether, and I went away with new ideas of poetical power and +enthusiasm. + + * * * * * + +One lodges like a prince in Florence, and pays like a beggar. For the +information of artists and scholars desirous to come abroad, to whom +exact knowledge on the subject is important, I will give you the +inventory and cost of my whereabout. + +I sit at this moment in a window of what was formerly the archbishop's +palace--a noble old edifice, with vast staircases and resounding +arches, and a hall in which you might put a dozen of the modern brick +houses of our country. My chamber is as large as a ball-room, on the +second story, looking out upon the garden belonging to the house, +which extends to the eastern wall of the city. Beyond this lies one of +the sweetest views in the world--the ascending amphitheatre of hills, +in whose lap lies Florence, with the tall eminence of _Fiesolé_ in the +centre, crowned with the monastery in which Milton passed six weeks, +while gathering scenery for his Paradise. I can almost count the panes +of glass in the windows of the bard's room; and, between the fine old +building and my eye, on the slope of the hill, lie thirty or forty +splendid villas, half-buried in trees (Madame Catalani's among them), +piled one above another on the steep ascent, with their columns and +porticoes, as if they were mock temples in a vast terraced garden. I +do not think there is a window in Italy that commands more points of +beauty. Cole, the American landscape painter, who occupied the room +before me, took a sketch from it. For neighbors, the Neapolitan +ambassador lives on the same floor, the two Greenoughs in the +ground-rooms below, and the palace of one of the wealthiest nobles of +Florence overlooks the garden, with a front of eighty-five windows, +from which you are at liberty to select any two or three, and imagine +the most celebrated beauty of Tuscany behind the crimson curtains--the +daughter of this same noble bearing that reputation. She was pointed +out to me at the Opera a night or two since, and I have seen as famous +women with less pretensions. + +For the interior, my furniture is not quite upon the same scale, but I +have a clean snow-white bed, a calico-covered sofa, chairs and tables +enough, and pictures three deep from the wall to the floor. + +For all this, and the liberty of the episcopal garden, I pay _three +dollars a month_! A dollar more is charged for lamps, boots, and +service, and a dark-eyed landlady of thirty-five mends my gloves, and +pays me two visits a day--items not mentioned in the bill. Then for +the feeding, an excellent breakfast of coffee and toast is brought me +for six cents; and, without wine, one may dine heartily at a +fashionable restaurant for twelve cents, and with wine, quite +magnificently for twenty-five. Exclusive of postage and pleasures, +this is all one is called upon to spend in Florence. Three hundred +dollars a year would fairly and largely cover the expenses of a man +living at this rate; and a man who would not be willing to live half +as well for the sake of his art, does not deserve to see Italy. I have +stated these unsentimental particulars, because it is a kind of +information I believe much wanted. I should have come to Italy years +ago if I had known as much, and I am sure there are young men in our +country, dreaming of this paradise of art in half despair, who will +thank me for it, and take up at once "the pilgrim's sandal-shoon and +scollop-shell." + + + + +LETTER XXIX. + + EXCURSION TO VENICE--AMERICAN ARTISTS--VALLEY OF FLORENCE-- + MOUNTAINS OF CARRARA--TRAVELLING COMPANIONS--HIGHLAND + TAVERN--MIST AND SUNSHINE--ITALIAN VALLEYS--VIEW OF THE + ADRIATIC--BORDER OF ROMAGNA--SUBJECTS FOR THE PENCIL--HIGHLAND + ITALIANS--ROMANTIC SCENERY--A PAINFUL OCCURRENCE--AN ITALIAN + HUSBAND--A DUTCHMAN, HIS WIFE AND CHILDREN--BOLOGNE--THE + PILGRIM--MODEL FOR A MAGDALEN. + + +I started for Venice yesterday, in company with Mr. Alexander and Mr. +Cranch, two American artists. We had taken the vetturino for Bologna, +and at daylight we were winding up the side of the amphitheatre of +Appenines that bends over Florence, leaving Fiesolé rising sharply on +our right. The mist was creeping up the mountain just in advance of +us, retreating with a scarcely perceptible motion to the summits, like +the lift of a heavy curtain; Florence, and its long, heavenly valley, +full of white palaces sparkling in the sun, lay below us, more like a +vision of a better world than a scene of human passion; away in the +horizon the abrupt heads of the mountains of Carrara rose into the +sky; and with the cool, fresh breeze of the hills, and the excitement +of the pleasant excursion before us, we were three of as happy +travellers probably as were to be met on any highway in this garden of +the world. + +We had six companions, and a motley crew they were--a little +effeminate Venetian, probably a tailor, with a large, noble-looking, +handsome contadina for a wife; a sputtering Dutch merchant, a fine, +little, coarse, good-natured fellow, with _his_ wife, and two very +small and very disagreeable children; an Austrian corporal in full +uniform; and a fellow in a straw hat, speaking some unknown language, +and a nondescript in every respect. The women and children, and my +friends, the artists, were my companions inside, the double dicky in +front accommodating the others. Conversation commenced with the +journey. The Dutch spoke their dissonant language to each other, and +French to us, the contadina's soft Venetian dialect broke in like a +flute in a chorus of harsh instruments, and our own hissing English +added to a mixture already sufficiently various. + +We were all day ascending mountains, and slept coolly under three or +four blankets at a highland tavern, on a very wild Appenine. Our +supper was gaily eaten, and our mirth served to entertain five or six +English families, whose chambers were only separated from the rough +raftered dining hall by double curtains. It was pleasant to hear the +children and nurses speaking English unseen. The contrast made us +realize forcibly the eminently foreign scene about us. The next +morning, after travelling two or three hours in a thick, drizzling +mist, we descended a sharp hill, and emerged at its foot into a +sunshine so sudden and clear, that it seemed almost as if the night +had burst into mid-day in a moment. We had come out of a black cloud. +The mountain behind us was capped with it to the summit. Beneath us +lay a map of a hundred valleys, all bathed and glowing in unclouded +light, and on the limit of the horizon, far off as the eye could span, +lay a long sparkling line of water, like a silver frame around the +landscape. It was our first view of the _Adriatic_. We looked at it +with the singular and indefinable emotion with which one always sees a +celebrated _water_ for the first time--a sensation, it seems to me, +which is like that of no other addition to our knowledge. The +Mediterranean at Marseilles, the Arno at Florence, the Seine at Paris, +affected me in the same way. Explain it who will, or can! + +An hour after, we reached the border of _Romagna_, the dominions of +the Pope running up thus far into the Appenines. Here our trunks were +taken off and searched more minutely. The little village was full of +the dark-skinned, romantic-looking Romagnese, and my two friends, +seated on a wall, with a dozen curious gazers about them, sketched the +heads looking from the old stone windows, beggars, buildings, and +scenery, in a mood of professional contentment. Dress apart, these +highland Italians are like North American Indians--the same copper +complexions, high cheek bones, thin lips, and dead, black hair. The +old women particularly, would pass in any of our towns for +full-blooded squaws. + +The scenery, after this, grew of the kind "which savage Rosa +dashed"--the only landscape I ever saw _exactly_ of the tints so +peculiar to Salvator's pictures. Our painters were in ecstasies with +it, and truly, the dark foliage, and blanched rocks, the wild glens, +and wind-distorted trees, gave the country the air of a home for all +the tempests and floods of a continent. The Kaatskills are tame to +it. + +The forenoon came on, hot and sultry, and our little republic began to +display its character. The tailor's wife was taken sick; and fatigue, +and heat, and the rough motion of the vetturino in descending the +mountains, brought on a degree of suffering which it was painful to +witness. She was a woman of really extraordinary beauty, and dignified +and modest as few women are in any country. Her suppressed groans, her +white, tremulous lips, the tears of agony pressing thickly through her +shut eyelids, and the clenching of her sculpture-like hands, would +have moved anything but an Italian husband. The little effeminate +villain treated her as if she had been a dog. She bore everything from +him till he took her hand, which she raised faintly to intimate that +she could not rise when the carriage stopped, and threw it back into +her face with a curse. She roused, and looked at him with a natural +majesty and calmness that made my blood thrill. "_Aspetta?_" was her +only answer, as she sunk back and fainted. + +The Dutchman's wife was a plain, honest, affectionate creature, +bearing the humors of two heated and ill-tempered children, with a +patience we were compelled to admire. Her husband smoked and laughed, +and talked villainous French and worse Italian, but was glad to escape +to the cabriolet in the hottest of the day, leaving his wife to her +cares. The baby screamed, and the child blubbered and fretted, and for +hours the mother was a miracle of kindness. The "drop too much," came +in the shape of a new crying fit from both children, and the poor +little Dutchwoman, quite wearied out, burst into a flood of tears, and +hiccupped her complaints in her own language, weeping unrestrainedly +for a quarter of an hour. After this she felt better, took a gulp of +wine from the black bottle, and settled herself once more quietly and +resignedly to her duties. We had certainly opened one or two very +fresh veins of human character, when we stopped at the gates. + +There is but one hotel for American travellers in Bologna, of course. +Those who have read Rogers's Italy, will remember his mention of "The +Pilgrim," the house where the poet met Lord Byron by appointment, and +passed the evening with him which he describes so exquisitely. We took +leave of our motley friends at the door, and our artists who had +greatly admired the lovely Venetian, parted from her with the regret +of old acquaintances. She certainly was, as they said, a splendid +model for a Magdalen, "majestical and sad," and, always in attitudes +for a picture: sleeping or waking, she afforded a succession of +studies of which they took the most enthusiastic advantage. + + + + +LETTER XXX. + + EXCURSION TO VENICE CONTINUED--BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF BOLOGNA-- + GALLERY OF THE FINE ARTS--RAPHAEL'S ST. CECILIA--PICTURES OF + CARRACCI--DOMENICHINOS' MADONNA DEL ROSARIO--GUIDO'S MASSACRE + OF THE INNOCENTS--THE CATHEDRAL AND THE DUOMO--EFFECTS OF + THESE PLACES OF WORSHIP, AND THE CEREMONIES, UPON THE MIND-- + RESORT OF THE ITALIAN PEASANTRY--OPEN CHURCHES-- + SUBTERRANEAN-CONFESSION CHAPEL--THE FESTA--GRAND PROCESSIONS-- + ILLUMINATIONS--AUSTRIAN BANDS OF MUSIC--DEPORTMENT OF THE PEOPLE + TO A STRANGER. + + +Another evening is here, and my friends have crept to bed with the +exclamation, "how much we may live in a day." Bologna is unlike any +other city we have ever seen, in a multitude of things. You walk all +over it under arcades, sheltered on either side from the sun, the +elegance and ornament of the lines of pillars depending on the wealth +of the owner of the particular house, but columns and arches, simple +or rich, everywhere. Imagine porticoes built on the front of every +house in Philadelphia or New York, so as to cover the sidewalks +completely, and, down the long perspective of every street, continued +lines of airy Corinthian, or simple Doric pillars, and you may faintly +conceive the impression of the streets of Bologna. With Lord Byron's +desire to forget everything English, I do not wonder at his selection +of this foreign city for a residence, so emphatically unlike, as it +is, to everything else in the world. + +We inquired out the gallery after breakfast, and spent two or three +hours among the celebrated master-pieces of the _Carracci_, and the +famous painters of the Bolognese school. The collection is small, but +said to be more choice than any other in Italy. There certainly are +five or six among its forty or fifty gems, that deserve each a +pilgrimage. The pride of the place is the St. Cecilia, by Raphael. +This always beautiful personification of music, a woman of celestial +beauty, stands in the midst of a choir who have been interrupted in +their anthem by a song, issuing from a vision of angels in a cloud +from heaven. They have dropped their instruments, broken, upon the +ground, and are listening with rapt attention, all, except the saint, +with heads dropped upon their bosoms, overcome with the glory of the +revelation. She alone, with her harp hanging loosely from her fingers, +gazes up with the most serene and cloudless rapture beaming from her +countenance, yet with a look of full and angelic comprehension, and +understanding of the melody and its divine meaning. You feel that her +beauty is mortal, for it is all woman; but you see that, for the +moment, the spirit that breathes through, and mingles with the harmony +in the sky, is seraphic and immortal. If there ever was inspiration, +out of holy writ, it touched the pencil of Raphael. + +It is tedious to read descriptions of pictures. I liked everything in +the gallery. The Bolognese style of color suits my eye. It is rich +and forcible, without startling or offending. Its delicious mellowness +of color, and vigor and triumphant power of conception, show two +separate triumphs of the art, which in the same hand are delightful. +The pictures of Ludovico Carracci especially fired my admiration. And +Domenichino, who died of a broken heart at Rome, because his +productions were neglected, is a painter who always touches me nearly. +His _Madonna del Rosario_ is crowded with beauty. Such children I +never saw in painting--the very ideals of infantile grace and +innocence. It is said of him, that, after painting his admirable +frescoes in the church of St. Andrew, at Rome, which, at the time, +were ridiculed unsparingly by the artists, he used to walk in on his +return from his studio, and gazing at them with a dejected air, remark +to his friend, that he "could not think they were _quite_ so bad--they +_might_ have been worse." How true it is, that, "the root of a great +name is in the dead body." + +Guido's celebrated picture of the "Massacre of the Innocents," hangs +just opposite the St. Cecilia. It is a powerful and painful thing. The +marvel of it to me is the simplicity with which its wonderful effects +are produced, both of expression and color. The kneeling mother in the +foreground, with her dead children before her, is the most intense +representation of agony I ever saw. Yet the face is calm, her eyes +thrown up to heaven, but her lips undistorted, and the muscles of her +face, steeped as they are in suffering, still and natural. It is the +look of a soul overwhelmed--that has ceased to struggle because it is +full. Her gaze is on heaven, and in the abandonment of her limbs, and +the deep, but calm agony of her countenance, you see that nothing +between this and heaven can move her more. One suffers in seeing such +pictures. You go away exhausted, and with feelings harassed and +excited. + +As we returned, we passed the gates of the university. On the walls +were pasted a sonnet printed with some flourish, in honor of _Camillo +Rosalpina_, the laureate of one of the academical classes. + +We visited several of the churches in the afternoon. The cathedral and +the Duomo are glorious places--both. I wish I could convey, to minds +accustomed to the diminutive size and proportions of our churches in +America, an idea of the enormous and often almost supernatural +grandeur of those in Italy. Aisles in whose distance the figure of a +man is almost lost--pillars, whose bases you walk round in wonder, +stretching into the lofty vaults of the roof, as if they ended in the +sky--arches of gigantic dimensions, mingling and meeting with the fine +tracery of a cobweb--altars piled up on every side with gold, and +marble, and silver--private chapels ornamented with the wealth of +nobles, let into the sides, each large enough for a communion--and +through the whole extent of the interior, an unencumbered breadth of +floor, with here and there a solitary worshipper on his knees, or +prostrated on his face--figures so small in comparison with the +immense dome above them, that it seems as if, could distance drown a +prayer, they were as much lost as if they prayed under the open sky! +Without having even a leaning to the Catholic faith, I love to haunt +their churches, and I am not sure that the religious awe of the +sublime ceremonies and places of worship does not steal upon me daily. +Whenever I am heated, or fatigued, or out of spirits, I go into the +first cathedral, and sit down for an hour. They are always dark, and +cool, and quiet; and the distant tinkling of the bell from some +distant chapel and the grateful odor of the incense, and the low, +just audible murmur of prayer, settles on my feelings like a mist, and +softens and soothes and refreshes me, as nothing else will. The +Italian peasantry who come to the cities to sell or bargain, pass +their noons in these cool places. You see them on their knees asleep +against a pillar, or sitting in a corner, with their heads upon their +bosoms; and, if it were as a place of retreat and silence alone, the +churches are an inestimable blessing to them. It seems to me, that any +sincere Christian, of whatever faith, would find a pleasure in going +into a sacred place and sitting down in the heat of the day, to be +quiet and devotional for an hour. It would promote the objects of any +denomination in our country, I should think, if the churches were thus +left always open. + +Under the cathedral of Bologna is a _subterranean confession-chapel_ +--as singular and impressive a device as I ever saw. It is dark +like a cellar, the daylight faintly struggling through a painted +window above the altar, and the two solitary wax candles giving +a most ghastly intensity to the gloom. The floor is paved with +tombstones, the inscriptions and death's heads of which you feel under +your feet as you walk through. The roof is so vaulted that every tread +is reverberated endlessly in hollow tones. All around are the +confession-boxes, with the pierced plates, at which the priest within +puts his ear, worn with the lips of penitents, and at one of the sides +is a deep cave, far within which, as in a tomb, lies a representation +on limestone of our Saviour, bleeding as he came from the cross, with +the apostles, made of the same cadaverous material, hanging over him! + +We have happened, by a fortunate chance, upon an extraordinary day in +Bologna--a _festa_, that occurs but once in ten years. We went out as +usual after breakfast this morning, and found the city had been +decorated over-night in the most splendid and singular manner. The +arcades of some four or five streets in the centre of the town were +covered with rich crimson damask, the pillars completely bound, and +the arches dressed and festooned with a degree of gorgeousness and +taste as costly as it was magnificent. The streets themselves were +covered with cloths stretched above the second stories of the houses +from one side to the other, keeping off the sun entirely, and making +in each street one long tent of a mile or more, with two lines of +crimson columns at the sides, and festoons of gauze, of different +colors, hung from window to window in every direction. It was by far +the most splendid scene I ever saw. The people were all there in their +gayest dresses, and we probably saw in the course of the day every +woman in Bologna. My friends, the painters, give it the palm for +beauty over all the cities they had seen. There was a grand procession +in the morning, and in the afternoon the bands of the Austrian army +made the round of the decorated streets, playing most delightfully +before the principal houses. In the evening there was an illumination, +and we wandered up and down till midnight through the fairy scene, +almost literally "dazzled and drunk with beauty." + +The people of Bologna have a kind of earnest yet haughty courtesy, +very different from that of most of the Italians I have seen. They bow +to the stranger, as he enters the _café_; and if they rise before him, +the men raise their hats and the ladies smile and curtsy as they go +out; yet without the least familiarity which could authorize farther +approach to acquaintance. We have found the officers, whom we meet at +the eating-houses, particularly courteous. There is something +delightful in this universal acknowledgment of a stranger's claims on +courtesy and kindness. I could well wish it substituted in our +country, for the surly and selfish manners of people in public-houses +to each other. There is neither loss of dignity nor committal of +acquaintance in such attentions; and the manner in which a gentleman +steps forward to assist you in any difficulty of explanation in a +foreign tongue, or sends the waiter to you if you are neglected, or +hands you the newspaper or his snuff-box, or rises to give you room in +a crowded place, takes away, from me at least, all that painful sense +of solitude and neglect one feels as a stranger in a foreign land. + +We go to Ferrara to-morrow, and thence by the Po to Venice. My letter +must close for the present. + + + + +LETTER XXXI. + + VENICE--THE FESTA--GONDOLIERS--WOMEN--AN ITALIAN SUNSET--THE + LANDING--PRISONS OF THE DUCAL PALACE--THE CELLS DESCRIBED BY + BYRON--APARTMENT IN WHICH PRISONERS WERE STRANGLED--DUNGEONS + UNDER THE CANAL--SECRET GUILLOTINE--STATE CRIMINALS--BRIDGE OF + SIGHS--PASSAGE TO THE INQUISITION AND TO DEATH--CHURCH OF ST. + MARC--A NOBLEMAN IN POVERTY, ETC., ETC. + + +You will excuse me at present from a description of Venice. It is a +matter not to be hastily undertaken. It has also been already done a +thousand times; and I have just seen a beautiful sketch of it in the +public prints of the United States. I proceed with my letters. + +The Venetian _festa_ is a gay affair, as you may imagine. If not so +beautiful and fanciful as the revels by moonlight, it was more +satisfactory, for we could see and be seen, those important +circumstances to one's individual share in the amusement. At four +o'clock in the afternoon, the links of the long bridge of boats across +the Giudecca were cut away, and the broad canal left clear for a mile +up and down. It was covered in a few minutes with gondolas, and all +the gayety and fashion of Venice fell into the broad promenade between +the city and the festal island. I should think five hundred were quite +within the number of gondolas. You can scarcely fancy the novelty and +agreeableness of this singular promenade. It was busy work for the +eyes to the right and left, with the great proportion of beauty, and +the rapid glide of their fairy-like boats. And the _quietness_ of the +thing was so delightful--no crowding, no dust, no noise but the dash +of oars and the ring of merry voices; and we sat so luxuriously upon +our deep cushions the while, threading the busy crowd rapidly and +silently, without a jar or touch of anything but the yielding element +that sustained us. + +Two boats soon appeared with wreaths upon their prows, and these had +won the first and second prizes at the last year's _regatta_. The +private gondolas fell away from the middle of the canal, and left them +free space for a trial of their speed. They were the most airy things +I ever saw afloat, about forty feet long, and as slender and light as +they could well be, and hold together. Each boat had six oars, and the +crews stood with their faces to the beak of their craft; slight, but +muscular men, and with a skill and quickness at their oars which I had +never conceived. I realized the truth and the force of Cooper's +inimitable description of the race in the Bravo. The whole of his book +gives you the very air and spirit of Venice, and one thanks him +constantly for the lively interest which he has thrown over everything +in this bewitching city. The races of the rival boats to-day were not +a regular part of the _festa_, and were not regularly contested. The +gondoliers were exhibiting themselves merely, and the people soon +ceased to be interested in them. + +We rowed up and down till dark, following here and there the boats +whose freights attracted us, and exclaiming every moment at some new +glimpse of beauty. There is really a surprising proportion of +loveliness in Venice. The women are all large, probably from never +walking, and other indolent habits consequent upon want of exercise; +and an oriental air, sleepy and passionate, is characteristic of the +whole race. One feels that he has come among an entirely new class of +women, and hence, probably, the far-famed fascination of Venice to +foreigners. + +The sunset happened to be one of those so peculiar to Italy, and which +are richer and more enchanting in Venice than in any other part of it, +from the character of its scenery. It was a sunset without a cloud; +but at the horizon the sky was dyed of a deep orange, which softened +away toward the zenith almost imperceptibly, the whole west like a +wall of burning gold. The mingled softness and splendor of these skies +is indescribable. Everything is touched with the same hue. A mild, +yellow glow is all over the canals and buildings. The air seems filled +with glittering golden dust, and the lines of the architecture, and +the outlines of the distant islands, and the whole landscape about you +is mellowed and enriched with a new and glorious light. I have seen +one or two such sunsets in America; but there the sunsets are bolder +and clearer, and with much more sublimity--they have rarely the +voluptuous coloring of those in Italy. + +It was delightful to glide along over a sea of light so richly tinted, +among those graceful gondolas, with their freights of gayety and +beauty. As the glow on the sky began to fade, they all turned their +prows toward San Marc, and dropping into a slower motion, the whole +procession moved on together to the stairs of the piazzetta; and by +the time the twilight was perceptible, the _cafés_ were crowded, and +the square was like one great _féte_. We passed the evening in +wandering up and down, never for an instant feeling like strangers, +and excited and amused till long after midnight. + +After several days' delay, we received an answer this morning from the +authorities, with permission to see the bridge of sighs, and the +prisons of the ducal palace. We landed at the broad stairs, and +passing the desolate court, with its marble pillars and statues green +with damp and neglect, ascended the "giant's steps," and found the +warder waiting for us, with his enormous keys, at the door of a +private passage. At the bottom of a staircase we entered a close +gallery, from which the first range of cells opened. The doors were +broken down, and the guide holding his torch in them for a moment in +passing, showed us the same dismal interior in each--a mere cave, in +which you would hardly think it possible to breathe, with a raised +platform for a bed, and a small hole in the front wall to admit food +and what air could find its way through from the narrow passage. There +were eight of these; and descending another flight of damp steps, we +came to a second range, differing only from the first in their slimy +dampness. These are the cells of which Lord Byron gives a description +in the notes to the fourth canto of Childe Harold. He has transcribed, +if you remember, the inscription from the ceilings and walls of one +which was occupied successively by the victims of the Inquisition. The +letters are cut rudely enough, and must have been done entirely by +feeling, as there is no possibility of the penetration of a ray of +light. I copied them with some difficulty, forgetting that they were +in print, and, comparing them afterward with my copy of Childe Harold, +I found them exactly the same, and I refer you, therefore, to his +notes. + +In a range of cells still below these, and almost suffocating from +their closeness, one was shown us in which prisoners were strangled. +The rope was passed through an iron grating of four bars, the +executioner standing outside the cell. The prisoner within sat upon a +stone, with his back to the grating, and the cord was passed round his +neck, and drawn till he was choked. The wall of the cell was covered +with blood, which had spattered against it with some violence. The +guide explained it by saying, that owing to the narrowness of the +passage the executioner had no room to draw the cord, and to expedite +his business his assistant at the same time plunged a dagger into the +neck of the victim. The blood had flowed widely over the wall, and ran +to the floor in streams. With the darkness of the place, the +difficulty I found in breathing, and the frightful reality of the +scenes before me, I never had in my life a comparable sensation of +horror. + +At the end of the passage a door was walled up. It led, in the times +of the republic, to dungeons under the canal, in which the prisoner +died in eight days from his incarceration, at the farthest, from the +noisome dampness and unwholesome vapors of the place. The guide gave +us a harrowing description of the swelling of their bodies, and the +various agonies of their slow death. I hurried away from the place +with a sickness at my heart. In returning by the same way I passed the +turning, and stumbled over a raised stone across the passage. It was +the groove of a secret guillotine. Here many of the state and +inquisition victims were put to death in the darkness of a narrow +passage, shut out even in their last moment from the light and breath +of heaven. The frame of the instrument had been taken away; but the +pits in the wall, which had sustained the axe, were still there; and +the sink on the other side, where the head fell, to carry off the +blood. And these shocking executions took place directly before the +cells of the other prisoners, within twenty feet from the farthest. In +a cell close to this guillotine had been confined a state criminal for +sixteen years. He was released at last by the arrival of the French, +and on coming to the light in the square of San Marc was struck blind, +and died in a few days. In another cell we stopped to look at the +attempts of a prisoner upon its walls, interrupted, happily, by his +release. He had sawed several inches into the front wall, with some +miserable instrument, probably a nail. He had afterward abandoned +this, and had, with prodigious strength, taken up a block from the +floor; and, the guide assured us, had descended into the cell below. +It was curious to look around his pent prison, and see the patient +labor of years upon those rough walls, and imagine the workings of the +human mind in such a miserable lapse of existence. + +We ascended to the light again, and the guide led us to a massive +door, with two locks, secured by heavy iron bars. It swung open with a +scream, and we mounted a winding stair, and + + "Stood in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs." + +Two windows of close grating looked on either side upon the long canal +below, and let in the only light to the covered passage. It is a +gloomy place within, beautifully as its light arch hangs in the air +from without. It was easy to employ the imagination as we stood on the +stone where Childe Harold had stood before us, and conjured up in +fancy the despair and agony that must have been pressed into the last +glance at light and life that had been sent through those barred +windows. Across this bridge the condemned were brought to receive +their sentence in the Chamber of the _Ten_, or to be confronted with +bloody inquisitors, and then were led back over it to die. The last +light that ever gladdened their eyes came through those close bars, +and the gay Giudecca in the distance, with its lively waters covered +with boats, must have made that farewell glance to a Venetian bitter +indeed. The side next the prison is now massively walled up. We +stayed, silently musing at the windows, till the old cicerone ventured +to remind us that his time was precious. + +Ordering the gondola round to the stairs of the piazetta, we strolled +for the first time into the church of San Marc. The four famous bronze +horses stood with their dilated nostrils and fine action over the +porch, bringing back to us Andrea Doria, and his threat; and as I +remembered the ruined palace of the old admiral at Genoa, and glanced +at the Austrian soldier upon guard, in the very shadow of the winged +lion, I could not but feel most impressively the moral of the +contrast. The lesson was not attractive enough, however, to keep us in +a burning sun, and we put aside the heavy folds of the drapery and +entered. How deliciously cool are these churches in Italy! We walked +slowly up toward the distant altar. An old man rose from the base of +one of the pillars, and put out his hand for charity. It is an +incident that meets one at every step, and with half a glance at his +face I passed on. I was looking at the rich mosaic on the roof, but +his features lingered in my mind. They grew upon me still more +strongly; and as I became aware of the full expression of misery and +pride upon them, I turned about to see what had become of him. My two +friends had done each the very same thing, with the same feeling of +regret, and were talking of the old man when I came back to them. We +went to the door, and looked all about the square, but he was no where +to be seen. It is singular that he should have made the same +impression upon all of us, of an old Venetian nobleman in poverty. +Slight as my glance was, the noble expression of sadness about his +fine white head and strong features, are still indelible in my memory. +The prophecy which Byron puts into the mouth of the condemned Doge, is +still true in every particular:-- + + ----"When the Hebrew's in thy palaces, + The Hun in thy high places, and the Greek + Walks o'er thy mart, and smiles on it for his; + When _thy patricians beg their bitter bread_," &c. + +The church of San Marc is rich to excess, and its splendid mosaic +pavement is sunk into deep pits with age and the yielding foundations +on which its heavy pile is built. Its pictures are not so fine as +those of the other churches of Venice, but its age and historic +associations make it by far the most interesting. + + + + +LETTER XXXII. + + VENICE--SCENES BY MOONLIGHT--THE CANALS--THE ARMENIAN + ISLAND--THE ISLAND OF THE INSANE--IMPROVEMENTS MADE BY + NAPOLEON--SHADED WALKS--PAVILION AND ARTIFICIAL + HILL--ANTIDOTES TO SADNESS--PARTIES ON THE CANALS--NARROW + STREETS AND SMALL BRIDGES--THE RIALTO--MERCHANTS AND + IDLERS--SHELL-WORK AND JEWELRY--POETRY AND HISTORY--GENERAL + VIEW OF THE CITY--THE FRIULI MOUNTAINS--THE SHORE OF ITALY--A + SILENT PANORAMA--THE ADRIATIC--PROMENADERS AND SITTERS, ETC. + + +We stepped into the gondola to-night as the shadows of the moon began +to be perceptible, with orders to Giuseppe to take us where he would. +_Abroad in a summer's moonlight in Venice_, is a line that might never +be written but as the scene of a play. You can not miss pleasure. If +it were only the tracking silently and swiftly the bosom of the +broader canals lying asleep like streets of molten silver between the +marble palaces, or shooting into the dark shadows of the narrower, +with the black spirit-like gondolas gliding past, or lying in the +shelter of a low and not unoccupied balcony; or did you but loiter on +in search of music, lying unperceived beneath the windows of a palace, +and listening, half asleep, to the sound of the guitar and the song of +the invisible player within; this, with the strange beauty of every +building about you, and the loveliness of the magic lights and +shadows, were enough to make a night of pleasure, even were no charm +of personal adventure to be added to the enumeration. + +We glided along under the Rialto, talking of Belvidera, and Othello, +and Shylock, and, entering a cross canal, cut the arched shadow of the +Bridge of Sighs, hanging like a cobweb in the air, and shot in a +moment forth to the full, ample, moonlit bosom of the Giudecca. This +is the canal that makes the harbor and washes the stairs of San Marc. +The Lido lay off at a mile's distance across the water, and, with the +moon riding over it, the bay between us as still as the sky above, and +brighter, it looked like a long cloud pencilled like a landscape in +the heavens. To the right lay the Armenian island, which Lord Byron +visited so often, to study with the fathers at the convent; and, a +little nearer the island of the Insane--spite of its misery, asleep, +with a most heavenly calmness on the sea. You remember the touching +story of the crazed girl, who was sent here with a broken heart, +described as putting her hand through the grating at the dash of every +passing gondola, with her unvarying and affecting "_Venite per me? +Venite per me?_" + +At a corner of the harbor, some three quarters of a mile from San +Marc, lies an island once occupied by a convent. Napoleon rased the +buildings, and connecting it with the town by a new, handsome street +and a bridge, laid out the ground as a public garden. We debarked at +the stairs, and passed an hour in strolling through shaded walks, +filled with the gay Venetians, who come to enjoy here what they find +nowhere else, the smell of grass and green leaves. There is a pavilion +upon an artificial hill in the centre, where the best lemonades and +ices of Venice are to be found; and it was surrounded to-night by +merry groups, amusing themselves with all the heart-cheering gayety of +this delightful people. The very sight of them is an antidote to +sadness. + +In returning to San Marc a large gondola crossed us, filled with +ladies and gentlemen, and followed by another with a band of music. +This is a common mode of making a party on the canals, and a more +agreeable one never was imagined. We ordered the gondolier to follow +at a certain distance, and spent an hour or two just keeping within +the softened sound of the instruments. How romantic are the veriest, +every-day occurrences of this enchanting city. + +We have strolled to-day through most of the narrow streets between the +Rialto and the San Marc. They are, more properly, alleys. You wind +through them at sharp angles, turning constantly, from the +interruption of the canals, and crossing the small bridges at every +twenty yards. They are dark and cool; and no hoof of any description +ever passing through them, the marble flags are always smooth and +clean; and with the singular silence, only broken by the shuffling of +feet, they are pleasant places to loiter in at noon-day, when the +canals are sunny. + +We spent a half hour on the _Rialto_. This is the only bridge across +the grand canal, and connects the two main parts of the city. It is, +as you see by engravings, a noble span of a single arch, built of pure +white marble. You pass it, ascending the arch by a long flight of +steps to the apex, and descending again to the opposite side. It is +very broad, the centre forming a street, with shops on each side, +with alleys outside these, next the parapet, usually occupied by +idlers or merchants, probably very much as in the time of Shylock. +Here are exposed the cases of shell-work and jewelry for which Venice +is famous. The variety and cheapness of these articles are surprising. +The Rialto has always been to me, as it is probably to most others, +quite the core of romantic locality. I stopped on the upper stair of +the arch, and passed my hand across my eyes to recall my idea of it, +and realize that I was there. One is disappointed, spite of all the +common sense in the world, not to meet Shylock and Antonio and Pierre. + + "Shylock and the Moor + And Pierre cannot be swept or worn away," + +says Childe Harold; and that, indeed, is the feeling everywhere in +these romantic countries. You cannot separate them from the characters +with which poetry or history once peopled them. + +At sunset we mounted into the tower of San Marc, to get a general view +of the city. The gold-dust atmosphere, so common in Italy at this +hour, was all over the broad lagunes and the far stretching city; and +she lay beneath us, in the midst of a sea of light, an island far out +into the ocean, crowned with towers and churches, and heaped up with +all the splendors of architecture. The Friuli mountains rose in the +north with the deep blue dyes of distance, breaking up the else level +horizon; the shore of Italy lay like a low line-cloud in the west; the +spot where the Brenta empties into the sea glowing in the blaze of the +sunset. About us lay the smaller islands, the suburbs of the sea-city, +and all among them, and up and down the Giudecca, and away off in the +lagunes, were sprinkled the thousand gondolas, meeting and crossing +in one continued and silent panorama. The Lido, with its long wall +hemmed in the bay, and beyond this lay the wide Adriatic. The floor of +San Marc's vast square was beneath, dotted over its many-colored +marbles with promenaders, its _cafés_ swarmed by the sitters outside, +and its long arcades thronged. One of my pleasantest hours in Venice +was passed here. + + + + +LETTER XXXIII. + + PALACES--PALAZZO GRIMANI--OLD STATUARY--MALE AND FEMALE + CHERUBS--THE BATH OF CLEOPATRA--TITIAN'S PALACE--UNFINISHED + PICTURE OF THE GREAT MASTER--HIS MAGDALEN AND BUST--HIS + DAUGHTER IN THE ARMS OF A SATYR--BEAUTIFUL FEMALE HEADS--THE + CHURCHES OF VENICE--BURIAL-PLACES OF THE DOGES--TOMB OF + CANOVA--DEPARTURE FOR VERONA, ETC. + + +We have passed a day in visiting palaces. There are some eight or ten +in Venice, whose galleries are still splendid. We landed first at the +stairs of the _Palazzo Grimani_, and were received by an old family +servant, who sat leaning on his knees, and gazing idly into the canal. +The court and staircase were ornamented with statuary, that had not +been moved for centuries. In the ante-room was a fresco painting by +Georgione, in which there were two _female_ cherubs, the first of that +sex I ever saw represented. They were beautifully contrasted with the +two male cherubs, who completed the picture, and reminded me strongly +of Greenough's group in sculpture. After examining several rooms, +tapestried and furnished in such a style as befitted the palace of a +Venetian noble, when Venice was in her glory, we passed on to the +gallery. The best picture in the first room was a large one by Cigoli, +_the bath of Cleopatra_. The four attendants of the fair Egyptian are +about her, and one is bathing her feet from a rich vase. Her figure is +rather a voluptuous one, and her head is turned, but without alarm, to +Antony, who is just putting aside the curtain and entering the room. +It is a piece of fine coloring, rather of the Titian school, and one +of the few good pictures left by the English, who have bought up +almost all the private galleries of Venice. + +We stopped next at the stairs of the noble old _Barberigo_ Palace, in +which Titian lived and died. We mounted the decaying staircases, +imagining the choice spirits of the great painter's time, who had +trodden them before us, and (as it was for ages the dwelling of one of +the proudest races of Venice) the beauty and rank that had swept up +and down those worn slabs of marble on nights of revel, in the days +when Venice was a paradise of splendid pleasure. How thickly come +romantic fancies in such a place as this. We passed through halls hung +with neglected pictures to an inner room, occupied only with those of +Titian. Here he painted, and here is a picture half finished, as he +left it when he died. His famous _Magdalen_, hangs on the wall, +covered with dirt; and so, indeed, is everything in the palace. The +neglect is melancholy. On a marble table stood a plaster bust of +Titian, moulded by himself in his old age. It is a most noble head, +and it is difficult to look at it, and believe he could have painted a +picture which hangs just against it--_his own daughter in the arms of +a satyr_. There is an engraving from it in one of the souvenirs; but +instead of a satyr's head, she holds a casket in her hands, which, +though it does not sufficiently account for the delight of her +countenance, is an improvement upon the original. Here, too, are +several slight sketches of female heads, by the same master. Oh how +beautiful they are! There is one, less than the size of life, which I +would rather have than his Magdalen. + + * * * * * + +I have spent my last day in Venice in visiting churches. Their +splendor makes the eye ache and the imagination weary. You would think +the surplus wealth of half the empires of the world would scarce +suffice to fill them as they are. I can give you no descriptions. The +gorgeous tombs of the Doges are interesting, and the plain black +monument over Marino Faliero made me linger. Canova's tomb is +splendid; and the simple slab under your feet in the church of the +Frari, where Titian lies with his brief epitaph, is affecting--but, +though I shall remember all these, the simplest as well as the +grandest, a description would be wearisome to all who had not seen +them. This evening at sunset I start in the post-boat for the +mainland, on my way to the place of Juliet's tomb--Verona. My friends, +the painters, are so attracted with the galleries here that they +remain to copy, and I go back alone. Take a short letter from me this +time, and expect to hear from me by the next earliest opportunity, and +more at length. Adieu. + + + + +LETTER XXXIV. + + DEPARTURE FROM VENICE--A SUNSET SCENE--PADUA--SPLENDID + HOTEL--MANNERS OF THE COUNTRY--VICENZA--MIDNIGHT--LADY + RETURNING FROM A PARTY--VERONA--JULIET'S TOMB--THE TOMB OF THE + CAPULETS--THE TOMBS OF THE SCALIGERS--TWO GENTLEMEN OF + VERONA--A WALKING CHRONICLE--PALACE OF THE CAPULETS--ONLY COOL + PLACE IN AN ITALIAN CITY--BANQUETING HALL OF THE + CAPULETS--FACTS AND FICTION, ETC. + + +We pushed from the post-office stairs in a gondola with six oars at +sunset. It was melancholy to leave Venice. A hasty farewell look, as +we sped down the grand canal, at the gorgeous palaces, even less +famous than beautiful--a glance at the disappearing Rialto, and we +shot out into the Giudecca in a blaze of sunset glory. Oh how +magnificently looked Venice in that light--rising behind us from the +sea--all her superb towers and palaces, turrets and spires, fused into +gold; and the waters about her, like a mirror of stained glass, +without a ripple! + +An hour and a half of hard rowing brought us to the nearest land. You +should go to Venice to know how like a dream a reality may be. You +will find it difficult to realize, when you smell once more the fresh +earth and grass and flowers, and walk about and see fields and +mountains, that this city upon the sea exists out of the imagination. +You float to it and about it and from it, in their light craft, so +aerially, that it seems a vision. + +With a drive of two or three hours, half twilight, half moonlight, we +entered _Padua_. It was too late to see the portrait of Petrarch, and +I had not time to go to his tomb at Arqua, twelve miles distant, so, +musing on Livy and Galileo, to both of whom Padua was a home, I +inquired for a _café_. A new one had lately been built in the centre +of the town, quite the largest and most thronged I ever saw. Eight or +ten large, high-roofed halls were open, and filled with tables, at +which sat more beauty and fashion than I supposed all Padua could have +mustered. I walked through one after another, without finding a seat, +and was about turning to go out, and seek a place of less pretension, +when an elderly lady, who sat with a party of seven, eating ices, +rose, with Italian courtesy, and offered me a chair at their table. I +accepted it, and made the acquaintance of eight as agreeable and +polished people as it has been my fortune to meet. We parted as if we +had known each other as many weeks as minutes. I mention it as an +instance of the manners of the country. + +Three hours more, through spicy fields and on a road lined with the +country-houses of the Venetian nobles, brought us to _Vicenza_. It was +past midnight, and not a soul stirring in the bright moonlit streets. +I remember it as a kind of city of the dead. As we passed out of the +opposite gate, we detained for a moment a carriage, with servants in +splendid liveries, and a lady inside returning from a party, in full +dress. I have rarely seen so beautiful a head. The lamps shone +strongly on a broad pearl fillet on her forehead, and lighted up +features such as we do not often meet even in Italy. A gentleman +leaned back in the corner of the carriage, fast asleep--probably her +husband! + + * * * * * + +I breakfasted at _Verona_ at seven. A humpbacked _cicerone_ there took +me to "Juliet's tomb." A very high wall, green with age, surrounds +what was once a cemetery, just outside the city. An old woman answered +the bell at the dilapidated gate, and, without saying a word, pointed +to an empty granite sarcophagus, raised upon a rude pile of stones. +"Questa?" asked I, with a doubtful look. "Questa," said the old woman. +"Questa!" said the hunchback. And here, I was to believe, lay the +gentle Juliet! There was a raised place in the sarcophagus, with a +hollowed socket for the head, and it was about the measure for a +woman! I ran my fingers through the cavity, and tried to imagine the +dark curls that covered the hand of Father Lawrence as he laid her +down in the trance, and fitted her beautiful head softly to the place. +But where was "the tomb of the Capulets?" The beldame took me through +a cabbage-garden, and drove off a donkey who was feeding on an +artichoke that grew on the very spot. "Ecco!" said she, pointing to +one of the slightly sunken spots on the surface. I deferred my belief, +and paying an extra paul for the privilege of chipping off a fragment +of the stone coffin, followed the cicerone. + +The _tombs of the Scaligers_ were more authentic. They stand in the +centre of the town, with a highly ornamental railing about them, and +are a perfect mockery of death with their splendor. If the poets and +scholars whom these petty princes drew to their court had been buried +in these airy tombs beside them, one would look at them with some +interest. _Now_, one asks, "who were the Scaligers, that their bodies +should be lifted high in air in the midst of a city, and kept for +ages, in marble and precious stones?" With less ostentation, however, +it were pleasant to be so disposed of after death, lifted thus into +the sun, and in sight of moving and living creatures. + +I inquired for the old palace of the Capulets. The cicerone knew +nothing about it, and I dismissed her and went into a _café_. "Two +gentlemen of Verona" sat on different sides; one reading, the other +asleep, with his chin on his cane--an old, white-headed man, of about +seventy. I sat down near the old gentleman, and by the time I had +eaten my ice, he awoke. I addressed him in Italian, which I speak +indifferently; but, stumbling for a word, he politely helped me out in +French, and I went on in that language with my inquiries. He was the +very man--a walking chronicle of Verona. He took up his hat and cane +to conduct me to _casa Capuletti_, and on the way told me the true +history, as I had heard it before, which differs but little, as you +know, from Shakspeare's version. The whole story is in the annuals. + +After a half hour's walk among the handsomer, and more modern parts of +the city, we stopped opposite a house of an antique construction, but +newly stuccoed and painted. A wheelwright occupied the lower story, +and by the sign, the upper part was used as a tavern. "Impossible!" +said I, as I looked at the fresh front and the staring sign. The old +gentleman smiled, and kept his cane pointed at it in silence. "It is +well authenticated," said he, after enjoying my astonishment a minute +or two, "and the interior still bears marks of a palace." We went in +and mounted the dirty staircase to a large hall on the second floor. +The frescoes and cornices had not been touched, and I invited my kind +old friend to an early dinner on the spot. He accepted, and we went +back to the cathedral, and sat an hour in the only cool place in an +Italian city. The best dinner the house could afford was ready when we +returned, and a pleasanter one it has never been my fortune to sit +down to; though, for the meats, I have eaten better. That I relished +an hour in the very hall where the masque must have been held, to +which Romeo ventured in the house of his enemy, to see the fair +Juliet, you may easily believe. The wine was not so bad, either, that +my imagination did not warm all fiction into fact; and another time, +perhaps, I may describe my old friend and the dinner more +particularly. + + + + +LETTER XXXV. + + ANOTHER SHORT LETTER--DEPARTURE FROM VERONA--MANTUA--FLEAS-- + FLEAS--MODENA--TASSONI'S BUCKET--A MAN GOING TO EXECUTION--THE + DUKE OF MODENA--BOLOGNA--AUSTRIAN OFFICERS--THE APPENINES-- + MOONLIGHT ON THE MOUNTAINS--ENGLISH BRIDAL PARTY--PICTURESQUE + SUPPER, ETC. + + +I left Verona with the courier at sunset, and was at _Mantua_ in a few +hours. I went to bed in a dirty hotel, the best in the place, and +awoke, bitten at every pore by fleas--the first I have encountered in +Italy, strange as it may seem, in a country that swarms with them. For +the next twenty-four hours I was in such positive pain that my +interest in "Virgil's birthplace" quite evaporated. I hired a +_caleche_, and travelled all night to _Modena_. + +I liked the town as I drove in, and after sleeping an hour or two, I +went out in search of "Tassoni's bucket" (which Rogers says _is not +the true one_), and the picture of "_Ginevra_." The first thing I met +was a man going to execution. He was a tall, exceedingly handsome man; +and, I thought, a marked gentleman, even in his fetters. He was one of +the body-guard of the duke, and had joined a conspiracy against him, +in which he had taken the first step by firing at him from a window +as he passed. I saw him guillotined, but I will spare you the +description. The duke is the worst tyrant in Italy, it is well known, +and has been fired at _eighteen times_ in the streets. So said the +cicerone, who added, that "the d----l took care of his own." After +many fruitless inquiries, I could find nothing of "the picture," and I +took my place for Bologna in the afternoon. + +I was at Bologna at ten the next morning. As I felt rather indisposed, +I retained my seat with the courier for Florence; and, hungry with +travel and a long fast, went into a _restaurant_, to make the best use +of the hour given me for refreshment. A party of Austrian officers sat +at one end of the only table, breakfasting; and here I experienced the +first rudeness I have seen in Europe. I mention it to show its rarity, +and the manner in which, even among military men, a quarrel is guarded +against or prevented. A young man, who seemed the wit of the party, +chose to make comments from time to time on the solidity of what he +considered my breakfast. These became at last so pointed, that I was +compelled to rise and demand an apology. With one voice, all except +the offender, immediately sided with me, and insisted on the justice +of the demand, with so many apologies of their own, that I regretted +noticing the thing at all. The young man rose, after a minute, and +offered me his hand in the frankest manner; and then calling for a +fresh bottle, they drank wine with me, and I went back to my +breakfast. In America, such an incident would have ended, nine times +out of ten, in a duel. + +The two mounted _gens d'armes_, who usually attend the courier at +night, joined us as we began to ascend the Appenines. We stopped at +eleven to sup on the highest mountain between Bologna and Florence, +and I was glad to get to the kitchen fire, the clear moonlight was so +cold. Chickens were turning on the long spit, and sounds of high +merriment came from the rooms above. A _bridal party_ of English had +just arrived, and every chamber and article of provision was engaged. +They had nothing to give us. A compliment to the hostess and a bribe +to the cook had their usual effect, however; and as one of the +dragoons had ridden back a mile or two for my travelling cap, which +had dropped off while I was asleep, I invited them both, with the +courier, to share my bribed supper. The cloth was spread right before +the fire, on the same table with all the cook's paraphernalia, and a +merry and picturesque supper we had of it. The rough Tuscan flasks of +wine and Etruscan pitchers, the brazen helmets formed on the finest +models of the antique, the long mustaches, and dark Italian eyes of +the men, all in the bright light of a blazing fire, made a picture +that Salvator Rosa would have relished. We had time for a hasty song +or two after the dishes were cleared, and then went gayly on our way +to Florence. + +Excuse the brevity of this epistle, but I must stop here, or lose the +opportunity of sending. If my letters do not reach you with the utmost +regularity, it is no fault of mine. You can not imagine the difficulty +I frequently experience in getting a safe conveyance. + + + + +LETTER XXXVI. + + BATHS OF LUCCA--SARATOGA OF ITALY--HILL SCENERY--RIVER + LIMA--FASHIONABLE LODGINGS--THE VILLA--THE DUKE'S PALACE-- + MOUNTAINS--VALLEYS--COTTAGES--PEASANTS--WINDING-PATHS-- + AMUSEMENTS--PRIVATE PARTIES--BALLS--FETES--A CASINO--ORIGINALS + OF SCOTT'S DIANA VERNON AND THE MISS PRATT OF THE + INHERITANCE--A SUMMER IN ITALY, ETC., ETC. + + +I spent a week at the baths of Lucca, which is about sixty miles north +of Florence, and the Saratoga of Italy. None of the cities are +habitable in summer, for the heat, and there flocks all the world to +bathe and keep cool by day, and dance and intrigue by night, from +spring to autumn. It is very like the month of June in our country in +many respects, and the differences are not disagreeable. The scenery +is the finest of its kind in Italy. The whole village is built about a +bridge across the river Lima, which meets the Serchio a half mile +below. On both sides of the stream the mountains rise so abruptly, +that the houses are erected against them, and from the summits on both +sides you look directly down on the street. Half-way up one of the +hills stands a cluster of houses, overlooking the valley to fine +advantage, and these are rather the most fashionable lodgings. Round +the base of this mountain runs the Lima, and on its banks for a mile +is laid out a superb road, at the extremity of which is another +cluster of buildings, called the Villa, composed of the duke's palace +and baths, and some fifty lodging-houses. This, like the pavilion at +Saratoga, is usually occupied by invalids and people of more retired +habits. I have found no hill scenery in Europe comparable to the baths +of Lucca. The mountains ascend so sharply and join so closely, that +two hours of the sun are lost, morning and evening, and the heat is +very little felt. The valley is formed by four or five small +mountains, which are clothed from the base to the summit with the +finest chestnut woods; and dotted over with the nest-like cottages of +the Luccese peasants, the smoke from which, morning and evening, +breaks through the trees, and steals up to the summits with an effect +than which a painter could not conceive anything more beautiful. It is +quite a little paradise; and with the drives along the river on each +side at the mountain foot, and the trim winding-paths in the hills, +there is no lack of opportunity for the freest indulgence of a love of +scenery or amusement. + +Instead of living as we do in great hotels, the people at these baths +take their own lodgings, three or four families in a house, and meet +in their drives and walks, or in small exclusive parties. The Duke +gives a ball every Tuesday, to which all respectable strangers are +invited; and while I was there an Italian prince, who married into the +royal family of Spain, gave a grand _fete_ at the theatre. There is +usually some party every night, and with the freedom of a +watering-place, they are rather the pleasantest I have seen in Italy. +The Duke's chamberlain, an Italian cavalier, has the charge of a +_casino_, or public hall, which is open day and night for +conversation, dancing and play. The Italians frequent it very much, +and it is free to all well-dressed people; and as there is always a +band of music, the English sometimes make up a party and spend the +evening there in dancing or promenading. It is maintained at the +Duke's expense, lights, music, and all, and he finds his equivalent in +the profits of the gambling-bank. + +I scarce know who of the distinguished people I met there would +interest you. The village was full of coroneted carriages, whose +masters were nobles of every nation, and every reputation. The +originals of two well-known characters happened to be there--Scott's +_Diana Vernon_, and the _Miss Pratt_ of the Inheritance. The former is +a Scotch lady, with five or six children; a tall, superb woman still, +with the look of a mountain-queen, who rode out every night with two +gallant boys mounted on ponies, and dashing after her with the spirit +you would bespeak for the sons of Die Vernon. Her husband was the best +horseman there, and a "has been" handsome fellow, of about forty-five. +An Italian abbé came up to her one night, at a small party, and told +her he "wondered the king of England did not marry her." "Miss Pratt" +was the companion of an English lady of fortune, who lived on the +floor below me. She was still what she used to be, a much-laughed-at +but much-sought person, and it was quite requisite to know her. She +flew into a passion whenever the book was named. The rest of the world +there was very much what it is elsewhere--a medley of agreeable and +disagreeable, intelligent and stupid, elegant and awkward. The _women_ +were perhaps superior in style and manner to those ordinarily met in +such places in America, and the _men_ vastly inferior. It is so +wherever I have been on the continent. + +I remained at the baths a few weeks, recruiting--for the hot weather +and travel had, for the first time in my life, worn upon me. They say +that a summer in Italy is equal to five years elsewhere, in its +ravages upon the constitution, and so I found it. + + + + +LETTER XXXVII. + + RETURN TO VENICE--CITY OF LUCCA--A MAGNIFICENT WALL--A + CULTIVATED AND LOVELY COUNTRY--A COMFORTABLE PALACE--THE DUKE + AND DUCHESS OF LUCCA--THE APPENINES--MOUNTAIN SCENERY-- + MODENA--VIEW OF AN IMMENSE PLAIN--VINEYARDS AND FIELDS-- + AUSTRIAN TROOPS--A PETTY DUKE AND A GREAT TYRANT--SUSPECTED + TRAITORS--LADIES UNDER ARREST--MODENESE NOBILITY--SPLENDOR AND + MEANNESS--CORREGIO'S BAG OF COPPER COIN--PICTURE GALLERY-- + CHIEF OF THE CONSPIRATORS--OPPRESSIVE LAWS--ANTIQUITY-- + MUSEUM--BOLOGNA--MANUSCRIPTS OF TASSO AND ARIOSTO--THE + PO--AUSTRIAN CUSTOM-HOUSE--POLICE OFFICERS--DIFFICULTY ON + BOARD THE STEAMBOAT--VENICE ONCE MORE, ETC. + + +After five or six weeks _sejour_ at the baths of Lucca, the only +exception to the pleasure of which was an attack of the "country +fever," I am again on the road, with a pleasant party, bound for +Venice; but passing by cities I had not seen, I have been from one +place to another for a week, till I find myself to-day in Modena--a +place I might as well not have seen at all as to have hurried +through, as I was compelled to do a month or two since. To go back a +little, however, our first stopping-place was the city of Lucca, about +fifteen miles from the baths; a little, clean, beautiful gem of a +town, with a wall three miles round only, and on the top of it a broad +carriage road, giving you on every side views of the best cultivated +and loveliest country in Italy. The traveller finds nothing so rural +and quiet, nothing so happy-looking, in the whole land. The radius to +the horizon is nowhere more than five or six miles; and the bright +green farms and luxuriant vineyards stretch from the foot of the wall +to the summits of the lovely mountains which form the theatre around. +It is a very ancient town, but the duchy is so rich and flourishing +that it bears none of the marks of decay, so common to even more +modern towns in Italy. Here Cæsar is said to have stopped to +deliberate on passing the Rubicon. + +The palace of the Duke is the _prettiest_ I ever saw. There is not a +room in it you could not _live_ in--and no feeling is less common than +this in visiting palaces. It is furnished with splendor, too--but with +such an eye to comfort, such taste and elegance, that you would +respect the prince's affections that should order such a one. The Duke +of Lucca, however, is never at home. He is a young man of twenty-eight +or thirty, and spends his time and money in travelling, as caprice +takes him. He has been now for a year at Vienna, where he spends the +revenue of these rich plains most lavishly. The Duchess, too, travels +always, but in a different direction, and the people complain loudly +of the desertion. For many years they have now been both absent and +parted. The Duke is a member of the royal family of Spain, and at the +death of Maria Louisa of Parma, he becomes Duke of Parma, and the +duchy goes to Tuscany. + +From Lucca we crossed the Appenines, by a road seldom travelled, +performing the hundred miles to Modena in three days. We suffered, as +all must who leave the high roads in continental countries, more +privations than the novelty was worth. The mountain scenery was fine, +of course, but I think less so than that on the passes between +Florence and Bologna, the account of which I wrote a few weeks since. +We were too happy to get to Modena. + +Modena lies in the vast campagna lying between the Appenines and the +Adriatic--an immense plain looking like the sea as far as the eye can +stretch from north to south. The view of it from the mountains in +descending is magnificent beyond description. The capital of the +little duchy lay in the midst of us, like a speck on a green carpet, +and smaller towns and rivers varied its else unbroken surface of +vineyards and fields. We reached the gates just as a fine sunset was +reddening the ramparts and towers, and giving up our passports to the +soldier on guard, rattled into the hotel. + +The town is full of Austrian troops, and in our walk to the ducal +palace we met scarce any one else. The streets look gloomy and +neglected, and the people singularly dispirited and poor. This petty +Duke of Modena is a man of about fifty, and said to be the greatest +tyrant, after Don Miguel, in the world. The prisons are full of +suspected traitors; one hundred and thirty of the best families of the +duchy are banished for liberal opinions; three hundred and over are +now under arrest (among them a considerable number of ladies); and +many of the Modenese nobility are now serving in the galleys for +conspiracy. He has been shot at eighteen times. The last man who +attempted it, as I stated in a former letter, was executed the morning +I passed through Modena on my return from Venice. With all this he is +a fine soldier, and his capital looks in all respects like a garrison +in the first style of discipline. He is just now absent at a chateau +three miles in the country. + +The palace is a union of splendor and meanness within. The endless +succession of state apartments are gorgeously draped and ornamented, +but the entrance halls and intermediate passages are furnished with an +economy you would scarce find exceeded in the "worst inn's worst +room." Modena is Corregio's birthplace, and it was from a Duke of +Modena that he received the bag of copper coin which occasioned his +death. It was, I think, the meagre reward of his celebrated "Night," +and he broke a blood-vessel in carrying it to his house. The Duke has +sold this picture, as well as every other sufficiently celebrated to +bring a princely price. His gallery is a heap of trash, with but here +and there a redeeming thing. Among others, there is a portrait of a +boy, I think by Rembrandt, very intellectual and lofty, yet with all +the youthfulness of fourteen; and a copy of "Giorgione's mistress," +the "love in life" of the Manfrini palace, so admired by Lord Byron. +There is also a remarkably fine crucifixion, I forget by whom. + +The front of the palace is renowned for its beauty. In a street near +it, we passed a house half battered down by cannon. It was the +residence of the chief of a late conspiracy, who was betrayed a few +hours before his plot was ripe. He refused to surrender, and, before +the ducal troops had mastered his house, the revolt commenced and the +Duke was driven from Modena. He returned in a week or two with some +three thousand Austrians, and has kept possession by their assistance +ever since. While we were waiting dinner at the hotel, I took up a +volume of the Modenese law, and opened upon a statute forbidding all +subjects of the duchy to live out of the Duke's territories under pain +of the entire confiscation of their property. They are liable to +arrest, also, if it is suspected that they are taking measures to +remove. The alternatives are oppression here or poverty elsewhere, and +the result is that the Duke has scarce a noble left in his realm. + +Modena is a place of great antiquity. It was a strong-hold in the time +of Cæsar, and after his death was occupied by Brutus, and besieged by +Antony. There are no traces left, except some mutilated and uncertain +relics in the museum. + +We drove to Bologna the following morning, and I slept once more in +Rogers's chamber at "the Pilgrim." I have described this city, which I +passed on my way to Venice, so fully before, that I pass it over now +with the mere mention. I should not forget, however, my acquaintance +with a snuffy little librarian, who showed me the manuscripts of Tasso +and Ariosto, with much amusing importance. + +We crossed the Po to the Austrian custom-house. Our trunks were turned +inside out, our papers and books examined, our passports studied for +flaws--as usual. After two hours of vexation, we were permitted to go +on board the steamboat, thanking Heaven that our troubles were over +for a week or two, and giving Austria the common benediction she gets +from travellers. The ropes were cast off from the pier when a police +retainer came running to the boat, and ordered our whole party on +shore, bag and baggage. Our passports, which had been retained to be +sent on to Venice by the captain, were irregular. We had not passed +by Florence, and they had not the signature of the Austrian +ambassador. We were ordered imperatively back over the Po, with a flat +assurance, that, without first going to Florence, we never could see +Venice. To the ladies of the party, who had made themselves certain of +seeing this romance of cities in twelve hours, it was a sad +disappointment, and after seeing them safely seated in the return +shallop, I thought I would go and make a desperate appeal to the +commissary in person. My nominal commission as _attaché_ to the +Legation at Paris, served me in this case as it had often done before, +and making myself and the honor of the American nation responsible for +the innocent designs of a party of ladies upon Venice, the dirty and +surly commissary signed our passports and permitted us to remand our +baggage. + +It was with unmingled pleasure that I saw again the towers and palaces +of Venice rising from the sea. The splendid approach to the Piazzetta; +the transfer to the gondola and its soft motion; the swift and still +glide beneath the balconies of palaces, with whose history I was +familiar; and the renewal of my own first impressions in the surprise +and delight of others, made up, altogether, a moment of high +happiness. There is nothing like--nothing equal to Venice. She is the +city of the imagination--the realization of romance--the queen of +splendor and softness and luxury. Allow all her decay--feel all her +degradation--see the "Huns in her palaces," and the "Greek upon her +mart," and, after all, she is alone in the world for beauty, and, +spoiled as she has been by successive conquerors, almost for riches +too. Her churches of marble, with their floors of precious stones, and +walls of gold and mosaic; her ducal palace, with its world of art and +massy magnificence; her private palaces, with their fronts of inland +gems, and balconies and towers of inimitable workmanship and riches; +her lovely islands and mirror-like canals--all distinguish her, and +will till the sea rolls over her, as one of the wonders of time. + + + + +LETTER XXXVIII. + + VENICE--CHURCH OF THE JESUITS--A MARBLE CURTAIN--ORIGINAL OF + TITIAN'S MARTYRDOM OF ST. LAWRENCE--A SUMMER MORNING--ARMENIAN + ISLAND--VISIT TO A CLOISTER--A CELEBRATED MONK--THE POET'S + STUDY--ILLUMINATED COPIES OF THE BIBLE--THE STRANGER'S BOOK--A + CLEAN PRINTING-OFFICE--THE HOSPITAL FOR THE INSANE--INNOCENT + AND HAPPY-LOOKING MANIACS--THE CELLS FOR UNGOVERNABLE + LUNATICS--BARBARITY OF THE KEEPER--MISERABLE PROVISIONS-- + ANOTHER GLANCE AT THE PRISONS UNDER THE DUCAL PALACE--THE + OFFICE OF EXECUTIONER--THE ARSENAL--THE STATE GALLERY--THE + ARMOR OF HENRY THE FOURTH--A CURIOUS KEY--MACHINES FOR + TORTURE, ETC. + + +In a first visit to a great European city it is difficult not to let +many things escape notice. Among several churches which I did not see +when I was here before, is that of the _Jesuits_. It is a temple +worthy of the celebrity of this splendid order. The proportions are +finer than those of most of the Venetian churches, and the interior is +one tissue of curious marbles and gold. As we entered, we were first +struck with the grace and magnificence of a large heavy curtain, +hanging over the pulpit, the folds of which, and the figures wrought +upon it, struck us as unusually elegant and ingenious. Our +astonishment was not lessened when we found it was one solid mass of +verd-antique marble. Its sweep over the side and front of the pulpit +is as careless as if it were done by the wind. The whole ceiling of +the church is covered with _sequin gold_--the finest that is coined. +In one of the side chapels is the famous "Martyrdom of St. Lawrence," +by Titian. A fine copy of it (said in the catalogue to be the +original) was exhibited in the Boston Athenæum a year or two since. + + * * * * * + +It is Sunday, and the morning has been of a heavenly, summer, sunny +calmness, such as is seen often in Italy, and once in a year, perhaps, +in New England. It is a kind of atmosphere, that, to breathe is to be +grateful and happy. We have been to the Armenian island--a little gem +on the bosom of the Lagune, a mile from Venice, where stands the +monastery, to which place Lord Byron went daily to study and translate +with the fathers. There is just room upon it for a church, a convent, +and a little garden. It looks afloat on the water. Our gondola glided +up to the clean stone stairs, and we were received by one of the +order, a hale but venerable looking monk, in the Armenian dress, the +long black cassock and small round cap, his beard long and scattered +with gray, and his complexion and eyes of a cheerful, child-like +clearness, such as regular and simple habits alone can give. I +inquired, as we walked through the cloister, for the father with whom +Lord Byron studied, and of whom the poet speaks so often and so highly +in his letters. The monk smiled and bowed modestly, and related a +little incident that had happened to him at Padua, where he had met +two American travellers, who had asked him of himself in the same +manner. He had forgotten their names, but from his description I +presumed one to have been Professor Longfellow, of Bowdoin University. + +The stillness and cleanliness about the convent, as we passed through +the cloisters and halls, rendered the impression upon a stranger +delightful. We passed the small garden, in which grew a stately +oleander in full blossom, and thousands of smaller flowers, in neat +beds and vases, and after walking through the church, a plain and +pretty one, we came to the library, where the monk had studied with +the poet. It is a proper place for study--disturbed by nothing but the +dash of oars from a passing gondola, or the screams of a sea-bird, and +well furnished with books in every language, and very luxurious +chairs. The monk showed us an encyclopædia, presented to himself by an +English lady of rank, who had visited the convent often. His handsome +eyes flashed as he pointed to it on the shelves. We went next into a +smaller room, where the more precious manuscripts are deposited, and +he showed us curious illuminated copies of the Bible, and gave us the +stranger's book to inscribe our names. Byron had scrawled his there +before us, and the Empress Maria Louisa had written hers twice on +separate visits. The monk then brought us a volume of prayers, in +twenty-five languages, translated by himself. We bought copies, and +upon some remark of one of the ladies upon his acquirements, he ran +from one language to another, speaking English, French, Italian, +German, and Dutch, with equal facility. His English was quite +wonderful; and a lady from Rotterdam, who was with us, pronounced his +Dutch and German excellent. We then bought small histories of the +order, written by an English gentleman, who had studied at the island, +and passed on to the printing office--the first _clean_ one I ever +saw, and quite the best appointed. Here the monks print their Bibles, +and prayer-books in really beautiful Armenian type, beside almanacs, +and other useful publications for Constantinople, and other parts of +Turkey. The monk wrote his name at our request (Pascal Aucher) in the +blank leaves of our books, and we parted from him at the water-stairs +with sincere regret. I recommend this monastery to all travellers to +Venice. + +On our return we passed near an island, upon which stands a single +building--an insane hospital. I was not very curious to enter it, but +the gondolier assured us that it was a common visit for strangers, and +we consented to go in. We were received by the keeper, who went +through the horrid scene like a regular cicerone, giving us a cold and +rapid history of every patient that arrested our attention. The men's +apartment was the first, and I should never have supposed them insane. +They were all silent, and either read or slept like the inmates of +common hospitals. We came to a side door, and as it opened, the +confusion of a hundred tongues burst through, and we were introduced +into the apartment for women. The noise was deafening. After +traversing a short gallery, we entered a large hall, containing +perhaps fifty females. There was a simultaneous smoothing back of the +hair and prinking of the dress through the room. These the keeper +said, were the well-behaved patients, and more innocent and +happy-looking people I never saw. If to be happy is to be wise, I +should believe with the mad philosopher, that the world and the +lunatic should change names. One large, fine-looking woman took upon +herself to do the honors of the place, and came forward with a +graceful curtesy and a smile of condescension and begged the ladies to +take off their bonnets, and offered me a chair. Even with her +closely-shaven head and coarse flannel dress, she seemed a lady. The +keeper did not know her history. Her attentions were occasionally +interrupted by a stolen glance at the keeper, and a shrinking in of +the shoulders, like a child that had been whipped. One handsome and +perfectly healthy-looking girl of eighteen, walked up and down the +hall, with her arms folded, and a sweet smile on her face, apparently +lost in pleasing thought, and taking no notice of us. Only one was in +bed, and her face might have been a conception of Michael Angelo for +horror. Her hair was uncut, and fell over her eyes, her tongue hung +from her mouth, her eyes were sunken and restless, and the deadly +pallor over features drawn into the intensest look of mental agony, +completing a picture that made my heart sick. Her bed was clean, and +she was as well cared for as she could be, apparently. + +We mounted a flight of stairs to the cells. Here were confined those +who were violent and ungovernable. The mingled sounds that came +through the gratings as we passed were terrific. Laughter of a +demoniac wildness, moans, complaints in every language, screams--every +sound that could express impatience and fear and suffering saluted our +ears. The keeper opened most of the cells and went in, rousing +occasionally one that was asleep, and insisting that all should appear +at the grate. I remonstrated of course, against such a piece of +barbarity, but he said he did it for all strangers, and took no notice +of our pity. The cells were small, just large enough for a bed, upon +the post of which hung a small coarse cloth bag, containing two or +three loaves of the coarsest bread. There was no other furniture. The +beds were bags of straw, without sheets or pillows, and each had a +coarse piece of matting for a covering. I expressed some horror at the +miserable provision made for their comfort, but was told that they +broke and injured themselves with any loose furniture, and were so +reckless in their habits, that it was impossible to give them any +other bedding than straw, which was changed every day. I observed that +each patient had a wisp of long straw tied up in a bundle, given them, +as the keeper said, to employ their hands and amuse them. The wooden +blind before one of the gratings was removed, and a girl flew to it +with the ferocity of a tiger, thrust her hands at us through the bars, +and threw her bread out into the passage, with a look of violent and +uncontrolled anger such as I never saw. She was tall and very +fine-looking. In another cell lay a poor creature, with her face +dreadfully torn, and her hands tied strongly behind her. She was +tossing about restlessly upon her straw, and muttering to herself +indistinctly. The man said she tore her face and bosom whenever she +could get her hands free, and was his worst patient. In the last cell +was a girl of eleven or twelve years, who began to cry piteously the +moment the bolt was drawn. She was in bed, and uncovered her head very +unwillingly, and evidently expected to be whipped. There was another +range of cells above, but we had seen enough, and were glad to get out +upon the calm Lagune. There could scarcely be a stronger contrast than +between those two islands lying side by side--the first the very +picture of regularity and happiness, and the last a refuge for +distraction and misery. The feeling of gratitude to God for reason +after such a scene is irresistible. + + * * * * * + +In visiting again the prisons under the ducal palace, several +additional circumstances were told us. The condemned were compelled to +become executioners. They were led from their cells into the dark +passage where stood the secret guillotine, and without warning forced +to put to death a fellow-creature either by this instrument, or the +more horrible method of strangling against a grate. The guide said +that the office of executioner was held in such horror that it was +impossible to fill it, and hence this dreadful alternative. When a +prisoner was about to be executed, his clothes were sent home to his +family with the message, that "the state would care for him." How much +more agonizing do these circumstances seem, when we remember that most +of the victims were men of rank and education, condemned on suspicion +of political crimes, and often with families refined to a most +unfortunate capacity for mental torture! One ceases to regret the fall +of the Venetian republic, when he sees with how much crime and tyranny +her splendor was accompanied. + + * * * * * + +I saw at the arsenal to-day the model of the "Bucentaur," the state +galley in which the Doge of Venice went out annually to marry him to +the sea. This poetical relic (which, in Childe Harold's time, "lay +rotting unrestored") was burnt by the French--why, I can not conceive. +It was a departure from their usual habit of respect to the curious +and beautiful; and if they had been jealous of such a vestige of the +grandeur of a conquered people, it might at least have been sent to +Paris as easily as "Saint Mark's steeds of brass," and would have been +as great a curiosity. I would rather have seen the Bucentaur than all +their other plunder. The arsenal contains many other treasures. The +armor given to the city of Venice by Henry the Fourth is there, and a +curious key constructed to shoot poisoned needles, and used by one of +the Henrys, I have forgotten which, to despatch any one who offended +him in his presence. One or two curious machines for torture were +shown us--mortars into which the victim was put, with an iron armor +which was screwed down upon him till his head was crushed, or +confession stopped the torture. + + + + +LETTER XXXIX. + + VENICE--SAN MARC'S CHURCH--RECOLLECTIONS OF HOME--FESTA AT THE + LIDO--A POETICAL SCENE--AN ITALIAN SUNSET--PALACE OF + MANFRINI--PESARO'S PALACE AND COUNTRY RESIDENCE--CHURCH OF + SAINT MARY OF NAZARETH--PADUA--THE UNIVERSITY--STATUES OF + DISTINGUISHED FOREIGNERS THE PUBLIC PALACE--BUST OF TITUS + LIVY--BUST OF PETRARCH--CHURCH OF ST. ANTONY DURING MASS--THE + SAINT'S CHIN AND TONGUE--MARTYRDOM OF ST. AGATHA--AUSTRIAN AND + GERMAN SOLDIERS--TRAVELLER'S RECORD-BOOK--PETRARCH'S COTTAGE + AND TOMB--ITALIAN SUMMER AFTERNOON--THE POET'S HOUSE--A FINE + VIEW--THE ROOM WHERE PETRARCH DIED, ETC. + + +I was loitering down one of the gloomy aisles of San Marc's church, +just at twilight this evening, listening to the far-off Ave Maria in +one of the distant chapels, when a Boston gentleman, who I did not +know was abroad, entered with his family, and passed up to the altar. +It is difficult to conceive with what a tide the half-forgotten +circumstances of a home, so far away, rush back upon one's heart in a +strange land, after a long absence, at the sight of familiar faces. I +could realize nothing about me after it--the glittering mosaic of +precious stones under my feet, the gold and splendid colors of the +roof above me, the echoes of the monotonous chant through the +arches--foreign and strange as these circumstances all were. I was +irresistibly at home, the familiar pictures of my native place filling +my eye, and the recollections of those whom I love and honor there +crowding upon my heart with irresistible emotion. The feeling is a +painful one, and with the necessity for becoming again a forgetful +wanderer, remembering home only as a dream, one shrinks from such +things. The reception of a letter, even, destroys a day. + + * * * * * + +There has been a grand _festa_ to-day at the _Lido_. This, you know, +is a long island, forming part of the sea-wall of Venice. It is, +perhaps, five or six miles long, covered in part with groves of small +trees, and a fine green sward; and to the Venetians, to whom leaves +and grass are holyday novelties, is the scene of their gayest +_festas_. They were dancing and dining under the trees; and in front +of the fort which crowns the island, the Austrian commandant had +pitched his tent, and with a band of military music, the officers were +waltzing with ladies in a circle of green sward, making altogether a +very poetical scene. We passed an hour or two wandering among this gay +and unconscious people, and came home by one of the loveliest sunsets +that ever melted sea and sky together. Venice looked like a vision of +a city hanging in mid-air. + + * * * * * + +We have been again to that delightful _palace of Manfrini_. The +"Portia swallowing fire," the Rembrandt portrait, the far-famed +"Giorgione, son and wife," and twenty others, which to see is to be +charmed, delighted me once more. I believe the surviving Manfrini is +the only noble left in Venice. _Pesaro_, who disdained to live in his +country after its liberty was gone, died lately in London. His palace +here is the finest structure I have seen, and his country-house on the +Brenta is a paradise. It must have been a strong feeling which exiled +him from them for eighteen years. + +In coming from the Manfrini, we stopped at the church of "St. Mary of +Nazareth." This is one of those whose cost might buy a kingdom. Its +gold and marbles oppress one with their splendor. In the centre of the +ceiling is a striking fresco of the bearing of "Loretto's chapel +through the air;" and in one of the corners a lovely portrait of a boy +looking over a balustrade, done by the artist _fourteen years of age_! + + * * * * * + +PADUA.--We have passed two days in this venerable city of learning, +including a visit to Petrarch's tomb at Arqua. The university here is +still in its glory, with fifteen hundred students. It has never +declined, I believe, since Livy's time. The beautiful inner court has +two or three galleries, crowded with the arms of the nobles and +distinguished individuals who have received its honors. It has been +the "cradle of princes" from every part of Europe. + +Around one of the squares of the city, stand forty or fifty statues of +the great and distinguished foreigners who have received their +education here. It happened to be the month of vacation, and we could +not see the interior. + +At a public palace, so renowned for the size and singular architecture +of its principal hall, we saw a very antique bust of Titus Livy--a +fine, cleanly-chiselled, scholastic old head, that looked like the +spirit of Latin embodied. We went thence to the Duomo, where they show +a beautiful bust of Petrarch, who lived at Padua some of the latter +years of his life. It is a softer and more voluptuous countenance than +is given him in the pictures. + +The church of Saint Antony here has stood just six hundred years. It +occupied a century in building, and is a rich and noble old specimen +of the taste of the times, with eight cupolas and towers, twenty-seven +chapels inside, four immense organs, and countless statues and +pictures. Saint Antony's body lies in the midst of the principal +chapel, which is surrounded with relievos representing his miracles, +done in the best manner of the glorious artists of antiquity. We were +there during mass, and the people were nearly suffocating themselves +in the press to touch the altar and tomb of the saint. This chapel was +formerly lit by massive silver lamps, which Napoleon took, presenting +them with their models in gilt. He also exacted from them three +thousand sequins for permission to retain the chin and tongue of St. +Antony, which works miracles still, and are preserved in a splendid +chapel with immense brazen doors. Behind the main altar I saw a +harrowing picture by Tiepoli, of the martyrdom of St. Agatha. Her +breasts are cut off, and lying in a dish. The expression in the face +of the dying woman is painfully well done. + +Returning to the inn, we passed a magnificent palace on one of the +squares, upon whose marble steps and column-bases, sat hundreds of +brutish Austrian troops, smoking and laughing at the passers-by. This +is a sight you may see now through all Italy. The palaces of the +proudest nobles are turned into barracks for foreign troops, and there +is scarce a noble old church or monastery that is not defiled with +their filth. The German soldiers are, without exception, the most +stolid and disagreeable looking body of men I ever saw; and they have +little to soften the indignant feeling with which one sees them +rioting in this lovely and oppressed country. + +We passed an hour before bedtime in the usual amusement of travellers +in a foreign hotel--reading the traveller's record-book. Walter +Scott's name was written there, and hundreds of distinguished names +besides. I was pleased to find, on a leaf far back, "Edward Everett," +written in his own round legible hand. There were at least the names +of fifty Americans within the dates of the year past--such a wandering +nation we are. Foreigners express their astonishment always at their +numbers in these cities. + +On the afternoon of the next day, we went to Arqua, on a pilgrimage to +Petrarch's cottage and tomb. It was an Italian summer afternoon, and +the Euganean hills were rising green and lovely, with the sun an hour +high above them, and the yellow of the early sunset already commencing +to glow about the horizon. + +We left the carriage at the "pellucid lake," and went into the hills a +mile, plucking the ripe grapes which hung over the road in profusion. +We were soon at the little village and the tomb, which stands just +before the church door, "reared in air." The four laurels Byron +mentions are dead. We passed up the hill to the poet's house, a rural +stone cottage, commanding a lovely view of the campagna from the +portico. Sixteen villages may be counted from the door, and the two +large towns of Rovigo and Ferrara are distinguishable in a clear +atmosphere. It was a retreat fit for a poet. We went through the +rooms, and saw the poet's cat, stuffed and exhibited behind a wire +grating, his chair and desk, his portrait in fresco, and Laura's, and +the small closet-like room where he died. It was an interesting visit, +and we returned by the golden twilight of this heavenly climate, +repeating Childe Harold, and wishing for his pen to describe afresh +the scene about us. + + + + +LETTER XL. + + EXCURSION FROM VENICE TO VERONA--TRUTH OF BYRON'S DESCRIPTION + OF ITALIAN SCENERY--THE LOMBARDY PEASANTRY--APPEARANCE OF THE + COUNTRY--MANNER OF CULTIVATING THE VINE ON LIVING TREES--THE + VINTAGE--ANOTHER VISIT TO JULIET'S TOMB--THE OPERA AT + VERONA--THE PRIMA DONNA--ROMAN AMPHITHEATRE--BOLOGNA + AGAIN--MADAME MALIBRAN IN LA GAZZA LADRA--CHEAP LUXURIES--THE + PALACE OF THE LAMBACCARI--A MAGDALEN OF GUIDO CARRACCI-- + CHARLES THE SECOND'S BEAUTIES--VALLEY OF THE ARNO--FLORENCE + ONCE MORE. + + +Our gondola set us on shore at Fusina an hour or two before sunset, +with a sky (such as we have had for five months) without a cloud, and +the same promise of a golden sunset, to which I have now become so +accustomed, that rain and a dark heaven would seem to me almost +unnatural. It was the hour and the spot at which Childe Harold must +have left Venice, and we look at the "blue Friuli mountains," the +"deep-died Brenta," and the "Rhoetian hill," and feel the truth of +his description as well as its beauty. The two banks of the Brenta are +studded with the palaces of the Venetian nobles for almost twenty +miles, and the road runs close to the water on the northern side, +following all its graceful windings, and, at every few yards, +surprising the traveller with some fresh scene of cultivated beauty, +church, palace, or garden, while the gondolas on the stream, and the +fair "damas" of Italy sitting under the porticoes, enliven and +brighten the picture. These people live out of doors, and the road was +thronged with the _contadini_; and here and there rolled by a +carriage, with servants in livery; or a family of the better class on +their evening walk, sauntered along at the Italian pace of indolence, +and a finer or happier looking race of people would not easily be +found. It is difficult to see the athletic frames and dark flashing +eyes of the Lombardy peasantry, and remember their degraded condition. +You cannot believe it will remain so. If they think at all, they must, +in time, feel too deeply to endure. + +The guide-book says, the "traveller wants words to express his +sensations at the beauty of the country from Padua to Verona." Its +beauty is owing to the perfection of a method of cultivation universal +in Italy. The fields are divided into handsome squares, by rows of +elms or other forest trees, and the vines are trained upon these with +all the elegance of holyday festoons, winding about the trunks, and +hanging with their heavy clusters from one to the other, the foliage +of vine and tree mingled so closely that it appears as if they sprung +from the same root. Every square is perfectly enclosed with these +fantastic walls of vine-leaves and grapes, and the imagination of a +poet could conceive nothing more beautiful for a festival of Bacchus. +The ground between is sown with grass or corn. The vines are luxuriant +always, and often send their tendrils into the air higher than the +topmost branch of the tree, and this extends the whole distance from +Padua to Verona, with no interruption except the palaces and gardens +of the nobles lying between. + +It was just the season for gathering and pressing the grape, and the +romantic vineyards were full of the happy peasants, of all ages, +mounting the ladders adventurously for the tall clusters, heaping the +baskets and carts, driving in the stately gray oxen with their loads, +and talking and singing as merrily as if it were Arcadia. Oh how +beautiful these scenes are in Italy. The people are picturesque, the +land is like the poetry of nature, the habits are all as they were +described centuries ago, and as the still living pictures of the +glorious old masters represent them. The most every-day traveller +smiles and wonders, as he lets down his carriage windows to look at +the vintage. + + * * * * * + +We have been three or four days in Verona, visiting Juliet's tomb, and +riding through the lovely environs. The opera here is excellent, and +we went last night to see "Romeo and Juliet" performed in the city +renowned by their story. The _prima donna_ was one of those syrens +found often in Italy--a young singer of great promise, with that +daring brilliancy which practice and maturer science discipline, to my +taste, too severely. It was like the wild, ungovernable trill of a +bird, and my ear is not so nice yet, that I even would not rather feel +a roughness in the harmony than lose it. Malibran delighted me more in +America than in Paris. + +The opera was over at twelve, and, as we emerged from the crowded +lobby, the moon full, and as clear and soft as the eye of a child, +burst through the arches of the portico. The theatre is opposite the +celebrated Roman amphitheatre, and the wish to visit it by moonlight +was expressed spontaneously by the whole party. The _custode_ was +roused, and we entered the vast arena and stood in the midst, with the +gigantic ranges of stone seats towering up in a receding circle, as if +to the very sky, and the lofty arches and echoing dens lying black and +silent in the dead shadows of the moon. A hundred thousand people +could sit here; and it was in these arenas, scattered through the +Roman provinces, that the bloody gladiator fights, and the massacre of +Christians, and every scene of horror, amused the subjects of the +mighty mistress of the world. You would never believe it, if you could +have seen how peacefully the moonlight now sleeps on the +moss-gathering walls, and with what untrimmed grace the vines and +flowers creep and blossom on the rocky crevices of the windows. + +We arrived at Bologna just in time to get to the opera. Malibran in +_La Gazza Ladra_ was enough to make one forget more than the fatigue +of a day's travel. She sings as well as ever and plays much better, +though she had been ill, and looked thin. In the prison scene, she was +ghastlier even than the character required. There are few pleasures in +Europe like such singing as hers, and the Italians, in their excellent +operas, and the cheap rate at which they can be frequented, have a +resource corresponding to everything else in their delightful country. +Every comfort and luxury is better and cheaper in Italy than +elsewhere, and it is a pity that he who can get his wine for three +cents a bottle, his dinner and his place at the opera for ten, and has +lodgings for anything he chooses to pay, can not find leisure, and +does not think it worth the trouble, to look about for means to be +free. It is vexatious to see nature lavishing such blessings on +slaves. + +The next morning we visited a palace, which, as it is not mentioned in +the guide-books of travel, I had not before seen--the _Lambaccari_. It +was full of glorious pictures, most of them for sale. Among others we +were captivated with a Magdalen of unrivalled sweetness by _Guido +Carracci_. It has been bought since by Mr. Cabot, of Boston, who +passed through Bologna the day after, and will be sent to America, I +am happy to say, immediately. There were also six of "Charles the +Second's beauties,"--portraits of the celebrated women of that gay +monarch's court, by Sir Peter Lely--ripe, glowing English women, more +voluptuous than chary-looking, but pictures of exquisite workmanship. +There were nine or ten apartments to this splendid palace, all crowded +with paintings by the first masters, and the surviving Lambaccari is +said to be selling them one by one for bread. It is really melancholy +to go through Italy, and see how her people are suffering, and her +nobles starving under oppression. + +We crossed the Appenines in two of the finest days that ever shone, +and descending through clouds and mist to the Tuscan frontier, entered +the lovely valley of the Arno, sparkling in the sunshine, with all its +palaces and spires, as beautiful as ever. I am at Florence once more, +and parting from the delightful party with whom I have travelled for +two months. I start for Rome to-morrow, in company with five artists. + + + + +LETTER XLI. + + JOURNEY TO THE ETERNAL CITY--TWO ROADS TO ROME--SIENNA--THE + PUBLIC SQUARE--AN ITALIAN FAIR--THE CATHEDRAL--THE + LIBRARY--THE THREE GRECIAN GRACES--DANDY OFFICERS--PUBLIC + PROMENADE--LANDSCAPE VIEW--LONG GLEN--A WATERFALL--A + CULTIVATED VALLEY--THE TOWN OF AQUAPENDENTE--SAN + LORENZO--PLINY'S FLOATING ISLANDS--MONTEFIASCONE-- + VITERBO--PROCESSION OF FLOWER AND DANCING GIRLS TO THE + VINTAGE--ASCENT OF THE MONTECIMINO--THE ROAD OF THIEVES--LAKE + VICO--BACCANO--MOUNT SORACTE--DOME OF ST. PETER'S, ETC. + + +I left Florence in company with the five artists mentioned in my last +letter, one of them an Englishman, and the other four pensioners of +the royal academy at Madrid. The Spaniards had but just arrived in +Italy, and could not speak a syllable of the language. The Englishman +spoke everything but French, which he avoided learning _from +principle_. He "hated a Frenchman!" + +There are two roads to Rome. One goes by Sienna, and is a day shorter; +the other by Perugia, the Falls of Terni, Lake Thrasymene, and the +Clitumnus. Childe Harold took the latter, and his ten or twelve best +cantos describe it. I was compelled to go by Sienna, and shall return, +of course, by the other road. + +I was at Sienna on the following day. As the second capital of +Tuscany, this should be a place of some interest, but an hour or two +is more than enough to see all that is attractive. The public square +was a gay scene. It was rather singularly situated, lying fifteen or +twenty feet lower than the streets about it. I should think there were +several thousand people in its area--all buying or selling, and +vociferating, as usual, at the top of their voices. We heard the +murmur, like the roar of the sea, in all the distant streets. There +are few sights more picturesque than an Italian fair, and I strolled +about in the crowd for an hour, amused with the fanciful costumes, and +endeavoring to make out with the assistance of the eye, what rather +distracted my unaccustomed ear--the cries of the various wandering +venders of merchandise. The women, who were all from the country, were +coarse, and looked well only at a distance. + +The cathedral is the great sight of Sienna. It has a rich exterior, +encrusted with curiously wrought marbles, and the front, as far as I +can judge, is in beautiful taste. The pavement of the interior is very +precious, and covered with a wooden platform, which is removed but +once a year. The servitor raised a part of it, to show us the +workmanship. It was like a drawing in India ink, quite as fine as if +pencilled, and representing, as is customary, some miracle of a saint. + +A massive iron door, made ingeniously to imitate a rope-netting, opens +from the side of the church into the _library_. It contained some +twenty volumes in black letter, bound with enormous clasps and placed +upon inclined shelves. It would have been a task for a man of moderate +strength to lift either of them from the floor. The little sacristan +found great difficulty in only opening one to show us the letter. + +In the centre of the chapel on a high pedestal, stands the original +antique group, so often copied, of the three Grecian Graces. It is +shockingly mutilated; but its original beauty is still in a great +measure discernable. Three naked women are an odd ornament for the +private chapel of a cathedral.[1] One often wonders, however, in +Italian churches, whether his devotion is most called upon by the arts +or the Deity. + +As we were leaving the church, four young officers passed us in gay +uniform, their long steel scabbards rattling on the pavement, and +their heavy tread disturbing visibly every person present. As I turned +to look after them, with some remark on their coxcombry, they dropped +on their knees at the bases of the tall pillars about the altar, and +burying their faces in their caps, bowed their heads nearly to the +floor, in attitudes of the deepest devotion. Sincere or not, Catholic +worshippers of all classes _seem_ absorbed in their religious duties. +You can scarce withdraw the attention even of a child in such places. +In the six months that I have been in Italy, I never saw anything like +irreverence within the church walls. + +The public promenade, on the edge of the hill upon which the town is +beautifully situated, commands a noble view of the country about. The +peculiar landscape of Italy lay before us in all its loveliness--the +far-off hills lightly tinted with the divided colors of distance, the +atmosphere between absolutely clear and invisible, and villages +clustered about, each with its ancient castle on the hill-top above, +just as it was settled in feudal times, and as painters and poets +would imagine it. You never get a view in this "garden of the world" +that would not excuse very extravagant description. + +Sienna is said to be the best place for learning the language. Just +between Florence and Rome, it combines the "_lingua Toscano_," with +the "_bocca Romano_"--the Roman pronunciation with the Florentine +purity of language. It looks like a dull place, however, and I was +very glad after dinner to resume my passport at the gate and get on. + +The next morning, after toiling up a considerable ascent, we suddenly +rounded the shoulder of a mountain, and found ourselves at the edge of +a long glen, walled up at one extremity by a precipice with an old +town upon its brow, and a waterfall pouring off at its side, and +opening away at the other into a broad, gently-sloped valley, +cultivated like a garden as far as the eye could distinguish. I think +I have seen an engraving of it in the Landscape Annual. Taken +together, it is positively the most beautiful view I ever saw, from +the road edge, as you wind up into the town of _Acquapendente_. The +precipice might be a hundred feet, and from its immediate edge were +built up the walls of the houses, so that a child at the window might +throw its plaything into the bottom of the ravine. It is scarce a +pistol-shot across the glen, and the two hills on either side lean off +from the level of the town in one long soft declivity to the +valley--the little river which pours off the rock at the very base of +the church, fretting and fuming its way between to the meadows--its +stony bed quite hidden by the thick vegetation of its banks. The bells +were ringing to mass, and the echoes came back to us at long distances +with every modulation. The streets, as we entered the town, were full +of people hurrying to the churches; the women with their red shawls +thrown about their heads, and the men with their immense dingy cloaks +flung romantically over their shoulders, with a grace, one and all, +that in a Parisian dandy, would be attributed to a consummate study of +effect. For outline merely, I think there is nothing in costume which +can surpass the closely-stockinged leg, heavy cloak, and slouched hat +of an Italian peasant. It is added to by his indolent, and, +consequently, graceful motion and attitudes. Johnson, in his book on +the climate of Italy, says their sloth is induced by _malaria_. You +will see a man watching goats or sheep, with his back against a rock, +quite motionless for hours together. His dog feels, apparently, the +same influence, and lies couched in his long white hair, with his eyes +upon the flock, as lifeless, and almost as picturesque, as his master. + +The town of San Lorenzo is a handful of houses on the top of a hill +which hangs over Lake Bolsena. You get the first view of the lake as +you go out of the gate toward Rome, and descend immediately to its +banks. There was a heavy mist upon the water, and we could not see +across, but it looked like as quiet and pleasant a shore as might be +found in the world--the woods wild, and of uncommonly rich foliage for +Italy, and the slopes of the hills beautiful. Saving the road, and +here and there a house with no sign of an inhabitant, there can +scarcely be a lonelier wilderness in America. We stopped two hours at +an inn on its banks, and whether it was the air, or the influence of +the perfect stillness about us, my companions went to sleep, and I +could scarce resist my own drowsiness. + +The mist lifted a little from the lake after dinner, and we saw the +two islands said by Pliny to have floated, in his time. They look like +the tops of green hills rising from the water. + +It is a beautiful country again as you approach Montefiascone. The +scenery is finely broken up with glens formed by columns of basalt, +giving it a look of great wildness. Montefiascone is built on the +river of one of these ravines. We stopped here long enough to get a +bottle of the wine for which the place is famous, drinking it to the +memory of the "German prelate," who, as Madame Stark relates, "stopped +here on his journey to Rome, and died of drinking it to excess." It +has degenerated, probably, since his time, or we chanced upon a bad +bottle. + +The walls of _Viterbo_ are flanked with towers, and have a noble +appearance from the hill-side on which the town stands. We arrived too +late to see anything of the place. As we were taking coffee at the +_café_ the next morning, a half hour before daylight, we heard music +in the street, and looking out at the door, we saw a long procession +of young girls, dressed with flowers in their hair, and each playing a +kind of cymbal, and half dancing as she went along. Three or four at +the head of the procession sung a kind of verse, and the rest joined +in a short merry chorus at intervals. It was more like a train of +Corybantes than anything I had seen. We inquired the object of it, and +were told it was a procession _to the vintage_. They were going out to +pluck the last grapes, and it was the custom to make it a festa. It +was a striking scene in the otherwise perfect darkness of the streets, +the torch-bearers at the sides waving their flambeaux regularly over +their heads, and shouting with the rest in chorus. The measure was +quick, and the step very fast. They were gone in an instant. The whole +thing was poetical, and in keeping, for Italy. I have never seen it +elsewhere. + +We left Viterbo on a clear, mild autumnal morning; and I think I never +felt the excitement of a delightful climate more thrillingly. The +road was wild, and with the long ascent of the Monte-Cimino before us, +I left the carriage to its slow pace and went ahead several miles on +foot. The first rain of the season had fallen, and the road was moist, +and all the spicy herbs of Italy perceptible in the air. Half way up +the mountain, I overtook a fat, bald, middle-aged priest, slowly +toiling up on his mule. I was passing him with a "_buon giorno_," when +he begged me for my own sake, as well as his, to keep him company. "It +was the worst road for thieves," he said, "in all Italy," and he +pointed at every short distance to little crosses erected at the +road-side, to commemorate the finding of murdered men on the spot. +After he had told me several stories of the kind, he elevated his +tone, and began to talk of other matters. I think I never heard so +loud and long a laugh as his. I ventured to express a wonder at his +finding himself so happy in a life of celibacy. He looked at me slily +a moment or two as if he were hesitating whether to trust me with his +opinions on the subject; but he suddenly seemed to remember his +caution, and pointing off to the right, showed me a lake brought into +view by the last turn of the road. It was _Lake Vico_. From the midst +of it rose a round mountain covered to the top with luxuriant +chestnuts--the lake forming a sort of trench about it, with the hill +on which we stood rising directly from the other edge. It was one +faultless mirror of green leaves. The two hill sides shadowed it +completely. All the views from Monte-Cimino were among the richest in +mere nature that I ever saw, and reminded me strongly of the country +about the Seneca lake of America. I was on the Cayuga at about the +same season three summers ago, and I could have believed myself back +again, it was so like my recollection. + +We stopped on the fourth night of our journey, seventeen miles from +Rome, at a place called Baccano. A ridge of hills rose just before us, +from the top of which we were told, we could see St. Peter's. The sun +was just dipping under the horizon, and the ascent was three miles. We +threw off our cloaks, determining to see Rome before we slept, ran +unbreathed to the top of the hill, an effort which so nearly exhausted +us, that we could scarce stand long enough upon our feet to search +over the broad campagna for the dome. + +The sunset had lingered a great while--as it does in Italy. Four or +five light feathery streaks of cloud glowed with intense crimson in +the west, and on the brow of Mount Soracte, (which I recognised +instantly from the graphic simile[2] of Childe Harold), and along on +all the ridges of mountain in the east, still played a kind of +vanishing reflection, half purple, half gray. With a moment's glance +around to catch the outline of the landscape, I felt instinctively +where Rome _should_ stand, and my eye fell at once upon "the mighty +dome." Jupiter had by this time appeared, and hung right over it, +trembling in the sky with its peculiar glory, like a lump of molten +spar, and as the color faded from the clouds, and the dark mass of +"the eternal city" itself mingled and was lost in the shadows of the +campagna, the dome still seemed to catch light, and tower visibly, as +if the radiance of the glowing star above fell more directly upon it. +We could see it till we could scarcely distinguish each other's +features. The dead level of the campagna extended between and beyond +for twenty miles, and it looked like a far-off beacon in a dim sea. +We sat an hour on the summit of the hill, gazing into the increasing +darkness, till our eyes ached. The stars brightened one by one, the +mountains grew indistinct, and we rose unwillingly to retrace our +steps to Baccano. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] I remember hearing a friend receive a severe reproof from one of +the most enlightened men in our country, for offering his daughter an +annual, upon the cover of which was an engraving of these same +"Graces." + +[2] + ----"A long swept wave about to break, + And on the curl hangs pausing." + + + + +LETTER XLII. + + FIRST DAY IN ROME--SAINT PETER'S--A SOLITARY MONK--STRANGE + MUSIC--MICHAEL ANGELO'S MASTERPIECE--THE MUSEUM--LIKENESS OF + YOUNG AUGUSTUS--APOLLO BELVIDERE--THE MEDICEAN + VENUS--RAPHAEL'S TRANSFIGURATION--THE PANTHEON--THE + BURIAL-PLACE OF CARRACCI AND RAPHAEL--ROMAN FORUM--TEMPLE OF + FORTUNE--THE ROSTRUM--PALACE OF THE CESARS--THE RUINS--THE + COLISEUM, ETC. + + +To be rid of the dust of travel, and abroad in a strange and renowned +city, is a sensation of no slight pleasure anywhere. To step into the +street under these circumstances and inquire for the _Roman Forum_, +was a sufficient advance upon the ordinary feeling to mark a bright +day in one's calendar. I was hurrying up the Corso with this object +before me a half hour after my arrival in Rome, when an old friend +arrested my steps, and begging me to reserve the "Ruins" for +moonlight, took me off to St. Peter's. + +The façade of the church appears alone, as you walk up the street from +the castle of St. Angelo. It disappointed me. There is no portico, +and it looks flat and bare. But approaching nearer, I stood at the +base of the obelisk, and with those two magnificent fountains sending +their musical waters, as if to the sky, and the two encircling wings +of the church embracing the immense area with its triple colonnades, I +felt the grandeur of St. Peter's. I felt it again in the gigantic and +richly-wrought porches, and again with indescribable surprise and +admiration at the first step on the pavement of the interior. There +was not a figure on its immense floor from the door to the altar, and +its far-off roof, its mighty pillars, its gold and marbles in such +profusion that the eye shrinks from the examination, made their +overpowering impression uninterrupted. You feel that it must be a +glorious creature that could build such a temple to his Maker. + +An organ was playing brokenly in one of the distant chapels, and, +drawing insensibly to the music, we found the door half open, and a +monk alone, running his fingers over the keys, and stopping sometimes +as if to muse, till the echo died and the silence seemed to startle +him anew. It was strange music; very irregular, but sweet, and in a +less excited moment, I could have sat and listened to it till the sun +set. + +I strayed down the aisle, and stood before the "Dead Christ" of +Michael Angelo. The Saviour lies in the arms of Mary. The limbs hang +lifelessly down, and, exquisitely beautiful as they are, express death +with a wonderful power. It is the best work of the artist, I think, +and the only one I was ever _moved_ in looking at. + +The greatest statue and the first picture in the world are under the +same roof, and we mounted to the Vatican. The museum is a wilderness +of statuary. Old Romans, men and women, stand about you, copied, as +you feel when you look on them, from the life; and conceptions of +beauty in children, nymphs, and heroes, from minds that conceived +beauty in a degree that has never been transcended, confuse and +bewilder you with their number and wonderful workmanship. It is like +seeing a vision of past ages. It is calling up from Athens and old +classic Rome, all that was distinguished and admired of the most +polished ages of the world. On the right of the long gallery, as you +enter, stands the bust of the "Young Augustus"--a kind of beautiful, +angelic likeness of Napoleon, as Napoleon might have been in his +youth. It is a boy, but with a serene dignity about the forehead and +lips, that makes him visibly a boy-emperor--born for his throne, and +conscious of his right to it. There is nothing in marble more perfect, +and I never saw anything which made me realize that the Romans of +history and poetry were _men_--nothing which brought them so +familiarly to my mind, as the feeling for beauty shown in this +infantine bust. I would rather have it than all the gods and heroes of +the Vatican. + +No cast gives you any idea worth having of the Apollo Belvidere. It is +a god-like model of a man. The lightness and the elegance of the +limbs; the free, fiery, confident energy of the attitude; the +breathing, indignant nostril and lips; the whole statue's mingled and +equal grace and power, are, with all its truth to nature, beyond any +conception I had formed of manly beauty. It spoils one's eye for +common men to look at it. It stands there like a descended angel, with +a splendor of form and an air of power, that makes one feel what he +should have been, and mortifies him for what he is. Most women whom I +have met in Europe, adore the Apollo as far the finest statue in the +world, and most _men_ say as much of the Medicean Venus. But, to my +eye, the Venus, lovely as she is, compares with the Apollo as a +mortal with an angel of light. The latter is incomparably the finest +statue. If it were only for its face, it would transcend the other +infinitely. The beauty of the Venus is only in the limbs and body. It +is a faultless, and withal, modest representation of the flesh and +blood beauty of a woman. The Apollo is all this, and has a _soul_. I +have seen women that approached the Venus in form, and had finer +faces--I never saw a man that was a shadow of the Apollo in either. It +stands as it should, in a room by itself, and is thronged at all hours +by female worshippers. They never tire of gazing at it; and I should +believe, from the open-mouthed wonder of those whom I met at its +pedestal, that the story of the girl who pined and died for love of +it, was neither improbable nor singular. + +Raphael's "Transfiguration" is agreed to be the finest picture in the +world. I had made up my mind to the same opinion from the engravings +of it, but was painfully disappointed in the picture. I looked at it +from every corner of the room, and asked the _custode_ three times if +he was sure this was the original. The color offended my eye, blind as +Raphael's name should make it, and I left the room with a sigh, and an +unsettled faith in my own taste, that made me seriously unhappy. My +complacency was restored a few hours after on hearing that the wonder +was entirely in the drawing--the colors having quite changed with +time. I bought the engraving immediately, which you have seen too +often, of course, to need my commentary. The aerial lightness with +which he has hung the figures of the Saviour and the apostles in the +air, is a triumph of the pencil over the laws of nature, that seem to +have required the power of the miracle itself. + +I lost myself in coming home, and following a priest's direction to +the Corso, came unexpectedly upon the "Pantheon," which I recognised +at once. This wonder of architecture has no questionable beauty. A +dunce would not need to be told that it was perfect. Its Corinthian +columns fall on the eye with that sense of fulness that seems to +answer an instinct of beauty in the very organ. One feels a fault or +an excellence in architecture long before he can give the feeling a +name; and I can see why, by Childe Harold and others, this heathen +temple is called "the pride of Rome," though I cannot venture on a +description. The faultless interior is now used as a church, and there +lie Annibal Carracci and the divine Raphael--two names worthy of the +place, and the last, of a shrine in every bosom capable of a +conception of beauty. Glorious Raphael! If there was no other relic in +Rome, one would willingly become a pilgrim to his ashes. + +With my countryman and friend, Mr. Cleveland, I stood in the Roman +forum by the light of a clear half moon. The soft silver rays poured +in through the ruined columns of the Temple of Fortune and threw our +shadows upon the bases of the tall shafts near the capitol, the +remains, I believe, of the temple erected by Augustus to Jupiter +Tonans. Impressive things they are, even without their name, standing +tall and alone, with their broken capitals wreathed with ivy, and +neither roof nor wall to support them, where they were placed by hands +that have mouldered for centuries. It is difficult to rally one's +senses in such a place, and be awake coldly to the scene. We stood, as +we supposed, in the Rostrum. The noble arch, still almost perfect, +erected by the senate to Septimius Severus, stood up clear and lofty +beside us, the three matchless and lonely columns of the supposed +temple of Jupiter Stator threw their shadows across the Forum below, +the great arch, built at the conquest of Jerusalem to Titus, was +visible in the distance, and above them all, on the gentle ascent of +the Palatine, stood the ruined palace of the Cesars, the sharp edges +of the demolished walls breaking up through vines and ivy, and the +mellow moon of Italy softening rock and foliage into one silver-edged +mass of shadow. It seems as if the very genius of the picturesque had +arranged these immortal ruins. If the heaps of fresh excavation were +but overgrown with grass, no poet nor painter could better image out +the Rome of his dream. It surpasses fancy. + +We walked on, over fragments of marble columns turned up from the +mould, and leaving the majestic arches of the Temple of Peace on our +left, passed under the arch of Titus (so dreaded by the Jews), to the +Coliseum. This too is magnificently ruined--broken in every part, and +yet showing still the brave skeleton of what it was--its gigantic and +triple walls, half encircling the silent area, and its rocky seats +lifting one above the other amid weeds and ivy, and darkening the dens +beneath, whence issued the gladiators, beasts, and Christian martyrs, +to be sacrificed for the amusement of Rome. A sentinel paced at the +gigantic archway, a capuchin monk, whose duty is to attend the small +chapels built around the arena, walked up and down in his russet cowl +and sandals, the moon broke through the clefts in the wall, and the +whole place was buried in the silence of a wilderness. I have given +you the features of the scene--I leave you to people it with your own +thoughts. I dare not trust mine to a colder medium than poetry. + + + + +LETTER XLIII. + + TIVOLI--RUINS OF THE BATHS OF DIOCLETIAN--FALLS OF + TIVOLI--CASCATELLI--SUBJECT OF ONE OF COLE'S LANDSCAPES--RUINS + OF THE VILLAGE OF MECÆNAS--RUINED VILLA OF ADRIAN--THE + FORUM--TEMPLE OF VESTA--THE CLOACA MAXIMA--THE RIVER JUTURNA, + ETC. + + +I have spent a day at Tivoli with Messrs. Auchmuty and Bissell, of our +navy, and one or two others, forming quite an American party. We +passed the ruins of the baths of Diocletian, with a heavy cloud over +our heads; but we were scarce through the gate, when the sun broke +through, the rain swept off over Soracte, and the sky was clear till +sunset. + +I have seen many finer falls than Tivoli; that is, more water, and +falling farther; but I do not think there is so pretty a place in the +world. A very dirty village, a dirtier hotel, and a cicerone all rags +and ruffianism, are somewhat dampers to anticipation. We passed +through a broken gate, and with a step, were in a glen of fairy-land; +the lightest and loveliest of antique temples on a crag above, a snowy +waterfall of some hundred and fifty feet below, grottoes mossed to the +mouth at the river's outlet, and all up and down the cleft valley +vines twisted in the crevices of rock, and shrubbery hanging on every +ledge, with a felicity of taste or nature, or both, that is uncommon +even in Italy. The fall itself comes rushing down through a grotto to +the face of the precipice, over which it leaps, and looks like a +subterranean river just coming to light. Its bed is rough above, and +it bursts forth from its cavern in dazzling foam, and falls in one +sparry sheet to the gulf. The falls of Montmorenci are not unlike it. + +We descended to the bottom, and from the little terrace, wet by the +spray, and dark with overhanging rocks, looked up the "cavern of +Neptune," a deep passage, through which the divided river rushes to +meet the fall in the gulf. Then remounting to the top, we took mules +to make the three miles' circuit of the glen, and see what are called +the _Cascatelli_. + +No fairy-work could exceed the beauty of the little antique Sybil's +temple perched on the top of the crag above the fall. As we rode round +the other edge of the glen, it stood opposite us in all the beauty of +its light and airy architecture; a thing that might be borne, "like +Loretto's chapel, through the air," and seem no miracle. + +A mile farther on I began to recognize the features of the scene, at a +most lovely point of view. It was the subject of one of Cole's +landscapes, which I had seen in Florence; and I need not say to any +one who knows the works of this admirable artist, that it was done +with truth and taste.[3] The little town of Tivoli hangs on a jutting +lap of a mountain, on the side of the ravine opposite to your point of +view. From beneath its walls, as if its foundations were laid upon a +river's fountains, bursts foaming water in some thirty different +falls; and it seems to you as if the long declivities were that moment +for the first time overflowed, for the currents go dashing under +trees, and overleaping vines and shrubs, appearing and disappearing +continually, till they all meet in the quiet bed of the river below. +"_It was made by Bernini_," said the guide, as we stood gazing at it; +and, odd as this information sounded, while wondering at a spectacle +worthy of the happiest accident of nature, it will explain the +phenomena of the place to you--the artist having turned a mountain +river from its course, and leading it under the town of Tivoli, threw +it over the sides of the precipitous hill upon which it stands. One of +the streams appears from beneath the ruins of the "Villa of Mecænas," +which topples over a precipice just below the town, looking over the +campagna toward Rome--a situation worthy of the patron of the poets. +We rode through the immense subterranean arches, which formed its +court, in ascending the mountain again to the town. + +Near Tivoli is the ruined villa of Adrian, where was found the Venus +de Medicis, and some other of the wonders of antique art. The sun had +set, however, and the long campagna of twenty miles lay between us and +Rome. We were compelled to leave it unseen. We entered the gates at +nine o'clock, _unrobbed_--rather an unusual good fortune, we were +told, for travellers after dark on that lonely waste. Perhaps our +number deprived us of the romance. + +I left a crowded ball-room at midnight, wearied with a day at Tivoli, +and oppressed with an atmosphere breathed by two hundred, dancing and +card-playing, Romans and foreigners; and with a step from the portico +of the noble palace of our host, came into a broad beam of moonlight, +that with the stillness and coolness of the night refreshed me at +once, and banished all disposition for sleep. A friend was with me, +and I proposed a ramble among the ruins. + +The sentinel challenged us as we entered the Forum. The frequent +robberies of romantic strangers in this lonely place have made a guard +necessary, and they are now stationed from the Arch of Severus to the +Coliseum. We passed an hour rambling among the ruins of the temples. +Not a footstep was to be heard, nor a sound even from the near city; +and the tall columns, with their broken friezes and capitals, and the +grand imperishable arches, stood up in the bright light of the moon, +looking indeed like monuments of Rome. I am told they are less +majestic by daylight. The rubbish and fresh earth injure the effect. +But I have as yet seen them in the garb of moonlight only, and I shall +carry this impression away. It is to me, now, all that my fancy hoped +to find it--its temples and columns just enough in ruin to be +affecting and beautiful. + +We went thence to the Temple of Vesta. It is shut up in the modern +streets, ten or fifteen minutes walk from the Forum. The picture of +this perfect temple, and the beautiful purpose of its consecration, +have been always prominent in my imaginary Rome. It is worthy of its +association--an exquisite round temple, with its simple circle of +columns from the base to the roof, a faultless thing in proportion, +and as light and floating to the eye as if the wind might lift it. It +was no common place to stand beside, and recall the poetical truth +and fiction of which it has been the scene--the vestal lamp cherished +or neglected by its high-born votaries, their honors if pure, and +their dreadful death if faithless. It needed not the heavenly +moonlight that broke across its columns to make it a very shrine of +fancy. + +My companion proposed a visit next to the Cloaca Maxima. A _common +sewer_, after the Temple of Vesta, sounds like an abrupt transition; +but the arches beneath which we descended were touched by moonlight, +and the vines and ivy crossed our path, and instead of a drain of +filth, which the fame of its imperial builder would scarce have +sweetened, a rapid stream leaped to the right, and disappeared again +beneath the solid masonry, more like a wild brook plunging into a +grotto than the thing one expects to find it. The clear little river +_Juturna_ (on the banks of which Castor and Pollux watered their +foaming horses, when bringing the news of victory to Rome), dashes now +through the Cloaca Maxima; and a fresher or purer spot, or waters with +a more musical murmur, it has not been my fortune to see. We stopped +over a broken column for a drink, and went home, refreshed, to bed. + + +FOOTNOTE: + +[3] On my way to Rome (near Radicofani, I think), we passed an old +man, whose picturesque figure, enveloped in his brown cloak and +slouched hat, arrested the attention of all my companions. I had seen +him before. From a five minutes' sketch in passing, Mr. Cole had made +one of the most spirited heads I ever saw, admirably like, and worthy +of Caravaggio for force and expression. + + + + +LETTER XLIV. + + MASS IN THE SISTINE CHAPEL--THE CARDINALS--THE "LAST + JUDGMENT"--THE POPE OF ROME--THE "ADAM AND EVE" CHANTING OF + THE PRIESTS--FESTA AT THE CHURCH OF SAN CARLOS--GREGORY THE + SIXTEENTH, HIS EQUIPAGE, TRAIN, ETC. + + +All the world goes to hear "mass in the Sistine chapel," and all +travellers describe it. It occurs infrequently and is performed by the +Pope. We were there to-day at ten, crowding at the door with hundreds +of foreigners, mostly English, elbowed alternately by priests and +ladies, and kept in order by the Swiss guards in their harlequin +dresses and long pikes. We were admitted after an hour's pushing, and +the guard retreated to the grated door, through which no woman is +permitted to pass. Their gay bonnets and feathers clustered behind the +gilded bars, and we could admire them for once without the qualifying +reflection that they were between us and the show. An hour more was +occupied in the entrance, one by one, of some forty cardinals with +their rustling silk trains supported by boys in purple. They passed +the gate, their train bearers lifted their cassocks and helped them to +kneel, a moment's prayer was mumbled, and they took their seats with +the same servile assistance. Their attendants placed themselves at +their feet, and, taking the prayer-books, the only use of which +appeared to be to display their jewelled fingers, they looked over +them at the faces behind the grating, and waited for his Holiness. + +The intervals of this memory, gave us time to study the famous +_frescoes_ for which the Sistine chapel is renowned. The subject is +the "Last Judgment." The Saviour sits in the midst, pronouncing the +sentence, the wicked plunging from his presence on the left hand, and +the righteous ascending with the assistance of angels on the right. +The artist had, of course, infinite scope for expression, and the fame +of the fresco (which occupies the whole of the wall behind the altar) +would seem to argue his success. The light is miserable, however, and +incense or lamp-smoke, has obscured the colors, and one looks at it +now with little pleasure. As well as I could see, the figure of the +Saviour was more that of a tiler throwing down slates from the top of +a house in some fear of falling, than the Judge of the world upon his +throne. Some of the other parts are better, and one or two naked +females figures might once have been beautiful, but one of the +succeeding popes ordered them dressed, and they now flaunt at the +judgment-seat in colored silks, obscuring both saints and sinners with +their finery. There are some redeeming frescoes, also by Michael +Angelo, on the ceiling, among them "Adam and Eve," exquisitely done. + +The Pope entered by a door at the side of the altar. With him came a +host of dignitaries and church servants, and, as he tottered round in +front of the altar, to kneel, his cap was taken off and put on, his +flowing robes lifted and spread, and he was treated in all respects, +as if he were the Deity himself. In fact, the whole service was the +worship, not of God, but of the Pope. The cardinals came up, one by +one, with their heads bowed, and knelt reverently to kiss his hand and +the hem of his white satin dress; his throne was higher than the +altar, and ten times as gorgeous; the incense was flung toward him, +and his motions from one side of the chapel to the other, were +attended with more ceremony and devotion than all the rest of the +service together. The chanting commenced with his entrance, and this +should have been to God alone, for it was like music from heaven. The +choir was composed of priests, who sang from massive volumes bound in +golden clasps, in a small side gallery. One stood by the book, turning +the leaves as the chant proceeded, and keeping the measure, and the +others clustered around with their hands clasped, their heads thrown +back, and their eyes closed or fixed upon the turning leaves in such +grouping and attitude as you see in pictures of angels singing in the +clouds. I have heard wonderful music since I have been on the +continent, and have received new ideas of the compass of the human +voice, and its capacities for pathos and sweetness. But, after all the +wonders of the opera, as it is learned to sing before kings and +courts, the chanting of these priests transcended every conception in +my mind of music. It was the human voice, cleared of all earthliness, +and gushing through its organs with uncontrollable feeling and nature. +The burden of the various parts returned continually upon one or two +simple notes, the deepest and sweetest in the octave for melody, and +occasionally a single voice outran the choir in a passionate +repetition of the air, which seemed less like musical contrivance, +than an abandonment of soul and voice to a preternatural impulse of +devotion. One writes nonsense in describing such things, but there is +no other way of conveying an idea of them. The subject is beyond the +wildest superlatives. + +To-day we have again seen the Pope. It was a festa, and the church of +San Carlos was the scene of the ceremonies. His Holiness came in the +state-coach with six long-tailed black horses, and all his cardinals +in their red and gold carriages in his train. The gaudy procession +swept up to the steps, and the father of the church was taken upon the +shoulders of his bearers in a chair of gold and crimson, and solemnly +borne up the aisle, and deposited within the railings of the altar, +where homage was done to him by the cardinals as before, and the +half-supernatural music of his choir awaited his motions. The church +was half filled with soldiers armed to the teeth, and drawn up on +either side, and his body-guard of Roman nobles, stood even within the +railing of the altar, capped and motionless, conveying, as everything +else does, the irresistible impression that it was the worship of the +Pope, not of God. + +Gregory the sixteenth, is a small old man, with a large heavy nose, +eyes buried in sluggish wrinkles, and a flushed, apoplectic +complexion. He sits, or is borne about with his eyes shut, looking +quite asleep, even his limbs hanging lifelessly. The gorgeous and +heavy papal costumes only render him more insignificant, and when he +is borne about, buried in his deep chair, or lost in the corner of his +huge black and gold pagoda of a carriage, it is difficult to look at +him without a smile. Among his cardinals, however, there are +magnificent heads, boldly marked, noble and scholarlike, and I may +say, perhaps, that there is no one of them, who had not nature's mark +upon him of superiority. They are a dignified and impressive body of +men, and their servile homage to the Pope, seems unnatural and +disgusting. + + + + +LETTER XLV. + + ROME--A MORNING IN THE STUDIO OF THORWALDSEN--COLOSSAL STATUE + OF THE SAVIOUR--STATUE OF BYRON--GIBSON'S ROOMS--CUPID AND + PSYCHE--HYLAS WITH THE RIVER NYMPHS--PALAZZO SPADA--STATUE OF + POMPEY--BORGHESE PALACE--PORTRAIT OF CESAR BORGIA--DOSSI'S + PSYCHE--SACRED AND PROFANE LOVE--ROOM DEVOTED TO VENUSES--THE + SOCIETY OF ROME, ETC. + + +I have spent a morning in the studio of _Thorwaldsen_. He is probably +the greatest sculptor now living. A colossal statue of Christ, thought +by many to be his masterpiece, is the prominent object as you enter. +It is a noble conception--the mild majesty of a Saviour expressed in a +face of the most dignified human beauty. Perhaps his full-length +statue of Byron is inferior to some of his other works, but it +interested me, and I spent most of my time in looking at it. It was +taken from life; and my friend, Mr. Auchmuty, who was with me, and who +had seen Byron frequently on board one of our ships-of-war at Leghorn, +thought it the only faithful likeness he had ever seen. The poet is +dressed oddly enough, in a morning frock coat, cravat, pantaloons, and +shoes; and, unpromising as these materials would seem, the statue is +classic and elegant to a very high degree. His coat is held by the +two centre buttons in front (a more exquisite cut never came from the +hands of a London tailor), swelled out a little above and below by the +fleshy roundness of his figure; his cravat is tied loosely, leaving +his throat bare (which, by the way, both in the statue and the +original, was very beautifully chiselled); and he sits upon a fragment +of a column, with a book in one hand and a pencil in the other. A man +reading a pleasant poem among the ruins of Rome, and looking up to +reflect upon a fine passage before marking it, would assume the +attitude and expression exactly. The face has half a smile upon it, +and, differing from the Apollo faces usually drawn for Byron, is +finer, and more expressive of his character than any I ever met with. +Thorwaldsen is a Dane, and is beloved by every one for his simplicity +and modesty. I did not see him. + +We were afterward at _Gibson's_ rooms. This gentleman is an English +artist, apparently about thirty, and full of genius. He has taken some +portraits which are esteemed admirable; but his principal labor has +been thrown upon the most beautiful fables of antiquity. His various +groups and bas-reliefs of Cupid and Psyche are worthy of the beauty of +the story. His _chef d'oeuvre_, I think, is a group of three +figures, representing the boy, "Hylas with the river nymphs." He +stands between them with the pitcher in his hand, startled with their +touch, and listening to their persuasions. The smaller of the two +female figures is an almost matchless conception of loveliness. Gibson +went round with us kindly, and I was delighted with his modesty of +manner, and the apparently completely poetical character of his mind. +He has a noble head, a lofty forehead well marked, and a mouth of +finely mingled strength and mildness. + +We devoted this morning to _palaces_. At the _Palazzo Spada_ we saw +the statue of Pompey, at the base of which Cesar fell. Antiquaries +dispute its authenticity, but the evidence is quite strong enough for +a poetical belief; and if it were not, one's time is not lost, for the +statue is a majestic thing, and well worth the long walk necessary to +see it. The mutilated arm, and the hole in the wall behind, remind one +of the ludicrous fantasy of the French, who carried it to the Forum to +enact "Brutus" at its base. + +The _Borghese Palace_ is rich in pictures. The portrait of _Cesar +Borgia_, by Titian, is one of the most striking. It represents that +accomplished villain with rather slight features, and, barring a look +of cool determination about his well-formed lips, with rather a +prepossessing countenance. One detects in it the capabilities of such +a character as his, after the original is mentioned; but otherwise he +might pass for a handsome gallant, of no more dangerous trait than a +fiery temper. Just beyond it is a very strong contrast in a figure of +_Psyche_, by Dossi, of Ferrara. She is coming on tiptoe, with the +lamp, to see her lover. The Cupid asleep is not so well done; but for +an image of a real woman, unexaggerated and lovely, I have seen +nothing which pleases me better than this Psyche. Opposite it hangs a +very celebrated Titian, representing "Sacred and Profane Love." Two +female figures are sitting by a well--one quite nude, with her hair +about her shoulders, and the other dressed, and coiffed _a la mode_, +but looking less modest to my eye than her undraped sister. It is +little wonder, however, that a man who could paint his own daughter in +the embraces of a satyr (a revolting picture, which I saw in the +Barberigo palace at Venice) should fail in drawing the face of +Virtue. The coloring of the picture is exquisite, but the design is +certainly a failure. + +The last room in the palace is devoted to Venuses--all very naked and +very bad. There might be forty, I think, and not a limb among them +that one's eye would rest upon with the least pleasure for a single +moment. + +The society of Rome is of course changing continually. At this +particular season, strangers from every part of the continent are +beginning to arrive, and it promises to be pleasant. I have been at +most of the parties during the fortnight that I have been here, but +find them thronged with priests, and with only the resident society +which is dull. Cards and conversation with people one never saw +before, and will certainly never see again, are heavy pastimes. I +start for Florence to-morrow, and shall return to Rome for Holy Week, +and the spring months. + + + + +LETTER XLVI. + + ITALIAN AND AMERICAN SKIES--FALLS OF TERNI--THE CLITUMNUS--THE + TEMPLE--EFFECTS OF AN EARTHQUAKE AT FOLIGNO--LAKE + THRASIMENE--JOURNEY FROM ROME--FLORENCE--FLORENTINE + SCENERY--PRINCE PONIATOWSKI--JEROME BONAPARTE AND FAMILY--WANT + OF A MINISTER IN ITALY. + + +I left Rome by the magnificent "Porta del Popolo," as the flush of a +pearly and spotless Italian sunrise deepened over Soracte. They are so +splendid without clouds--these skies of Italy! so deep to the eye, so +radiantly clear! _Clouds_ make the glory of an American sky. The +"Indian summer" sunsets excepted, our sun goes down in New England, +with the extravagance of a theatrical scene. The clouds are massed and +heavy, like piles of gold and fire, and day after day, if you observe +them, you are literally astonished with the brilliant phenomena of the +west. Here, for seven months, we have had no rain. The sun has risen +faultlessly clear, with the same gray, and silver, and rose tints +succeeding each other as regularly as the colors in a turning prism, +and it has set as constantly in orange, gold, and purple, with scarce +the variation of a painter's pallet, from one day to another. It is +really most delightful to live under such heavens as these; to be +depressed never by a gloomy sky, nor ill from a chance exposure to a +chill wind, nor out of humor because the rain or damp keeps you a +prisoner at home. You feel the delicious climate in a thousand ways. +It is a positive blessing, and were worth more than a fortune, if it +were bought and sold. I would rather be poor in Italy, than rich in +any other country in the world. + +We ascended the mountain that shuts in the campagna on the north, and +turned, while the horses breathed, to take a last look at Rome. My two +friends, the lieutenants, and myself, occupied the interior of the +vetturino, in company with a young Roman woman, who was making her +first journey from home. She was going to see her husband. I pointed +out of the window to the distant dome of St. Peter's, rising above the +thin smoke hung over the city, and she looked at it with the tears +streaming from her large black eyes in torrents. She might have cried +because she was going to her husband, but I could not divest myself of +the fact that she was a Roman, and leaving a home that _could_ be very +romantically wept for. She was a fine specimen of this finest of the +races of woman--amply proportioned without grossness, and with that +certain presence or dignity that rises above manners and rank, common +to them all. + +We saw beautiful scenery at Narni. The town stands on the edge of a +precipice, and the valley, a hundred feet or two below, is coursed by +a wild stream, that goes foaming along its bed in a long line of froth +for miles away. We dined here, and drove afterward to Terni, where the +voiturier stopped for the night, to give us an opportunity to see the +_Falls_. + +We drove to the mountain base, three miles, in an old post barouche, +and made the ascent on foot. A line of precipices extends along from +the summit, and from the third or fourth of these leaps the Velino, +clear into the valley. We saw it in front as we went on, and then +followed the road round, till we reached the bed of the river behind. +The fountain of Egeria is not more secludedly beautiful than its +current above the fall. Trees overhang and meet, and flowers spring in +wonderful variety on its banks, and the ripple against the roots is +heard amid the roar of the cataract, like a sweet, clear voice in a +chorus. It is a place in which you half expect to startle a fawn, it +looks so unvisited and wild. We wound out through the shrubbery, and +gained a projecting point, from which we could see the sheet of the +cascade. It is "horribly beautiful" to be sure. Childe Harold's +description of it is as true as a drawing. + +I should think the quantity of water at Niagara would make five +hundred such falls as those of Terni, without exaggeration. It is a +"hell of waters," however, notwithstanding, and leaps over with a +current all turned into foam by the roughness of its bed above--a +circumstance that gives the sheet more richness of surface. Two or +three lovely little streams steal off on either side of the fall, as +if they shrunk from the leap, and drop down, from rock to rock, till +they are lost in the rising mist. + +The sun set over the little town of Terni, while we stood silently +looking down into the gulf, and the wet spray reminded us that the +most romantic people may take cold. We descended to our carriage; and +in an hour were sitting around the blazing fire at the post-house, +with a motley group of Germans, Swiss, French, and Italians--a mixture +of company universal in the public room of an Italian albergo, at +night. The coming and going vetturini stop at the same houses +throughout, and the concourse is always amusing. We sat till the fire +burned low, and then wishing our chance friends a happy night, had the +"priests"[4] taken from our beds, and were soon lost to everything but +sleep. + +Terni was the Italian Tempe, and its beautiful scenery was shown to +Cicero, whose excursion hither is recorded. It is part of a long, deep +valley, between abrupt ranges of mountains, and abounds in loveliness. + +We went to Spoleto, the next morning, to breakfast. It is a very old +town, oddly built, and one of its gates still remains, at which +Hannibal was repulsed after his victory at Thrasimene. It bears his +name in time-worn letters. + +At the distance of one post from Spoleto we came to the _Clitumnus_, a +small stream, still, deep, and glassy--the clearest water I ever saw. +It looks almost like air. On its bank, facing away from the road, +stands the temple, "of small and delicate proportions," mentioned so +exquisitely by Childe Harold. + +The temple of the Clitumnus might stand in a drawing-room. The stream +is a mere brook, and this little marble gem, whose richly fretted +columns were raised to its honor with a feeling of beauty that makes +one thrill, seems exactly of relative proportions. It is a thing of +pure poetry; and to find an antiquity of such perfect preservation, +with the small clear stream running still at the base of its _façade_, +just as it did when Cicero and his contemporaries passed it on their +visits to a country called after the loveliest vale of Greece for its +beauty, was a gratification of the highest demand of taste. Childe +Harold's lesson, + + "Pass not unblest the genius of the place" + +was scarce necessary.[5] + +We slept at _Foligno_. For many miles we had observed that the houses +were propped in every direction, many of them in ruins apparently +recent, and small wooden sheds erected in the midst of the squares, or +beside the roads, and crowded with the poor. The next morning we +arrived at St. Angelo, and found its gigantic cathedral a heap of +ruins. Its painted chapels, to the number of fifteen or sixteen, were +half standing in the shattered walls, the altars all exposed, and the +interior of the dome one mass of stone and rubbish. It was the first +time I had seen the effects of an _earthquake_. For eight or ten miles +further, we found every house cracked and deserted, and the people +living like the settlers in a new country, half in the open air. The +beggars were innumerable. + +We stopped the next night on the shores of lake Thrasimene. For once +in my life, I felt that the time spent at school on the "dull drilled +lesson," had not been wasted. I was on the battle ground of +Hannibal--the "_locus aptus insidiis_" where the consul Flaminius was +snared and beaten by the wily Carthaginian on his march to Rome. I +longed for my old copy of Livy "much thumbed," that I might sit on +the hill and compare the image in my mind, made by his pithy and +sententious description, with the reality. + +The battle ground, the scene of the principal slaughter, was beyond +the _albergo_, and the increasing darkness compelled us to defer a +visit to it till the next morning. Meantime the lake was beautiful. We +were on the eastern side, and the deep-red sky of a departed sunset +over the other shore, was reflected glowingly on the water. All around +was dark, but the light in the sky and lake seemed to have forgotten +to follow. It is a phenomenon peculiar to Italy. The heavens seem +"dyed" and steeped in the glory of the sunset. + +We drank our host's best bottle of wine, the grape plucked from the +battle ground; and if it was not better for the Roman blood that had +manured its ancestor, it was better for some other reason. + +Early the next morning we were on our way, and wound down into the +narrow pass between the lake and the hill, as the sun rose. We crossed +the _Sanguinetto_, a little stream which took its name from the +battle. The principal slaughter was just on its banks, and the hills +are so steep above it, that everybody who fell near must have rolled +into its bed. It crawls on very quietly across the road, its clear +stream scarce interrupted by the wheels of the vetturino, which in +crossing it, passes from the Roman states into Tuscany. I ran a little +up the stream, knelt and drank at a small gurgling fall. The blood of +the old Flaminian Cohort spoiled very delicious water, when it mingled +with that brook. + +We were six days and a half accomplishing the hundred and eighty miles +from Rome to Florence--slow travelling--but not too slow in Italy, +where every stone has its story, and every ascent of a hill its twenty +matchless pictures, sprinkled with ruins, as a painter's eye could not +imagine them. We looked down on the Eden-like valley of the Arno at +sunrise, and again my heart leaped to see the tall dome of Florence, +and the hills all about the queenly city, sparkling with palaces and +bright in a sun that shines nowhere so kindly. If there is a spot in +the world that could wean one from his native home, it is Florence! +"Florence the fair," they call her! I have passed four of the seven +months I have been in Italy, here--and I think I shall pass here as +great a proportion of the rest of my life. There is nothing that can +contribute to comfort and pleasure, that is not within the reach of +the smallest means in Florence. I never saw a place where wealth made +less distinction. The choicest galleries of art in the world, are open +to all comers. The palace of the monarch may be entered and visited, +and enjoyed by all. The ducal gardens of the Boboli, rich in +everything that can refine nature, and commanding views that no land +can equal, cooled by fountains, haunted in every grove by statuary, +are the property of the stranger and the citizen alike. Museums, +laboratories, libraries, grounds, palaces, are all free as Utopia. You +may take any pleasure that others can command, and have any means of +instruction, as free as the common air. Where else would one live so +pleasantly--so profitably--so wisely. + +The society of Florence is of a very fascinating description. The +Florentine nobles have a _casino_, or club-house, to which most of the +respectable strangers are invited, and balls are given there once a +week, frequently by the duke and his court, and the best society of +the place. I attended one on my first arrival from Rome, at which I +saw a proportion of beauty which astonished me. The female +descendants of the great names in Italian history, seem to me to have +almost without exception the mark of noble beauty by nature. The +loveliest woman in Florence is a _Medici_. The two daughters of +_Capponi_, the patriot and the descendant of patriots, are of the +finest order of beauty. I could instance many others, the mention of +whose names, when I have first seen them, has made my blood start. I +think if Italy is ever to be redeemed, she must owe it to her +daughters. The men, the brothers of these women, with very rare +exceptions, look like the slaves they are, from one end of Italy to +the other. + +One of the most hospitable houses here, is that of Prince Poniatowski, +the brother of the hero of Poland. He has a large family, and his +_soirées_ are thronged with all that is fair and distinguished. He is +a venerable, grayheaded old man, of perhaps seventy, very fond of +speaking English, of which rare acquisition abroad he seems a little +vain. He gave me the heartiest welcome as an American, and said he +loved the nation. + +I had the honor of dining, a day or two since, with the Ex-King of +Westphalia, Jerome Bonaparte. He lives here with the title of Prince +Montfort, conferred on him by his father-in-law, the king of +Wurtemburg. Americans are well received at this house also; and his +queen, as the prince still calls her, can never say enough in praise +of the family of Mr. H., our former secretary of legation at Paris. It +is a constantly recurring theme, and ends always with "_J'aime +beaucoup les Americains_." The prince resembles his brother, but has a +milder face, and his mouth is less firm and less beautiful than +Napoleon's. His second son is most remarkably like the emperor. He is +about ten years of age; but except his youth, you can detect no +difference between his head and the busts of his uncle. He has a +daughter of about twelve, and an elder son at the university of +Sienna. His family is large as his queen still keeps up her state, +with the ladies of honor and suite. He never goes out, but his house +is open every night, and the best society of Florence may be met there +almost at the _prima sera_, or early part of the evening. + +The Grand Duke is about to be married, and the court is to be +unusually gay in the carnival. Our countryman, Mr. Thorn, was +presented some time since, and I am to have that honor in two or three +days. By the way, we feel exceedingly in Italy the want of a +_minister_. There is no accredited agent of our government in Tuscany, +and there are rarely less than three hundred Americans within its +dominions. Fortunately the Marquis Corsi, the grand chamberlain of the +duke, offers to act in the capacity of an ambassador, and neglects +nothing for our advantage in such matters, but he never fails to +express his regret that we should not have some _chargé d'affaires_ at +his court. We have officers in many parts of the world where they are +much less needed. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[4] The name of a wooden frame by which a pot of coals is hung between +the sheets of a bed in Italy. + +[5] As if everything should be poetical on the shores of the +Clitumnus, the beggars ran after us in quartettes, singing a chaunt, +and sustaining the four parts as they ran. Every child sings well in +Italy; and I have heard worse music in a church anthem, than was made +by these half-clothed and homeless wretches, running at full speed by +the carriage-wheels. I have never met the same thing elsewhere. + + + + +LETTER XLVII. + + FLORENCE--GRAND DUKE OF TUSCANY--THE GRAND CHAMBERLAIN--PRINCE + DE LIGNE--THE AUSTRIAN AMBASSADOR--THE MARQUIS + TORRIGIANI--LEOPOLD OF TUSCANY--VIEWS OF THE VAL + D'ARNO--SPLENDID BALL--TREES OF CANDLES--THE DUKE AND + DUCHESS--HIGHBORN ITALIAN AND ENGLISH BEAUTIES, ETC., ETC. + + +I was presented to the grand Duke of Tuscany yesterday morning, at a +private audience. As we have no minister at this court, I drove alone +to the ducal palace, and, passing through the body-guard of young +nobles, was met at the door of the ante-chamber by the Marquis Corsi, +the grand chamberlain. Around a blazing fire, in this room, stood five +or six persons, in splendid uniforms, to whom I was introduced on +entering. One was the Prince de Ligne--traveling at present in Italy, +and waiting to be presented by the Austrian ambassador--a young and +remarkably handsome man of twenty-five. He showed a knowledge of +America, in the course of a half hour's conversation, which rather +surprised me, inquiring particularly about the residences and +condition of the United States' ministers whom he had met at the +various courts of Europe. The Austrian ambassador, an old, +wily-looking man, covered with orders, joined in the conversation and +asked after our former minister at Paris, Mr. Brown, remarking that he +had done the United States great credit, during his embassy. He had +known Mr. Gallatin also, and spoke highly of him. Mr. Van Buren's +election to the vice-presidency, after his recall, seemed greatly to +surprise him. + +The Prince was summoned to the presence of the Duke, and I remained +some fifteen minutes in conversation with a venerable and +noble-looking man, the Marquis Torrigiani, one of the chamberlains. +His eldest son has lately gone upon his travels in the United States, +in company with Mr. Thorn, an American gentleman living in Florence. +He seemed to think the voyage a great undertaking. Torrigiani is one +of the oldest of the Florentine nobles, and his family is in high +esteem. + +As the Austrian minister came out, the Grand Chamberlain came for me, +and I entered the presence of the Duke. He was standing quite alone in +a small, plain room, dressed in a simple white uniform, with a star +upon his breast--a slender, pale, scholar-like looking young man, of +perhaps thirty years. He received me with a pleasant smile, and +crossing his hands behind him, came close to me, and commenced +questioning me about America. The departure of young Torrigiani for +the United States pleased him, and he said he should like to go +himself--"but," said he, "a voyage of three thousand miles and +back--_comment faire!_" and he threw out his hands with a look of mock +despair that was very expressive. He assured me he felt great pleasure +at Mr. Thorn's having taken up his residence in Florence. He had sent +for his whole family a few days before, and promised them every +attention to their comfort during the absence of Mr. Thorn. He said +young Torrigiani was _bien instruit_, and would travel to advantage, +without doubt. At every pause of his inquiries, he looked me full in +the eyes, and seemed anxious to yield me the _parole_ and listen. He +bowed with a smile, after I had been with him perhaps half an hour, +and I took my leave with all the impressions of his character which +common report had given me, quite confirmed. He is said to be the best +monarch in Europe, and it is written most expressively in his mild, +amiable features. + +The Duke is very unwilling to marry again, although the crown passes +from his family if he die without a male heir. He has two daughters, +lovely children, between five and seven, whose mother died not quite a +year since. She was unusually beloved, both by her husband and his +subjects, and is still talked of by the people, and never without the +deepest regret. She was very religious, and is said to have died of a +cold taken in doing a severe penance. The Duke watched with her day +and night, till she died; and I was told by the old Chamberlain, that +he cannot yet speak of her without tears. + +With the new year, the Grand Duke of Tuscany threw off his mourning. +Not from his countenance, for the sadness of that is habitual; but his +equipages have laid off their black trappings, his grooms and +outriders are in drab and gold, and, more important to us strangers in +his capital, the ducal palace is aired with a weekly reception and +ball, as splendid and hospitable as money and taste can make them. + +Leopold of Tuscany is said to be the richest individual in Europe. The +Palazzo Pitti, in which he lives, seems to confirm it. The exterior is +marked with the character of the times in which it was built, and +might be that of a fortress--its long, dark front of roughly-hewn +stone, with its two slight, out-curving wings, bearing a look of more +strength than beauty. The interior is incalculably rich. The suite of +halls on the front side is the home of the choicest and most extensive +gallery of pictures in the world. The tables of inlaid gems and +mosaic, the walls encrusted with relievos, the curious floors, the +drapery--all satiate the eye with sumptuousness. It is built against a +hill, and I was surprised, on the night of the ball, to find myself +alighting from the carriage upon the same floor to which I had mounted +from the front by tediously long staircases. The Duke thus rides in +his carriage to his upper story--an advantage which saves him no +little fatigue and exposure. The gardens of the Boboli, which cover +the hill behind, rise far above the turrets of the palace, and command +glorious views of the Val d'Arno. + +The reception hour at the ball was from eight to nine. We were +received at the steps on the garden side of the palace, by a crowd of +servants, in livery, under the orders of a fat major-domo, and passing +through a long gallery, lined with exotics and grenadiers, we arrived +at the anteroom, where the Duke's body-guard of nobles were drawn up +in attendance. The band was playing delightfully in the saloon beyond. +I had arrived late, having been presented a few days before, and +desirous of avoiding the stiffness of the first hour of presentation. +The rooms were in a blaze of light from eight _trees_ of candles, +cypress-shaped, and reaching from the floor to the ceiling, and the +company entirely assembled, crowded them with a dazzling show of +jewels, flowers, feathers, and uniforms. + +The Duke and the Grand Duchess (the widow of the late Duke) stood in +the centre of the room, and in the pauses of conversation, the +different ambassadors presented their countrymen. His highness was +dressed in a suit of plain black, probably the worst made clothes in +Florence. With his pale, timid face, his bent shoulders, an +inexpressibly ill-tied cravat, and rank, untrimmed whiskers, he was +the most uncourtly person present. His extreme popularity as a monarch +is certainly very independent of his personal address. His +mother-in-law is about his own age, with marked features, full of +talent, a pale, high forehead, and the bearing altogether of a queen. +She wore a small diadem of the purest diamonds, and with her height +and her flashing jewels, she was conspicuous from every part of the +room. She is a high Catholic, and is said to be bending all her powers +upon the re-establishment of the Jesuits in Florence. + +As soon as the presentations were over, the Grand Duke led out the +wife of the English ambassador, and opened the ball with a waltz. He +then danced a quadrille with the wife of the French ambassador, and +for his next partner selected an _American lady_--the daughter of +Colonel T----, of New York. + +The supper rooms were opened early, and among the delicacies of a +table loaded with everything rare and luxurious, were a brace or two +of pheasants from the Duke's estates in Germany. Duly flavored with +_truffes_, and accompanied with Rhine wines, which deserved the +conspicuous place given them upon the royal table--and in this letter. + +I hardly dare speak of the degree of _beauty_ in the assembly; it is +so difficult to compare a new impression with an old one, and the +thing itself is so indefinite. But there were two persons present +whose extreme loveliness, as it is not disputed even by admiring envy, +may be worth describing, for the sake of the comparison. + +The Princess S---- may be twenty-four years of age. She is of the +middle height, with the slight stoop in her shoulders, which is rather +a grace than a fault. Her bust is exquisitely turned, her neck slender +but full, her arms, hands, and feet, those of a Psyche. Her face is +the abstraction of highborn Italian beauty--calm, almost to +indifference, of an indescribably _glowing paleness_--a complexion +that would be alabaster if it were not for the richness of the blood +beneath, betrayed in lips whose depth of color and fineness of curve +seem only too curiously beautiful to be the work of nature. Her eyes +are dark and large, and must have had an indolent expression in her +childhood, but are now the very seat and soul of feeling. A constant +trace of pain mars the beauty of her forehead. She dresses her hair +with a kind of characteristic departure from the mode, parting its +glossy flakes on her brow with nymph-like simplicity, a peculiarity +which one regrets not to see in the too Parisian dress of her person. +In her manner she is strikingly elegant, but without being absent, she +seems to give an unconscious attention to what is about her, and to be +gracious and winning without knowing or intending it, merely because +she could not listen or speak otherwise. Her voice is sweet, and, in +her own Italian, mellow and soft to a degree inconceivable by those +who have not heard this delicious language spoken in its native land. +With all these advantages, and a look of pride that nothing could +insult, there is an expression in her beautiful face that reminds you +of her sex and its temptations, and prepares you fully for the history +which you may hear from the first woman that stands at your elbow. + +The other is that English girl of seventeen, shrinking timidly from +the crowd, and leaning with her hands clasped over her father's arm, +apparently listening only to the waltz, and unconscious that every eye +is fixed upon her in admiration. She has lived all her life in Italy, +but has been bred by an English mother, in a retired villa of the Val +d'Arno--her character and feelings are those of her race, and nothing +of Italy about her, but the glow of its sunny clime in the else +spotless snow of her complexion, and an enthusiasm in her downcast eye +that you may account for as you will--it is not English! Her form has +just ripened into womanhood. The bust still wants fullness, and the +step confidence. Her forehead is rather too intellectual to be +maidenly; but the droop of her singularly long eye-lashes over eyes +that elude the most guarded glance of your own, and the modest +expression of her lips closed but not pressed together, redeem her +from any look of conscious superiority, and convince you that she only +seeks to be unobserved. A single ringlet of golden brown hair falls +nearly to her shoulder, catching the light upon its glossy curves with +an effect that would enchant a painter. Lilies of the valley, the +first of the season, are in her bosom and her hair, and she might be +the personification of the flower for delicacy and beauty. You are +only disappointed in talking with her. She expresses herself with a +nerve and self-command, which, from a slight glance, you did not +anticipate. She shrinks from the general eye, but in conversation she +is the high-minded woman more than the timid child for which her +manner seems to mark her. In either light, she is the very presence of +purity. She stands by the side of her not less beautiful rival, like a +Madonna by a Magdalen--both seem not at home in the world, but only +one could have dropped from heaven. + + + + +LETTER XLVIII. + + VALLOMBROSA--ITALIAN OXEN--CONVENT--SERVICE IN THE + CHAPEL--HOUSE OCCUPIED BY MILTON. + + +I left Florence for Vallombrosa at daylight on a warm summer's +morning, in company with four ladies. We drove along the northern bank +of the Arno for four or five miles, passing several beautiful villas, +belonging to the Florentine nobles; and, crossing the river by a +picturesque bridge, took the road to the village of Pelago, which lies +at the foot of the mountain, and is the farthest point to which a +carriage can mount. It is about fourteen miles from Florence, and the +ascent thence to the convent is nearly three. + +We alighted in the centre of the village, in the midst of a ragged +troop of women and children, among whom were two idiot beggars; and, +while the preparations were making for our ascent, we took chairs in +the open square around a basket of cherries, and made a delicious +luncheon of fruit and bread, very much to the astonishment of some two +hundred spectators. + +Our conveyances appeared in the course of half an hour, consisting of +two large baskets, each drawn by a pair of oxen and containing two +persons, and a small Sardinian pony. The ladies seated themselves with +some hesitation in their singular sledges; I mounted the pony, and we +made a dusty exit from Pelago, attended to the gate by our gaping +friends, who bowed, and wished us the _bon viaggio_ with more +gratitude than three Tuscan _crazie_ would buy, I am sure, in any +other part of the world. + +The gray oxen of Italy are quite a different race from ours, much +lighter and quicker, and in a small vehicle they will trot off five or +six miles in the hour as freely as a horse. They are exceedingly +beautiful. The hide is very fine, of a soft squirrel gray, and as +sleek and polished often as that of a well-groomed courser. With their +large, bright, intelligent eyes, high-lifted heads, and open nostrils, +they are among the finest-looking animals in the world in motion. We +soon came to the steep path, and the facility with which our singular +equipages mounted was surprising. I followed, as well as I could, on +my diminutive pony, my feet touching the ground, and my balance +constantly endangered by the contact of stumps and stones--the +hard-mouthed little creature taking his own way, in spite of every +effort of mine to the contrary. + +We stopped to breathe in a deep, cool glen, which lay across our path, +the descent into which was very difficult. The road through the bottom +of it ran just above the bank of a brook, into which poured a pretty +fall of eight or ten feet, and with the spray-wet grass beneath, and +the full-leaved chestnuts above, it was as delicious a spot for a rest +in a summer noontide as I ever saw. The ladies took out their pencils +and sketched it, making a group themselves the while, which added all +the picture wanted. + +The path wound continually about in the deep woods, with which the +mountain is covered, and occasionally from an opening we obtained a +view back upon the valley of the Arno, which was exceedingly fine. We +came in sight of the convent in about two hours, emerging from the +shade of the thick chestnuts into a cultivated lawn, fenced and mown +with the nicety of the grass-plot before a cottage, and entering upon +a smooth, well-swept pavement, approached the gate of the +venerable-looking pile, as anxious for the refreshment of its +far-famed hospitality as ever pilgrims were. + +An old cheerful-looking monk came out to meet us, and shaking hands +with the ladies very cordially, assisted in extracting them from their +cramped conveyances. He then led the way to a small stone cottage, a +little removed from the convent, quoting gravely by the way the law of +the order against the entrance of females over the monastic threshold. +We were ushered into a small, neat parlor, with two bedrooms +communicating, and two of the servants of the monastery followed, with +water and snow-white napkins, the _padre degli forestieri_, as they +called the old monk, who received us, talking most volubly all the +while. + +The cook appeared presently with a low reverence, and asked what we +would like for dinner. He ran over the contents of the larder before +we had time to answer his question, enumerating half a dozen kinds of +game, and a variety altogether that rather surprised our ideas of +monastical severity. His own rosy gills bore testimony that it was not +the kitchen of Dennis Bulgruddery. + +While dinner was preparing, Father Gasparo proposed a walk. An avenue +of the most majestic trees opened immediately away from the little +lawn before the cottage door. We followed it perhaps half a mile round +the mountain, threading a thick pine forest, till we emerged on the +edge of a shelf of greensward, running just under the summit of the +hill. From this spot the view was limited only by the power of the +eye. The silver line of the Mediterranean off Leghorn is seen hence on +a clear day, between which and the mountain lie sixty or seventy +miles, wound into the loveliest undulations by the course of the Arno. +The vale of this beautiful river, in which Florence stands, was just +distinguishable as a mere dell in the prospect. It was one of the +sultriest days of August, but the air was vividly fresh, and the sun, +with all the strength of the climate of Italy, was unoppressive. We +seated ourselves on the small fine grass of the hillside, and with the +good old monk narrating passages of his life, enjoyed the glorious +scene till the cook's messenger summoned us back to dinner. + +We were waited upon at table by two young servitors of the convent, +with shaven crowns and long black cassocks, under the direction of +Father Gasparo, who sat at a little distance, entertaining us with his +inexhaustible stories till the bell rung for the convent supper. The +dinner would have graced the table of an emperor. Soup, beef, cutlets, +ducks, woodcocks, followed each other, cooked in the most approved +manner, with all the accompaniments established by taste and usage; +and better wine, white and red, never was pressed from the Tuscan +grape. The dessert was various and plentiful; and while we were +sitting, after the good father's departure, wondering at the luxuries +we had found on a mountain-top, strong coffee and _liqueurs_ were set +before us, both of the finest flavor. + +I was to sleep myself in the convent. Father Gasparo joined us upon +the wooden bench in the avenue, where we were enjoying a brilliant +sunset, and informed me that the gates shut at eight. The vesper-bell +soon rung, echoing round from the rocks, and I bade my four companions +good night, and followed the monk to the cloisters. As we entered the +postern, he asked me whether I would go directly to the cell, or +attend first the service in the chapel, assisting my decision at the +same time by gently slipping his arm through mine and drawing me +toward the cloth door, from which a strong peal of the organ was +issuing. + +We lifted the suspended curtain, and entered a chapel so dimly lit, +that I could only judge of its extent from the reverberations of the +music. The lamps were all in the choir, behind the altar, and the +shuffling footsteps of the gathering monks approached it from every +quarter. Father Gasparo led me to the base of a pillar, and telling me +to kneel, left me and entered the choir, where he was lost in the +depth of one of the old richly-carved seats for a few minutes, +appearing again with thirty or forty others, who rose and joined in +the chorus of the chant, making the hollow roof ring with the deep +unmingled base of their voices. + +I stood till I was chilled, listening to the service, and looking at +the long line of monks rising and sitting, with their monotonous +changes of books and positions, and not knowing which way to go for +warmth or retirement. I wandered up and down the dim church during the +remaining hour, an unwilling, but not altogether an unamused spectator +of the scene. The performers of the service, with the exception of +Father Gasparo, were young men from sixteen to twenty; but during my +slow turns to and fro on the pavement of the church, fifteen or twenty +old monks entered, and, with a bend of the knee before the altar went +off into the obscure corners, and knelt motionless at prayer, for +almost an hour. I could just distinguish the dark outline of their +figures when my eye became accustomed to the imperfect light, and I +never saw a finer spectacle of religious devotion. + +The convent clock struck ten, and shutting up their "clasped missals," +the young monks took their cloaks about them, bent their knees in +passing the altar, and disappeared by different doors. Father Gasparo +was the last to depart, and our footsteps echoed as we passed through +the long cloisters to the cell appropriated for me. We opened one of +some twenty small doors, and I was agreeably surprised to find a +supper of cold game upon the table, with a bottle of wine, and two +plates--the monk intending to give me his company at supper. The cell +was hung round with bad engravings of the Virgin, the death of +martyrs, crosses, &c., and a small oaken desk stood against the wall +beneath a large crucifix, with a prayer-book upon it. The bed was +high, ample, and spotlessly white, and relieved the otherwise +comfortless look of a stone floor and white-washed walls. I felt the +change from summer heat to the keen mountain air, and as I shivered +and buttoned my coat, my gay guest threw over me his heavy black cowl +of cloth--a dress that, with its closeness and numerous folds, would +keep one warm in Siberia. Adding to it his little black scull-cap, he +told me, with a hearty laugh, that but for a certain absence of +sanctity in the expression of my face, and the uncanonical length of +my hair, I looked the monk complete. We had a merry supper. The wine +was of a choicer vintage than that we had drank at dinner, and the +father answered, upon my discovery of its merits, that he _never +wasted it upon women_. + +In the course of the conversation, I found out that my entertainer was +a kind of butler, or head-servitor of the convent, and that the great +body of the monks were of noble lineage. The feeling of pride still +remains among them from the days when the Certosa of Vallombrosa was a +residence for princes, before its splendid pictures were pillaged by a +foreign army, its wealth scattered, and its numbers diminished. "In +those days," said the monk, "we received nothing for our hospitality +but the pleasure it gave us"--relieving my mind, by the remark, of +what I looked forward to at parting as a delicate point. + +My host left me at midnight, and I went to bed, and slept under a +thick covering in an Italian August. "The blanched linen, white and +lavendered," seemed to have a peculiar charm, for though I had +promised to meet my excluded companions at sunrise, on the top of the +mountain, I slept soundly till nine, and was obliged to breakfast +alone in the refectory of the convent. + +We were to dine at three, and start for Florence at four the next day, +and we spent our morning in traversing the mountain paths, and getting +views on every side. Fifty or a hundred feet above the convent, +perched on a rock like an eyry, stands a small building in which +Milton is supposed to have lived, during his six weeks sojourn at the +convent. It is now fitted up as a nest of small chapels--every one of +its six or eight little chambers having an altar. The ladies were not +permitted to enter it. I selected the room I presumed the poet must +have chosen--the only one commanding the immense view to the west, +and, looking from the window, could easily feel the truth of his +simile, "thick as leaves in Vallombrosa." It is a mountain of foliage. + +Another sumptuous dinner was served, Father Gasparo sitting by, even +more voluble than before, the baskets and the pony were brought to the +door, and we bade farewell to the old monk with more regret than a +day's acquaintance often produces. We reached our carriage in an hour, +and were in Florence at eight--having passed, by unanimous opinion, +the two brightest days in our calendar of travel. + + + + +LETTER XLIX. + + HOUSE OF MICHAEL ANGELO--THE ANCIENT CHURCH OF SAN + MINIATO--MADAME CATALANI--WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR--MIDNIGHT MASS, + ETC. + + +I went with a party this morning to visit _the house of Michael +Angelo_. It stands as he lived in it, in the Via Ghibellini, and is +still in possession of his descendants. It is a neat building of three +stories, divided on the second floor into three rooms, shown as those +occupied by the painter, sculptor, and poet. The first is panelled and +painted by his scholars after his death--each picture representing +some incident of his life. There are ten or twelve of these, and +several of them are highly beautiful. One near the window represents +him in his old age on a visit to "Lorenzo the Magnificent," who +commands him to sit in his presence. The Duke is standing before his +chair, and the figure of the old man is finely expressive. + +The next room appears to have been his parlor, and the furniture is +exactly as it stood when he died. In one corner is placed a bust of +him in his youth, with his face perfect; and opposite, another, taken +from a cast after his nose was broken by a fellow painter in the +church of the Carmine. There are also one or two portraits of him, and +the resemblance through them all, shows that the likeness we have of +him in the engravings are uncommonly correct. + +In the inner room, which was his studio, they show his pallet, +brushes, pots, maul-sticks, slippers, and easel--all standing +carelessly in the little closets around, as if he had left them but +yesterday. The walls are painted in fresco, by Angelo himself, and +represent groups of all the distinguished philosophers, poets and +statesmen of his time. Among them are the heads of Petrarch, Dante, +Galileo, and Lorenzo de Medici. It is a noble gallery! perhaps a +hundred heads in all. + +The descendant of Buonarotti is now an old man, and fortunately rich +enough to preserve the house of his great ancestor as an object of +curiosity. He has a son, I believe studying the arts at Rome. + + * * * * * + +On a beautiful hill which ascends directly from one of the southern +gates of Florence, stands a church built so long ago as at the close +of the first century. The gate, church, and hill, are all called San +Miniato, after a saint buried under the church pavement. A large, and +at present flourishing convent, hangs on the side of the hill below, +and around the church stand the walls of a strong fortress, built by +Michael Angelo. A half mile or more south, across a valley, an old +tower rises against the sky, which was erected for the observations of +Galileo. A mile to the left, on the same ridge, an old villa is to be +seen in which Boccaccio wrote most of his "Hundred Tales of Love." +The Arno comes down from Vallombrosa, and passing through Florence at +the foot of San Miniato, is seen for three miles further on its way to +Pisa; the hill, tower, and convent of Fiesole, where Milton studied +and Catiline encamped with his conspirators, rise from the opposite +bank of the river; and right below, as if you could leap into the +lantern of the dome, nestles the lovely city of Florence, in the lap +of the very brightest vale that ever mountain sheltered or river ran +through. Such are the temptations to a _walk in Italy_, and add to it +the charms of the climate, and you may understand one of a hundred +reasons why it is the land of poetry and romance, and why it so easily +becomes the land of a stranger's affection. + +The villas which sparkle all over the hills which lean unto Florence, +are occupied mainly by foreigners living here for health or luxury, +and most of them are known and visited by the floating society of the +place. Among them are Madame Catalani, the celebrated singer, who +occupies a beautiful palace on the ascent of Fiesole, and Walter +Savage Landor, the author of the "Imaginary Conversations," as refined +a scholar perhaps as is now living, who is her near neighbor. A +pleasant family of my acquaintance lives just back of the fortress of +San Miniato, and in walking out to them with a friend yesterday, I +visited the church again, and remarked more particularly the features +of the scene I have described. + +The church of San Miniato was built by Henry I. of Germany, and +Cunegonde his wife. The front is pretty--a kind of mixture of Greek +and Arabic architecture, crusted with marble. The interior is in the +style of the primitive churches, the altar standing in what was called +the _presbytery_, a high platform occupying a third of the nave, with +two splendid flights of stairs of the purest white marble. The most +curious part of it is the rotunda in the rear, which is lit by five +windows of transparent oriental alabaster, each eight or nine feet +high and three broad, in single slabs. The sun shone full on one of +them while we were there, and the effect was inconceivably rich. It +was like a sheet of half molten gold and silver. The transparency of +course was irregular, but in the yellow spots of the stone the light +came through like the effect of deeply stained glass. + +A partly subterranean chapel, six or eight feet lower than the +pavement of the church, extends under the presbytery. It is a +labyrinth of marble columns which support the platform above, no two +of which are alike. The ancient cathedral of Modena is the only church +I have seen in Italy built in the same manner. + + * * * * * + +The _midnight mass_ on "Christmas eve," is abused in all catholic +countries, I believe, as a kind of saturnalia of gallantry. I joined a +party of young men who were leaving a ball for the church of the +Annunciata, the fashionable rendezvous, and we were set down at the +portico when the mass was about half over. The entrances of the open +vestibule were thronged to suffocation. People of all ages and +conditions were crowding in and out, and the sound of the distant +chant at the altar came to our ears as we entered, mingled with every +tone of address and reply from the crowd about us. The body of the +church was quite obscured with the smoke of the incense. We edged our +way on through the press, carried about in the open area of the church +by every tide that rushed in from the various doors, till we stopped +in a thick eddy in the centre, almost unable to stir a limb. I could +see the altar very clearly from this point, and I contented myself +with merely observing what was about me, leaving my motions to the +impulse of the crowd. + +It was a curiously mingled scene. The ceremonies of the altar were +going on in all their mysterious splendor. The waving of censers, the +kneeling and rising of the gorgeously clad priests, accompanied +simultaneously by the pealing of solemn music from the different +organs--the countless lights burning upon the altar, and, ranged +within the paling, a semicircle of the duke's grenadiers, standing +motionless, with their arms presented, while the sentinel paced to and +fro, and all kneeling, and grounding arms at the tinkle of the slight +bell--were the materials for the back-ground of the picture. In the +immense area of the church stood perhaps, four thousand people, one +third of whom, doubtless, came to worship. Those who did and those who +did not, dropped alike upon the marble pavement at the sound of the +bell; and then, as I was heretic enough to stand, I had full +opportunity for observing both devotion and intrigue. The latter was +amusingly managed. Almost all the pretty and young women were +accompanied by an ostensible duenna, and the methods of eluding their +vigilance in communication were various. I had detected under a +_blond_ wig, in entering, the young ambassador of a foreign court, who +being _cavaliere servente_ to one of the most beautiful women in +Florence, certainly had no right to the amusement of the hour. We had +been carried up the church in the same tide, and when the whole crowd +were prostrate, I found him just beyond me, slipping a card into the +shoe of an uncommonly pretty girl kneeling before him. She was +attended by both father and mother apparently, but as she gave no sign +of surprise, except stealing an almost imperceptible glance behind +her, I presumed she was not offended. I passed an hour, perhaps, in +amused observation of similar matters, most of which could not be well +described on paper. It is enough to say, that I do not think more +dissolute circumstances accompanied the worship of Venus in the most +defiled of heathen temples. + + + + +LETTER L. + + FLORENCE--VISIT TO THE CHURCH OF SAN GAETANO--PENITENTIAL + PROCESSIONS--THE REFUGEE CARLISTS--THE MIRACLE OF RAIN--CHURCH + OF THE ANNUNCIATA--TOMB OF GIOVANNI DI BOLOGNA--MASTERPIECE OF + ANDREA DEL SARTO, ETC., ETC. + + +I heard the best passage of the opera of "Romeo and Juliet" +delightfully played in the church of _San Gaetano_ this morning. I was +coming from the _café_, where I had been breakfasting, when the sound +of the organ drew me in. The communion was administering at one of the +side chapels, the showy Sunday mass was going on at the great altar, +and the numerous confession boxes were full of penitents, _all +female_, as usual. As I took a seat near the communicants, the sacred +wafer was dipped into the cup and put into the mouth of a young woman +kneeling before the railing. She rose soon after, and I was not +lightly surprised to find it was a certain errand-girl of a bachelor's +washerwoman, as unfit a person for the holy sacrament as wears a +petticoat in Florence. + +I was drawn by the agreeable odor of the incense to the paling of the +high altar. The censers were flung by unseen hands from the doors of +the sacristy at the sides, and an unseen chorus of boys in the choir +behind, broke in occasionally with the high-keyed chant that echoes +with its wild melody from every arch and corner of these immense +churches. It seems running upon the highest note that the ear can +bear, and yet nothing could be more musical. A man knelt on the +pavement near me, with two coarse baskets beside him, and the traces +of long and dirty travel from his heels to his hips. He had stopped in +to the mass, probably, on his way to market. There can be no greater +contrast than that seen in Catholic churches, between the splendor of +architecture, renowned pictures, statues and ornaments of silver and +gold, and the crowd of tattered, famished, misery-marked worshippers +that throng them. I wonder it never occurs to them, that the costly +pavement upon which they kneel might feed and clothe them.[6] + +Penitential processions are to be met all over Florence to-day, on +account of the uncommon degree of sickness. One of them passed under +my window just now. They are composed of people of all classes, upon +whom it is inflicted as a penance by the priests. A white robe covers +them entirely, even the face, and, with their eyes glaring through the +two holes made for that purpose, they look like processions of +shrouded corpses. Eight of the first carry burning candles of six feet +in length, and a company in the rear have the church books, from which +they chant, the whole procession joining in a melancholy chorus of +three notes. It rains hard to-day, and their white dresses cling to +them with a ludicrously ungraceful effect. + +Florence is an unhealthful climate in the winter. The tramontane winds +come down from the Appenines so sharply, that delicate constitutions, +particularly those liable to pulmonary complaints, suffer invariably. +There has been a dismal mortality among the Italians. The Marquis +Corsi, who presented me at court a week ago (the last day he was out, +and the last duty he performed), lies in state, at this moment, in the +church of Santa Trinita, and another of the duke's counsellors of +state died a few days before. His prime minister, Fossombroni, is +dangerously ill also, and all of the same complaint, the _mal di +petto_, as it is called, or disease of the lungs. Corsi is a great +loss to Americans. He was the grand chamberlain of court, wealthy and +hospitable, and took particular pride in fulfilling the functions of +an American ambassador. He was a courtier of the old school, +accomplished, elegant, and possessed of universal information. + + * * * * * + +The _refugee Carlists_ are celebrating to-day, in the church of Santa +Maria Novella, the anniversary of the death of _Louis XVI_. The bishop +of Strasbourg is here, and is performing high mass for the soul of the +"_martyr_," as they term him. Italy is full of the more aristocratic +families of France, and it has become _mauvais ton_ in society to +advocate the present government of France, or even its principles. +They detest Louis Philippe with the virulence of a deadly private +enmity, and declare universally, that they will exile themselves till +they can return to overthrow him. Among the refugees are great numbers +of young men, who are sent away from home with a chivalrous devotion +to the cause of the Duchess of Berri, which they avow so constantly in +the circles of Italian society, that she seems the exclusive heroine +of the day. There was nothing seen of the French exquisites in +Florence for a week after she was taken. They were in mourning for the +misfortune of their mistress. + + * * * * * + +All Florence is ringing with _the miracle_. The city fountains have +for some days been dry, and the whole country was suffering for rain. +_The day before the moon changed_, the procession began, and the day +after, when the sky was full of clouds, the holy picture in the church +of the Annunciata, "painted by St. Luke himself," was solemnly +uncovered. The result was the present miracle of _rain_, and the +priests are preaching upon it from every pulpit. The _padrone_ of my +lodgings came in this morning, and told me the circumstances with the +most serious astonishment. + +I joined the crowd this morning, who are still thronging up the _via +de Servi_ to the church of the Annunciata at all hours of the day. The +square in front of the church was like a fair--every nook occupied +with the little booths of the sellers of rosaries, saints books, and +pictures. We were assailed by a troop of pedlars at the door, holding +leaden medals and crucifixes, and crying, at the top of their voices, +for _fidele Christiani_ to spend a crazie for the love of God. + +After crowding up the long cloister with a hundred or two of wretches, +steaming from the rain, and fresh from every filthy occupation in the +city, we were pushed under the suspended leather door, and reached the +nave of the church. In the slow progress we made toward the altar, I +had full opportunity to study the fretted-gold ceiling above me, the +masterly pictures in the side chapels, the statuary, carving, and +general architecture. Description can give you no idea of the waste +of splendor in these places. + +I stood at last within sight of the miraculous picture. It is painted +in fresco, above an altar surrounded with a paling of bronze and +marble projecting into the body of the church. Eight or ten massive +silver lamps, each one presented by some _trade_ in Florence, hung +from the roof of the chapel, burning with a dusky glare in the +daylight. A grenadier, with cap and musket, stood on each side of the +bronze gate, repressing the eager rush of the crowd. Within, at the +side of the altar, stood the officiating priest, a man with a look of +intellect and nobleness on his fine features and lofty forehead, that +seemed irreconcilable with the folly he was performing. The devotees +came in, one by one, as they were admitted by the sentinel, knelt, +offered their rosary to the priest, who touched it to the frame of the +picture with one hand, and received their money with the other, and +then crossing themselves, and pressing the beads to their bosom, +passed out at the small door leading into the cloisters. + +As the only chance of seeing the picture, I bought a rosary for two +crazie (about three cents), and pressed into the throng. In a half +hour it came to my turn to pass the guard. The priest took my silver +paul, and while he touched the beads to the picture, I had a moment to +look at it nearly. I could see nothing but a confused mass of black +paint, with an indistinct outline of the head of the Madonna in the +centre. The large spiked rays of glory standing out from every side +were all I could see in the imperfect light. The richness of the +chapel itself, however, was better worth the trouble to see. It is +quite encrusted with silver. Silver _bassi relievi_, two silver +candelabra, six feet in height, two very large silver statues of +angels, a _ciborio_ (enclosing a most exquisite head of our Saviour, +by _Andrea del Sarto_), a massive silver cornice sustaining a heavily +folded silver curtain, and silver lilies and lamps in any quantity all +around. I wonder, after the plundering of the church of San Antonio, +at Padua, that these useless riches escaped Napoleon. + +How some of the priests, who are really learned and clever men, can +lend themselves to such barefaced imposture as this miracle, it is +difficult to conceive. The picture has been kept as a doer of these +miracles, perhaps for a century. It is never uncovered in vain. +Supernatural results are certain to follow, and it is done as often as +they dare to make a fresh draught on the credulity and money of the +people. The story is as follows: "A certain Bartolomeo, while painting +a fresco of the annunciation, being at a loss how to make the +countenance of the Madonna properly seraphic, fell asleep while +pondering over his work; and, on waking, found it executed in a style +he was unable to equal." I can only say that St. Luke, or the angel, +or whoever did it, was a very indifferent draughtsman. It is ill +drawn, and whatever the colors might have been upon the pallet of the +sleepy painter, they were not made immortal by angelic use. It is a +mass of confused black. + +I was glad to get away from the crowd and their mummery, and pay a new +tribute of reverence at the tomb of _Giovanni di Bologna_. He is +buried behind the grand altar, in a chapel ornamented at his own +expense, and with his own inimitable works. Six bas-reliefs in bronze, +than which life itself is not more natural, represent different +passages of our Saviour's history. They were done for the Grand Duke, +who, at the death of the artist, liberally gave them to ornament his +tomb. After the authors of the Venus and the Apollo Belvidere, John of +Bologna is, in my judgment, the greatest of sculptors. His _mounting +Mercury_, in the Florence gallery, might have been a theft from heaven +for its divine beauty. + +In passing out by the cloisters of the adjoining convent, I stopped a +moment to see the fresco of the _Madonna del Sacco_, said to have been +the masterpiece of _Andrea del Sarto_. Michael Angelo and Raphael are +said to have "gazed at it unceasingly." It is much defaced, and +preserves only its graceful drawing. The countenance of Mary has the +_beau reste_ of singular loveliness. The models of this delightful +artist (who, by the way, is buried in the vestibule of this same +church), must have been the most beautiful in the world. All his +pictures move the heart. + + +FOOTNOTE: + +[6] The Tuscans, who are the best governed people in Italy, pay +_twenty per cent._ of their property in taxes--paying the whole value +of their estates, of course, in five years. The extortions of the +priests, added to this, are sufficiently burdensome. + + + + +LETTER LI. + + FLORENTINE PECULIARITIES--SOCIETY--BALLS--DUCAL + ENTERTAINMENTS--PRIVILEGE OF STRANGERS--FAMILIES OF HIGH + RANK--THE EXCLUSIVES--SOIREES--PARTIES OF A RICH + BANKER--PEASANT BEAUTY--VISITERS OF A BARONESS--AWKWARD + DEPORTMENT OF A PRINCE--A CONTENTED MARRIED LADY--HUSBANDS, + CAVALIERS, AND WIVES--PERSONAL MANNERS--HABITS OF SOCIETY, + ETC. + + +I am about starting on my second visit to Rome, after having passed +nearly three months in Florence. As I have seen most of the society of +this gayest and fairest of the Italian cities, it may not be +uninteresting to depart a little from the traveller's routine by +sketching a feature or two. + +Florence is a resort for strangers from every part of the world. The +gay society is a mixture of all nations, of whom one third may be +Florentine, one third English, and the remaining part equally divided +between Russians, Germans, French, Poles, and Americans. The English +entertain a great deal, and give most of the balls and dinner parties. +The Florentines seldom trouble themselves to give parties, but are +always at home for visits in the _prima sera_ (from seven till nine), +and in their box at the opera. They go, without scruple, to all the +strangers' balls, considering courtesy repaid, perhaps, by the weekly +reception of the Grand Duke, and a weekly ball at the club-house of +young Italian noblemen. + +The ducal entertainments occur every Tuesday, and are the most +splendid of course. The foreign ministers present all of their +countrymen who have been presented at their own courts, and the +company is necessarily more select than elsewhere. The Florentines who +go to court are about seven hundred, of whom half are invited on each +week--strangers, when once presented, having the double privilege of +coming uninvited to all. There are several Italian families, of the +highest rank, who are seen only here; but, with the single exception +of one unmarried girl, of uncommon beauty, who bears a name celebrated +in Italian history, they are no loss to general society. Among the +foreigners of rank, are three or four German princes, who play high +and waltz well, and are remarkable for nothing else; half a dozen +star-wearing dukes, counts, and marquises, of all nations and in any +quantity, and a few English noblemen and noble ladies--only the latter +nation showing their blood at all in their features and bearing. + +The most exclusive society is that of the Prince Montfort (Jerome +Bonaparte), whose splendid palace is shut entirely against the +English, and difficult of access to all. He makes a single exception +in favor of a descendant of the Talbots, a lady whose beauty might be +an apology for a much graver departure from rule. He has given two +grand entertainments since the carnival commenced, to which nothing +was wanting but people to enjoy them. The immense rooms were flooded +with light, the music was the best Florence could give, the supper +might have supped an army--stars and red ribands entered with every +fresh comer, but it looked like a "banquet hall deserted." Some thirty +ladies, and as many men, were all that Florence contained worthy of +the society of the Ex-King. A kinder man in his manners, however, or +apparently a more affectionate husband and father, I never saw. He +opened the dance by waltzing with the young Princess, his daughter, a +lovely girl of fourteen, of whom he seems fond to excess, and he was +quite the gayest person in the company till the ball was over. The +Ex-Queen, who is a miracle of size, sat on a divan, with her ladies of +honor about her, following her husband with her eyes, and enjoying his +gayety with the most childish good humor. + +The Saturday evening _soirées_, at Prince Poniatowski's (a brother of +the hero), are perhaps as agreeable as any in Florence. He has several +grown-up sons and daughters married, and, with a very sumptuous palace +and great liberality of style, he has made his parties more than +usually valued. His eldest daughter is the leader of the fashion, and +his second is the "cynosure of all eyes." The old Prince is a tall, +bent, venerable man, with snow-white hair, and very peculiarly marked +features. He is fond of speaking English, and professes a great +affection for America. + +Then there are the _soirées_ of the rich banker, Fenzi, which, as they +are subservient to business, assemble all ranks on the common +pretensions of interest. At the last, I saw, among other curiosities, +a young girl of eighteen from one of the more common families of +Florence--a fine specimen of the peasant beauty of Italy. Her heavily +moulded figure, hands, and feet, were quite forgiven when you looked +at her dark, deep, indolent eye, and glowing skin, and strongly-lined +mouth and forehead. The society was evidently new to her, but she had +a manner quite beyond being astonished. It was the kind of _animal +dignity_ so universal in the lower classes of this country. + +A German baroness of high rank receives on the Mondays, and here one +sees foreign society in its highest coloring. The prettiest woman that +frequents her parties, is a Genoese marchioness, who has _left her +husband_ to live with a Lucchese count, who has _left his wife_. He is +a very accomplished man, with the look of Mephistopheles in the +"Devil's Walk," and she is certainly a most fascinating woman. She is +received in most of the good society of Florence--a severe, though a +very just comment on its character. A Prince, the brother of the King +of ----, divided the attention of the company with her last Monday. He +is a tall, military-looking man, with very bad manners, ill at ease, +and impudent at the same time. He entered with his suite in the middle +of a song. The singer stopped, the company rose, the Prince swept +about, bowing like a dancing-master, and, after the sensation had +subsided, the ladies were taken up and presented to him, one by one. +He asked them all the same question, stayed through two songs, which +he spoiled by talking loudly all the while, and then bowed himself out +in the same awkward style, leaving everybody more happy for his +departure. + +One gains little by his opportunities of meeting Italian ladies in +society. The _cavaliere servente_ flourishes still as in the days of +Beppo, and it is to him only that the lady condescends to _talk_. +There is a delicate, refined-looking, little marchioness here, who is +remarkable as being the only known Italian lady without a cavalier. +They tell you, with an amused smile, "that she is content with her +husband." It really seems to be a business of real love between the +lady of Italy and her cavalier. Naturally enough too--for her parents +marry her without consulting her at all, and she selects a friend +afterward, as ladies in other countries select a lover who is to end +in a husband. The married couple are never seen together by any +accident, and the lady and her cavalier never apart. The latter is +always invited with her as a matter of course, and the husband, if +there is room, or if he is not forgotten. She is insulted if asked +without a cavalier, but is quite indifferent whether her husband goes +with her or not. These are points _really settled_ in the policy of +society, and the rights of the cavalier are specified in the marriage +contracts. I had thought, until I came to Italy, that such things were +either a romance, or customs of an age gone by. + +I like very much the personal manners of the Italians. They are mild +and courteous to the farthest extent of looks and words. They do not +entertain, it is true, but their great dim rooms are free to you +whenever you can find them at home, and you are at liberty to join the +gossiping circle around the lady of the house, or sit at the table and +read, or be silent unquestioned. You are _let alone_, if you seem to +choose it, and it is neither commented on, nor thought uncivil, and +this I take to be a grand excellence in manners. + +The society is dissolute, I think, almost without an exception. The +English fall into its habits, with the difference that they do not +conceal it so well, and have the appearance of knowing its +wrong--which the Italians have not. The latter are very much shocked +at the want of propriety in the management of the English. To suffer +the particulars of an intrigue to get about is a worse sin, in their +eyes, than any violation of the commandments. It is scarce possible +for an American to conceive the universal corruption of a society +like this of Florence, though, if he were not told of it he would +think it all that was delicate and attractive. There are external +features in which the society of our own country is far less +scrupulous and proper. + + + + +LETTER LII. + + SIENNA--POGGIOBONSI--BONCONVENTO--ENCOURAGEMENT OF FRENCH + ARTISTS BY THEIR GOVERNMENT--ACQUAPENDENTE--POOR BEGGAR, THE + ORIGINAL OF A SKETCH BY COLE--BOLSENA--VOLSCENIUM--SCENERY-- + CURIOUS STATE OF THE CHESTNUT WOODS. + + +SIENNA.--A day and a half on my second journey to Rome. With a party +of four nations inside, and two strangers, probably Frenchmen, in the +cabriolet, we have jogged on at some three miles in the hour, enjoying +the lovely scenery of these lower Appenines at our leisure. We slept +last night at Poggiobonsi, a little village on a hill-side, and +arrived at Sienna for our mid-day rest. I pencil this note after an +hour's ramble over the city, visiting once more the cathedral, with +its encrusted marbles and naked graces, and the shell-shaped square in +the centre of the city, at the rim of which the eight principal +streets terminate. There is a fountain in the midst, surrounded with +_bassi relievi_ much disfigured. It was mentioned by Dante. The +streets were deserted, it being Sunday, and all the people at the +Corso, to see the racing of horses without riders. + +BONCONVENTO.--We sit, with the remains of a traveller's supper on the +table--six very social companions. Our cabriolet friends are two +French artists, on their way to study at Rome. They are both +pensioners of the government, each having gained the annual prize at +the academy in his separate branch of art, which entitles him to five +years' support in Italy. They are full of enthusiasm, and converse +with all the amusing vivacity of their nation. The academy of France +send out in this manner five young men annually, who have gained the +prizes for painting, sculpture, architecture, music, and engraving. + +This is the place where Henry the Seventh of Germany was poisoned by a +monk, on his way to Rome. The drug was given to him in the communion +cup. The "Ave Marie" was ringing when we drove into town, and I left +the carriage and followed the crowd, in the hope of finding an old +church where the crime might have been committed. But the priest was +mumbling the service in a new chapel, which no romance that I could +summon would picture as the scene of a tragedy. + + * * * * * + +ACQUAPENDENTE.--While the dirty customhouse officer is deciphering our +passports, in a hole a dog would live in unwillingly, I take out my +pencil to mark once more the pleasure I have received from the +exquisite scenery of this place. The wild rocks enclosing the little +narrow valley below, the waterfalls, the town on its airy perch above, +the just starting vegetation of spring, the roads lined with +snowdrops, crocuses and violets, have renewed, in a tenfold degree, +the delight with which I saw this romantic spot on my former journey +to Rome. + +We crossed the mountain of Radicofani yesterday, in so thick a mist +that I could not even distinguish the ruin of the old castle, towering +into the clouds above. The wild, half-naked people thronged about us +as before, and I gave another paul to the old beggar with whom I +became acquainted by Mr. Cole's graphic sketch. The winter had, +apparently, gone hard with him. He was scarce able to come to the +carriage window, and coughed so hollowly that I thought he had nearly +begged his last pittance. + +BOLSENA.--we walked in advance of the vetturino along the borders of +this lovely and beautiful lake till we are tired. Our artists have +taken off their coats with the heat, and sit, a quarter of a mile +further on, pointing in every direction at these unparalleled views. +The water is as still as a mirror, with a soft mist on its face, and +the water-fowl in thousands are diving and floating within gunshot of +us. An afternoon in June could not be more summer-like, and this, to a +lover of soft climate, is no trifling pleasure. + +A mile behind us lies the town, the seat of ancient _Volscinium_, the +capital of the Volscians. The country about is one quarry of ruins, +mouldering away in the moss. Nobody can live in health in the +neighborhood, and the poor pale wretches who call it a home are in +melancholy contrast to the smiling paradise about them. Before us, in +the bosom of the lake, lie two green islands, those which Pliny +records to have floated in his time and one of which, _Martana_, a +small conical isle, was the scene of the murder of the queen of the +Goths, by her cousin Theodatus. She was taken there and strangled. It +is difficult to imagine, with such a sea of sunshine around and over +it, that it was ever anything but a spot of delight. + +The whole neighborhood is covered with rotten trunks of trees--a thing +which at first surprised me in a country where wood is so economised. +It is accounted for in the French guide-book of one of our party by +the fact, that the chestnut woods of Bolsena are considered sacred by +the people, from their antiquity, and are never cut. The trees have +ripened and fallen and rotted thus for centuries--one cause, perhaps, +of the deadly change in the air. + +The vetturino comes lumbering up, and I must pocket my pencil and +remount. + + + + +LETTER LIII. + + MONTEFIASCONE--ANECDOTE OF THE WINE--VITERBO--MOUNT + CIMINO--TRADITION--VIEW OF ST. PETER'S--ENTRANCE INTO ROME--A + STRANGER'S IMPRESSIONS OF THE CITY. + + +MONTEFIASCONE.--We have stopped for the night at the hotel of this +place, so renowned for its wine--the remnant of a bottle of which +stands, at this moment, twinkling between me and my French companions. +The ladies of our party have gone to bed, and left us in the room +where sat _Jean Defoucris_, the merry German monk, who died of excess +in drinking the same liquor that flashes through this straw-covered +flask. The story is told more fully in the French guide-books. A +prelate of Augsbourg, on a pilgrimage to Rome, sent forward his +servant with orders to mark every tavern where the wine was good with +the word _est_, in large letters of chalk. On arriving at this hotel, +the monk saw the signal thrice written over the door--_Est! Est! Est!_ +He put up his mule, and drank of Montefiascone till he died. His +servant wrote his epitaph, which is still seen in the church of St. +Florian:-- + + "Propter minium EST, EST, + Dominus meus mortuus EST!" + +"_Est, Est, Est!_" is the motto upon the sign of the hotel to this +day. + + * * * * * + +In wandering about Viterbo in search of amusement, while the horses +were baiting, I stumbled upon the shop of an antiquary. After looking +over his medals, Etruscan vases, cameos, &c., a very interesting +collection, I inquired into the state of trade for such things in +Viterbo. He was a cadaverous, melancholy looking old man, with his +pockets worn quite out with the habit of thrusting his hands into +them, and about his mouth and eye there was the proper virtuoso +expression of inquisitiveness and discrimination. He kept also a small +_café_ adjoining his shop, into which we passed, as he shrugged his +shoulders at my question. I had wondered to find a vender of costly +curiosities in a town of such poverty, and I was not surprised at the +sad fortunes which had followed upon his enterprise. They were a base +herd, he said, of the people, utterly ignorant of the value of the +precious objects he had for sale and he had been compelled to open a +_café_, and degrade himself by waiting on them for a contemptible +_crazie_ worth of coffee, while his lovely antiquities lay +unappreciated within. The old gentleman was eloquent upon his +misfortunes. He had not been long in trade, and had collected his +museum originally for his own amusement. He was an odd specimen, in a +small way, of a man who was quite above his sphere, and suffered for +his superiority. I bought a pretty _intaglio_, and bade him farewell, +after an hour's acquaintance, with quite the feeling of a friend. + + * * * * * + +Mount Cimino rose before us soon after leaving Viterbo, and we walked +up most of the long and gentle ascent, inhaling the odor of the spicy +plants for which it is famous, and looking out sharply for the +brigands with which it is always infested. English carriages are +constantly robbed on this part of the route of late. The robbers are +met usually in parties of ten and twelve, and, a week before we +passed, Lady Berwick (the widow of an English nobleman, and a sister +of the famous Harriet Wilson) was stopped and plundered in broad +mid-day. The excessive distress among the peasantry of these +misgoverned States accounts for these things, and one only wonders why +there is not even more robbing among such a starving population. This +mountain, by the way, and the pretty lake below it, are spoken of in +the Æneid: "_Cimini cum monte locum_," etc. There is an ancient +tradition, that in the crescent-shaped valley which the lake fills, +there was formerly a city, which was overwhelmed by the rise of the +water, and certain authors state that when the lake is clear, the +ruins are still to be seen at the bottom. + + * * * * * + +The sun rose upon us as we reached the mountain above Baccano, on the +sixth day of our journey, and, by its clear golden flood, we saw the +dome of St. Peter's, at a distance of sixteen miles, towering amid the +campagna in all its majestic beauty. We descended into the vast plain, +and traversed its gentle undulations for two or three hours. With the +forenoon well advanced, we turned into the valley of the Tiber, and +saw the home of Raphael, a noble chateau on the side of a hill, near +the river, and, in the little plain between, the first peach-trees we +had seen, in full blossom. The tomb of Nero is on one side of the +road, before crossing the Tiber, and on the other a newly painted and +staring _restaurant_, where the modern Roman cockneys drive for punch +and ices. The bridge of Pontemolle, by which we passed into the +immediate suburb of Rome, was the ancient _Pons Æmilius_, and here +Cicero arrested the conspirators on their way to join Catiline in his +camp. It was on the same bridge, too, that Constantine saw his famous +vision, and gained his victory over the tyrant Maxentius. + +Two miles over the _Via Flaminia_, between garden walls that were +ornamented with sculpture and inscription in the time of Augustus, +brought us to the _Porta del Popolo_. The square within this noble +gate is modern, but very imposing. Two streets diverge before you, as +far away as you can see into the heart of the city, a magnificent +fountain sends up its waters in the centre, the façades of two +handsome churches face you as you enter, and on the right and left are +gardens and palaces of princely splendor. Gay and sumptuous equipages +cross it in every direction, driving out to the villa Borghese, and up +to the Pincian mount, the splendid troops of the Pope are on guard, +and the busy and stirring population of modern Rome swell out to its +limit like the ebb and flow of the sea. All this disappoints while it +impresses the stranger. He has come to Rome--but it was _old_ Rome +that he had pictured to his fancy. The Forum, the ruins of her +temples, the palaces of her emperors, the homes of her orators, poets, +and patriots, the majestic relics of the once mistress of the world, +are the features in his anticipation. But he enters by a modern gate +to a modern square, and pays his modern coin to a whiskered officer of +customs; and in the place of a venerable Belisarius begging an obolus +in classic Latin, he is beset by a troop of lusty and filthy +lazzaroni entreating for a _baioch_ in the name of the Madonna, and in +effeminate Italian. He drives down the Corso, and reads nothing but +French signs, and sees all the familiar wares of his own country +exposed for sale, and every other person on the _pave_ is an +Englishman, with a narrow-rimmed hat and whalebone stick, and with an +hour at the Dogama, where his baggage is turned inside out by a snuffy +old man who speaks French, and a reception at a hotel where the porter +addresses him in his own language, whatever it may be; he goes to bed +under Parisian curtains, and tries to dream of the Rome he could not +realize while awake. + + + + +LETTER LIV. + + APPIAN WAY--TOMB OF CECILIA METELLA--ALBANO--TOMB OF THE + CURIATII--ARICIA--TEMPLE OF DIANA--FOUNTAIN OF EGERIA--LAKE OF + NEMI--VELLETRI--PONTINE MARSHES--CONVENT--CANAL--TERRACINA-- + SAN FELICE--FONDI--STORY OF JULIA GONZAGA--CICERO'S GARDEN AND + TOMB--MOLA--MINTURNA--RUINS OF AN AMPHITHEATRE AND TEMPLE-- + FALERNIAN MOUNT AND WINE--THE DOCTOR OF ST. AGATHA--CAPUA-- + ENTRANCE INTO NAPLES--THE QUEEN. + + +With the intention of returning to Rome for the ceremonies of the holy +week, I have merely passed through on my way to Naples. We left it the +morning after our arrival, going by the "Appian way" to mount Albano, +which borders the Campagna on the south, at a distance of fifteen +miles. This celebrated road is lined with the ruined tombs of the +Romans. Off at the right, some four or five miles from the city, rises +the fortress-like _tomb of Cecilia Metella_, so exquisitely mused upon +by Childe Harold. This, says Sismondi, with the tombs of Adrian and +Augustus, became fortresses of banditti, in the thirteenth century, +and were taken by Brancallone, the Bolognese governor of Rome, who +hanged the marauders from the walls. It looks little like "a woman's +grave." + +We changed horses at the pretty village of Albano, and, on leaving it, +passed an ancient mausoleum, believed to be the tomb of the Curiatii +who fought the Horatii on this spot. It is a large structure, and had +originally four pyramids on the corners, two of which only remain. + +A mile from Albano lies Aricia, in a country of the loveliest rural +beauty. Here was the famous temple of Diana, and here were the lake +and grove sacred to the "virgin huntress," and consecrated as her home +by peculiar worship. The fountain of Egeria is here, where Numa +communed with the nymph, and the lake of Nemi, on the borders of which +the temple stood, and which was called _Diana's mirror_ (_speculum +Dianæ_), is at this day, perhaps, one of the sweetest gems of natural +scenery in the world. + +We slept at Velletri, a pretty town of some twelve thousand +inhabitants, which stands on a hill-side, leaning down to the Pontine +marshes. It was one of the grand days of carnival, and the streets +were full of masks, walking up and down in their ridiculous dresses, +and committing every sort of foolery. The next morning, by daylight, +we were upon the Pontine marshes, the long thirty miles level of which +we passed in an unbroken trot, one part of a day's journey of +seventy-five miles, done by the _same horses_, at the rate of six +miles in the hour! They are small, compact animals, and look in good +condition, though they do as much habitually. + +At a distance of fifteen miles from Velletri, we passed a convent, +which is built opposite the spot where St. Paul was met by his +friends, on his journey from the seaside to Rome. The canal upon which +Horace embarked on his celebrated journey to Brundusium, runs +parallel with the road for its whole distance. This marshy desert is +inhabited by a race of as wretched beings, perhaps, as are to be found +upon the face of the earth. The pestiferous miasma of the pools is +certain destruction to health, and the few who are needed at the +distant post-houses, crawl out to the road-side like so many victims +from a pest-house, stooping with weakness, hollow-eyed, and apparently +insensible to everything. The feathered race seems exempt from its +influence, and the quantities of game of every known description are +incredible. The ground was alive with wild geese, turkeys, pigeons, +plover, ducks, and numerous birds we did not know, as far as the eye +could distinguish. The travelling books caution against sleeping in +the carriage while passing these marshes, but we found it next to +impossible to resist the heavy drowsiness of the air. + +At Terracina the marshes end, and the long avenue of elms terminates +at the foot of a romantic precipice, which is washed by the +Mediterranean. The town is most picturesquely built between the rocky +wall and the sea. We dined with the hollow murmur of the surf in our +ears, and then, presenting our passports, entered the kingdom of +Naples. This Terracina, by the way, was the ancient _Anxur_, which +Horace describes in his line-- + + "Impositum late saxis candentibus Anxur." + +For twenty or thirty miles before arriving at Terracina, we had seen +before us the headland of Circoeum, lying like a mountain island off +the shore. It is usually called San Felice, from the small town seated +upon it. This was the ancient abode of the "daughter of the sun," and +here were imprisoned, according to Homer, the champions of Ulysses, +after their metamorphoses. + +From Terracina to Fondi, we followed the old Appian way, a road hedged +with flowering myrtles and orange trees laden with fruit. Fondi itself +is dirtier than imagination could picture it, and the scowling men in +the streets look like myrmidons of Fra Diavolo, their celebrated +countryman. This town, however, was the scene of the romantic story of +the beautiful Julia Gonzaga, and was destroyed by the corsair +Barbarossa, who had intended to present the rarest beauty of Italy to +the Sultan. It was to the rocky mountains above the town that she +escaped in her night-dress, and lay concealed till the pirate's +departure. + +In leaving Fondi, we passed the ruined walls of a garden said to have +belonged to Cicero, whose tomb is only three leagues distant. Night +came on before we reached the tomb, and we were compelled to promise +ourselves a pilgrimage to it on our return. + +We slept at Mola, and here Cicero was assassinated. The ruins of his +country-house are still here. The town lies in the lap of a graceful +bay, and in all Italy, it is said, there is no spot more favored by +nature. The mountains shelter it from the winds of the north; the soil +produces, spontaneously, the orange, the myrtle, the olive, delicious +grapes, jasmine, and many odoriferous herbs. This and its neighborhood +was called, by the great orator and statesman who selected it for his +retreat, "the most beautiful patrimony of the Romans." The +Mediterranean spreads out from its bosom, the lovely islands near +Naples bound its view, Vesuvius sends up its smoke and fire in the +south, and back from its hills stretches a country fertile and +beautiful as a paradise. This is a place of great resort for the +English and other travellers in the summer. The old palaces are turned +into hotels, and we entered our inn through an avenue of shrubs that +must have been planted and trimmed for a century. + + * * * * * + +We left Mola before dawn and crossed the small river Garigliano as the +sun rose. A short distance from the southern bank, we found ourselves +in the midst of ruins, the golden beams of the sun pouring upon us +through the arches of some once magnificent structure, whose area is +now crossed by the road. This was the ancient Minturna, and the ruins +are those of an amphitheatre, and a temple of Venus. Some say that it +was in the marshes about the now waste city, that the soldier sent by +Sylla to kill Marius, found the old hero, and, struck with his noble +mien, fell with respect at his feet. + +The road soon enters a chain of hills, and the scenery becomes +enchanting. At the left of the first ascent lies the Falernian mount, +whose wines are immortalized by Horace. It is a beautiful hill, which +throws round its shoulder to the south, and is covered with vineyards. +I dismounted and walked on while the horses breathed at the post-house +of St. Agatha, and was overtaken by a good-natured-looking man, +mounted on a mule, of whom I made some inquiry respecting the modern +Falernian. He said it was still the best wine of the neighborhood, but +was far below its ancient reputation, because never kept long enough +to ripen. It is at its prime from the fifteenth to the twentieth year, +and is usually drank the first or second. My new acquaintance, I soon +found, was the physician of the two or three small villages nested +about among the hills and a man of some pretensions to learning. I was +delighted with his frank good-humor, and a certain spice of drollery +in his description of his patients. The peasants at work in the fields +saluted him from any distance as he passed; and the pretty contadini +going to St. Agatha with their baskets on their heads, smiled as he +nodded, calling them all by name, and I was rather amused than +offended with the inquisitiveness he manifested about my age, family, +pursuits, and even morals. His mule stopped of its own will, at the +door of the apothecary of the small village on the summit of the hill, +and as the carriage came in sight the doctor invited me, seizing my +hand with a look of friendly sincerity, to stop at St. Agatha on my +return, to shoot, and drink Falernian with him for a month. The +apothecary stopped the vetturino at the door; and, to the astonishment +of my companions within, the doctor seized me in his arms and kissed +me on both sides of my face with a volume of blessings and +compliments, which I had no breath in my surprise to return. I have +made many friends on the road in this country of quick feelings, but +the doctor of St. Agatha had a readiness of sympathy which threw all +my former experience into the shade. + +We dined at Capua, the city whose luxuries enervated Hannibal and his +soldiers--the "_dives, amorosa, felix_" Capua. It is in melancholy +contrast with the description now--its streets filthy, and its people +looking the antipodes of luxury. The climate should be the same, as we +dined with open doors, and with the branch of an orange tree heavy +with fruit hanging in at the window, in a month that with us is one of +the wintriest. + +From Capua to Naples, the distance is but fifteen miles, over a flat, +uninteresting country. We entered "this third city in the world" in +the middle of the afternoon, and were immediately surrounded with +beggars of every conceivable degree of misery. We sat an hour at the +gate while our passports were recorded, and the vetturino examined, +and then passing up a noble street, entered a dense crowd, through +which was creeping slowly a double line of carriages. The mounted +dragoons compelled our postillion to fall into the line, and we were +two hours following in a fashionable corso with our mud-spattered +vehicle and tired horses, surrounded by all that was brilliant and gay +in Naples. It was the last day of carnival. Everybody was abroad, and +we were forced, however unwillingly to see all the rank and beauty of +the city. The carriages in this fine climate are all open, and the +ladies were in full dress. As we entered the Toledo, the cavalcade +came to a halt, and with hats off and handkerchiefs flying in every +direction about them, the young new-married Queen of Naples rode up +the middle of the street preceded and followed by outriders in the +gayest livery. She has been married about a month, is but seventeen, +and is acknowledged to be the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. The +description I had heard of her, though very extravagant, had hardly +done her justice. She is a little above the middle height, with a fine +lift to her head and neck, and a countenance only less modest and +maidenly than noble. + + + + +LETTER LV. + + ROME--FRONT OF ST. PETER'S--EQUIPAGES OF THE CARDINALS-- + BEGGARS--BODY OF THE CHURCH--TOMB OF ST. PETER--THE + TIBER--FORTRESS-TOMB OF ADRIAN--JEWS' QUARTER--FORUM BARBERINI + PALACE--PORTRAIT OF BEATRICE CENCI--HER MELANCHOLY + HISTORY--PICTURE OF THE FORNARINA--LIKENESS OF GIORGIONE'S + MISTRESS--JOSEPH AND POTIPHAR'S WIFE--THE PALACES DORIA AND + SCIARRA--PORTRAIT OF OLIVIA WALDACHINI--OF "A CELEBRATED + WIDOW"--OF SEMIRAMIS--CLAUDE'S LANDSCAPES--BRILL'S-- + BRUGHEL'S--NOTTI'S "WOMAN CATCHING FLEAS"--DA VINCI'S QUEEN + GIOVANNA--PORTRAIT OF A FEMALE DORIA--PRINCE DORIA--PALACE + SCIARRA--BRILL AND BOTH'S LANDSCAPES--CLAUDE'S--PICTURE OF + NOAH INTOXICATED--ROMANA'S FORNARINA--DA VINCI'S TWO PICTURES. + + +Drawn in twenty different directions on starting from my lodgings this +morning, I found myself, undecided where to pass my day, in front of +St. Peter's. Some gorgeous ceremony was just over, and the sumptuous +equipages of the cardinals, blazing in the sun with their mountings of +gold and silver, were driving up and dashing away from the end of the +long colonnades, producing any effect upon the mind rather than a +devout one. I stood admiring their fiery horses and gay liveries, till +the last rattled from the square, and then mounted to the deserted +church. Its vast vestibule was filled with beggars, diseased in every +conceivable manner, halting, groping, and crawling about in search of +strangers of whom to implore charity--a contrast to the splendid +pavement beneath and the gold and marble above and around, which would +reconcile one to see the "mighty dome" melted into alms, and his +holiness reduced to a plain chapel and a rusty cassock. + +Lifting the curtain I stood in the body of the church. There were +perhaps twenty persons, at different distances, on its immense floor, +the farthest off (_six hundred and fourteen feet from me!_) looking +like a pigmy in the far perspective. St. Peter's is less like a church +than a collection of large churches enclosed under a gigantic roof. +The chapels at the sides are larger than most houses of public worship +in our country, and of these there may be eight or ten, not included +in the effect of the vast interior. One is lost in it. It is a city of +columns and sculpture and mosaic. Its walls are encrusted with +precious stones and masterly workmanship to the very top, and its +wealth may be conceived when you remember that, standing in the centre +and raising your eyes aloft, there are _four hundred and forty feet_ +between you and the roof of the dome--the height, almost of a +mountain. + +I walked up toward the tomb of St. Peter, passing in my way a solitary +worshipper here and there, upon his knees, and arrested constantly by +the exquisite beauty of the statuary with which the columns are +carved. Accustomed as we are in America, to churches filled with +pews, it is hardly possible to imagine the noble effect of a vast +mosaic floor, unencumbered even with a chair, and only broken by a few +prostrate figures, just specking its wide area. All Catholic churches +are without fixed seats, and St. Peter's seems scarce measurable to +the eye, it is so far and clear, from one extremity to the other. + +I passed the hundred lamps burning over the tomb of St. Peter, the +lovely female statue (covered with a bronze drapery, because its +exquisite beauty was thought dangerous to the morality of the young +priests), reclining upon the tomb of Paul III., the ethereal figures +of Canova's geniuses weeping at the door of the tomb of the Stuarts +(where sleeps the pretender Charles Edward), the thousand thousand +rich and beautiful monuments of art and taste crowding every corner of +this wondrous church--I passed them, I say, with the same lost and +unexamining, unparticularizing feeling which I cannot overcome in this +place--a mind borne quite off its feet and confused and overwhelmed +with the tide of astonishment--the one grand impression of the whole. +I dare say, a little more familiarity with St. Peter's will do away +the feeling, but I left the church, after two hours loitering in its +aisles, despairing, and scarce wishing to examine or make a note. + +Those beautiful fountains, moistening the air over the whole area of +the column encircled front!--and that tall Egyptian pyramid, sending +up its slender and perfect spire between! One lingers about, and turns +again and again to gaze around him, as he leaves St. Peter's, in +wonder and admiration. + +I crossed the Tiber, at the fortress-tomb of Adrian, and thridding the +long streets at the western end of Rome, passed through the Jews' +quarter, and entered the Forum. The sun lay warm among the ruins of +the great temples and columns of ancient Rome, and, seating myself on +a fragment of an antique frieze, near the noble arch of Septimius +Severus, I gazed on the scene, for the first time, by daylight. I had +been in Rome, on my first visit, during the full moon, and my +impressions of the Forum with this romantic enhancement were vivid in +my memory. One would think it enough to be upon the spot at any time, +with light to see it, but what with modern excavations, fresh banks of +earth, carts, boys playing at marbles, and wooden sentry-boxes, and +what with the Parisian promenade, made by the French through the +centre, the imagination is too disturbed and hindered in daylight. The +moon gives it all one covering of gray and silver. The old columns +stand up in all their solitary majesty, wrecks of beauty and taste; +silence leaves the fancy to find a voice for itself; and from the +palaces of the Cesars to the prisons of the capitol, the whole train +of emperors, senators, conspirators, and citizens, are summoned with +but half a thought and the magic glass is filled with moving and +re-animated Rome. There, beneath those walls, on the right, in the +Mamertine prisons, perished Jugurtha (and there, too, were imprisoned +St. Paul and St. Peter), and opposite, upon the Palatine-hill, lived +the mighty masters of Rome, in the "palaces of the Cesars," and +beneath the majestic arch beyond, were led, as a seal of their +slavery, the captives from Jerusalem, and in these temples, whose +ruins cast their shadows at my feet, walked and discoursed Cicero and +the philosophers, Brutus and the patriots, Catiline and the +conspirators, Augustus and the scholars and poets, and the great +stranger in Rome, St. Paul, gazing at the false altars, and burning in +his heart to reveal to them the "unknown God." What men have crossed +the shadows of these very columns! and what thoughts, that have moved +the world, have been born beneath them! + +The Barberini palace contains three or four masterpieces of painting. +The most celebrated is the portrait of Beatrice Cenci, by Guido. The +melancholy and strange history of this beautiful girl has been told in +a variety of ways, and is probably familiar to every reader. Guido saw +her on her way to execution, and has painted her as she was dressed, +in the gray habit and head-dress made by her own hands, and finished +but an hour before she put it on. There are engravings and copies of +the picture all over the world, but none that I have seen give any +idea of the excessive gentleness and serenity of the countenance. The +eyes retain traces of weeping, but the child-like mouth, the soft, +girlish lines of features that look as if they never had worn more +than the one expression of youthfulness and affection, are all in +repose, and the head is turned over the shoulder with as simple a +sweetness as if she had but looked back to say a good-night before +going to her chamber to sleep. She little looks like what she was--one +of the firmest and boldest spirits whose history is recorded. After +murdering her father for his fiendish attempts upon her virtue, she +endured every torture rather than disgrace her family by confession, +and was only moved from her constancy, at last, by the agonies of her +younger brother on the rack. Who would read capabilities like these, +in these heavenly and child-like features? + +I have tried to purchase the life of the Cenci, in vain. A bookseller +told me to-day, that it was a forbidden book, on account of its +reflections upon the pope. Immense interest was made for the poor +girl, but, it is said, the papal treasury ran low, and if she was +pardoned, the large possessions of the Cenci family could not have +been confiscated. + +The gallery contains also, a delicious picture of the Fornarina by +Raphael himself, and a portrait of Giorgione's mistress, as a +Carthaginian slave, the same head multiplied so often in his and +Titian's pictures. The original of the admirable picture of Joseph and +the wife of Potiphar, is also here. A copy of it is in the gallery of +Florence. + +I have passed a day between the two palaces Doria and Sciarra, nearly +opposite each other in the Corso at Rome. The first is an immense +gallery of perhaps a thousand pictures, distributed through seven +large halls, and four galleries encircling the court. In the first +four rooms I found nothing that struck me particularly. In the fifth +was a portrait, by an unknown artist, of Olivia Waldachini, the +favorite and sister-in-law of Pope Innocent X., a handsome woman, with +that round fulness in the throat and neck, which (whether it existed +in the originals, or is a part of a painter's ideal of a woman of +pleasure), is universal in portraits of that character. In the same +room was a portrait of a "celebrated widow," by Vandyck,[7] a had-been +beautiful woman, in a staid cap (the hands wonderfully painted), and a +large and rich picture of Semiramis, by one of the Carraccis. + +In the galleries hung the landscapes by Claude, famous through the +world. It is like roving through a paradise, to sit and look at them. +His broad green lawns, his half-hidden temples, his life-like +luxuriant trees, his fountains, his sunny streams--all flush into the +eye like the bright opening of a Utopia, or some dream over a +description from Boccaccio. It is what Italy might be in a golden +age--her ruins rebuilt into the transparent air, her woods unprofaned, +her people pastoral and refined, and every valley a landscape of +Arcadia. I can conceive no higher pleasure for the imagination than to +see a Claude in travelling through Italy. It is finding a home for +one's more visionary fancies--those children of moonshine that one +begets in a colder clime, but scarce dares acknowledge till he has +seen them under a more congenial sky. More plainly, one does not know +whether his abstract imaginations of pastoral life and scenery are not +ridiculous and unreal, till he has seen one of these landscapes, and +felt _steeped_, if I may use such a word, in the very loveliness which +inspired the pencil of the painter. There he finds the pastures, the +groves, the fairy structures, the clear waters, the straying groups, +the whole delicious scenery, as bright as in his dreams, and he feels +as if he should bless the artist for the liberty to acknowledge freely +to himself the possibility of so beautiful a world. + +We went on through the long galleries, going back again and again to +see the Claudes. In the third division of the gallery were one or two +small and bright landscapes, by Brill, that would have enchanted us if +seen elsewhere; and four strange pictures, by Breughel, representing +the four elements, by a kind of half-poetical, half-supernatural +landscapes, one of which had a very lovely view of a distant village. +Then there was the famous picture of the "woman catching fleas" by +Gherardodelle Notti, a perfect piece of life. She stands close to a +lamp, with a vessel of hot water before her, and is just closing her +thumb and finger over a flea, which she has detected on the bosom of +her dress. Some eight or ten are boiling already in the water, and the +expression upon the girl's face is that of the most grave and +unconscious interest in her employment. Next to this amusing picture +hangs a portrait of Queen Giovanna, of Naples, by Leonardo da Vinci, a +copy of which I had seen, much prized, in the possession of the +archbishop of Torento. It scarce looks like the talented and ambitious +queen she was, but it does full justice to her passion for amorous +intrigue--a face full of the woman. + +The last picture we came to, was one not even mentioned in the +catalogue, an old portrait of one of the females of the Doria family. +It was a girl of eighteen, with a kind of face that in life must have +been extremely fascinating. While we were looking at it, we heard a +kind of gibbering laugh from the outer apartment, and an old man in a +cardinal's dress, dwarfish in size, and with deformed and almost +useless legs, came shuffling into the gallery, supported by two +priests. His features were imbecility itself, rendered almost horrible +by the contrast of the cardinal's red cap. The _custode_ took off his +hat and bowed low, and the old man gave us a half-bow and a long laugh +in passing, and disappeared at the end of the gallery. This was the +Prince Doria, the owner of the palace, and a cardinal of Rome! the +sole remaining representative of one of the most powerful and +ambitious families of Italy! There could not be a more affecting type +of the great "mistress of the world" herself. Her very children have +dwindled into idiots. + +We crossed the Corso to the _Palace Sciarra_. The collection here is +small, but choice. Half a dozen small but exquisite landscapes, by +Brill and Both, grace the second room. Here are also three small +Claudes, very, very beautiful. In the next room is a finely-colored +but most indecent picture of Noah intoxicated, by Andrea Sacchi, and a +portrait by Giulio Romano, of Raphael's celebrated Fornarina, to +whose lovely face one becomes so accustomed in Italy, that it seems +like that of an acquaintance. + +In the last room are two of the most celebrated pictures in Rome. The +first is by Leonardo da Vinci, and represents Vanity and Modesty, by +two females standing together in conversation--one a handsome, gay, +volatile looking creature, covered with ornaments, and listening +unwillingly to what seems a lecture from the other, upon her foibles. +The face of the other is a heavenly conception of woman--earnest, +delicate, and lovely--the idea one forms to himself, before +intercourse with the world, gives him a distaste for its purity. The +moral lesson of the picture is more forcible than language. The +painter deserved to have died, as he did, in the arms of an emperor. + +The other picture represents two gamblers cheating a youth, a very +striking picture of nature. It is common from the engravings. On the +opposite side of the room, is a very expressive picture, by Schidone. +On the ruins of an old tomb stands a skull, beneath which is +written--"_I, too, was of Arcadia_;" and, at a little distance, gazing +at it in attitudes of earnest reflection, stand two shepherds, struck +simultaneously with the moral. It is a poetical thought, and wrought +out with great truth and skill. + + * * * * * + +Our eyes aching and our attention exhausted with pictures, we drove +from the Sciarra to the ruined palaces of the Cesars. Here, on an +eminence above the Tiber, with the Forum beneath us on one side, the +Coliseum on the other, and all the towers and spires of modern and +Catholic Rome arising on her many hills beyond, we seated ourselves on +fragments of marble, half buried in the grass, and mused away the +hours till sunset. On this spot Romulus founded Rome. The princely +Augustus, in the last days of her glory, laid here the foundations of +his imperial palace, which, continued by Caligula and Tiberius, and +completed by Domitian, covered the hill, like a small city. It was a +labyrinth of temples, baths, pavilions, fountains, and gardens, with a +large theatre at the western extremity; and adjoining the temple of +Apollo, was a library filled with the best authors, and ornamented +with a colossal bronze statue of Apollo, "of excellent Etruscan +workmanship." "Statues of the fifty daughters of Danaus Siuramdert +surrounded the portico" (of this same temple), "and opposite them were +equestrian statues of their husbands." About a hundred years ago, +accident discovered, in the gardens buried in rubbish, a magnificent +hall, two hundred feet in length and one hundred and thirty-two in +breadth, supposed to have been built by Domitian. It was richly +ornamented with statues, and columns of precious marbles, and near it +were baths in excellent preservation. "But," says Stark, "immense and +superb as was this first-built palace of the Cesars, Nero, whose +extravagance and passion for architecture knew no limits, thought it +much too small for him, and extended its edifices and gardens from the +Palatine to the Esquiline. After the destruction of the whole, by +fire, sixty-five years after Christ, he added to it his celebrated +'Golden House,' which extended from one extremity to the other of the +Coelian Hill."[8] + +The ancient walls, which made the whole of the Mount Palatine a +fortress, still hold together its earth and its ruins. It is a broad +tabular eminence, worn into footpaths which wind at every moment +around broken shafts of marble, fragments of statuary, or broken and +ivy-covered fountains. Part of it is cultivated as a vineyard, by the +degenerate modern Romans, and the baths, into which the water still +pours from aqueducts encrusted with aged stalactites are public +washing-places for the contadini, eight or ten of whom were splashing +away in their red jackets, with gold bodkins in their hair, while we +were moralizing on their worthier progenitors of eighteen centuries +ago. It is a beautiful spot of itself, and with the delicious soft +sunshine of an Italian spring, the tall green grass beneath our feet, +and an air as soft as June just stirring the myrtles and jasmines, +growing wild wherever the ruins gave them place, our enjoyment of the +overpowering associations of the spot was ample and untroubled. I +could wish every refined spirit in the world had shared our pleasant +hour upon the Palatine. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[7] So called in the catalogue. The custode, however, told us it was a +portrait of the wife of Vandyck, painted as an old woman to mortify +her excessive vanity, when she was but twenty-three. He kept the +picture until she was older, and, at the time of his death, it had +become a flattering likeness, and was carefully treasured by the +widow. + +[8] The following description is given of this splendid palace, by +Suetonius. "To give an idea of the extent and beauty of this edifice, +it is sufficient to mention, that in its vestibule was placed his +colossal statue, one hundred and twenty feet in height. It had a +triple portico, supported by a thousand columns, with a lake like a +little sea, surrounded by buildings which resembled cities. It +contained pasture-grounds and groves in which were all descriptions of +animals, wild and tame. Its interior shone with gold, gems, and +mother-of-pearl. In the vaulted roofs of the eating-rooms were +machines of ivory, which turned round and scattered perfumes upon the +guests. The principal banqueting room was a rotunda, so constructed +that it turned round night and day, in imitation of the motion of the +earth." When Nero took possession of this fairy palace, his only +observation was--"Now I shall begin to live like a man." + + + + +LETTER LVI. + + ANNUAL DOWRIES TO TWELVE GIRLS--VESPERS IN THE CONVENT OF + SANTA TRINITA--RUINS OF ROMAN BATHS--A MAGNIFICENT MODERN + CHURCH WITHIN TWO ANCIENT HALLS--GARDENS OF MECÆNAS--TOWER + WHENCE NERO SAW ROME ON FIRE--HOUSES OF HORACE AND + VIRGIL--BATHS OF TITUS AND CARACALLA. + + +The yearly ceremony of giving dowries to twelve girls, was performed +by the Pope, this morning, in the church built over the ancient temple +of Minerva. His Holiness arrived, in state, from the Vatican, at ten, +followed by his red troop of cardinals, and preceded by a clerical +courier, on a palfrey, and the body-guard of nobles. He blessed the +crowd, right and left, with his three fingers (precisely as a Parisian +dandy salutes his friend across the street), and, descending from his +carriage (which is like a good-sized glass boudoir upon wheels), he +was received in the papal sedan, and carried into the church by his +Swiss bearers. My legation button carried me through the guard, and I +found an excellent place under a cardinal's wing, in the penetralia +within the railing of the altar. Mass commenced presently, with a +chant from the celebrated choir of St. Peter's. Room was then made +through the crowd, the cardinals put on their red caps, and the small +procession of twelve young girls entered from a side chapel, bearing +each a taper in her hand, and robed to the eyes in white, with a +chaplet of flowers round the forehead. I could form no judgment of +anything but their eyes and feet. A Roman eye could not be otherwise +than fine, and a Roman woman's foot could scarce be other than ugly, +and, consequently, there was but one satin slipper in the group that a +man might not have worn, and every eye I could see from my position, +might have graced an improvisatrice. They stopped in front of the +throne, and, giving their long tapers to the servitors, mounted in +couples, hand in hand, and kissed the foot of his Holiness, who, at +the same time, leaned over and blessed them, and then turning about, +walked off again behind the altar in the same order in which they had +entered. + +The choir now struck up their half-unearthly chant (a music so +strangely shrill and clear, that I scarce know whether the sensation +is pleasure or pain), the Pope was led from his throne to his sedan, +and his mitre changed for a richly jewelled crown, the bearers lifted +their burden, the guard presented arms, the cardinals summoned their +officious servants to unrobe, and the crowd poured out as it came. + +This ceremony, I found upon inquiry, is performed every year, _on the +day of the annunciation_--just nine months before Christmas, and is +intended to commemorate the incarnation of our Saviour. + + * * * * * + +As I was returning from a twilight stroll upon the Pincian hill this +evening, the bells of the convent of Santa Trinita rung to vespers. I +had heard of the singing of the nuns in the service at the convent +chapel, but the misbehavior of a party of English had excluded +foreigners, of late, and it was thought impossible to get admittance. +I mounted the steps, however, and rung at the door. It was opened by a +pale nun, of thirty, who hesitated a moment, and let me pass. In a +small, plain chapel within, the service of the altar was just +commencing, and, before I reached a seat, a low plaintive chant +commenced, in female voices from the choir. It went on with occasional +interruptions from the prayers, for perhaps an hour. I can not +describe the excessive mournfulness of the music. One or two familiar +hymns occurred in the course of it, like airs in a recitative, the +same sung in our churches, but the effect was totally different. The +neat, white caps of the nuns were just visible over the railing before +the organ, and, as I looked up at them and listened to their +melancholy notes, they seemed, to me, mourning over their exclusion +from the world. The small white cloud from the censer mounted to the +ceiling, and creeping away through the arches, hung over the organ +till it was lost to the eye in the dimness of the twilight. It was +easy, under the influence of their delightful music, to imagine within +it the wings of that tranquilizing resignation, one would think so +necessary to keep down the heart in these lonely cloisters. + + * * * * * + +The most considerable ruins of ancient Rome are those of the _Baths_. +The Emperors Titus, Caracalla, Nero, and Agrippa, constructed these +immense places of luxury, and the remains of them are among the most +interesting and beautiful relics to be found in the world. It is +possible that my readers have as imperfect an idea of the extent of a +Roman bath as I have had, and I may as well quote from the information +given by writers on antiquities. "They were open every day, to both +sexes. In each of the great baths, there were sixteen hundred seats of +marble, for the convenience of the bathers, and three thousand two +hundred persons could bathe at the same time. There were splendid +porticoes in front for promenade, arcades with shops, in which was +found every kind of luxury for the bath, and halls for corporeal +exercises, and for the discussion of philosophy; and here the poets +read their productions and rhetoricians harangued, and sculptors and +painters exhibited their works to the public. The baths were +distributed into grand halls, with ceilings enormously high and +painted with admirable frescoes, supported on columns of the rarest +marble, and the basins were of oriental alabaster, porphyry, and +jasper. There were in the centre vast reservoirs, for the swimmers, +and crowds of slaves to attend gratuitously upon all who should come." + +The baths of Diocletian (which I visited to-day), covered an enormous +space. They occupied seven years in building, and were the work of +_forty thousand Christian slaves, two thirds of whom died of fatigue +and misery_! Mounting one of the seven hills of Rome, we come to some +half-ruined arches, of enormous size, extending a long distance, in +the sides of which were built two modern churches. One was the work of +Michael Angelo, and one of his happiest efforts. He has turned two of +the ancient halls into a magnificent church, in the shape of a Greek +cross, leaving in their places eight gigantic columns of granite. +After St. Peter's it is the most imposing church in Rome. + +We drove thence to the baths of Titus, passing the site of the +ancient gardens of Mecænas, in which still stands the tower from which +Nero beheld the conflagration of Rome. The houses of Horace and Virgil +communicated with this garden, but they are now undistinguishable. We +turned up from the Coliseum to the left, and entered a gate leading to +the baths of Titus. Five or six immense arches presented their front +to us, in a state of picturesque ruin. We took a guide, and a long +pole, with a lamp at the extremity, and descended to the subterranean +halls, to see the still inimitable frescoes upon the ceilings. Passing +through vast apartments, to the ruined walls of which still clung, +here and there, pieces of the finely-colored stucco of the ancients, +we entered a suite of long galleries, some forty feet high, the arched +roofs of which were painted with the most exquisite art, in a kind of +fanciful border-work, enclosing figures and landscapes, in as bright +colors as if done yesterday. Farther on was the niche in which was +found the famous group of Laocoon, in a room belonging to a +subterranean palace of the emperor, communicating with the baths. The +Belvedere Meleager was also found here. The imagination loses itself +in attempting to conceive the splendor of these under-ground palaces, +blazing with artificial light, ornamented with works of art, never +equalled, and furnished with all the luxury which an emperor of Rome, +in the days when the wealth of the world flowed into her treasury, +could command for his pleasure. How short life must have seemed to +them, and what a tenfold curse became death and the common ills of +existence, interrupting or taking away pleasures so varied and +inexhaustible. + +These baths were built in the last great days of Rome, and one reads +the last stages of national corruption and, perhaps, the secret of her +fall, in the character of these ornamented walls. They breathe the +very spirit of voluptuousness. Naked female figures fill every +plafond, and fauns and satyrs, with the most licentious passions in +their faces, support the festoons and hold together the intricate +ornament of the frescoes. The statues, the pictures, the object of the +place itself, inspired the wish for indulgence, and the history of the +private lives of the emperors and wealthier Romans shows the effect in +its deepest colors. + +We went on to the baths of Caracalla, the largest ruins of Rome. They +are just below the palaces of the Cesars, and ten minutes' walk from +the Coliseum. It is one labyrinth of gigantic arches and ruined halls, +the ivy growing and clinging wherever it can fasten its root, and the +whole as fine a picture of decay as imagination could create. This was +the favorite haunt of Shelley, and here he wrote his fine tragedy of +Prometheus. He could not have selected a more fitting spot for +solitary thought. A herd of goats were climbing over one of the walls, +and the idle boy who tended them lay asleep in the sun, and every +footstep echoed loud through the place. We passed two or three hours +rambling about, and regained the populous streets of Rome in the last +light of the sunset. + + + + +LETTER LVII. + + SUMMER WEATHER IN MARCH--BATHS OF CARACALLA--BEGINNING OF THE + APPIAN WAY--TOMB OF THE SCIPIOS--CATACOMBS--CHURCH OF SAN + SEBASTIANO--YOUNG CAPUCHIN FRIAR--TOMBS OF THE EARLY CHRISTIAN + MARTYRS--CHAMBER WHERE THE APOSTLES WORSHIPPED--TOMB OF + CECILIA METELLA--THE CAMPAGNA--CIRCUS OF CARACALLA OR + ROMULUS--TEMPLE DEDICATED TO RIDICULE--KEATS'S GRAVE--FOUNTAIN + OF EGERIA--THE WOOD WHERE NUMA MET THE NYMPH--HOLY WEEK. + + +The last days of March have come, clothed in sunshine and summer. The +grass is tall in the Campagna, the fruit-trees are in blossom, the +roses and myrtles are in full flower, the shrubs are in full leaf, the +whole country about breathes of June. We left Rome this morning on an +excursion to the "Fountain of Egeria." A more heavenly day never +broke. The gigantic baths of Caracalla turned us aside once more, and +we stopped for an hour in the shade of their romantic arches, admiring +the works, while we execrated the character of their ferocious +builder. + +This is the beginning of the ancient Appian Way, and, a little +farther on, sunk in the side of a hill near the road, is the beautiful +doric tomb of the Scipios. We alighted at the antique gate, a kind of +portico, with seats of stone beneath, and reading the inscription, +"_Sepulchro degli Scipioni_" mounted by ruined steps to the tomb. A +boy came out from the house, in the vineyard above, with candles, to +show us the interior, but, having no curiosity to see the damp cave +from which the sarcophagi have been removed (to the museum), we sat +down upon a bank of grass opposite the chaste façade, and recalled to +memory the early-learnt history of the family once entombed within. +The edifice (for it is more like a temple to a river-nymph or a dryad +than a tomb) was built by an ancestor of the great Scipio Africanus, +and here was deposited the noble dust of his children. One feels, in +these places, as if the improvisatore's inspiration was about him--the +fancy draws, in such vivid colors, the scenes that have passed where +he is standing. The bringing of the dead body of the conqueror of +Africa from Rome, the passing of the funeral train beneath the +portico, the noble mourners, the crowd of people, the eulogy of +perhaps some poet or orator, whose name has descended to us--the air +seems to speak, and the gray stones of the monument against which the +mourners of the Scipios have leaned, seem to have had life and +thought, like the ashes they have sheltered. + +We drove on to the _Catacombs_. Here, the legend says, St. Sebastian +was martyred and the modern church of St. Sebastiano stands over the +spot. We entered the church, where we found a very handsome young +capuchin friar, with his brown cowl and the white cord about his +waist, who offered to conduct us to the catacombs. He took three +wax-lights from the sacristy, and we entered a side door, behind the +tomb of the saint, and commenced a descent of a long flight of stone +steps. We reached the bottom and found ourselves upon damp ground, +following a narrow passage, so low that I was compelled constantly to +stoop, in the sides of which were numerous small niches of the size of +a human body. These were the tombs of the early Christian martyrs. We +saw near a hundred of them. They were brought from Rome, the scene of +their sufferings, and buried in these secret catacombs by the small +church of, perhaps, the immediate converts of St. Paul and the +apostles. What food for thought is here, for one who finds more +interest in the humble traces of the personal followers of Christ, who +knew his face and had heard his voice, to all the splendid ruins of +the works of the persecuting emperors of his time! Most of the bones +have been taken from their places, and are preserved at the museum, or +enclosed in the rich sarcophagi raised to the memory of the martyrs in +the Catholic churches. Of those that are left we saw one. The niche +was closed by a thin slab of marble, through a crack of which the monk +put his slender candle. We saw the skeleton as it had fallen from the +flesh in decay, untouched, perhaps, since the time of Christ. + +We crossed through several cross-passages, and came to a small +chamber, excavated simply in the earth, with an earthern altar, and an +antique marble cross above. This was the scene of the forbidden +worship of the early Christians, and before this very cross, which +was, perhaps, then newly selected as the emblem of their faith, met +the few dismayed followers of Christ, hidden from their persecutors, +while they breathed their forbidden prayers to their lately crucified +Master. + +We reascended to the light of day by the rough stone steps, worn deep +by the feet of those who, for ages, for so many different reasons, +have passed up and down; and, taking leave of our capuchin conductor, +drove on to the next object upon the road--the _tomb of Cecilia +Metella_. It stands upon a slight elevation, in the Appian Way, a +"stern round tower," with the ivy dropping over its turrets and waving +from the embrasures, looking more like a castle than a tomb. Here was +buried "the wealthiest Roman's wife," or, according to Corinne, his +unmarried daughter. It was turned into a fortress by the marauding +nobles of the thirteenth century, who sallied from this and the tomb +of Adrian, plundering the ill-defended subjects of Pope Innocent IV. +till they were taken and hanged from the walls by Brancaleone, the +Roman senator. It is built with prodigious strength. We stooped in +passing under the low archway, and emerged into the round chamber +within, a lofty room, open to the sky, in the circular wall of which +there is a niche for a single body. Nothing could exceed the delicacy +and fancy with which Childe Harold muses on this spot. + +The lofty turrets command a wide view of the Campagna, the long +aqueducts stretching past at a short distance, and forming a chain of +noble arches from Rome to the mountains of Albano. Cole's picture of +the Roman Campagna, as seen from one of these elevations, is, I think, +one of the finest landscapes ever painted. + +Just below the tomb of Metella, in a flat valley, lie the extensive +ruins of what is called the "circus of Caracalla" by some, and the +"circus of Romulus" by others--a scarcely distinguishable heap of +walls and marble, half buried in the earth and moss; and not far off +stands a beautiful ruin of a small temple dedicated (as some say) to +_Ridicule_. One smiles to look at it. If the embodying of that which +is powerful, however, should make a deity, the dedication of a temple +to _ridicule_ is far from amiss. In our age particularly, one would +think, the lamp should be relit, and the reviewers should repair the +temple. Poor Keats sleeps in his grave scarce a mile from the spot, a +human victim sacrificed, not long ago, upon its highest altar. + +In the same valley almost hidden with the luxuriant ivy waving before +the entrance, flows the lovely _Fountain of Egeria_, trickling as +clear and musical into its pebbly bed as when visited by the enamored +successor of Romulus twenty-five centuries ago! The hill above leans +upon the single arch of the small temple which embosoms it, and the +green soft meadow spreads away from the floor, with the brightest +verdure conceivable. We wound around by a half-worn path in descending +the hill, and, putting aside the long branches of ivy, entered an +antique chamber, sprinkled with quivering spots of sunshine, at the +extremity of which, upon a kind of altar, lay the broken and defaced +statue of the nymph. The fountain poured from beneath in two streams +as clear as crystal. In the sides of the temple were six empty niches, +through one of which stole, from a cleft in the wall, a little stream, +which wandered from its way. Flowers, pale with growing in the shade, +sprang from the edges of the rivulet as it found its way out, the +small creepers, dripping with moisture, hung out from between the +diamond-shaped stones of the roof, the air was refreshingly cool, and +the leafy door at the entrance, seen against the sky, looked of a +transparent green, as vivid as emerald. No fancy could create a +sweeter spot. The fountain and the inspiration it breathed into Childe +Harold are worthy of each other. + +Just above the fountain, on the crest of a hill, stands a thick grove, +supposed to occupy the place of the consecrated wood, in which Numa +met the nymph. It is dark with shadow, and full of birds, and might +afford a fitting retreat for meditation to another king and lawgiver. +The fields about it are so thickly studded with flowers, that you +cannot step without crushing them, and the whole neighborhood seems a +favorite of nature. The rich banker, Torlonia, has bought this and +several other classic spots about Rome--possessions for which he is +more to be envied than for his purchased dukedom. + +All the travelling world assembles at Rome for the ceremonies of the +holy week. Naples, Florence, and Pisa, send their hundreds of annual +visitors, and the hotels and palaces are crowded with strangers of +every nation and rank. It would be difficult to imagine a gayer or +busier place than this usually sombre city has become within a few +days. + + + + +LETTER LVIII. + + PALM SUNDAY--SISTINE CHAPEL--ENTRANCE OF THE POPE--THE + CHOIR--THE POPE ON HIS THRONE--PRESENTING THE + PALMS--PROCESSION--BISHOP ENGLAND'S LECTURE--HOLY TUESDAY--THE + MISERERE--ACCIDENTS IN THE CROWD--TENEBRÆ--THE EMBLEMATIC + CANDLES--HOLY THURSDAY--FRESCOES OF MICHAEL ANGELO--"CREATION + OF EVE"--"LOT INTOXICATED"--DELPHIC SYBIL--POPE WASHING + PILGRIMS' FEET--STRIKING RESEMBLANCE OF ONE TO JUDAS--POPE AND + CARDINALS WAITING UPON PILGRIMS AT DINNER. + + +Palm Sunday opens the ceremonies. We drove to the Vatican this +morning, at nine, and, after waiting a half hour in the crush, kept +back, at the point of the spear, by the Pope's Swiss guard, I +succeeded in getting an entrance into the Sistine chapel. Leaving the +ladies of the party behind the grate, I passed two more guards, and +obtained a seat among the cowled and bearded dignitaries of the church +and state within, where I could observe the ceremony with ease. + +The Pope entered, borne in his gilded chair by twelve men, and, at the +same moment, the chanting from the Sistine choir commenced with one +long, piercing note, by a single voice, producing the most impressive +effect. He mounted his throne as high as the altar opposite him, and +the cardinals went through their obeisances, one by one, their trains +supported by their servants, who knelt on the lower steps behind them. +The palms stood in a tall heap beside the altar. They were beautifully +woven in wands of perhaps six feet in length, with a cross at the top. +The cardinal nearest the papal chair mounted first, and a palm was +handed him. He laid it across the knees of the Pope, and, as his +holiness signed the cross upon it, he stooped, and kissed the +embroidered cross upon his foot, then kissed the palm, and taking it +in his two hands, descended with it to his seat. The other forty or +fifty cardinals did the same, until each was provided with a palm. +Some twenty other persons, monks of apparent clerical rank of every +order, military men, and members of the Catholic embassies, followed +and took palms. A procession was then formed, the cardinals going +first with their palms held before them, and the Pope following, in +his chair, with a small frame of palmwork in his hands, in which was +woven the initial of the Virgin. They passed out of the Sistine +chapel, the choir chanting most delightfully, and, having made a tour +around the vestibule, returned in the same order. + +The ceremony is intended to represent the entrance of the Saviour into +Jerusalem. Bishop England, of Charleston, South Carolina, delivered a +lecture at the house of the English cardinal Weld, a day or two ago, +explanatory of the ceremonies of the Holy week. It was principally an +apology for them. He confessed that, to the educated, they appeared +empty, and even absurd rites, but they were intended not for the +refined, but the vulgar, whom it was necessary to instruct and impress +through their outward senses. As nearly all these rites, however, +take place in the Sistine chapel, which no person is permitted to +enter who is not furnished with a ticket, and in full dress, his +argument rather fell to the ground. + +With all the vast crowd of strangers in Rome, I went to the Sistine +chapel on _Holy Tuesday_, to hear the far-famed _Miserere_. It is sung +several times during the holy week, by the Pope's choir, and has been +described by travellers, of all nations, in the most rapturous terms. +The vestibule was a scene of shocking confusion, for an hour, a +constant struggle going on between the crowd and the Swiss guard, +amounting occasionally to a fight, in which ladies fainted, children +screamed, men swore, and, unless by force of contrast, the minds of +the audience seemed likely to be little in tune for the music. The +chamberlains at last arrived, and two thousand people attempted to get +into a small chapel which scarce holds four hundred. Coat-skirts, torn +cassocks, hats, gloves, and fragments of ladies' dresses, were thrown +up by the suffocating throng, and, in the midst of a confusion beyond +description, the mournful notes of the _tenebræ_ (or lamentations of +Jeremiah) poured in full volume from the choir. Thirteen candles +burned in a small pyramid within the paling of the altar, and twelve +of these, representing the apostles, were extinguished, one by one (to +signify their desertion at the cross), during the singing of the +_tenebræ_. The last, which was left burning, represented the mother of +Christ. As the last before this was extinguished, the music ceased. +The crowd had, by this time, become quiet. The twilight had deepened +through the dimly-lit chapel, and the one solitary lamp looked lost at +the distance of the altar. Suddenly the _miserére_ commenced with one +high prolonged note, that sounded like a wail; another joined it, and +another and another, and all the different parts came in, with a +gradual swell of plaintive and most thrilling harmony, to the full +power of the choir. It continued for perhaps half an hour. The music +was simple, running upon a few notes, like a dirge, but there were +voices in the choir that seemed of a really supernatural sweetness. No +instrument could be so clear. The crowd, even in their uncomfortable +positions, were breathless with attention, and the effect was +universal. It is really extraordinary music, and if but half the rites +of the Catholic church had its power over the mind, a visit to Rome +would have quite another influence. + +The candles were lit, and the motley troop of cardinals and red-legged +servitors passed out. The harlequin-looking Swiss guard stood to their +tall halberds, the chamberlains and mace-bearers, in their cassock and +frills, took care that the males and females should not mix until they +reached the door, the Pope disappeared in the sacristy, and the gay +world, kept an hour beyond their time, went home to cold dinners. + + * * * * * + +The ceremonies of _Holy Thursday_ commenced with the mass in the +Sistine chapel. Tired of seeing genuflections, and listening to a +mumbling of which I could not catch a syllable, I took advantage of my +privileged seat, in the Ambassador's box, to lean back and study the +celebrated frescoes of Michael Angelo upon the ceiling. A little +drapery would do no harm to any of them. They illustrate, mainly, +passages of scripture history, but the "creation of Eve," in the +centre, is an astonishingly fine representation of a naked man and +woman, as large as life; and "Lot intoxicated and exposed before his +two daughters," is about as immodest a picture, from its admirable +expression as well as its nudity, as could easily be drawn. In one +corner there is a most beautiful draped figure of the _Delphic +Sybil_--and I think this bit of heathenism is almost the only very +decent part of the Pope's most consecrated chapel. + +After the mass, the host was carried, with a showy procession, to be +deposited among the thousand lamps in the Capella Paolina, and, as +soon as it had passed, there was a general rush for the room in which +the Pope was to _wash the feet of the pilgrims_. + +Thirteen men, dressed in white, with sandals open at the top, and caps +of paper covered with white linen, sat on a high bench, just under a +beautiful copy of the last supper of Da Vinci, in gobelin tapestry. It +was a small chapel, communicating with the Pope's private apartments. +Eleven of the pilgrims were as vulgar and brutal-looking men as could +have been found in the world; but of the two in the centre, one was +the personification of wild fanaticism. He was pale, emaciated, and +abstracted. His hair and beard were neglected, and of a singular +blackness. His lips were firmly set in an expression of severity. His +brows were gathered gloomily over his eyes, and his glances, +occasionally sent among the crowd, were as glaring and flashing as a +tiger's. With all this, his countenance was lofty, and if I had seen +the face on canvas, as a portrait of a martyr, I should have thought +it finely expressive of courage and devotion. The man on his left +wept, or pretended to weep, continually; but every person in the room +was struck with his extraordinary resemblance to _Judas_, as he is +drawn in the famous picture of the Last Supper. It was the same marked +face, the same treacherous, ruffian look, the same style of hair and +beard, to a wonder. It is possible that he might have been chosen on +purpose, the twelve pilgrims being intended to represent the twelve +apostles of whom Judas was one--but if accidental, it was the most +remarkable coincidence that ever came under my notice. He looked the +hypocrite and traitor complete, and his resemblance to the Judas in +the picture directly over his head, would have struck a child. + +The Pope soon entered from his apartments, in a purple stole, with a +cape of dark crimson satin, and the mitre of silver-cloth, and, +casting the incense into the golden censer, the white smoke was flung +from side to side before him, till the delightful odor filled the +room. A short service was then chanted, and the choir sang a hymn. His +Holiness was then unrobed, and a fine napkin, trimmed with lace, was +tied about him by the servitors, and with a deacon before him, bearing +a splendid pitcher and basin, and a procession behind him, with large +bunches of flowers, he crossed to the pilgrims' bench. A priest, in a +snow-white tunic, raised and bared the foot of the first. The Pope +knelt, took water in his hand, and slightly rubbed the instep, and +then drying it well with a napkin, he kissed it. + +The assistant-deacon gave a large bunch of flowers and a napkin to the +pilgrim, as the Pope left him, and another person in rich garments, +followed, with pieces of money presented in a wrapper of white paper. +The same ceremony took place with each--one foot only being honored +with a lavation. When his Holiness arrived at the "Judas," there was a +general stir, and every one was on tip-toe to watch his countenance. +He took his handkerchief from his eyes, and looked at the Pope very +earnestly, and when the ceremony was finished, he seized the sacred +hand, and, imprinting a kiss upon it, flung himself back, and buried +his face again in his handkerchief, quite overwhelmed with his +feelings. The other pilgrims took it very coolly, comparatively, and +one of them seemed rather amused than edified. The Pope returned to +his throne, and water was poured over his hands. A cardinal gave him a +napkin, his splendid cape was put again over his shoulders, and, with +a paternoster the ceremony was over. + +Half an hour after, with much crowding and several losses of foothold +and temper, I had secured a place in the hall where the apostles, as +the pilgrims are called after the washing, were to dine, waited on by +the Pope and cardinals. With their gloomy faces and ghastly white caps +and white dresses, they looked more like criminals waiting for +execution, than guests at a feast. They stood while the Pope went +round with a gold pitcher and basin, to wash their hands, and then +seating themselves, his Holiness, with a good-natured smile, gave each +a dish of soup, and said something in his ear, which had the effect of +putting him at his ease. The table was magnificently set out with the +plate and provisions of a prince's table, and spite of the thousands +of eyes gazing on them, the pilgrims were soon deep in the delicacies +of every dish, even the lachrymose Judas himself, eating most +voraciously. We left them at their dessert. + + + + +LETTER LIX. + + SEPULCHRE OF CAIUS CESTIUS--PROTESTANT BURYING GROUND--GRAVES + OF KEATS AND SHELLEY--SHELLEY'S LAMENT OVER KEATS--GRAVES OF + TWO AMERICANS--BEAUTY OF THE BURIAL PLACE--MONUMENTS OVER TWO + INTERESTING YOUNG FEMALES--INSCRIPTION ON KEATS' MONUMENT--THE + STYLE OF KEATS' POEMS--GRAVE OF DR. BELL--RESIDENCE AND + LITERARY UNDERTAKINGS OF HIS WIDOW. + + +A beautiful pyramid, a hundred and thirteen feet high, built into the +ancient wall of Rome, is the proud _Sepulchre of Caius Cestius_. It is +the most imperishable of the antiquities, standing as perfect after +eighteen hundred years as if it were built but yesterday. Just beyond +it, on the declivity of a hill, over the ridge of which the wall +passes, crowning it with two mouldering towers, lies the _Protestant +burying-ground_. It looks toward Rome, which appears in the distance, +between Mount Aventine and a small hill called Mont Testaccio, and +leaning to the southeast, the sun lies warm and soft upon its banks, +and the grass and wild flowers are there the earliest and tallest of +the Campagna. I have been here to-day, to see the graves of _Keats_ +and _Shelley_. With a cloudless sky and the most delicious air ever +breathed, we sat down upon the marble slab laid over the ashes of poor +Shelley, and read his own lament over Keats, who sleeps just below, at +the foot of the hill. The cemetery is rudely formed into three +terraces, with walks between, and Shelley's grave and one other, +without a name, occupy a small nook above, made by the projections of +a mouldering wall-tower, and crowded with ivy and shrubs, and a +peculiarly fragrant yellow flower, which perfumes the air around for +several feet. The avenue by which you ascend from the gate is lined +with high bushes of the marsh-rose in the most luxuriant bloom, and +all over the cemetery the grass is thickly mingled with flowers of +every die. In his preface to his lament over Keats, Shelley says, "he +was buried in the romantic and lonely cemetery of the Protestants, +under the pyramid which is the tomb of Cestius, and the massy walls +and towers, now mouldering and desolate, which formed the circuit of +ancient Rome." It is an open space among the ruins, covered in winter +with violets and daisies. "_It might make one in love with death, to +think that one should be buried in so sweet a place._" If Shelley had +chosen his own grave at the time, he would have selected the very spot +where he has since been laid--the most sequestered and flowery nook of +the place he describes so feelingly. In the last verses of the elegy, +he speaks of it again with the same feeling of its beauty:-- + + "The spirit of the spot shall lead + Thy footsteps to a slope of green access, + Where, like an infant's smile, over the dead, + A light of laughing flowers along the grass is spread. + + "And gray walls moulder round, on which dull time + Feeds like slow fire upon a hoary brand: + And one keen pyramid, with wedge sublime, + Pavilioning the dust of him who planned + This refuge for his memory, doth stand + Like flame transformed to marble; and _beneath + A field is spread, on which a newer band + Have pitched, in heaven's smile, their camp of death_, + Welcoming him we lose, with scarce extinguished breath. + + "Here pause: these graves are all _too young as yet + To have outgrown the sorrow which consigned + Its charge to each_." + +Shelley has left no poet behind, who could write so touchingly of his +burial-place in turn. He was, indeed, as they have graven on his +tombstone, "_cor cordium_"--the heart of hearts. Dreadfully mistaken +as he was in his principles, he was no less the soul of genius than +the model of a true heart and of pure intentions. Let who will cast +reproach upon his memory, I believe, for one, that his errors were of +the kind most venial in the eye of Heaven, and I read, almost like a +prophesy, the last lines of his elegy on one he believed had gone +before him to a happier world: + + "Burning through the inmost veil of heaven, + The soul of Adonais, like a star, + Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are." + +On the second terrace of the declivity, are ten or twelve graves, two +of which bear the names of Americans who have died in Rome. A portrait +carved in bas-relief, upon one of the slabs, told me, without the +inscription, that one whom I had known was buried beneath.[9] The +slightly rising mound was covered with small violets, half hidden by +the grass. It takes away from the pain with which one stands over the +grave of an acquaintance or a friend, to see the sun lying so warm +upon it, and the flowers springing so profusely and cheerfully. Nature +seems to have cared for those who have died so far from home, binding +the earth gently over them with grass, and decking it with the most +delicate flowers. + +A little to the left, on the same bank, is the new-made grave of a +very young man, Mr. Elliot. He came abroad for health, and died at +Rome, scarce two months since. Without being disgusted with life, one +feels, in a place like this, a certain reconciliation, if I may so +express it, with the thought of a burial--an almost willingness, if +his bed could be laid amid such loveliness, to be brought and left +here to his repose. Purely imaginary as any difference in this +circumstance is, it must, at least, always affect the sick powerfully; +and with the common practice of sending the dying to Italy, as a last +hope, I consider the exquisite beauty of this place of burial, as more +than a common accident of happiness. + +Farther on, upon the same terrace, are two monuments that interested +me. One marks the grave of a young English girl,[10] the pride of a +noble family, and, as a sculptor told me, who had often seen and +admired her, a model of high-born beauty. She was riding with a party +on the banks of the Tiber, when her horse became unmanageable, and +backed into the river. She sank instantly, and was swept so rapidly +away by the current, that her body was not found for many months. Her +tombstone is adorned with a bas-relief, representing an angel +receiving her from the waves. + +The other is the grave of a young lady of twenty, who was at the baths +of Lucca, last summer, in pursuit of health. She died at the first +approach of winter. I had the melancholy pleasure of knowing her +slightly, and we used to meet her in the winding path upon the bank of +the romantic river Lima, at evening, borne in a sedan, with her mother +and sister walking at her side, the fairest victim consumption ever +seized. She had all the peculiar beauty of the disease, the +transparent complexion, and the unnaturally bright eye, added to +features cast in the clearest and softest mould of female loveliness. +She excited general interest even among the gay and dissipated crowd +of a watering place; and if her sedan was missed in the evening +promenade, the inquiry for her was anxious and universal. She is +buried in a place that seems made for such as herself. + +We descended to the lower enclosure at the foot of the slight +declivity. The first grave here is that of _Keats_. The inscription on +his monument runs thus: "_This grave contains all that was mortal of a +young English poet, who, on his death-bed, in the bitterness of his +heart at the malicious power of his enemies, desired these words to be +engraved on his tomb_: HERE LIES ONE WHOSE NAME WAS WRITTEN IN WATER." +He died at Rome in 1821. Every reader knows his history and the cause +of his death. Shelley says, in the preface to his elegy, "The savage +criticism on his poems, which appeared in the Quarterly Review, +produced the most violent effect on his susceptible mind; the +agitation thus originated ended in a rupture of a blood-vessel in the +lungs; a rapid consumption ensued, and the succeeding acknowledgments, +from more candid critics, of the true greatness of his powers, were +ineffectual to heal the wound thus wantonly inflicted." Keats was, no +doubt, a poet of very uncommon promise. He had all the wealth of +genius within him, but he had not learned, before he was killed by +criticism, the received, and, therefore, the best manner of producing +it for the eye of the world. Had he lived longer, the strength and +richness which break continually through the affected style of +Endymion and Lamia and his other poems, must have formed themselves +into some noble monuments of his powers. As it is, there is not a poet +living who could surpass the material of his "Endymion"--a poem, with +all its faults, far more full of beauties. But this is not the place +for criticism. He is buried fitly for a poet, and sleeps beyond +criticism now. Peace to his ashes! + +Close to the grave of Keats is that of Dr. Bell, the author of +"Observations on Italy." This estimable man, whose comments on the +fine arts are, perhaps, as judicious and high-toned as any ever +written, has left behind him, in Naples (where he practised his +profession for some years), a host of friends, who remember and speak +of him as few are remembered and spoken of in this changing and +crowded portion of the world. His widow, who edited his works so ably +and judiciously, lives still at Naples, and is preparing just now a +new edition of his book on Italy. Having known her, and having heard +from her own lips many particulars of his life, I felt an additional +interest in visiting his grave. Both his monument and Keats's are +almost buried in the tall flowering clover of this beautiful place. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[9] Mr. John Hone, of New York. + +[10] An interesting account of this ill-fated young lady, who was on +the eve of marriage, has appeared in the Mirror. + + + + +LETTER LX. + + PRESENTATION AT THE PAPAL COURT--PILGRIMS GOING TO + VESPERS--PERFORMANCE OF THE MISERERE--TARPEIAN ROCK--THE + FORUM--PALACE OF THE CESARS--COLISEUM. + + +I have been presented to the Pope this morning, in company with +several Americans--Mr. and Mrs. Gray, of Boston, Mr. Atherton and +daughters, and Mr. Walsh of Philadelphia, and Mr. Mayer of Baltimore. +With the latter gentleman, I arrived rather late, and found that the +rest of the party had been already received, and that his Holiness was +giving audience, at the moment, to some Russian ladies of rank. Bishop +England, of Charleston, however, was good enough to send in once more, +and, in the course of a few minutes, the chamberlain in waiting +announced to us that _Il Padre Santo_ would receive us. The ante-room +was a picturesque and rather peculiar scene. Clusters of priests, of +different rank, were scattered about in the corners, dressed in a +variety of splendid costumes, white, crimson, and ermine, one or two +monks, with their picturesque beards and flowing dresses of gray or +brown, were standing near one of the doors, in their habitually humble +attitudes; two gentlemen mace-bearers guarded the door of the entrance +to the Pope's presence, their silver batons under their arms, and +their open breasted cassocks covered with fine lace; the deep bend of +the window was occupied by the American party of ladies, in the +required black veils; and around the outer door stood the helmeted +guard, a dozen stout men-at-arms, forming a forcible contrast to the +mild faces and priestly company within. + +The mace-bearers lifted the curtain, and the Pope stood before us, in +a small plain room. The Irish priest who accompanied us prostrated +himself on the floor, and kissed the embroidered slipper, and Bishop +England hastily knelt and kissed his hand, turning to present us as he +rose. His Holiness smiled, and stepped forward, with a gesture of his +hand, as if to prevent our kneeling, and, as the bishop mentioned our +names, he looked at us and nodded smilingly, but without speaking to +us. Whether he presumed we did not speak the language, or whether he +thought us too young to answer for ourselves, he confined his +inquiries about us entirely to the good bishop, leaving me, as I +wished, at leisure to study his features and manner. It was easy to +conceive that the father of the Catholic church stood before me, but I +could scarcely realize that it was a sovereign of Europe, and the +temporal monarch of millions. He was dressed in a long vesture of +snow-white flannel, buttoned together in front, with a large crimson +velvet cape over his shoulders, and band and tassels of silver cloth +hanging from beneath. A small white scull-cap covered the crown of his +head, and his hair, slightly grizzled, fell straight toward a low +forehead, expressive of good-nature merely. A large emerald on his +finger, and slippers wrought in gold, with a cross on the instep, +completed his dress. His face is heavily moulded, but unmarked, and +expressive mainly of sloth and kindness; his nose is uncommonly large, +rather pendant than prominent, and an incipient double chin, slightly +hanging cheeks, and eyes, over which the lids drop, as if in sleep, at +the end of every sentence, confirm the general impression of his +presence--that of an indolent and good old man. His inquiries were +principally of the Catholic church in Baltimore (mentioned by the +bishop as the city of Mr. Mayer's residence), of its processions, its +degree of state, and whether it was recognised by the government. At +the first pause in the conversation, his Holiness smiled and bowed, +the Irish priest prostrated himself again, and kissed his foot, and, +with a blessing from the father of the church, we retired. + +On the evening of holy Thursday, as I was on my way to St. Peter's to +hear the _miserere_ once more, I overtook the procession of pilgrims +going up to vespers. The men went first in couples, following a cross, +and escorted by gentlemen penitents covered conveniently with +sackcloth, their eyes peeping through two holes, and their +well-polished boots beneath, being the only indications by which their +penance could be betrayed to the world. The pilgrims themselves, +perhaps a hundred in all, were the dirtiest collection of beggars +imaginable, distinguished from the lazars in the street, only by a +long staff with a faded bunch of flowers attached to it, and an +oil-cloth cape stitched over with scallop-shells. Behind came the +female pilgrims, and these were led by the first ladies of rank in +Rome. It was really curious to see the mixture of humility and pride. +There were, perhaps, fifty ladies of all ages, from sixteen to fifty, +walking each between two filthy old women who supported themselves by +her arms, while near them, on either side of the procession, followed +their splendid equipages, with numerous servants, in livery, on foot, +as if to contradict to the world their temporary degradation. The +lady penitents, unlike the gentlemen, walked in their ordinary dress. +I had several acquaintances among them; and it was inconceivable, to +me, how the gay, thoughtless, fashionable creatures I had met in the +most luxurious drawing-rooms of Rome, could be prevailed upon to +become a part in such a ridiculous parade of humility. The chief +penitent, who carried a large, heavy crucifix at the head of the +procession, was the Princess ----, at whose weekly soirees and balls +assemble all that is gay and pleasure-loving in Rome. Her two nieces, +elegant girls of eighteen or twenty, walked at her side, carrying +lighted candles, of four or five feet in length, in broad day-light, +through the streets! + +The procession crept slowly up to the church, and I left them kneeling +at the tomb of St. Peter, and went to the side chapel, to listen to +the _miserere_. The choir here is said to be inferior to that in the +Sistine chapel, but the circumstances more than make up for the +difference, which, after all, it takes a nice ear to detect. I could +not but congratulate myself, as I sat down upon the base of a pillar, +in the vast aisle, without the chapel where the choir were chanting, +with the twilight gathering in the lofty arches, and the candles of +the various processions creeping to the consecrated sepulchre from the +distant parts of the church. It was so different in that crowded and +suffocating chapel of the Vatican, where, fine as was the music, I +vowed positively never to subject myself to such annoyance again. + +It had become almost dark, when the last candle but one was +extinguished in the symbolical pyramid, and the first almost painful +note of the _miserere_ wailed out into the vast church of St. Peter. +For the next half hour, the kneeling listeners, around the door of the +chapel, seemed spell-bound in their motionless attitudes. The darkness +thickened, the hundred lamps at the far-off sepulchre of the saint, +looked like a galaxy of twinkling points of fire, almost lost in the +distance; and from the now perfectly obscured choir, poured, in +ever-varying volume, the dirge-like music, in notes inconceivably +plaintive and affecting. The power, the mingled mournfulness and +sweetness, the impassioned fulness, at one moment, and the lost, +shrieking wildness of one solitary voice, at another, carry away the +soul like a whirlwind. I have never been so moved by anything. It is +not in the scope of language to convey an idea to another of the +effect of the _miserere_. + +It was not till several minutes after the music had ceased, that the +dark figures rose up from the floor about me. As we approached the +door of the church, the full moon, about three hours risen, poured +broadly under the arch of the portico, inundating the whole front of +the lofty dome with a flood of light, such as falls only on Italy. +There seemed to be no atmosphere between. Daylight is scarce more +intense. The immense square, with its slender obelisk and embracing +crescents of colonnade, lay spread out as definitely to the eye as at +noon, and the two famous fountains shot up their clear waters to the +sky, the moonlight streamed through the spray, and every drop as +visible and bright as a diamond. + +I got out of the press of carriages, and took a by-street along the +Tiber, to the Coliseum. Passing the Jews' quarter, which shuts at dark +by heavy gates, I found myself near the Tarpeian rock, and entered the +Forum, behind the ruins of the temple of Fortune. I walked toward the +palace of the Cesars, stopping to gaze on the columns, whose shadows +have fallen on the same spot, where I now saw them, for sixteen or +seventeen centuries. It checks the blood at one's heart, to stand on +the spot and remember it. There was not the sound of a footstep +through the whole wilderness of the Forum. I traversed it to the arch +of Titus in a silence, which, with the majestic ruins around, seemed +almost supernatural--the mind was left so absolutely to the powerful +associations of the place. + +Ten minutes more brought me to the Coliseum. Its gigantic walls, +arches on arches, almost to the very clouds, lay half in shadow, half +in light, the ivy hung trembling in the night air, from between the +cracks of the ruin, and it looked like some mighty wreck in a desert. +I entered, and a hundred voices announced to me the presence of half +the fashion of Rome. I had forgotten that it was _the mode_ "to go to +the Coliseum by moonlight." Here they were dancing and laughing about +the arena where thousands of Christians had been torn by wild beasts, +for the amusement of the emperors of Rome; where gladiators had fought +and died; where the sands beneath their feet were more eloquent of +blood than any other spot on the face of the earth--and one sweet +voice proposed a dance, and another wished she could have music and +supper, and the solemn old arches re-echoed with shouts and laughter. +The travestie of the thing was amusing. I mingled in the crowd, and +found acquaintances of every nation, and an hour I had devoted to +romantic solitude and thought passed away, perhaps, quite as +agreeably, in the nonsense of the most thoughtless triflers in +society. + + + + +LETTER LXI. + + VIGILS OVER THE HOST--CEREMONIES OF EASTER SUNDAY--THE + PROCESSION--HIGH MASS--THE POPE BLESSING THE PEOPLE--CURIOUS + ILLUMINATION--RETURN TO FLORENCE--RURAL FESTA--HOSPITALITY OF + THE FLORENTINES--EXPECTED MARRIAGE OF THE GRAND DUKE. + + +ROME, 1833.--This is Friday of the holy week. The host, which was +deposited yesterday amid its thousand lamps in the Paoline chapel, was +taken from its place this morning, in solemn procession, and carried +back to the Sistine, after lying in the consecrated place twenty-four +hours. Vigils were kept over it all night. The Paoline chapel has no +windows, and the lights are so disposed as to multiply its receding +arches till the eye is lost in them. The altar on which the host lay +was piled up to the roof in a pyramid of light, and with the prostrate +figures constantly covering the floor, and the motionless soldier in +antique armor at the entrance, it was like some scene of wild romance. + +The ceremonies of Easter Sunday were performed where all others should +have been--in the body of St. Peter's. Two lines of soldiers, forming +an aisle up the centre, stretched from the square without the portico +to the sacred sepulchre. Two temporary platforms for the various +diplomatic corps and other privileged persons occupied the sides, and +the remainder of the church was filled by thousands of strangers, +Roman peasantry, and contadini (in picturesque red boddices, and with +golden bodkins through their hair), from all the neighboring towns. + +A loud blast of trumpets, followed by military music, announced the +coming of the procession. The two long lines of soldiers presented +arms, and the esquires of the Pope entered first, in red robes, +followed by the long train of proctors, chamberlains, mitre-bearers, +and incense-bearers, the men-at-arms, escorting the procession on +either side. Just before the cardinals, came a cross-bearer, supported +on either side by men in showy surplices carrying lights, and then +came the long and brilliant line of white-headed cardinals, in scarlet +and ermine. The military dignitaries of the monarch preceded the Pope, +a splendid mass of uniforms, and his Holiness then appeared, +supported, in his great gold and velvet chair, upon the shoulders of +twelve men, clothed in red damask, with a canopy over his head, +sustained by eight gentlemen, in short, violet-colored silk mantles. +Six of the Swiss guard (representing the six Catholic canons) walked +near the Pope, with drawn swords on their shoulders, and after his +chair followed a troop of civil officers, whose appointments I did not +think it worth while to enquire. The procession stopped when the Pope +was opposite the "chapel of the holy sacrament," and his Holiness +descended. The tiara was lifted from his head by a cardinal, and he +knelt upon a cushion of velvet and gold to adore the "sacred host," +which was exposed upon the altar. After a few minutes he returned to +his chair, his tiara was again set on his head, and the music rang +out anew, while the procession swept on to the sepulchre. + +The spectacle was all splendor. The clear space through the vast area +of the church, lined with glittering soldiery, the dazzling gold and +crimson of the coming procession, the high papal chair, with the +immense fan-banners of peacock's feathers, held aloft, the almost +immeasurable dome and mighty pillars, above and around, and the +multitudes of silent people, produced a scene which, connected with +the idea of religious worship, and added to by the swell of a hundred +instruments of music, quite dazzled and overpowered me. + +The high mass (performed but three times a year) proceeded. At the +latter part of it, the Pope mounted to the altar, and, after various +ceremonies, elevated the sacred host. At the instant that the small +white wafer was seen between the golden candlesticks, the two immense +lines of soldiers dropped upon their knees, and all the people +prostrated themselves at the same instant. + +This fine scene over, we hurried to the square in front of the church, +to secure places for a still finer one--that of the Pope blessing the +people. Several thousand troops, cavalry and footmen, were drawn up +between the steps and the obelisk, in the centre of the piazza, and +the immense area embraced by the two circling colonnades was crowded +by, perhaps, a hundred thousand people, with eyes directed to one +single point. The variety of bright costumes, the gay liveries of the +ambassadors' and cardinals' carriages, the vast body of soldiery, and +the magnificent frame of columns and fountains in which this gorgeous +picture was contained, formed the grandest scene conceivable. + +In a few minutes the Pope appeared in the balcony, over the great +door of St. Peter's. Every hat in the vast multitude was lifted and +every knee bowed in an instant. _Half a nation prostrate together, and +one gray old man lifting up his hands to heaven and blessing them!_ + +The cannon of the castle of St. Angelo thundered, the innumerable +bells of Rome pealed forth simultaneously, the troops fell into line +and motion, and the children of the two hundred and fifty-seventh +successor of St. Peter departed _blessed_. + +In the evening all the world assembled to see the illumination, which +it is useless to attempt to describe. + +The night was cloudy and black, and every line in the architecture of +the largest building in the world was defined in light, even to the +cross, which, as I have said before, is at the height of a mountain +from the base. For about an hour it was a delicate but vast structure +of shining lines, like a drawing of a glorious temple on the clouds. +At eight, as the clock struck, flakes of fire burst from every point, +and the whole building seemed started into flame. It was done by a +simultaneous kindling of torches in a thousand points, a man stationed +at each. The glare seemed to exceed that of noonday. No description +can give an idea of it. + +I am not sure that I have not been a little tedious in describing the +ceremonies of the holy week. Forsyth says in his bilious book, that he +"never could read, and certainly never could write, a description of +them." They have struck me, however, as particularly unlike anything +ever seen in our own country, and I have endeavored to draw them +slightly and with as little particularity as possible. I trust that +some of the readers of the Mirror may find them entertaining and +novel. + + * * * * * + +FLORENCE, 1833.--I found myself at six this morning, where I had found +myself at the same hour a year before--in the midst of the rural festa +in the Cascine of Florence. The Duke, to-day, breakfasts at his farm. +The people of Florence, high and low, come out, and spread their +repasts upon the fine sward of the openings in the wood, the roads are +watered, and the royal equipages dash backward and forward, while the +ladies hang their shawls in the trees, and children and lovers stroll +away into the shade, and all looks like a scene from Boccaccio. + +I thought it a picturesque and beautiful sight last year, and so +described it. But I was a stranger then, newly arrived in Florence, +and felt desolate amid the happiness of so many. A few months among so +frank and warm-hearted a people as the Tuscans, however, makes one at +home. The tradesman and his wife, familiar with your face, and happy +to be seen in their holyday dresses, give you the "_buon giorno_" as +you pass, and a cup of red wine or a seat at the cloth on the grass is +at your service in almost any group in the _prato_. I am sure I should +not find so many acquaintances in the town in which I have passed my +life. + +A little beyond the crowd, lies a broad open glade of the greenest +grass, in the very centre of the woods of the farm. A broad fringe of +shade is flung by the trees along the eastern side, and at their roots +cluster the different parties of the nobles and the ambassadors. Their +gayly-dressed _chasseurs_ are in waiting, the silver plate quivers and +glances, as the chance rays of the sun break through the leaves over +head, and at a little distance, in the road, stand their showy +equipages in a long line from the great oak to the farmhouse. + +In the evening, there was an illumination of the green alleys and the +little square in front of the house, and a band of music for the +people. Within, the halls were thrown open for a ball. It was given by +the Grand Duke to the Duchess of Litchtenberg, the widow of Eugene +Beauharnois. The company assembled at eight, and the presentations +(two lovely countrywomen of our own among them), were over at nine. +The dancing then commenced, and we drove home, through the fading +lights still burning in the trees, an hour or two past midnight. + +The Grand Duke is about to be married to one of the princesses of +Naples, and great preparations are making for the event. He looks +little like a bridegroom, with his sad face, and unshorn beard and +hair. It is, probably, not a marriage of inclination, for the fat +princess expecting him, is every way inferior to the incomparable +woman he has lost, and he passed half the last week in a lonely visit +to the chamber in which she died, in his palace at Pisa. + + + + +LETTER LXII. + + BOLOGNA--MALIBRAN--PARMA--NIGHTINGALES OF + LOMBARDY--PLACENZA--AUSTRIAN SOLDIERS--THE + SIMPLON--MILAN--RESEMBLANCE TO PARIS--THE + CATHEDRAL--GUERCINO'S HAGAR--MILANESE COFFEE. + + +MILAN.--My fifth journey over the Apennines--dull of course. On the +second evening we were at Bologna. The long colonnades pleased me less +than before, with their crowds of foreign officers and ill-dressed +inhabitants, and a placard for the opera, announcing Malibran's last +night, relieved us of the prospect of a long evening of weariness. The +divine music of _La Norma_ and a crowded and brilliant audience, +enthusiastic in their applause, seemed to inspire this still +incomparable creature even beyond her wont. She sang with a fulness, +an abandonment, a passionate energy and sweetness that seemed to come +from a soul rapt and possessed beyond control, with the melody it had +undertaken. They were never done calling her on the stage after the +curtain had fallen. After six re-appearances, she came out once more +to the footlights, and murmuring something inaudible from her lips +that showed strong agitation, she pressed her hands together, bowed +till her long hair, falling over her shoulders, nearly touched her +feet, and retired in tears. She is the siren of Europe for me! + +I was happy to have no more to do with the Duke of Modena, than to eat +a dinner in his capital. We did "not forget the picture," but my +inquiries for it were as fruitless as before. I wonder whether the +author of the Pleasures of Memory has the pleasure of remembering +having seen the picture himself! "Tassoni's bucket which is not the +true one," is still shown in the tower, and the keeper will kiss the +cross upon his fingers, that Samuel Rogers has written a false line. + +At Parma we ate parmesan and saw _the_ Correggio. The angel who holds +the book up to the infant Saviour, the female laying her cheek to his +feet, the countenance of the holy child himself, are creations that +seem apart from all else in the schools of painting. They are like a +group, not from life, but from heaven. They are superhuman, and, +unlike other pictures of beauty which stir the heart as if they +resembled something one had loved or might have loved, these mount +into the fancy like things transcending sympathy, and only within +reach of an intellectual and elevated wonder. This is the picture that +Sir Thomas Lawrence returned six times in one day to see. It is the +only thing I saw to admire in the Duchy of Maria Louisa. An Austrian +regiment marched into the town as we left it, and an Italian at the +gate told us that the Duchess had disbanded her last troops of the +country, and supplied their place with these yellow and black Croats +and Illyrians. Italy is Austria now to the foot of the Apennines--if +not to the top of Radicofani. + +Lombardy is full of nightingales. They sing by day, however (as not +specified in poetry). They are up quite as early as the lark, and the +green hedges are alive with their gurgling and changeful music till +twilight. Nothing can exceed the fertility of these endless plains. +They are four or five hundred miles of uninterrupted garden. The same +eternal level road, the same rows of elms and poplars on either side, +the same long, slimy canals, the same square, vine-laced, perfectly +green pastures and cornfields, the same shaped houses, the same-voiced +beggars with the same sing-song whine, and the same villanous +Austrians poring over your passports and asking to be paid for it, +from the Alps to the Apennines. It is wearisome, spite of green leaves +and nightingales. A bare rock or a good brigand-looking mountain would +so refresh the eye! + +At Placenza, one of those admirable German bands was playing in the +public square, while a small corps of picked men were manoeuvred. +Even an Italian, I should think, though he knew and felt it was the +music of his oppressors, might have been pleased to listen. And +pleased they seemed to be--for there were hundreds of dark-haired and +well-made men, with faces and forms for heroes, standing and keeping +time with the well-played instruments, as peacefully as if there were +no such thing as liberty, and no meaning in the foreign uniforms +crowding them from their own pavement. And there were the women of +Placenza, nodding from the balconies to the white mustaches and padded +coats strutting below, and you would never dream Italy thought herself +wronged, watching the exchange of courtesies between her dark-eyed +daughters and these fair-haired coxcombs. + +We crossed the Po, and entered Austria's _nominal_ dominions. They +rummaged our baggage as if they smelt republicanism somewhere, and +after showing a strong disposition to retain a volume of very bad +poetry as suspicious, and detaining us two long hours, they had the +modesty to ask to be paid for letting us off lightly. When we +declined it, the _chef_ threatened us a precious searching "_the next +time_." How willingly I would submit to the annoyance to have that +_next time_ assured to me! Every step I take toward the bounds of +Italy, pulls so upon my heart! + +As most travellers come into Italy over the Simplon, Milan makes +generally the first enthusiastic chapter in their books. I have +reversed the order myself, and have a better right to praise it from +comparison. For exterior, there is certainly no city in Italy +comparable to it. The streets are broad and noble, the buildings +magnificent, the pavement quite the best in Europe, and the Milanese +(all of whom I presume I have seen, for it is Sunday, and the streets +swarm with them), are better dressed, and look "better to do in the +world" than the Tuscans, who are gayer and more Italian, and the +Romans, who are graver and vastly handsomer. Milan is quite like +Paris. The showy and mirror-lined _cafés_, the elegant shops, the +variety of strange people and costumes, and a new gallery lately +opened in imitation of the glass-roofed _passages_ of the French +capital, make one almost feel that the next turn will bring him upon +the Boulevards. + +The famous cathedral, nearly completed by Napoleon, is a sort of +Aladdin creation, quite too delicate and beautiful for the open air. +The filmly traceries of gothic fretwork, the needle-like minarets, the +hundreds of beautiful statues with which it is studded, the intricate, +graceful, and bewildering architecture of every window and turret, and +the frost-like frailness and delicacy of the whole mass, make an +effect altogether upon the eye that must stand high on the list of new +sensations. It is a vast structure withal, but a middling easterly +breeze, one would think in looking at it, would lift it from its base +and bear it over the Atlantic like the meshes of a cobweb. Neither +interior nor exterior impresses you with the feeling of awe common to +other large churches. The sun struggles through the immense windows of +painted glass, staining every pillar and carved cornice with the +richest hues, and wherever the eye wanders it grows giddy with the +wilderness of architecture. The people on their knees are like +paintings in the strong artificial light, the checkered pavement seems +trembling with a quivering radiance, the altar is far and indistinct, +and the lamps burning over the tomb of Saint Carlo, shine out from the +centre like gems glistening in the midst of some enchanted hall. This +reads very like rhapsody, but it is the way the place impressed me. It +is like a great dream. Its excessive beauty scarce seems constant +while the eye rests upon it. + +The _Brera_ is a noble palace, occupied by the public galleries of +statuary and painting. I felt on leaving Florence that I could give +pictures a very long holyday. To live on them, as one does in Italy, +is like dining from morn till night. The famous Guercino, is at Milan, +however, the "Hagar," which Byron talks of so enthusiastically, and I +once more surrendered myself to a cicerone. The picture catches your +eye on your first entrance. There is that harmony and effect in the +color that mark a masterpiece, even in a passing glance. Abraham +stands in the centre of the group, a fine, prophet-like, "green old +man," with a mild decision in his eye, from which there is evidently +no appeal. Sarah has turned her back, and you can just read in the +half-profile glance of her face, that there is a little pity mingled +in her hard-hearted approval of her rival's banishment. But Hagar--who +can describe the world of meaning in her face? The closed lips have +in them a calm incredulousness, contradicted with wonderful nature in +the flushed and troubled forehead, and the eyes red with long weeping. +The gourd of water is hung over her shoulder, her hand is turning her +sorrowful boy from the door, and she has looked back once more, with a +large tear coursing down her cheek, to read in the face of her master +if she is indeed driven forth for ever. It is the instant before pride +and despair close over her heart. You see in the picture that the next +moment is the crisis of her life. Her gaze is straining upon the old +man's lips, and you wait breathlessly to see her draw up her bending +form, and depart in proud sorrow for the wilderness. It is a piece of +powerful and passionate poetry. It affects you like nothing but a +reality. The eyes get warm, and the heart beats quick, and as you walk +away you feel as if a load of oppressive sympathy was lifting from +your heart. + +I have seen little else in Milan, except Austrian soldiers, of whom +there are fifteen thousand in this single capital! The government has +issued an order to officers not on duty, to appear in citizen's dress, +it is supposed, to diminish the appearance of so much military +preparation. For the rest, they make a kind of coffee here, by boiling +it with cream, which is better than anything of the kind either in +Paris or Constantinople; and the Milanese are, for slaves, the most +civil people I have seen, after the Florentines. There is little +English society here; I know not why, except that the Italians are +rich enough to be exclusive and make their houses difficult of access +to strangers. + + + + +LETTER LXIII. + + A MELANCHOLY PROCESSION--LAGO MAGGIORE--ISOLA BELLA--THE + SIMPLON--MEETING A FELLOW-COUNTRYMAN--THE VALLEY OF THE RHONE. + + +In going out of the gates of Milan, we met a cart full of peasants, +tied together and guarded by _gens d'armes_, the fifth sight of the +kind that has crossed us since we passed the Austrian border. The poor +fellows looked very innocent and very sorry. The extent of their +offences probably might be the want of a passport, and a desire to +step over the limits of his majesty's possessions. A train of +beautiful horses, led by soldiers along the ramparts, the property of +the Austrian officers, were in melancholy contrast to their sad faces. + +The clear snowy Alps soon came in sight, and their cold beauty +refreshed us in the midst of a heat that prostrated every nerve in the +system. It is only the first of May, and they are mowing the grass +everywhere on the road, the trees are in their fullest leaf, the frogs +and nightingales singing each other down, and the grasshopper would be +a burden. Toward night we crossed the Sardinian frontier, and in an +hour were set down at an auberge on the bank of Lake Maggiore, in the +little town of Arona. The mountains on the other side of the broad +and mirror-like water, are speckled with ruined castles, here and +there a boat is leaving its long line of ripples behind in its course, +the cattle are loitering home, the peasants sit on the benches before +their doors, and all the lovely circumstances of a rural summer's +sunset are about us, in one of the very loveliest spots in nature. A +very old Florence friend is my companion, and what with mutual +reminiscences of sunny Tuscany, and the deepest love in common for the +sky over our heads, and the green land around us, we are noting down +"red days" in our calendar of travel. + +We walked from Arona by sunrise, four or five miles along the borders +of Lake Maggiore. The kind-hearted peasants on their way to the market +raised their hats to us in passing, and I was happy that the greeting +was still "_buon giorno_." Those dark-lined mountains before us were +to separate me too soon from the mellow accents in which it was +spoken. As yet, however, it was all Italian--the ultra-marine sky, the +clear, half-purpled hills, the inspiring air--we felt in every pulse +that it was still Italy. + +We were at Baveno at an early hour, and took a boat for _Isola Bella_. +It looks like a gentleman's villa afloat. A boy would throw a stone +entirely over it in any direction. It strikes you like a kind of toy +as you look at it from a distance, and getting nearer, the illusion +scarcely dissipates--for, from the water's edge, the orange-laden +terraces are piled one above another like a pyramidal fruit-basket, +the villa itself peers above like a sugar castle, and it scarce seems +real enough to land upon. We pulled round to the northern side, and +disembarked at a broad stone staircase, where a cicerone, with a look +of suppressed wisdom, common to his vocation, met us with the offer of +his services. + +The entrance-hall was hung with old armor, and a magnificent suite of +apartments above, opening on all sides upon the lake, was lined +thickly with pictures, none of them remarkable except one or two +landscapes by the savage Tempesta. Travellers going the other way +would probably admire the collection more than we. We were glad to be +handed over by our pragmatical custode to a pretty contadina, who +announced herself as the gardener's daughter, and gave us each a bunch +of roses. It was a proper commencement to an acquaintance upon Isola +Bella. She led the way to the water's edge, where, in the foundations +of the palace, a suite of eight or ten spacious rooms is constructed +_a la grotte_--with a pavement laid of small stones of different +colors, walls and roof of fantastically set shells and pebbles, and +statues that seem to have reason in their nudity. The only light came +in at the long doors opening down to the lake, and the deep leather +sofas, and dark cool atmosphere, with the light break of the waves +outside, and the long views away toward Isola Madra, and the far-off +opposite shore, composed altogether a most seductive spot for an +indolent humor and a summer's day. I shall keep it as a cool +recollection till sultry summers trouble me no more. + +But the garden was the prettiest place. The lake is lovely enough any +way; but to look at it through perspectives of orange alleys, and have +the blue mountains broken by stray branches of tulip-trees, clumps of +crimson rhododendron, and clusters of citron, yellower than gold; to +sit on a garden-seat in the shade of a thousand roses, with +sweet-scented shrubs and verbenums, and a mixture of novel and +delicious perfumes embalming the air about you, and gaze up at snowy +Alps and sharp precipices, and down upon a broad smooth mirror in +which the islands lie like clouds, and over which the boats are +silently creeping with their white sails, like birds asleep in the +sky--why (not to disparage nature), it seems to my poor judgment, that +these artificial appliances are an improvement even to Lago Maggiore. + +On one side, without the villa walls, are two or three small houses, +one of which is occupied as a hotel; and here, if I had a friend with +matrimony in his eye, would I strongly recommend lodgings for the +honeymoon. A prettier cage for a pair of billing doves no poet would +conceive you. + +We got on to Domo d'Ossola to sleep, saying many an oft-said thing +about the entrance to the valleys of the Alps. They seem common when +spoken of, these romantic places, but they are not the less new in the +glow of a first impression. + +We were a little in start of the sun this morning, and commenced the +ascent of the Simplon by a gray summer's dawn, before which the last +bright star had not yet faded. From Domo d'Ossola we rose directly +into the mountains, and soon wound into the wildest glens by a road +which was flung along precipices and over chasms and waterfalls like a +waving riband. The horses went on at a round trot, and so skilfully +are the difficulties of the ascent surmounted, that we could not +believe we had passed the spot that from below hung above us so +appallingly. The route follows the foaming river Vedro, which frets +and plunges along at its side or beneath its hanging bridges, with the +impetuosity of a mountain torrent, where the stream is swollen at +every short distance with pretty waterfalls, messengers from the +melting snows on the summits. There was one, a water-_slide_ rather +than a fall, which I stopped long to admire. It came from near the +peak of the mountain, leaping at first from a green clump of firs, +and descending a smooth inclined plane, of perhaps two hundred feet. +The effect was like drapery of the most delicate lace, dropping into +festoons from the hand. The slight waves overtook each other and +mingled and separated, always preserving their elliptical and foaming +curves, till, in a smooth scoop near the bottom, they gathered into a +snowy mass, and leaped into the Vedro in the shape of a twisted shell. +If wishing could have witched it into Mr. Cole's sketch-book, he would +have a new variety of water for his next composition. + +After seven hours' driving, which scarce seemed ascending but for the +snow and ice and the clear air it brought us into, we stopped to +breakfast at the village of Simplon, "three thousand, two hundred and +sixteen feet above the sea level." Here we first realized that we had +left Italy. The landlady spoke French and the postillions German! My +sentiment has grown threadbare with travel, but I don't mind +confessing that the circumstance gave me an unpleasant thickness in +the throat. I threw open the southern window, and looked back toward +the marshes of Lombardy, and if I did not say the poetical thing, it +was because + + "It is the silent grief that cuts the heart-strings." + +In sober sadness, one may well regret any country where his life has +been filled fuller than elsewhere of sunshine and gladness; and such, +by a thousand enchantments, has Italy been to me. Its climate is life +in my nostrils, its hills and valleys are the poetry of such things, +and its marbles, pictures, and palaces, beset the soul like the very +necessities of existence. You can exist elsewhere, but oh! you _live_ +in Italy! + +I was sitting by my English companion on a sledge in front of the +hotel, enjoying the sunshine, when the diligence drove up, and six or +eight young men alighted. One of them, walking up and down the road to +get the cramp of a confined seat out of his legs, addressed a remark +to us in English. We had neither of us seen him before, but we +exclaimed simultaneously, as he turned away, "That's an American." +"How did you know he was not an Englishman?" I asked. "Because," said +my friend, "he spoke to us without an introduction and without a +reason, as Englishmen are not in the habit of doing, and because he +ended his sentence with 'sir,' as no Englishman does except he is +talking to an inferior, or wishes to insult you. And how did you know +it?" asked he. "Partly by instinct," I answered, "but more, because +though a traveller, he wears a new hat that cost him ten dollars, and +a new cloak that cost him fifty, (a peculiarly American extravagance,) +because he made no inclination of his body either in addressing or +leaving us, though his intention was to be civil, and because he used +fine dictionary words to express a common idea, which, by the way, +too, betrays his southern breeding. And if you want other evidence, he +has just asked the gentleman near him to ask the conducteur something +about his breakfast, and an American is the only man in the world who +ventures to come abroad without at least French enough to keep himself +from starving." It may appear ill-natured to write down such +criticisms on one's own countryman; but the national peculiarities by +which we are distinguished from foreigners, seemed so well defined in +this instance, that I thought it worth mentioning. We found afterward +that our conjecture was right. His name and country were on the brass +plate of his portmanteau in most legible letters, and I recognized it +directly as the address of an amiable and excellent man, of whom I +had once or twice heard in Italy, though I had never before happened +to meet him. Three of the faults oftenest charged upon our countrymen, +are _over-fine clothes_, _over fine-words_, and _over-fine_, or +_over-free manners_! + +From Simplon we drove two or three miles between heaps of snow, lying +in some places from ten to six feet deep. Seven hours before, we had +ridden through fields of grain almost ready for the harvest. After +passing one or two galleries built over the road to protect it from +the avalanches where it ran beneath the loftier precipices, we got out +of the snow, and saw Brig, the small town at the foot of the Simplon, +on the other side, lying almost directly beneath us. It looked as if +one might toss his cap down into its pretty gardens. Yet we were four +or five hours in reaching it, by a road that seemed in most parts +scarcely to descend at all. The views down the valley of the Rhone, +which opened continually before us, were of exquisite beauty, The +river itself, which is here near its source, looked like a meadow +rivulet in its silver windings, and the gigantic Helvetian Alps which +rose in their snow on the other side of the valley, were glittering in +the slant rays of a declining sun, and of a grandeur of size and +outline which diminished, even more than distance, the river and the +clusters of villages at their feet. + + + + +LETTER LXIV. + + SWITZERLAND--LA VALAIS--THE CRETINS AND THE GOITRES--A + FRENCHMAN'S OPINION OF NIAGARA--LAKE LEMAN--CASTLE OF + CHILLON--ROCKS OF MEILLERIE--REPUBLICAN AIR--MONT + BLANC--GENEVA--THE STEAMER--PARTING SORROW. + + +We have been two days and a half loitering down through the Swiss +canton of Valais, and admiring every hour the magnificence of these +snow-capped and green-footed Alps. The little chalets seem just lodged +by accident on the crags, or stuck against slopes so steep, that the +mowers of the mountain-grass are literally let down by ropes to their +dizzy occupation. The goats alone seem to have an exemption from all +ordinary laws of gravitation, feeding against cliffs which it makes +one giddy to look on only; and the short-waisted girls dropping a +courtesy and blushing as they pass the stranger, emerge from the +little mountain-paths, and stop by the first spring, to put on their +shoes and arrange their ribands coquetishly, before entering the +village. + +The two dreadful curses of these valleys meet one at every step--the +_cretins_, or natural fools, of which there is at least one in every +family; and the _goitre_ or swelled throat, to which there is hardly +an exception among the women. It really makes travelling in +Switzerland a melancholy business, with all its beauty; at every turn +in the road, a gibbering and moaning idiot, and in every group of +females, a disgusting array of excrescences too common even to be +concealed. Really, to see girls that else were beautiful, arrayed in +all their holyday finery, but with a defect that makes them monsters +to the unaccustomed eye, their throats swollen to the size of their +heads, seems to me one of the most curious and pitiable things I have +met in my wanderings. Many attempts have been made to account for the +growth of the _goitre_, but it is yet unexplained. The men are not so +subject to it as the women, though among them, even, it is frightfully +common. But how account for the continual production by ordinary +parents of this brute race of _cretins_? They all look alike, +dwarfish, large-mouthed, grinning, and of hideous features and +expression. It is said that the children of strangers, born in the +valley, are very likely to be idiots, resembling the cretin exactly. +It seems a supernatural curse upon the land. The Valaisians, however, +consider it a blessing to have one in the family. + +The dress of the women of La Valais is excessively unbecoming, and a +pretty face is rare. Their manners are kind and polite, and at the +little _auberges_, where we have stopped on the road, there has been a +cleanliness and a generosity in the supply of the table, which prove +virtues among them, not found in Italy. + +At Turtmann, we made a little excursion into the mountains to see a +cascade. It falls about a hundred feet, and has just now more water +than usual from the melting of the snows. It is a pretty fall. A +Frenchman writes in the book of the hotel, that he has seen Niagara +and Trenton Falls, in America, and that they do not compare with the +cascade of Turtmann! + +From Martigny the scenery began to grow richer, and after passing the +celebrated Fall of the Pissevache (which springs from the top of a +high Alp almost into the road, and is really a splendid cascade), we +approached Lake Leman in a gorgeous sunset. We rose a slight hill, and +over the broad sheet of water on the opposite shore, reflected with +all its towers in a mirror of gold, lay the _castle of Chillon_. A +bold green mountain, rose steeply behind, the sparkling village of +Vevey lay farther down on the water's edge; and away toward the +sinking sun, stretched the long chain of the Jura, teinted with all +the hues of a dolphin. Never was such a lake of beauty--or it never +sat so pointedly for its picture. Mountains and water, chateaux and +shallops, vineyards and verdure, could do no more. We left the +carriage and walked three or four miles along the southern bank, under +the "Rocks of Meillerie," and the spirit of St. Preux's Julie, if she +haunt the scene where she caught her death, of a sunset in May, is the +most enviable of ghosts. I do not wonder at the prating in albums of +Lake Leman. For me, it is (after Val d'Arno from Fiesoli) the _ne plus +ultra_ of a scenery Paradise. + +We are stopping for the night at St. Gingoulf, on a swelling bank of +the lake, and we have been lying under the trees in front of the hotel +till the last perceptible teint is gone from the sky over Jura. Two +pedestrian gentlemen, with knapsacks and dogs, have just arrived, and +a whole family of French people, including parrots and monkeys, came +in before us, and are deafening the house with their chattering. A cup +of coffee, and then good night! + +My companion, who has travelled all over Europe on foot, confirms my +opinion that there is no drive on the continent, equal to the forty +miles between the rocks of Meillerie and Geneva, on the southern bank +of the Leman. The lake is not often much broader than the Hudson, the +shores are the noble mountains sung so gloriously by Childe Harold; +Vevey, Lausanne, Copet, and a string of smaller villages, all famous +in poetry and story, fringe the opposite water's edge with cottages +and villages, while you wind for ever along a green lane following the +bend of the shore, the road as level as your hall pavement, and green +hills massed up with trees and verdure, overshadowing you continually. +The world has a great many sweet spots in it, and I have found many a +one which would make fitting scenery for the brightest act of life's +changeful drama--but here is one, where it seems to me as difficult +not to feel genial and kindly, as for Taglioni to keep from floating +away like a smoke-curl when she is dancing in La Bayadere. + +We passed a bridge and drew in a long breath to try the difference in +the air--we were in the _republic_ of Geneva. It smelt very much as it +did in the dominions of his majesty of Sardinia--sweet-briar, +hawthorn, violets and all. I used to think when I first came from +America, that the flowers (republicans by nature as well as birds) +were less fragrant under a monarchy. + +Mont Blanc loomed up very white in the south, but like other +distinguished persons of whom we form an opinion from the description +of poets, the "monarch of mountains" did not seem to me so _very_ +superior to his fellows. After a look or two at him as we approached +Geneva, I ceased straining my head out of the cabriolet, and devoted +my eyes to things more within the scale of my affections--the scores +of lovely villas sprinkling the hills and valleys by which we +approached the city. Sweet--sweet places they are to be sure! And +then the month is May, and the straw-bonneted and white-aproned girls, +ladies and peasants alike, were all out at their porches and +balconies, lover-like couples were sauntering down the park-lanes, +_one_ servant passed us with a tri-cornered blue billet-doux between +his thumb and finger, the nightingales were singing their very hearts +away to the new-blown roses, and a sense of summer and seventeen, days +of sunshine and sonnet-making, came over me irresistibly. I should +like to see June out in Geneva. + +The little steamer that makes the tour of Lake Leman, began to "phiz" +by sunrise directly under the windows of our hotel. We were soon on +the pier, where our entrance into the boat was obstructed by a weeping +cluster of girls, embracing and parting very unwillingly with a young +lady of some eighteen years, who was lovely enough to have been wept +for by as many grown-up gentlemen. Her own tears were under better +government, though her sealed lips showed that she dared not trust +herself with her voice. After another and another lingering kiss, the +boatman expressed some impatience, and she tore herself from their +arms and stepped into the waiting batteau. We were soon along side the +steamer, and sooner under way, and then, having given one wave of her +handkerchief to the pretty and sad group on the shore, our fair +fellow-passenger gave way to her feelings, and sinking upon a seat, +burst into a passionate flood of tears. There was no obtruding on such +sorrow, and the next hour or two were employed by my imagination in +filling up the little drama, of which we had seen but the touching +conclusion. + +I was pleased to find the boat (a new one) called the "Winkelreid," in +compliment to the vessel which makes the same voyage in Cooper's +"Headsman of Berne." The day altogether had begun like a chapter in a +romance. + + "Lake Leman wooed us with its crystal face," + +but there was the filmiest conceivable veil of mist over its unruffled +mirror, and the green uplands that rose from its edge had a softness +like dreamland upon their verdure. I know not whether the tearful girl +whose head was drooping over the railing felt the sympathy, but I +could not help thanking nature for her, in my heart, the whole scene +was so of the complexion of her own feelings. I could have "thrown my +ring into the sea," like Policrates Samius, "to have cause for sadness +too." + +The "Winkelreid" has (for a republican steamer), rather the +aristocratical arrangement of making those who walk _aft_ the funnel +pay twice as much as those who choose to promenade _forward_--for no +earthly reason that I can divine, other than that those who pay +dearest have the full benefit of the oily gases from the machinery, +while the humbler passenger breathes the air of heaven before it has +passed through that improving medium. Our youthful Niobe, two French +ladies not particularly pretty, an Englishman with a fishing-rod and +gun, and a coxcomb of a Swiss artist to whom I had taken a special +aversion at Rome, from a criticism I overheard upon my favorite +picture in the Colonna, my friends and myself, were the exclusive +inhalers of the oleaginous atmosphere of the stern. A crowd of the +ark's own miscellaneousness thronged the forecastle--and so you have +the programme of a day on Lake Leman. + + + + +LETTER LXV. + + LAKE LEMAN--AMERICAN APPEARANCE OF THE GENEVESE--STEAMBOAT OF + THE RHONE--GIBBON AND ROUSSEAU--ADVENTURE OF THE + LILIES--GENEVESE JEWELLERS--RESIDENCE OF VOLTAIRE--BYRON'S + NIGHT-CAP--VOLTAIRE'S WALKING-STICK AND STOCKINGS. + + +The water of Lake Leman looks very like other water, though Byron and +Shelley were nearly drowned in it; and Copet, a little village on the +Helvetian side, where we left three women and took up one man (the +village ought to be very much obliged to us), is no Paradise, though +Madame de Stael made it her residence. There _are_ Paradises, however, +with very short distances between, all the way down the northern +shore; and angels in them, if women are angels--a specimen or two of +the sex being visible with the aid of the spyglass, in nearly every +balcony and belvidere, looking upon the water. The taste in +country-houses seems to be here very much the same as in New England, +and quite unlike the half-palace, half-castle style common in Italy +and France. Indeed the dress, physiognomy, and manners of old Geneva +might make an American Genevese fancy himself at home on the Leman. +There is that subdued decency, that grave respectableness, that +black-coated, straight-haired, saint-like kind of look which is +universal in the small towns of our country, and which is as unlike +France and Italy, as a playhouse is unlike a Methodist chapel. You +would know the people of Geneva were Calvinists, whisking through the +town merely in a diligence. + +I lost sight of the town of Morges, eating a tête-à-tête breakfast +with my friend in the cabin. Switzerland is the only place out of +America where one gets cream for his coffee. I cry, Morges mercy on +that plea. + +We were at Lausanne at eleven, having steamed forty miles in five +hours. This is not quite up to the thirty-milers on the Hudson, of +which I see accounts in the papers, but we had the advantage of not +being blown up, either going or coming, and of looking for a +continuous minute on a given spot in the scenery. Then we had an iron +railing between us and that portion of the passengers who prefer +garlic to lavender-water, and we achieved our breakfast without losing +our tempers or complexions, in a scramble. The question of superiority +between Swiss and American steamers, therefore, depends very much on +the value you set on life, temper, and time. For me, as my time is not +measured in "diamond sparks," and as my life and temper are the only +gifts with which fortune has blessed me, I prefer the Swiss. + +Gibbon lived at Lausanne, and wrote here the last chapter of his +History of Rome--a circumstance which he records with affection. It is +a spot of no ordinary beauty, and the public promenade, where we sat +and looked over to Vevey and Chillon, and the Rocks of Meillerie, and +talked of Rousseau, and agreed that it was a scene, "_faite pour une +Julie, pour une Claire, et pour un Saint Preux_," is one of the +places, where, if I were to "play statue," I should like to grow to my +seat, and compromise, merely, for eyesight. We have one thing against +Lausanne, however,--it is up hill and a mile from the water; and if +Gibbon walked often from Ouchet at noon, and "larded the way" as +freely as we, I make myself certain he was not the fat man his +biographers have drawn him. + +There were some other circumstances at Lausanne which interested +_us_--but which criticism has decided can not be obtruded upon the +public. We looked about for "Julie" and "Clare," spite of Rousseau's +"_ne les y cherchez pas_," and gave a blind beggar a sous (all he +asked) for a handful of lilies-of-the-valley, pitying him ten times +more than if he had lost his eyes out of Switzerland. To be blind on +Lake Leman! blind within sight of Mont Blanc! We turned back to drop +another sous into his hat, as we reflected upon it. + +The return steamer from Vevey (I was sorry not to go to Vevey for +Rousseau's sake, and as much for Cooper's), took us up on its way to +Geneva, and we had the advantage of seeing the same scenery in a +different light. Trees, houses, and mountains, are so much finer seen +_against_ the sun, with the deep shadows toward you! + +Sitting by the stern, was a fat and fair Frenchwoman, who, like me, +had bought lilies, and about as many. With a very natural facility of +dramatic position, I imagined it had established a kind of sympathy +between us, and proposed to myself, somewhere in the fair hours, to +make it serve as an introduction. She went into the cabin after a +while, to lunch on cutlets and beer, and returned to the deck without +her lilies. Mine lay beside me, within reach of her four fingers; and, +as I was making up my mind to offer to replace her loss, she coolly +took them up, and without even a French monosyllable, commenced +throwing them overboard, stem by stem. It was very clear she had +mistaken them for her own. As the last one flew over the tafferel, the +gentleman who paid for _la biere et les cottelettes_, husband or +lover, came up with a smile and a flourish, and reminded her that she +had left her bouquet between the mustard and the beer bottle. +_Sequiter_, a scene. The lady apologized, and I disclaimed; and the +more I insisted on the delight she had given me by throwing my pretty +lilies into Lake Leman, the more she made herself unhappy, and +insisted on my being inconsolable. One should come abroad to know how +much may be said upon throwing overboard a bunch of lilies! + +The clouds gathered, and we had some hopes of a storm, but the +"darkened Jura" was merely dim, and the "live thunder" waited for +another Childe Harold. We were at Geneva at seven, and had the whole +population to witness our debarkation. The pier where we landed, and +the new bridge across the outlet of the Rhone, are the evening +promenade. + +The far-famed jewellers of Geneva are rather an aristocratic class of +merchants. They are to be sought in chambers, and their treasures are +produced box by box, from locked drawers, and bought, if at all, +without the pleasure of "beating down." They are, withal, a +gentlemanly class of men; and, of the principal one, as many stories +are told as of Beau Brummel. He has made a fortune by his shop, and +has the manners of a man who can afford to buy the jewels out of a +king's crown. + +We were sitting at the _table d'hote_, with about forty people, on the +first day of our arrival, when the servant brought us each a +gilt-edged note, sealed with an elegant device; invitations, we +presumed, to a ball, at least. Mr. So-and-so (I forget the name), +begged pardon for the liberty he had taken, and requested us to call +at his shop in the Rue de Rhone, and look at his varied assortment of +bijouterie. A card was enclosed, and the letter in courtly English. We +went, of course; as who would not? The cost to him was a sheet of +paper, and the trouble of sending to the hotel for a list of the new +arrivals. I recommend the system to all callow Yankees, commencing a +"pushing business." + +Geneva is full of foreigners in the summer, and it has quite the +complexion of an agreeable place. The environs are, of course, +unequalled, and the town itself is a stirring and gay capital, full of +brilliant shops, handsome streets and promenades, where everything is +to be met but pretty women. Female beauty would come to a good market +anywhere in Switzerland. We have seen but one pretty girl (our Niobe +of the steamer), since we lost sight of Lombardy. They dress well +here, and seem modest, and have withal an air of style; but of some +five hundred ladies, whom I may have seen in the valley of the Rhone +and about this neighborhood, it would puzzle a modern Appelles to +compose an endurable Venus. I understand a fair countryman of ours is +about taking up her residence in Geneva; and if Lake Leman does not +"woo her," and the "live thunder" leap down from Jura, the jewellers, +at least, will crown her queen of the Canton, and give her the tiara +at cost. + +I hope "Maria Wilhelmina Amelia Skeggs" will forgive me for having +gone to _Ferney_ in an _omnibus_! Voltaire lived just under the Jura, +on a hill-side, overlooking Geneva and the lake, with a landscape +before him in the foreground, that a painter could not improve, and +Mont Blanc and its neighbor mountains, the breaks to his horizon. At +six miles off, Geneva looks very beautifully, astride the exit of the +Rhone from the lake; and the lake itself looks more like a broad +river, with its edges of verdure and its outer-frame of mountains. We +walked up an avenue to a large old villa, embosomed in trees, where an +old gardener appeared, to show us the grounds. We said the proper +thing under the tree planted by the philosopher, fell in love with the +view from twenty points, met an English lady in one of the arbors, the +wife of a French nobleman to whom the house belongs, and were bowed +into the hall by the old man and handed over to his daughter to be +shown the curiosities of the interior. These were Voltaire's rooms, +just as he left them. The ridiculous picture of his own apotheosis, +painted under his own direction, and representing him offering his +Henriade to Apollo, with all the authors of his time dying of envy at +his feet, occupies the most conspicuous place over his chamber-door. +Within was his bed, the curtains nibbled quite bare by relic-gathering +travellers; a portrait of the Empress Catharine, embroidered by her +own hand, and presented to Voltaire; his own portrait and Frederick +the Great's, and many of the philosophers', including Franklin. A +little monument stands opposite the fireplace, with the inscription, +"_mon esprit est partout, et mon coeur est ici_." It is a snug +little dormitory, opening with one window to the west; and, to those +who admire the character of the once illustrious occupant, a place for +very tangible musing. They showed us afterward his walking-stick, a +pair of silk-stockings he had half worn, and a night-cap. The last +article is getting quite fashionable as a relic of genius. They show +Byron's at Venice. + + + + +LETTER LXVI. + + PRACTICAL BATHOS OF CELEBRATED PLACES--TRAVELLING COMPANIONS + AT THE SIMPLON--CUSTOM-HOUSE COMFORTS--TRIALS OF + TEMPER--CONQUERED AT LAST!--DIFFERENT ASPECTS OF FRANCE, + ITALY, AND SWITZERLAND--FORCE OF POLITENESS. + + +Whether it was that I had offended the genius of the spot, by coming +in an omnibus, or from a desire I never can resist in such places, to +travesty and ridicule the mock solemnities with which they are +exhibited, certain it is that I left Ferney, without having +encountered, even in the shape of a more serious thought, the spirit +of Voltaire. One reads the third canto of Childe Harold in his +library, and feels as if "Lausanne and Ferney" _should_ be very +interesting places to the traveller, and yet when he is shown Gibbon's +bower by a fellow scratching his head and hitching up his trousers the +while, and the nightcap that enclosed the busy brain from which sprang +the fifty brilliant _tomes_ on his shelves, by a country-girl, who +hurries through her drilled description, with her eye on the silver +_douceur_ in his fingers, he is very likely to rub his hand over his +eyes, and disclaim, quite honestly, all pretensions to enthusiasm. And +yet, I dare say, I shall have a great deal of pleasure in remembering +that I _have been_ at Ferney. As an English traveller would say, "I +have _done_ Voltaire!" + +Quite of the opinion that it was not doing justice to Geneva to have +made but a three days' stay in it, regretting not having seen Sismondi +and Simond, and a whole coterie of scholars and authors, whose home it +is, and with a mind quite made up to return to Switzerland, when my +_beaux jours_ of love, money, and leisure, shall have arrived, I +crossed the Rhone at sunrise, and turned my face toward Paris. + +The Simplon is much safer travelling than the pass of the Jura. We +were all day getting up the mountains by roads that would make me +anxious, if there were a neck in the carriage I would rather should +not be broken. My company, fortunately, consisted of three Scotch +spinsters, who would try any precipice of the Jura, I think, if there +were a lover at the bottom. If the horses had backed in the wrong +place, it would have been to all three, I am sure, a deliverance from +a world in whose volume of happiness, + + "their leaf + By some o'er-hasty angel was misplaced." + +As to my own neck and my friend's, there is a special providence for +bachelors, even if they were of importance enough to merit a care. +Spinsters and bachelors, we all arrived safely at Rousses, the +entrance to France, and here, if I were to write before repeating the +alphabet, you would see what a pen could do in a passion. + +The carriage was stopped by three custom-house officers, and taken +under a shed, where the doors were closed behind it. We were then +required to dismount and give our honors that we had nothing new in +the way of clothes; no "jewelry; no unused manufactures of wool, +thread, or lace; no silk of floss silk; no polished metals, plated or +varnished; no toys, (except a heart each); nor leather, glass, or +crystal manufactures." So far, I kept my temper. + +Our trunks, carpet-bags, hat-boxes, dressing-cases, and +_portfeuilles_, were then dismounted and critically examined--every +dress and article unfolded; shirts, cravats, unmentionables and all, +and searched thoroughly by two ruffians, whose fingers were no +improvement upon the labors of the washerwoman. In an hour's time or +so we were allowed to commence repacking. Still, I kept my temper. + +We were then requested to walk into a private room, while the ladies, +for the same purpose, were taken, by a woman, into another. Here we +were requested to unbutton our coats, and, begging pardon for the +liberty, these courteous gentlemen thrust their hands into our +pockets, felt in our bosoms, pantaloons, and shoes, examined our hats, +and even eyed our "pet curls" very earnestly, in the expectation of +finding us crammed with Geneva jewelry. Still, I kept my temper. + +Our trunks were then put upon the carriage, and a sealed string put +upon them, which we were not to cut till we arrived in Paris. (Nine +days!) They then demanded to be paid for the sealing, and the fellows +who had unladen the carriage were to be paid for their labor. This +done, we were permitted to drive on. Still, I kept my temper! + +We arrived, in the evening, at Morez, in a heavy rain. We were sitting +around a comfortable fire, and the soup and fish were just brought +upon the table. A soldier entered and requested us to walk to the +police-office. "But it rains hard, and our dinner is just ready." The +man in the mustache was inexorable. The commissary closed his office +at eight, and we must go instantly to certify to our passports, and +get new ones for the interior. Cloaks and umbrellas were brought, and, +_bon gre_, _mal gre_, we walked half a mile in the mud and rain to a +dirty commissary, who kept us waiting in the dark fifteen minutes, and +then, making out a description of the person of each, demanded half a +dollar for the new passport, and permitted us to wade back to our +dinner. This had occupied an hour, and no improvement to soup or fish. +Still, I kept my temper--rather! + +The next morning, while we were forgetting the annoyances of the +previous night, and admiring the new-pranked livery of May by a +glorious sunshine, a civil _arretez vous_ brought up the carriage to +the door of _another custom-house_! The order was to dismount, and +down came once more carpet-bags, hat-boxes, and dressing-cases, and a +couple of hours were lost again in a fruitless search for contraband +articles. When it was all through, and the officers and men _paid_ as +before, we were permitted to proceed with the gracious assurance that +we should not be troubled again till we got to Paris! I bade the +commissary good morning, felicitated him on the liberal institutions +of his country and his zeal in the exercise of his own agreeable +vocation, and--I am free to confess--lost my temper! Job and +Xantippe's husband! could I help it! + +I confess I expected better things of _France_. In Italy, where you +come to a new dukedom every half-day, you do not much mind opening +your trunks, for they are petty princes and need the pitiful revenue +of contraband articles and the officer's fee. Yet even they leave the +person of the traveller sacred; and where in the world, except in +France, is a party, travelling evidently for pleasure, subjected +_twice at the same border_ to the degrading indignity of a search! Ye +"hunters of Kentucky"--thank heaven that you can go into Tennessee +without having your "plunder" overhauled and your pockets searched by +successive parties of scoundrels, whom you are to pay "by order of the +government," for their trouble! + + * * * * * + +The Simplon, which you pass in a day, divides two nations, each +other's physical and moral antipodes. The handsome, picturesque, lazy, +unprincipled Italian, is left in the morning in his own dirty and +exorbitant inn; and, on the evening of the same day, having crossed +but a chain of mountains, you find yourself in a clean auberge, +nestled in the bosom of a Swiss valley, another language spoken around +you, and in the midst of a people, who seem to require the virtues +they possess to compensate them for more than their share of +uncomeliness. You travel a day or two down the valley of the Rhone, +and when you are become reconciled to _cretins_ and _goitres_, and +ill-dressed and worse formed men and women, you pass in another single +day the chain of the Jura, and find yourself in France--a country as +different from both Switzerland and Italy, as they are from each +other. How is it that these diminutive cantons preserve so completely +their nationality? It seems a problem to the traveller who passes from +one to the other without leaving his carriage. + +One is compelled to like France in spite of himself. You are no sooner +over the Jura than you are enslaved, past all possible ill-humor, by +the universal politeness. You stop for the night at a place, which, as +my friend remarked, resembles an inn only in its _in_-attention, and +after a bad supper, worse beds, and every kind of annoyance, down +comes my lady-hostess in the morning to receive her coin, and if you +can fly into a passion with _such_ a cap, and _such_ a smile, and +_such_ a "_bon jour_," you are of less penetrable stuff than man is +commonly made of. + +I loved Italy, but detested the Italians. I detest France, but I can +not help liking the French. "Politeness is among the virtues," says +the philosopher. Rather, it takes the place of them all. What can you +believe ill of a people whose slightest look toward you is made up of +grace and kindness. + +We are dawdling along thirty miles a day through Burgundy, sick to +death of the bare vine-stakes, and longing to see a festooned vineyard +of Lombardy. France is such an ugly country! The diligences lumber by, +noisy and ludicrous; the cow-tenders wear cocked hats; the beggars are +in the true French extreme, theatrical in all their misery; the +climate is rainy and cold, and as unlike that of Italy as if a +thousand leagues separated them, and the roads are long, straight, +dirty, and uneven. There is neither pleasure nor comfort, neither +scenery nor antiquities, nor accommodations for the weary--nothing but +_politeness_. And it is odd how it reconciles you to it all. + + + + +LETTER LXVII. + + PARIS AND LONDON--REASONS FOR LIKING PARIS--JOYOUSNESS OF ITS + CITIZENS--LAFAYETTE'S FUNERAL--ROYAL RESPECT AND + GRATITUDE--ENGLAND--DOVER--ENGLISH NEATNESS AND COMFORT, AS + DISPLAYED IN THE HOTELS, WAITERS, FIRES, BELL-ROPES, + LANDSCAPES, WINDOW-CURTAINS, TEA-KETTLES, STAGE-COACHES, + HORSES, AND EVERYTHING ELSE--SPECIMEN OF ENGLISH RESERVE--THE + GENTLEMAN DRIVER OF FASHION--A CASE FOR MRS. TROLLOPE. + + +It is pleasant to get back to Paris. One meets everybody there one +ever saw; and operas and coffee, Taglioni and Leontine Fay, the belles +and the Boulevards, the shops, spectacles, life, lions, and lures to +every species of pleasure, rather give you the impression that, +outside the barriers of Paris, time is wasted in travel. + +What pleasant idlers they look! The very shopkeepers seem standing +behind their counters for amusement. The soubrette who sells you a +cigar, or ties a crape on your arm (it was for poor old Lafayette), is +coiffed as for a ball; the _frotteur_ who takes the dust from your +boots, sings his lovesong as he brushes away, the old man has his +bouquet in his bosom, and the beggar looks up at the new statue of +Napoleon in the Place Vendome--everybody has some touch of fancy, some +trace of a heart on the look-out, at least, for pleasure. + +I was at Lafayette's funeral. They buried the old patriot like a +criminal. Fixed bayonets before and behind his hearse, his own +National Guard disarmed, and troops enough to beleaguer a city, were +the honors paid by the "citizen king" to the man who had made him! The +indignation, the scorn, the bitterness, expressed on every side among +the people, and the ill-smothered cries of disgust as the two _empty_ +royal carriages went by, in the funeral train, seemed to me strong +enough to indicate a settled and universal hostility to the +government. + +I met Dr. Bowring on the Boulevard after the funeral was over. I had +not seen him for two years, but he could talk of nothing but the great +event of the day--"You have come in time," he said, "to see how they +carried the old general to his grave! What would they say to this in +America? Well--let them go on! We shall see what will come of it? They +have buried Liberty and Lafayette together--our last hope in Europe is +quite dead with him!" + + * * * * * + +After three delightful days in Paris we took the northern diligence; +and, on the second evening, having passed hastily through Montreuil, +Abbeville, Boulogne, and voted the road the dullest couple of hundred +miles we had seen in our travels, we were set down in Calais. A stroll +through some very indifferent streets, a farewell visit to the last +French _café_, we were likely to see for a long time, and some +unsatisfactory inquiries about Beau Brummel, who is said to live here +still, filled up till bedtime our last day on the continent. + +The celebrated Countess of Jersey was on board the steamer, and some +forty or fifty plebeian stomachs shared with her fashionable ladyship +and ourselves the horrors of a passage across the channel. It is +rather the most disagreeable sea I ever traversed, though I _have_ +seen "the Euxine," "the roughest sea the traveller e'er ----s," etc., +according to Don Juan. + +I was lying on my back in a berth when the steamer reached her +moorings at Dover, and had neither eyes nor disposition to indulge in +the proper sentiment on approaching the "white cliffs" of my +fatherland. I crawled on deck, and was met by a wind as cold as +December, and a crowd of rosy English faces on the pier, wrapped in +cloaks and shawls, and indulging curiosity evidently at the expense of +a shiver. It was the first of June! + +My companion led the way to a hotel, and we were introduced by +_English_ waiters (I had not seen such a thing in three years, and it +was quite like being waited on by gentlemen), to two blazing coal +fires in the "coffee room" of the "Ship." Oh what a comfortable place +it appeared! A rich Turkey carpet snugly fitted, nice-rubbed mahogany +tables, the morning papers from London, bellropes that _would_ ring +the bell, doors that _would_ shut, a landlady that spoke English, and +was kind and civil; and, though there were eight or ten people in the +room, no noise above the rustle of a newspaper, and positively, rich +red damask curtains, neither second-hand nor shabby, to the windows! A +greater contrast than this to the things that answer to them on the +continent, could scarcely be imagined. + +_Malgré_ all my observations on the English, whom I have found +elsewhere the most open-hearted and social people in the world, they +are said by themselves and others to be just the contrary; and, +presuming they were different in England, I had made up my mind to +seal my lips in all public places, and be conscious of nobody's +existence but my own. There were several elderly persons dining at the +different tables; and one party, of a father and son, waited on by +their own servants in livery. Candles were brought in, the different +cloths were removed; and, as my companion had gone to bed, I took up a +newspaper to keep me company over my wine. In the course of an hour, +some remark had been addressed to me, provocative of conversation, by +almost every individual in the room! The subjects of discussion soon +became general, and I have seldom passed a more social and agreeable +evening. And so much for the first specimen of English reserve! + +The fires were burning brilliantly, and the coffee-room was in the +nicest order when we descended to our breakfast at six the next +morning. The tea-kettle sung on the hearth, the toast was hot, and +done to a turn, and the waiter was neither sleepy nor uncivil--all, +again, very unlike a morning at a hotel in _la belle_ France. + +The coach rattled up to the door punctually at the hour; and, while +they were putting on my way-worn baggage, I stood looking in +admiration at the carriage and horses. They were four beautiful bays, +in small, neat harness of glazed leather, brass-mounted, their coats +shining like a racer's, their small, blood-looking heads curbed up to +stand exactly together, and their hoofs blacked and brushed with the +polish of a gentleman's boots. The coach was gaudily painted, the only +thing out of taste about it; but it was admirably built, the +wheel-horses were quite under the coachman's box, and the whole +affair, though it would carry twelve or fourteen people, covered less +ground than a French one-horse cabriolet. It was altogether quite a +study. + +We mounted to the top of the coach; "all right," said the ostler, and +away shot the four fine creatures, turning their small ears, and +stepping together with the ease of a cat, at ten miles in the hour. +The driver was dressed like a Broadway idler, and sat in his place, +and held his "ribands" and his tandemwhip with a confident air of +superiority, as if he were quite convinced that he and his team were +beyond criticism--and so they were! I could not but smile at +contrasting his silence and the speed and ease with which we went +along, with the clumsy, cumbrous diligence or vetturino, and the +crying, whipping, cursing and ill-appointed postillions of France and +Italy. It seems odd, in a two hours' passage, to pass over such strong +lines of national difference--so near, and not even a shading of one +into the other. + +England is described always very justly, and always in the same words: +"it is all one garden." There is not a cottage between Dover and +London (seventy miles), where a poet might not be happy to live. I saw +a hundred little spots I coveted with quite a heart-ache. There was no +poverty on the road. Everybody seemed employed, and everybody +well-made and healthy. The relief from the deformity and disease of +the wayside beggars of the continent was very striking. + +We were at Canterbury before I had time to get accustomed to my seat. +The horses had been changed twice; the coach, it seemed to me, hardly +stopping while it was done; way-passengers were taken up and put down, +with their baggage, without a word, and in half a minute; money was +tossed to the keeper of the turnpike gate as we dashed through; the +wheels went over the smooth road without noise, and with scarce a +sense of motion--it was the perfection of travel. + +The new driver from Canterbury rather astonished me. He drove into +London every day, and was more of a "_swell_." He owned the first team +himself, four blood horses of great beauty, and it was a sight to see +him drive them! His language was free from all slang, and very +gentlemanlike and well chosen, and he discussed everything. He found +out that I was an American, and said we did not think enough of the +memory of Washington. Leaving his bones in the miserable brick tomb, +of which he had descriptions, was not, in his opinion, worthy of a +country like mine. He went on to criticise Julia Grisi (the new singer +just then setting London on fire), hummed airs from "_Il Pirati_," to +show her manner; sang an English song like Braham; gave a decayed +Count, who sat on the box, some very sensible advice about the +management of a wild son; drew a comparison between French and Italian +women (he had travelled); told us who the old Count was in very +tolerable French, and preferred Edmund Kean and Fanny Kemble to all +actors in the world. His taste and his philosophy, like his driving, +were quite unexceptionable. He was, withal, very handsome, and had the +easy and respectful manners of a well-bred person. It seemed very odd +to give him a shilling at the end of the journey. + +At Chatham we took up a very elegantly dressed young man, who had come +down on a fishing excursion. He was in the army, and an Irishman. We +had not been half an hour on the seat together, before he had +discovered, by so many plain questions, that I was an American, a +stranger in England, and an acquaintance of a whole regiment of his +friends in Malta and Corfu. If this had been a Yankee, thought I, what +a chapter it would have made for Basil Hall or Madame Trollope! With +all his inquisitiveness I liked my companion, and half accepted his +offer to drive me down to Epsom the next day to the races. I know no +American who would have beaten _that_ on a stage-coach acquaintance. + + + + +LETTER LXVIII. + + FIRST VIEW OF LONDON--THE KING'S BIRTHDAY--PROCESSION OF MAIL + COACHES--REGENT STREET--LADY BLESSINGTON--THE ORIGINAL + PELHAM--BULWER, THE NOVELIST--JOHN GALT--D'ISRAELI, THE AUTHOR + OF VIVIAN GREY--RECOLLECTIONS OF BYRON--INFLUENCE OF AMERICAN + OPINIONS ON ENGLISH LITERATURE. + + +LONDON.--From the top of Shooter's Hill we got our first view of +London--an indistinct, architectural mass, extending all round to the +horizon, and half enveloped in a dim and lurid smoke. "That is St. +Paul's!--there is Westminster Abbey!--there is the tower of London!" +What directions were these to follow for the first time with the eye! + +From Blackheath (seven or eight miles from the centre of London), the +beautiful hedges disappeared, and it was one continued mass of +buildings. The houses were amazingly small, a kind of thing that would +do for an object in an imitation perspective park, but the soul of +neatness pervaded them. Trelises were nailed between the little +windows, roses quite overshadowed the low doors, a painted fence +enclosed the hand's breadth of grass-plot, and very, oh, _very_ sweet +faces bent over lapfuls of work beneath the snowy and looped-up +curtains. It was all home-like and amiable. There was an +_affectionateness_ in the mere outside of every one of them. + +After crossing Waterloo Bridge, it was busy work for the eyes. The +brilliant shops, the dense crowds of people, the absorbed air of every +passenger, the lovely women, the cries, the flying vehicles of every +description, passing with the most dangerous speed--accustomed as I am +to large cities, it quite made me dizzy. We got into a "jarvey" at the +coach-office, and in half an hour I was in comfortable quarters, with +windows looking down St. James street, and the most agreeable leaf of +my life to turn over. "Great emotions interfere little with the +mechanical operations of life," however, and I dressed and dined, +though it was my first hour in London. + +I was sitting in the little parlor alone over a fried sole and a +mutton cutlet, when the waiter came in, and pleading the crowded state +of the hotel, asked my permission to spread the other side of the +table for a clergyman. I have a kindly preference for the cloth, and +made not the slightest objection. Enter a fat man, with top-boots and +a hunting-whip, rosy as Bacchus, and excessively out of breath with +mounting one flight of stairs. Beefsteak and potatoes, a pot of +porter, and a bottle of sherry followed close on his heels. With a +single apology for the intrusion, the reverend gentleman fell to, and +we ate and drank for a while in true English silence. + +"From Oxford, sir, I presume," he said at last, pushing back his +plate, with an air of satisfaction. + +"No, I had never the pleasure of seeing Oxford." + +"R--e--ally! may I take a glass of wine with you, sir?" + +We got on swimmingly. He would not believe I had never been in England +till the day before, but his cordiality was no colder for that. We +exchanged port and sherry, and a most amicable understanding found its +way down with the wine. Our table was near the window, and a great +crowd began to collect at the corner of St. James' street. It was the +king's birth-day, and the people were thronging to see the nobility +come in state from the royal _levee_. The show was less splendid than +the same thing in Rome or Vienna, but it excited far more of my +admiration. Gaudiness and tinsel were exchanged for plain richness and +perfect fitness in the carriages and harness, while the horses were +incomparably finer. My friend pointed out to me the different liveries +as they turned the corner into Piccadilly, the duke of Wellington's +among others. I looked hard to see His Grace; but the two pale and +beautiful faces on the back seat, carried nothing like the military +nose on the handles of the umbrellas. + +The annual procession of mail-coaches followed, and it was hardly less +brilliant. The drivers and guard in their bright red and gold +uniforms, the admirable horses driven so beautifully, the neat +harness, the exactness with which the room of each horse was +calculated, and the small space in which he worked, and the +compactness and contrivance of the coaches, formed altogether one of +the most interesting spectacles I have ever seen. My friend, the +clergyman, with whom I had walked out to see them pass, criticised the +different teams _con amore_, but in language which I did not always +understand. I asked him once for an explanation; but he looked rather +grave, and said something about "gammon," evidently quite sure that my +ignorance of London was a mere quiz. + +We walked down Piccadilly, and turned into, beyond all comparison, +the most handsome street I ever saw. The Toledo of Naples, the Corso +of Rome, the Kohl-market of Vienna, the Rue de la Paix and Boulevards +of Paris, have each impressed me strongly with their magnificence, but +they are really nothing to Regent-street. I had merely time to get a +glance at it before dark; but for breadth and convenience, for the +elegance and variety of the buildings, though all of the same scale +and material, and for the brilliancy and expensiveness of the shops, +it seemed to me quite absurd to compare it with anything between New +York and Constantinople--Broadway and the Hippodrome included. + +It is the custom for the king's tradesmen to illuminate their shops on +His Majesty's birth-night, and the principal streets on our return +were in a blaze of light. The crowd was immense. None but the lower +order seemed abroad, and I cannot describe to you the effect on my +feelings on hearing my language spoken by every man, woman, and child, +about me. It seemed a completely foreign country in every other +respect, different from what I had imagined, different from my own and +all that I had seen; and, coming to it last, it seemed to me the +farthest off and strangest country of all--and yet the little sweep +who went laughing through the crowd, spoke a language that I had heard +attempted in vain by thousands of educated people, and that I had +grown to consider next to unattainable by others, and almost useless +to myself. Still, it did not make me feel at home. Everything else +about me was too new. It was like some mysterious change in my own +ears--a sudden power of comprehension, such as a man might feel who +was cured suddenly of deafness. You can scarcely enter into my +feelings till you have had the changes of French, Italian, German, +Greek, Turkish, Illyrian, and the mixtures and dialects of each, rung +upon your hearing almost exclusively, as I have for years. I wandered +about as if I were exercising some supernatural faculty in a dream. + +A friend in Italy had kindly given me a letter to Lady Blessington, +and with a strong curiosity to see this celebrated lady, I called on +the second day after my arrival in London. It was "deep i' the +afternoon," but I had not yet learned the full meaning of "town +hours." "Her ladyship had not come down to breakfast." I gave the +letter and my address to the powdered footman, and had scarce reached +home when a note arrived inviting me to call the same evening at ten. + +In a long library lined alternately with splendidly bound books and +mirrors, and with a deep window of the breadth of the room, opening +upon Hyde Park, I found Lady Blessington alone. The picture to my eye +as the door opened was a very lovely one. A woman of remarkable beauty +half buried in a fauteuil of yellow satin, reading by a magnificent +lamp, suspended from the centre of the arched ceiling; sofas, couches, +ottomans, and busts, arranged in rather a crowded sumptuousness +through the room; enamel tables, covered with expensive and elegant +trifles in every corner, and a delicate white hand relieved on the +back of a book, to which the eye was attracted by the blaze of its +diamond rings. As the servant mentioned my name, she rose and gave me +her hand very cordially, and a gentleman entering immediately after, +she presented me to her son-in-law, Count D'Orsay, the well-known +Pelham of London, and certainly the most splendid specimen of a man, +and a well-dressed one that I had ever seen. Tea was brought in +immediately, and conversation went swimmingly on. + +Her ladyship's inquiries were principally about America, of which, +from long absence, I knew very little. She was extremely curious to +know the degrees of reputation the present popular authors of England +enjoy among us, particularly Bulwer, Galt, and D'Israeli (the author +of Vivian Grey.) "If you will come to-morrow night," she said, "you +will see Bulwer. I am delighted that he is popular in America. He is +envied and abused by all the literary men of London, for nothing, I +believe, except that he gets five hundred pounds for his books and +they fifty, and knowing this, he chooses to assume a pride (some +people call it puppyism), which is only the armor of a sensitive mind, +afraid of a wound. He is to his friends, the most frank and gay +creature in the world, and open to boyishness with those who he thinks +understand and value him. He has a brother Henry, who is as clever as +himself in a different vein, and is just now publishing a book on the +present state of France. Bulwer's wife, you know, is one of the most +beautiful women in London, and his house is the resort of both fashion +and talent. He is just now hard at work on a new book, the subject of +which is the last days of Pompeii. The hero is a Roman dandy, who +wastes himself in luxury, till this great catastrophe rouses him and +develops a character of the noblest capabilities. Is Galt much liked?" + +I answered to the best of my knowledge that he was not. His life of +Byron was a stab at the dead body of the noble poet, which, for one, I +never could forgive, and his books were clever, but vulgar. He was +evidently not a gentleman in his mind. This was the opinion I had +formed in America, and I had never heard another. + +"I am sorry for it," said Lady B., "for he is the dearest and best +old man in the world. I know him well. He is just on the verge of the +grave, but comes to see me now and then, and if you had known how +shockingly Byron treated him, you would only wonder at his sparing his +memory so much." + +"_Nil mortuis nisi bonum_," I thought would have been a better course. +If he had reason to dislike him, he had better not have written since +he was dead. + +"Perhaps--perhaps. But Galt has been all his life miserably poor, and +lived by his books. That must be his apology. Do you know the +D'Israeli's in America?" + +I assured her ladyship that the "Curiosities of Literature," by the +father, and "Vivian Grey and Contarini Fleming," by the son, were +universally known. + +"I am pleased at that, too, for I like them both. D'Israeli the elder, +came here with his son the other night. It would have delighted you to +see the old man's pride in him. He is very fond of him, and as he was +going away, he patted him on the head, and said to me, "take care of +him, Lady Blessington, for my sake. He is a clever lad, but he wants +ballast. I am glad he has the honor to know you, for you will check +him sometimes when I am away!" D'Israeli, the elder, lives in the +country, about twenty miles from town, and seldom comes up to London. +He is a very plain old man in his manners, as plain as his son is the +reverse. D'Israeli, the younger, is quite his own character of Vivian +Grey crowded with talent, but very _soignè_ of his curls, and a bit of +a coxcomb. There is no reserve about him, however, and he is the only +_joyous_ dandy I ever saw." + +I asked if the account I had seen in some American paper of a literary +celebration at Canandaigua, and the engraving of her ladyship's name +with some others upon a rock, was not a quiz. + +"Oh, by no means. I was equally flattered and amused by the whole +affair. I have a great idea of taking a trip to America to see it. +Then the letter, commencing 'Most charming Countess--for charming you +must be since you have written the conversations of Lord Byron'--oh, +it was quite delightful. I have shown it to everybody. By the way, I +receive a great many letters from America, from people I never heard +of, written in the most extraordinary style of compliment, apparently +in perfectly good faith. I hardly know what to make of them." + +I accounted for it by the perfect seclusion in which great numbers of +cultivated people live in our country, who having neither intrigue, +nor fashion, nor twenty other things to occupy their minds as in +England, depend entirely upon books, and consider an author who has +given them pleasure as a friend. America, I said, has probably more +literary enthusiasts than any country in the world; and there are +thousands of romantic minds in the interior of New England, who know +perfectly every writer this side the water, and hold them all in +affectionate veneration, scarcely conceivable by a sophisticated +European. If it were not for such readers, literature would be the +most thankless of vocations. I, for one, would never write another +line. + +"And do you think these are the people who write to me? If I could +think so, I should be exceedingly happy. People in England are refined +down to such heartlessness--criticism, private and public, is so +interested and so cold, that it is really delightful to know there is +a more generous tribunal. Indeed, I think all our authors now are +beginning to write for America. We think already a great deal of your +praise or censure." + +I asked if her ladyship had known many Americans. + +"Not in London, but a great many abroad. I was with Lord Blessington +in his yacht at Naples, when the American fleet was lying there, eight +or ten years ago, and we were constantly on board your ships. I knew +Commodore Creighton and Captain Deacon extremely well, and liked them +particularly. They were with us, either on board the yacht or the +frigate every evening, and I remember very well the band playing +always, "God save the King," as we went up the side. Count d'Orsay +here, who spoke very little English at that time, had a great passion +for Yankee Doodle, and it was always played at his request." + +The Count, who still speaks the language with a very slight accent, +but with a choice of words that shows him to be a man of uncommon tact +and elegance of mind, inquired after several of the officers, whom I +have not the pleasure of knowing. He seemed to remember his visits to +the frigate with great pleasure. The conversation, after running upon +a variety of topics, which I could not with propriety put into a +letter for the public eye, turned very naturally upon Byron. I had +frequently seen the Countess Guiccioli on the Continent, and I asked +Lady Blessington if she knew her. + +"No. We were at Pisa when they were living together, but, though Lord +Blessington had the greatest curiosity to see her, Byron would never +permit it. 'She has a red head of her own,' said he, 'and don't like +to show it.' Byron treated the poor creature dreadfully ill. She +feared more than she loved him." + +She had told me the same thing herself in Italy. + +It would be impossible, of course, to make a full and fair record of a +conversation of some hours. I have only noted one or two topics which +I thought most likely to interest an American reader. During all this +long visit, however, my eyes were very busy in finishing for memory, +a portrait of the celebrated and beautiful woman before me. + +The portrait of Lady Blessington in the Book of Beauty is not unlike +her, but it is still an unfavorable likeness. A picture by Sir Thomas +Lawrence hung opposite me, taken, perhaps, at the age of eighteen, +which is more like her, and as captivating a representation of a just +matured woman, full of loveliness and love, the kind of creature with +whose divine sweetness the gazer's heart aches, as ever was drawn in +the painter's most inspired hour. The original is now (she confessed +it very frankly) forty. She looks something on the sunny side of +thirty. Her person is full, but preserves all the fineness of an +admirable shape; her foot is not crowded in a satin slipper, for which +a Cinderella might long be looked for in vain, and her complexion (an +unusually fair skin, with very dark hair and eyebrows), is of even a +girlish delicacy and freshness. Her dress of blue satin (if I am +describing her like a milliner, it is because I have here and there a +reader of the Mirror in my eye who will be amused by it), was cut low +and folded across her bosom, in a way to show to advantage the round +and sculpture-like curve and whiteness of a pair of exquisite +shoulders, while her hair dressed close to her head, and parted simply +on her forehead with a rich _ferroniere_ of turquoise, enveloped in +clear outline a head with which it would be difficult to find a fault. +Her features are regular, and her mouth, the most expressive of them, +has a ripe fulness and freedom of play, peculiar to the Irish +physiognomy, and expressive of the most unsuspicious good humor. Add +to all this a voice merry and sad by turns, but always musical, and +manners of the most unpretending elegance, yet even more remarkable +for their winning kindness, and you have the most prominent traits of +one of the most lovely and fascinating women I have ever seen. +Remembering her talents and her rank, and the unenvying admiration she +receives from the world of fashion and genius, it would be difficult +to reconcile her lot to the "doctrine of compensation." + +There is one remark I may as well make here, with regard to the +personal descriptions and anecdotes with which my letters from England +will of course be filled. It is quite a different thing from +publishing such letters in London. America is much farther off from +England than England from America. You in New York read the +periodicals of this country, and know everything that is done or +written here, as if you lived within the sound of Bow-bell. The +English, however, just know of our existence, and if they get a +general idea twice a year of our progress in politics, they are +comparatively well informed. Our periodical literature is never even +heard of. Of course there can be no offence to the individuals +themselves in anything which a visitor could write, calculated to +convey an idea of the person or manners of distinguished people to the +American public. I mention it lest, at first thought, I might seem to +have abused the hospitality or frankness of those on whom letters of +introduction have given me claims for civility. + + + + +LETTER LXIX. + + THE LITERATI OF LONDON. + + +Spent my first day in London in wandering about the finest part of the +West End. It is nonsense to compare it to any other city in the world. +From the Horse-Guards to the Regent's Park alone, there is more +magnificence in architecture than in the whole of any other metropolis +in Europe, and I have seen the most and the best of them. Yet this, +though a walk of more than two miles, is but a small part even of the +fashionable extremity of London. I am not easily tired in a city; but +I walked till I could scarce lift my feet from the ground, and still +the parks and noble streets extended before and around me as far as +the eye could reach, and strange as they were in reality, the names +were as familiar to me as if my childhood had been passed among them. +"Bond Street," "Grosvenor Square," "Hyde Park," look new to my eye, +but they sound very familiar to my ear. + +The equipages of London are much talked of, but they exceed even +description. Nothing can be more perfect, or apparently more simple +than the gentleman's carriage that passes you in the street. Of a +modest color, but the finest material, the crest just visible on the +panels, the balance of the body upon its springs, true and easy, the +hammercloth and liveries of the neatest and most harmonious colors, +the harness slight and elegant, and the horses "the only splendid +thing" in the establishment--is a description that answers the most of +them. Perhaps the most perfect thing in the world, however, is a St. +James's-street stanhope or cabriolet, with its dandy owner on the +whip-seat, and the "tiger" beside him. The attitudes of both the +gentleman and the "gentleman's gentleman" are studied to a point, but +nothing could be more knowing or exquisite than either. The whole +affair, from the angle of the bell-crowned hat (the prevailing fashion +on the steps of Crockford's at present), to the blood legs of the +thorough-bred creature in harness, is absolutely faultless. I have +seen many subjects for study in my first day's stroll, but I leave the +men and women and some other less important features of London for +maturer observation. + +In the evening I kept my appointment with Lady Blessington. She had +deserted her exquisite library for the drawing-room, and sat, in +fuller dress, with six or seven gentlemen about her. I was presented +immediately to all, and when the conversation was resumed, I took the +opportunity to remark the distinguished coterie with which she was +surrounded. + +Nearest me sat _Smith_, the author of "Rejected Addresses"--a hale, +handsome man, apparently fifty, with white hair, and a very +nobly-formed head and physiognomy. His eye alone, small and with lids +contracted into an habitual look of drollery, betrayed the bent of his +genius. He held a cripple's crutch in his hand, and though otherwise +rather particularly well dressed, wore a pair of large India rubber +shoes--the penalty he was paying, doubtless, for the many good dinners +he had eaten. He played rather an _aside_ in the conversation, +whipping in with a quiz or a witticism whenever he could get an +opportunity, but more a listener than a talker. + +On the opposite side of Lady B. stood Henry Bulwer, the brother of the +novelist, very earnestly engaged in a discussion of some speech of +O'Connell's. He is said by many to be as talented as his brother, and +has lately published a book on the present state of France. He is a +small man, very slight and gentleman-like, a little pitted with the +small-pox, and of very winning and persuasive manners. I liked him at +the first glance. + +His opponent in the argument was Fonblanc, the famous editor of the +Examiner, said to be the best political writer of his day. I never saw +a much worse face--sallow, seamed and hollow, his teeth irregular, his +skin livid, his straight black hair uncombed and straggling over his +forehead--he looked as if he might be the gentleman + + Whose "coat was red, and whose breeches were blue." + +A hollow, croaking voice, and a small, fiery black eye, with a smile +like a skeleton's, certainly did not improve his physiognomy. He sat +upon his chair very awkwardly, and was very ill-dressed, but every +word he uttered, showed him to be a man of claims very superior to +exterior attractions. The soft musical voice, and elegant manner of +the one, and the satirical, sneering tone and angular gestures of the +other, were in very strong contrast. + +A German prince, with a star on his breast, trying with all his might, +but, from his embarrassed look, quite unsuccessfully, to comprehend +the drift of the argument, the Duke de Richelieu, whom I had seen at +the court of France, the inheritor of nothing but the name of his +great ancestor, a dandy and a fool, making no attempt to listen, a +famous traveller just returned from Constantinople; and the splendid +person of Count D'Orsay in a careless attitude upon the ottoman, +completed the _cordon_. + +I fell into conversation after a while with Smith, who, supposing I +might not have heard the names of the others, in the hurry of an +introduction, kindly took the trouble to play the dictionary, and +added a graphic character of each as he named him. Among other things +he talked a great deal of America, and asked me if I knew our +distinguished countryman, Washington Irving. I had never been so +fortunate as to meet him. "You have lost a great deal," he said, "for +never was so delightful a fellow. I was once taken down with him into +the country by a merchant, to dinner. Our friend stopped his carriage +at the gate of his park, and asked us if we would walk through his +grounds to the house. Irving refused and held me down by the coat, so +that we drove on to the house together, leaving our host to follow on +foot. 'I make it a principle,' said Irving, 'never to walk with a man +through his own grounds. I have no idea of praising a thing whether I +like it or not. You and I will do them to-morrow morning by +ourselves.'" The rest of the company had turned their attention to +Smith as he began his story, and there was a universal inquiry after +Mr. Irving. Indeed the first question on the lips of every one to whom +I am introduced as an American, are of him and Cooper. The latter +seems to me to be admired as much here as abroad, in spite of a common +impression that he dislikes the nation. No man's works could have +higher praise in the general conversation that followed, though +several instances were mentioned of his having shown an unconquerable +aversion to the English when in England. Lady Blessington mentioned +Mr. Bryant, and I was pleased at the immediate tribute paid to his +delightful poetry by the talented circle around her. + +Toward twelve o'clock, "Mr. Lytton Bulwer" was announced, and enter +the author of Pelham. I had made up my mind how he _should_ look, and +between prints and descriptions thought I could scarcely be mistaken +in my idea of his person. No two things could be more unlike, however, +than the ideal Mr. Bulwer in my mind and the real Mr. Bulwer who +followed the announcement. _Imprimis_, the gentleman who entered was +not handsome. I beg pardon of the boarding-schools--but he really _was +not_. The engraving of him published some time ago in America is as +much like any other man living, and gives you no idea of his head +whatever. He is short, very much bent in the back, slightly +knock-kneed, and, if my opinion in such matters goes for anything, as +ill-dressed a man for a gentleman, as you will find in London. His +figure is slight and very badly put together, and the only commendable +point in his person, as far as I could see, was the smallest foot I +ever saw a man stand upon. _Au reste_, I liked his manners extremely. +He ran up to Lady Blessington, with the joyous heartiness of a boy let +out of school; and the "how d'ye, Bulwer!" went round, as he shook +hands with everybody, in the style of welcome usually given to "the +best fellow in the world." As I had brought a letter of introduction +to him from a friend in Italy, Lady Blessington introduced me +particularly, and we had a long conversation about Naples and its +pleasant society. + +Bulwer's head is phrenologically a fine one. His forehead retreats +very much, but is very broad and well marked, and the whole air is +that of decided mental superiority. His nose is aquiline, and far too +large for proportion, though he conceals its extreme prominence by an +immense pair of red whiskers, which entirely conceal the lower part of +his face in profile. His complexion is fair, his hair profuse, curly, +and of a light auburn, his eye not remarkable, and his mouth +contradictory, I should think, of all talent. A more good-natured, +habitually-smiling, nerveless expression could hardly be imagined. +Perhaps my impression is an imperfect one, as he was in the highest +spirits, and was not serious the whole evening for a minute--but it is +strictly and faithfully _my impression_. + +I can imagine no style of conversation calculated to be more agreeable +than Bulwer's. Gay, quick, various, half-satirical, and always fresh +and different from everybody else, he seemed to talk because he could +not help it, and infected everybody with his spirits. I can not give +even the substance of it in a letter, for it was in a great measure +local or personal. A great deal of fun was made of a proposal by Lady +Blessington to take Bulwer to America and show him at so much a head. +She asked me whether I thought it would be a good speculation. I took +upon myself to assure her ladyship, that, provided she played +_showman_ the "concern," as they would phrase it in America, would be +certainly a profitable one. Bulwer said he would rather go in disguise +and hear them abuse his books. It would be pleasant, he thought, to +hear the opinions of people who judged him neither as a member of +parliament nor a dandy--simply a book-maker. Smith asked him if he +kept an amanuensis. "No," he said, "I scribble it all out myself, and +send it to the press in a most ungentlemanlike hand, half print and +half hieroglyphic, with all its imperfections on its head, and correct +in the proof--very much to the dissatisfaction of the publisher, who +sends me in a bill of sixteen pounds six shillings and fourpence for +extra corrections. Then I am free to confess I don't know grammar. +Lady Blessington, do you know grammar? I detest grammar. There never +was such a thing heard of before Lindley Murray. I wonder what they +did for grammar before his day! Oh, the delicious blunders one sees +when they are irretrievable! And the best of it is, the critics never +get hold of them. Thank Heaven for second editions, that one may +scratch out his blots, and go down clean and gentleman-like to +posterity!" Smith asked him if he had ever reviewed one of his own +books. "No--but I _could_! And then how I should like to recriminate +and defend myself indignantly! I think I could be preciously severe. +Depend upon it nobody knows a book's defects half so well as its +author. I have a great idea of criticising my works for my posthumous +memoirs. Shall I, Smith? Shall I, Lady Blessington?" + +Bulwer's voice, like his brother's, is exceedingly lover-like and +sweet. His playful tones are quite delicious, and his clear laugh is +the soul of sincere and careless merriment. + +It is quite impossible to convey in a letter scrawled literally, +between the end of a late visit and a tempting pillow, the evanescent +and pure spirit of a conversation of wits. I must confine myself, of +course, in such sketches, to the mere sentiment of things that concern +general literature and ourselves. + +"The Rejected Addresses" got upon his crutches about three o'clock in +the morning, and I made my exit with the rest, thanking Heaven, that, +though in a strange country, my mother tongue was the language of its +men of genius. + + + + +LETTER LXX. + + LONDON--VISIT TO A RACE-COURSE--GIPSIES--THE PRINCESS + VICTORIA--SPLENDID APPEARANCE OF THE ENGLISH NOBILITY--A + BREAKFAST WITH ELIA AND BRIDGET ELIA--MYSTIFICATION--CHARLES + LAMB'S OPINION OF AMERICAN AUTHORS. + + +I have just returned from _Ascot races_. Ascot Heath, on which the +course is laid out, is a high platform of land, beautifully situated +on a hill above Windsor Castle, about twenty-five miles from London. I +went down with a party of gentlemen in the morning and returned at +evening, doing the distance, with relays of horses in something less +than three hours. This, one would think, is very fair speed, but we +were passed continually by the "bloods" of the road, in comparison +with whom we seemed getting on rather at a snail's pace. + +The scenery on the way was truly English--one series of finished +landscapes, of every variety of combination. Lawns, fancy-cottages, +manor-houses, groves, roses and flower-gardens make up England. It +surfeits the eye at last. You could not drop a poet out of the clouds +upon any part of it I have seen, where, within five minutes' walk, he +would not find himself in Paradise. + +We flew past Virginia Water and through the sun-flecked shades of +Windsor Park, with the speed of the wind. On reaching the Heath, we +dashed out of the road, and cutting through fern and brier, our +experienced whip put his wheels on the rim of the course, as near the +stands as some thousands of carriages arrived before us would permit, +and then, cautioning us to take the bearings of our position, lest we +should lose him after the race, he took off his horses, and left us to +choose our own places. + +A thousand red and yellow flags were flying from as many snowy tents +in the midst of the green heath; ballad-singers and bands of music +were amusing their little audiences in every direction; splendid +markees covering gambling-tables, surrounded the winning-post; groups +of country people were busy in every bush, eating and singing, and the +great stands were piled with row upon row of human heads waiting +anxiously for the exhilarating contest. + +Soon after we arrived, the King and royal family drove up the course +with twenty carriages, and scores of postillions and outriders in red +and gold, flying over the turf as majesty flies in no other country; +and, immediately after, the bell rang to clear the course for the +race. _Such_ horses! The earth seemed to fling them off as they +touched it. The lean jockeys, in their party-colored caps and jackets, +rode the fine-limbed, slender creatures up and down together, and then +returning to the starting-post, off they shot like so many arrows from +the bow. + +_Whiz!_ you could tell neither color nor shape as they passed across +the eye. Their swiftness was incredible. A horse of Lord +Chesterfield's was rather the favorite; and for the sake of his +great-grandfather, I had backed him with my small wager, "Glaucus is +losing," said some one on the top of a carriage above me, but round +they swept again, and I could just see that one glorious creature was +doubling the leaps of every other horse, and in a moment Glaucus and +Lord Chesterfield had won. + +The course between the races is a promenade of some thousands of the +best-dressed people in England. I thought I had never seen so many +handsome men and women, but particularly _men_. The nobility of this +country, unlike every other, is by far the manliest and finest looking +class of its population. The _contadini_ of Rome, the _lazzaroni_ of +Naples, the _paysans_ of France, are incomparably more handsome than +their superiors in rank, but it is strikingly different here. A set of +more elegant and well-proportioned men than those pointed out to me by +my friends as the noblemen on the course, I never saw, except only in +Greece. The Albanians are seraphs to look at. + +Excitement is hungry, and, after the first race, our party produced +their baskets and bottles, and spreading out the cold pie and +champaign upon the grass, between the wheels of the carriages, we +drank Lord Chesterfield's health and ate for our own, in an _al +fresco_ style worthy of Italy. Two veritable Bohemians, brown, +black-eyed gipsies, the models of those I had seen in their wicker +tents in Asia, profited by the liberality of the hour, and came in for +an upper crust to a pigeon pie, that, to tell the truth, they seemed +to appreciate. + +Race followed race, but I am not a contributor to the Sporting +Magazine, and could not give you their merits in comprehensible terms +if I were. + +In one of the intervals, I walked under the King's stand, and saw Her +Majesty, the Queen, and the young Princess Victoria, very distinctly. +They were listening to a ballad-singer, and leaning over the front of +the box with an amused attention, quite as sincere, apparently, as any +beggar's in the ring. The Queen is the plainest woman in her +dominions, beyond a doubt. The Princess is much better-looking than +the pictures of her in the shops, and, for the heir to such a crown as +that of England, quite unnecessarily pretty and interesting. She will +be sold, poor thing--bartered away by those great dealers in royal +hearts, whose grand calculations will not be much consolation to her, +if she happens to have a taste of her own. + + * * * * * + +[The following sketch was written a short time previous to the death +of Charles Lamb.] + + Invited to breakfast with a gentleman in the temple to meet + Charles Lamb and his sister--"Elia and Bridget Elia." I never + in my life had an invitation more to my taste. The essays of + Elia are certainly the most charming things in the world, and + it has been for the last ten years, my highest compliment to + the literary taste of a friend to present him with a copy. Who + has not smiled over the humorous description of Mrs. Battle? + Who that has read Elia would not give more to see him than all + the other authors of his time put together? + + Our host was rather a character. I had brought a letter of + introduction to him from Walter Savage Landor, the author of + Imaginary Conversations, living at Florence, with a request + that he would put me in the way of seeing one or two men about + whom I had a curiosity, Lamb more particularly. I could not + have been recommended to a better person. Mr. R. is a + gentleman who, everybody says, _should have been_ an author, + but who never wrote a book. He is a profound German scholar, + has travelled much, is the intimate friend of Southey, + Coleridge, and Lamb, has breakfasted with Goëthe, travelled + with Wordsworth through France and Italy, and spends part of + every summer with him, and knows everything and everybody that + is distinguished--in short, is, in his bachelor's chambers in + the temple, the friendly nucleus of a great part of the talent + of England. + + I arrived a half hour before Lamb, and had time to learn some + of his peculiarities. He lives a little out of London, and is + very much of an invalid. Some family circumstances have tended + to depress him very much of late years, and unless excited by + convivial intercourse, he scarce shows a trace of what he was. + He was very much pleased with the American reprint of his + Elia, though it contains several things which are not + his--written so in his style, however, that it is scarce a + wonder the editor should mistake them. If I remember right, + they were "Valentine's Day," the "Nuns of Caverswell," and + "Twelfth Night." He is excessively given to mystifying his + friends, and is never so delighted as when he has persuaded + some one into the belief of one of his grave inventions. His + amusing biographical sketch of Liston was in this vein, and + there was no doubt in anybody's mind that it was authentic, + and written in perfectly good faith. Liston was highly enraged + with it, and Lamb was delighted in proportion. + + There was a rap at the door at last, and enter a gentleman in + black small-clothes and gaiters, short and very slight in his + person, his head set on his shoulders with a thoughtful, + forward bent, his hair just sprinkled with gray, a beautiful, + deep-set eye, aquiline nose, and a very indescribable mouth. + Whether it expressed most humor or feeling, good nature or a + kind of whimsical peevishness, or twenty other things which + passed over it by turns, I can not in the least be certain. + + His sister, whose literary reputation is associated very + closely with her brother's, and who, as the original of + "Bridget Elia," is a kind of object for literary affection, + came in after him. She is a small, bent figure, evidently a + victim to illness, and hears with difficulty. Her face has + been, I should think, a fine and handsome one, and her bright + gray eye is still full of intelligence and fire. They both + seemed quite at home in our friend's chambers, and as there + was to be no one else, we immediately drew round the breakfast + table. I had set a large arm chair for Miss Lamb. "Don't take + it, Mary," said Lamb, pulling it away from her very gravely, + "it appears as if you were going to have a tooth drawn." + + The conversation was very local. Our host and his guest had + not met for some weeks, and they had a great deal to say of + their mutual friends. Perhaps in this way, however, I saw more + of the author, for his manner of speaking of them and the + quaint humor with which he complained of one, and spoke well + of another was so in the vein of his inimitable writings, that + I could have fancied myself listening to an audible + composition of a new Elia. Nothing could be more delightful + than the kindness and affection between the brother and the + sister, though Lamb was continually taking advantage of her + deafness to mystify her with the most singular gravity upon + every topic that was started. "Poor Mary!" said he, "she hears + all of an epigram but the point." "What are you saying of me, + Charles?" she asked. "Mr. Willis," said he, raising his voice, + "admires _your Confessions of a Drunkard_ very much, and I was + saying that it was no merit of yours, that you understood the + subject." We had been speaking of this admirable essay (which + is his own), half an hour before. + + The conversation turned upon literature after a while, and our + host, the templar, could not express himself strongly enough + in admiration of Webster's speeches, which he said were + exciting the greatest attention among the politicians and + lawyers of England. Lamb said, "I don't know much of American + authors. Mary, there, devours Cooper's novels with a ravenous + appetite, with which I have no sympathy. The only American + book I ever read twice, was the 'Journal of Edward Woolman,' a + quaker preacher and tailor, whose character is one of the + finest I ever met with. He tells a story or two about negro + slaves that brought the tears into my eyes. I can read no + prose now, though Hazlitt sometimes, to be sure--but then + Hazlitt is worth all modern prose writers put together." + + Mr. R. spoke of buying a book of Lamb's, a few days before, + and I mentioned my having bought a copy of Elia the last day I + was in America, to send as a parting gift to one of the most + lovely and talented women in our country. + + "What did you give for it?" said Lamb. + + "About seven and sixpence." + + "Permit me to pay you that," said he, and with the utmost + earnestness he counted out the money upon the table. + + "I never yet wrote anything that would sell," he continued. "I + am the publisher's ruin. My last poem won't sell a copy. Have + you seen it, Mr. Willis?" + + I had not. + + "It's only eighteen pence, and I'll give you sixpence toward + it;" and he described to me where I should find it sticking up + in a shop-window in the Strand. + + Lamb ate nothing, and complained in a querulous tone of the + veal pie. There was a kind of potted fish (of which I forget + the name at this moment), which he had expected our friend + would procure for him. He inquired whether there was not a + morsel left perhaps in the bottom of the last pot. Mr. R. was + not sure. + + "Send and see," said Lamb, "and if the pot has been cleaned, + bring me the cover. I think the sight of it would do me good." + + The cover was brought, upon which there was a picture of the + fish. Lamb kissed it with a reproachful look at his friend, + and then left the table and began to wander round the room + with a broken, uncertain step, as if he almost forgot to put + one leg before the other. His sister rose after a while, and + commenced walking up and down, very much in the same manner, + on the opposite side of the table, and in the course of half + an hour they took their leave. + + To any one who loves the writings of Charles Lamb with but + half my own enthusiasm, even these little particulars of an + hour passed in his company, will have an interest. To him who + does not, they will seem dull and idle. Wreck as he certainly + is, and must be, however, of what he was, I would rather have + seen him for that single hour, than the hundred and one sights + of London put together. + + + + +LETTER LXXI. + + DINNER AT LADY BLESSINGTON'S--BULWER, D'ISRAELI, PROCTER, + FONBLANC, ETC.--ECCENTRICITIES OF BECKFORD, AUTHOR OF + VATHEK--D'ISRAELI'S EXTRAORDINARY TALENT AT DESCRIPTION. + + +Dined at Lady Blessington's, in company with several authors, three or +four noblemen, and a clever exquisite or two. The authors were Bulwer, +the novelist, and his brother, the statist; Procter (better known as +Barry Cornwall), D'Israeli, the author of Vivian Grey; and Fonblanc, +of the Examiner. The principal nobleman was Lord Durham, and the +principal exquisite (though the word scarce applies to the magnificent +scale on which nature has made him, and on which he makes himself), +was Count D'Orsay. There were plates for twelve. + +I had never seen Procter, and, with my passionate love for his poetry, +he was the person at table of the most interest to me. He came late, +and as twilight was just darkening the drawing-room, I could only see +that a small man followed the announcement, with a remarkably timid +manner, and a very white forehead. + +D'Israeli had arrived before me, and sat in the deep window, looking +out upon Hyde Park, with the last rays of daylight reflected from the +gorgeous gold flowers of a splendidly embroidered waistcoat. Patent +leather pumps, a white stick, with a black cord and tassel, and a +quantity of chains about his neck and pockets, served to make him, +even in the dim light, rather a conspicuous object. + +Bulwer was very badly dressed, as usual, and wore a flashy waistcoat +of the same description as D'Israeli's. Count D'Orsay was very +splendid, but very undefinable. He seemed showily dressed till you +looked to particulars, and then it seemed only a simple thing, well +fitted to a very magnificent person. Lord Albert Conyngham was a dandy +of common materials; and my Lord Durham, though he looked a young man, +if he passed for a lord at all in America, would pass for a very +ill-dressed one. + +For Lady Blessington, she is one of the most handsome, and, quite the +best-dressed woman in London; and, without farther description, I +trust the readers of the Mirror will have little difficulty in +imagining a scene that, taking a wild American into the account, was +made up of rather various material. + +The blaze of lamps on the dinner table was very favorable to my +curiosity, and as Procter and D'Israeli sat directly opposite me, I +studied their faces to advantage. Barry Cornwall's forehead and eye +are all that would strike you in his features. His brows are heavy; +and his eye, deeply sunk, has a quick, restless fire, that would have +arrested my attention, I think, had I not known he was a poet. His +voice has the huskiness and elevation of a man more accustomed to +think than converse, and it was never heard except to give a brief and +very condensed opinion, or an illustration, admirably to the point, of +the subject under discussion. He evidently felt that he was only an +observer in the party. + +D'Israeli has one of the most remarkable faces I ever saw. He is +lividly pale, and but for the energy of his action and the strength of +his lungs, would seem a victim to consumption. His eye is black as +Erebus, and has the most mocking and lying-in-wait sort of expression +conceivable. His mouth is alive with a kind of working and impatient +nervousness, and when he has burst forth, as he does constantly, with +a particularly successful cataract of expression, it assumes a curl of +triumphant scorn that would be worthy of a Mephistopheles. His hair is +as extraordinary as his taste in waistcoats. A thick heavy mass of jet +black ringlets falls over his left cheek almost to his collarless +stock, while on the right temple it is parted and put away with the +smooth carefulness of a girl's, and shines most unctiously, + + "With thy incomparable oil, Macassar!" + +The anxieties of the first course, as usual, kept every mouth occupied +for a while, and then the dandies led off with a discussion of Count +D'Orsay's rifle match (he is the best rifle-shot in England), and +various matters as uninteresting to transatlantic readers. The new +poem, Philip Van Artevald's, came up after a while, and was very much +over-praised (_me judice_). Bulwer said, that as the author was the +principle writer for the Quarterly Review, it was a pity it was first +praised in that periodical, and praised so unqualifiedly. Procter said +nothing about it, and I respected his silence; for, as a poet, he must +have felt the poverty of the poem, and was probably unwilling to +attack a new aspirant in his laurels. + +The next book discussed was Beckford's Italy, or rather the next +author, for the _writer_ of Vathek is more original, and more talked +of than his books, and just now occupies much of the attention of +London. Mr. Beckford has been all his life enormously rich, has +luxuriated in every country with the fancy of a poet, and the refined +splendor of a Sybarite, was the admiration of Lord Byron, who visited +him at Cintra, was the owner of Fonthill, and, _plus fort encore_, his +is one of the oldest families in England. What could such a man +attempt that would not be considered extraordinary! + +D'Israeli was the only one at table who knew him, and the style in +which he gave a sketch of his habits and manners, was worthy of +himself. I might as well attempt to gather up the foam of the sea, as +to convey an idea of the extraordinary language in which he clothed +his description. There were, at least, five words in every sentence +that must have been very much astonished at the use they were put to, +and yet no others apparently, could so well have conveyed his idea. He +talked like a race-horse approaching the winning-post, every muscle in +action, and the utmost energy of expression flung out in every burst. +It is a great pity he is not in parliament.[11] + +The particulars he gave of Beckford, though stripped of his gorgeous +digressions and parentheses, may be interesting. He lives now at Bath, +where he has built a house on two sides of the street, connected by a +covered bridge _a la Ponte de Sospiri_, at Venice. His servants live +on one side, and he and his sole companion on the other. This +companion is a hideous dwarf, who imagines himself, or is, a Spanish +duke; and Mr. Beckford for many years has supported him in a style +befitting his rank, treats him with all the deference due to his +title, and has, in general, no other society (I should not wonder, +myself, if it turned out to be a woman); neither of them is often +seen, and when in London, Mr. Beckford is only to be approached +through his man of business. If you call, he is not at home. If you +would leave a card or address him a note, his servant has strict +orders not to take in anything of the kind. At Bath, he has built a +high tower, which is a great mystery to the inhabitants. Around the +interior, to the very top, it is lined with books, approachable with a +light spiral staircase; and in the pavement below, the owner has +constructed a double crypt for his own body, and that of his dwarf +companion, intending, with a desire for human neighborhood which has +not appeared in his life, to leave the library to the city, that all +who enjoy it shall pass over the bodies below. + +Mr. Beckford thinks very highly of his own books, and talks of his +early production (Vathek), in terms of unbounded admiration. He speaks +slightingly of Byron, and of his praise, and affects to despise +utterly the popular taste. It appeared altogether, from D'Israeli's +account, that he is a splendid egotist, determined to free life as +much as possible from its usual fetters, and to enjoy it to the +highest degree of which his genius, backed by an immense fortune, is +capable. He is reputed, however, to be excessively liberal, and to +exercise his ingenuity to contrive secret charities in his +neighborhood. + +Victor Hugo and his extraordinary novels came next under discussion; +and D'Israeli, who was fired with his own eloquence, started off, +_apropos des bottes_, with a long story of an empalement he had seen +in Upper Egypt. It was as good, and perhaps as authentic, as the +description of the chow-chow-tow in Vivian Grey. He had arrived at +Cairo on the third day after the man was transfixed by two stakes +from hip to shoulder, and he was still alive! The circumstantiality of +the account was equally horrible and amusing. Then followed the +sufferer's history, with a score of murders and barbarities, heaped +together like Martin's Feast of Belshazzer, with a mixture of horror +and splendor, that was unparalleled in my experience of improvisation. +No mystic priest of the Corybantes could have worked himself up into a +finer phrensy of language. + +Count D'Orsay kept up, through the whole of the conversation and +narration, a running fire of witty parentheses, half French and half +English; and with champaign in all the pauses, the hours flew on very +dashingly. Lady Blessington left us toward midnight, and then the +conversation took a rather political turn, and something was said of +O'Connell. D'Israeli's lips were playing upon the edge of a champaign +glass, which he had just drained, and off he shot again with a +description of an interview he had had with the agitator the day +before, ending in a story of an Irish dragoon who was killed in the +peninsula. His name was Sarsfield. His arm was shot off, and he was +bleeding to death. When told that he could not live, he called for a +large silver goblet, out of which he usually drank his claret. He held +it to the gushing artery and filled it to the brim with blood, looked +at it a moment, turned it out slowly upon the ground, muttering to +himself, "If that had been shed for old Ireland!" and expired. You can +have no idea how thrillingly this little story was told. Fonblanc, +however, who is a cold political satirist, could see nothing in a +man's "decanting his claret," that was in the least sublime, and so +Vivian Grey got into a passion, and for a while was silent. + +Bulwer asked me if there was any distinguished literary American in +town. I said, Mr. Slidell one of our best writers, was here. + +"Because," said he, "I received, a week or more ago, a letter of +introduction by some one from Washington Irving. It lay on the table, +when a lady came in to call on my wife, who seized upon it as an +autograph, and immediately left town, leaving me with neither name nor +address." + +There was a general laugh and a cry of "Pelham! Pelham!" as he +finished his story. Nobody chose to believe it. + +"I think the name _was_ Slidell," said Bulwer. + +"Slidell!" said D'Israeli, "I owe him two-pence, by Jove!" and he went +on in his dashing way to narrate that he had sat next Mr. Slidell at a +bull-fight in Seville, that he wanted to buy a fan to keep off the +flies, and having nothing but doubloons in his pocket, Mr. S. had lent +him a small Spanish coin to that value, which he owed him to this day. + +There was another general laugh, and it was agreed that on the whole +the Americans were "_done_." + +Apropos to this, D'Israeli gave us a description in a gorgeous, +burlesque, galloping style, of a Spanish bull-fight; and when we were +nearly dead with laughing at it, some one made a move, and we went up +to Lady Blessington in the drawing-room. Lord Durham requested her +ladyship to introduce him, particularly, to D'Israeli (the effect of +his eloquence). I sat down in the corner with Sir Martin Shee, the +president of the Royal Academy, and had a long talk about Allston and +Harding and Cole, whose pictures he knew; and "somewhere in the small +hours," we took our leave, and Procter left me at my door in Cavendish +street weary, but in a better humor with the world than usual. + + +FOOTNOTE: + +[11] I have been told that he stood once for a London borough. A +coarse fellow came up at the hustings, and said to him, "I should like +to know on what ground you stand here, sir?" "On my head, sir!" +answered D'Israeli. The populace had not read Vivian Grey, however, +and he lost his election. + + + + +LETTER LXXII. + + THE ITALIAN OPERA--MADEMOISELLE GRISI--A GLANCE AT LORD + BROUGHAM--MRS. NORTON AND LORD SEFTON--RAND, THE AMERICAN + PORTRAIT PAINTER--AN EVENING PARTY AT BULWER'S--PALMY STATE OF + LITERATURE IN MODERN DAYS--FASHIONABLE NEGLECT OF FEMALES-- + PERSONAGES PRESENT--SHIEL THE ORATOR, THE PRINCE OF MOSCOWA, + MRS. LEICESTER STANHOPE, THE CELEBRATED BEAUTY, ETC., ETC. + + +Went to the opera to hear Julia Grisi. I stood out the first act in +the pit, and saw instances of rudeness in "Fop's-alley," which I had +never seen approached in three years on the continent. The high price +of tickets, one would think, and the necessity of appearing in full +dress, would keep the opera clear of low-bred people; but the conduct +to which I refer seemed to excite no surprise and passed off without +notice, though, in America, there would have been ample matter for at +least, four duels. + +Grisi is young, very pretty, and an admirable actress--three great +advantages to a singer. Her voice is under absolute command, and she +manages it beautifully, but it wants the infusion of Malibran. You +merely feel that Grisi is an accomplished artist, while Malibran melts +all your criticism into love and admiration. I am easily moved by +music, but I came away without much enthusiasm for the present passion +of London. + +The opera-house is very different from those on the continent. The +stage only is lighted abroad, the single lustre from the ceiling just +throwing that _clair obscure_ over the boxes, so favorable to Italian +complexions and morals. Here, the dress circles are lighted with +bright chandeliers, and the whole house sits in such a blaze of light +as leaves no approach even, to a lady, unseen. The consequence is that +people here dress much more, and the opera, if less interesting to the +_habitué_, is a gayer thing to the many. + +I went up to Lady Blessington's box for a moment, and found +Strangways, the traveller, and several other distinguished men with +her. Her ladyship pointed out to me Lord Brougham, flirting +desperately with a pretty woman on the opposite side of the house, his +mouth going with the convulsive twitch which so disfigures him, and +his most unsightly of pug-noses in the strongest relief against the +red lining behind. There never was a plainer man. The Honorable Mrs. +Norton, Sheridan's daughter, and poetess, sat nearer to us, looking +like a queen, certainly one of the most beautiful women I ever looked +upon; and the gastronomic and humpbacked Lord Sefton, said to be the +best judge of cookery in the world, sat in the "dandy's omnibus," a +large box on a level with the stage, leaning forward with his chin on +his knuckles, and waiting with evident impatience for the appearance +of Fanny Elssler in the _ballet_. Beauty and all, the English +opera-house surpasses anything I have seen in the way of a spectacle. + +An evening party at Bulwer's. Not yet perfectly initiated in London +hours, I arrived, not far from eleven, and found Mrs. Bulwer alone in +her illuminated rooms, whiling away an expectant hour in playing with +a King Charles spaniel, that seemed by his fondness and delight to +appreciate the excessive loveliness of his mistress. As far off as +America, I may express, even in print, an admiration which is no +heresy in London. + +The author of Pelham is a younger son and depends on his writings for +a livelihood, and truly, measuring works of fancy by what they will +bring, (not an unfair standard perhaps), a glance around his luxurious +and elegant rooms is worth reams of puff in the quarterlies. He lives +in the heart of the fashionable quarter of London, where rents are +ruinously extravagant, entertains a great deal, and is expensive in +all his habits, and for this pay Messrs. Clifford, Pelham, and +Aram--(it would seem), most excellent good bankers. As I looked at the +beautiful woman seated on the costly ottoman before me, waiting to +receive the rank and fashion of London, I thought that old +close-fisted literature never had better reason for his partial +largess. I half forgave the miser for starving a wilderness of poets. + +One of the first persons who came was Lord Byron's sister, a thin, +plain, middle-aged woman, of a very serious countenance, and with very +cordial and pleasing manners. The rooms soon filled, and two professed +singers went industriously to work in their vocation at the piano; +but, except one pale man, with staring hair, whom I took to be a poet, +nobody pretended to listen. + +Every second woman has some strong claim to beauty in England, and the +proportion of those who just miss it, by a hair's breadth as it +were--who seem really to have been meant for beauties by nature, but +by a slip in the moulding or pencilling are imperfect copies of the +design--is really extraordinary. One after another entered, as I stood +near the door with my old friend Dr. Bowring for a nomenclator, and +the word "lovely" or "charming," had not passed my lips before some +change in the attitude, or unguarded animation had exposed the flaw, +and the hasty homage (for homage it is, and an idolatrous one, that we +pay to the beauty of woman), was coldly and unsparingly retracted. +From a goddess upon earth to a slighted and unattractive trap for +matrimony is a long step, but taken on so slight a defect sometimes, +as, were they marble, a sculptor would etch away with his nail. + +I was surprised (and I have been struck with the same thing at several +parties I have attended in London), at the neglect with which the +female part of the assemblage is treated. No young man ever seems to +dream of speaking to a lady, except to ask her to dance. There they +sit with their mamas, their hands hung over each other before them in +the received attitude; and if there happens to be no dancing (as at +Bulwer's), looking at a print, or eating an ice, is for them the most +enlivening circumstance of the evening. As well as I recollect, it is +better managed in America, and certainly society is quite another +thing in France and Italy. Late in the evening a charming girl, who is +the reigning belle of Naples, came in with her mother from the opera, +and I made the remark to her. "I detest England for that very reason," +she said frankly. "It is the fashion in London for the young men to +prefer everything to the society of women. They have their clubs, +their horses, their rowing matches, their hunting and betting, and +everything else is a _bore_! How different are the same men at Naples! +They can never get enough of one there! We are surrounded and run +after, + + "'Our poodle dog is quite adored, + Our sayings are extremely quoted,' + +"and really, one feels that one _is_ a belle." She mentioned several +of the beaux of last winter who had returned to England. "Here I have +been in London a month, and these very men that were dying for me, at +my side every day on the _Strada Nuova_, and all but fighting to dance +three times with me of an evening, have only left their cards! Not +because they care less about me, but because it is 'not the +fashion'--it would be talked of at the club, it is 'knowing' to let us +alone." + +There were only three men in the party, which was a very crowded one, +who could come under the head of _beaux_. Of the remaining part, there +was much that was distinguished, both for rank and talent. Sheil, the +Irish orator, a small, dark, deceitful, but talented-looking man, with +a very disagreeable squeaking voice, stood in a corner, very earnestly +engaged in conversation with the aristocratic old Earl of Clarendon. +The contrast between the styles of the two men, the courtly and mild +elegance of one, and the uneasy and half-bred, but shrewd earnestness +of the other, was quite a study. Fonblanc of the Examiner, with his +pale and dislocated-looking face, stood in the door-way between the +two rooms, making the amiable with a ghastly smile to Lady Stepney. +The 'bilious Lord Durham,' as the papers call him, with his Brutus +head, and grave, severe countenance, high-bred in his appearance, +despite the worst possible coat and trowsers, stood at the pedestal of +a beautiful statue, talking politics with Bowring; and near them, +leaned over a chair the Prince Moscowa, the son of Marshal Ney, a +plain, but determined-looking young man, with his coat buttoned up to +his throat, unconscious of everything but the presence of the +Honorable Mrs. Leicester Stanhope, a very lovely woman, who was +enlightening him in the prettiest English French, upon some point of +national differences. Her husband, famous as Lord Byron's companion in +Greece, and a great liberal in England, was introduced to me soon +after by Bulwer; and we discussed the Bank and the President, with a +little assistance from Bowring, who joined us with a paean for the old +general and his measures, till it was far into the morning. + + + + +LETTER LXXIII. + + BREAKFAST WITH BARRY CORNWALL--LUXURY OF THE FOLLOWERS OF THE + MODERN MUSE--BEAUTY OF THE DRAMATIC SKETCHES GAINS PROCTOR A + WIFE--HAZLITT'S EXTRAORDINARY TASTE FOR THE PICTURESQUE IN + WOMEN--COLERIDGE'S OPINION OF CORNWALL. + + +Breakfasted with Mr. Procter (known better as Barry Cornwall). I gave +a partial description of this most delightful of poets in a former +letter. In the dazzling circle of rank and talent with which he was +surrounded at Lady Blessington's, however, it was difficult to see so +shrinkingly modest a man to advantage, and with the exception of the +keen gray eye, living with thought and feeling, I should hardly have +recognised him, at home, for the same person. + +Mr. Procter is a barrister; and his "whereabout" is more like that of +a lord chancellor than a poet proper. With the address he had given me +at parting, I drove to a large house in Bedford square; and, not +accustomed to find the children of the Muses waited on by servants in +livery, I made up my mind as I walked up the broad staircase, that I +was blundering upon some Mr. Procter of the exchange, whose respect +for his poetical namesake, I hoped would smooth my apology for the +intrusion. Buried in a deep morocco chair, in a large library, +notwithstanding, I found the poet himself--choice old pictures, +filling every nook between the book-shelves, tables covered with +novels and annuals, rolls of prints, busts and drawings in all +corners; and, more important for the nonce, a breakfast table at the +poet's elbow, spicily set forth, not with flowers or ambrosia, the +canonical food of rhymers, but with cold ham and ducks, hot rolls and +butter, coffee-pot and tea-urn--as sensible a breakfast, in short, as +the most unpoetical of men could desire. + +Procter is indebted to his poetry for a very charming wife, the +daughter of Basil Montague, well known as a collector of choice +literature, and the friend and patron of literary men. The exquisite +beauty of the Dramatic Sketches interested this lovely woman in his +favor before she knew him, and, far from worldly-wise as an attachment +so grounded would seem, I never saw two people with a more habitual +air of happiness. I thought of his touching song, + + "How many summers, love, + Hast thou been mine?" + +and looked at them with an inexpressible feeling of envy. A beautiful +girl, of eight or nine years, the "golden-tressed Adelaide," delicate, +gentle and pensive, as if she was born on the lip of Castaly, and knew +she was a poet's child, completed the picture of happiness. + +The conversation ran upon various authors, whom Procter had known +intimately--Hazlitt, Charles Lamb, Keats, Shelley, and others, and of +all he gave me interesting particulars, which I could not well repeat +in a public letter. The account of Hazlitt's death-bed, which appeared +in one of the magazines, he said was wholly untrue. This extraordinary +writer was the most reckless of men in money matters, but he had a +host of admiring friends who knew his character, and were always ready +to assist him. He was a great admirer of the picturesque in women. He +was one evening at the theatre with Procter, and pointed out to him an +Amazonian female, strangely dressed in black velvet and lace, but with +no beauty that would please an ordinary eye. "Look at her!" said +Hazlitt, "isn't she fine!--isn't she magnificent? Did you ever see +anything more Titianesque?"[12] + +After breakfast, Procter took me into a small closet adjoining his +library, in which he usually writes. There was just room enough in it +for a desk and two chairs, and around were piled in true poetical +confusion, his favorite books, miniature likenesses of authors, +manuscripts, and all the interesting lumber of a true poet's corner. +From a drawer, very much thrust out of the way, he drew a volume of +his own, into which he proceeded to write my name--a collection of +songs, published since I have been in Europe, which I had never seen. +I seized upon a worn copy of the Dramatic Sketches, which I found +crossed and interlined in every direction. "Don't look at them," said +Procter, "they are wretched things, which should never have been +printed, or at least with a world of correction. You see how I have +mended them; and, some day, perhaps, I will publish a corrected +edition, since I can not get them back." He took the book from my +hand, and opened to "The Broken Heart," certainly the most +highly-finished and exquisite piece of pathos in the language, and +read it to me with his alterations. It was to "gild refined gold, and +paint the lily." I would recommend to the lovers of Barry Cornwall, to +keep their original copy, beautifully as he has polished his lines +anew. + +On a blank leaf of the same copy of the Dramatic Sketches, I found +some indistinct writing in pencil, "Oh! don't read that," said +Procter, "the book was given me some years ago, by a friend at whose +house Coleridge had been staying, for the sake of the criticisms that +great man did me the honor to write at the end." I insisted on reading +them, however, and his wife calling him out presently, I succeeded in +copying them in his absence. He seemed a little annoyed, but on my +promising to make no use of them in England, he allowed me to retain +them. They are as follows: + + "Barry Cornwall is a poet, _me saltem judice_, and in that + sense of the word, in which I apply it to Charles Lamb and W. + Wordsworth. There are poems of great merit, the authors of + which, I should not yet feel impelled so to designate. + + "The faults of these poems are no less things of hope than the + beauties. Both are just what they ought to be: i. e. _now_. + + "If B. C. be faithful to his genius, it in due time will warn + him that as poetry is the identity of all other knowledge, so + a poet can not be a great poet, but as being likewise and + inclusively an historian and a naturalist in the light as well + as the life of philosophy. All other men's worlds are his + chaos. + + "Hints--Not to permit delicacy and exquisiteness to seduce + into effeminacy. + + "Not to permit beauties by repetition to become mannerism. + + "To be jealous of fragmentary composition as epicurism of + genius--apple-pie made all of quinces. + + "Item. That dramatic poetry must be poetry hid in thought and + passion, not thought or passion hid in the dregs of poetry. + + "Lastly, to be economic and withholding in similes, figures, + etc. They will all find their place sooner or later, each in + the luminary of a sphere of its own. There can be no galaxy in + poetry, because it is language, _ergo_, successive, _ergo_ + every the smallest star must be seen singly. + + "There are not five metrists in the kingdom whose works are + known by me, to whom I could have held myself allowed to speak + so plainly; but B. C. is a man of genius, and it depends on + himself (_competence protecting him from gnawing and + distracting cares_), to become a rightful poet--i. e. a great + man. + + "Oh, for such a man; worldly prudence is transfigured into the + high spiritual duty. How generous is self-interest in him, + whose true self is all that is good and hopeful in all ages as + far as the language of Spenser, Shakspeare, and Milton, is the + mother tongue. + + "A map of the road to Paradise, drawn in Purgatory on the + confines of Hell, by S. T. C. July 30, 1819." + +I took my leave of this true poet after half a day passed in his +company, with the impression that he makes upon every one--of a man +whose sincerity and kind-heartedness were the most prominent traits in +his character. Simple in his language and feelings, a fond father, an +affectionate husband, businessman of the closest habits of +industry--one reads his strange imaginations, and passionate, +high-wrought, and even sublimated poetry, and is in doubt at which +most to wonder--the man as he is, or the poet as we know him in his +books. + + +FOOTNOTE: + +[12] The following story has been told me by another gentleman. +Hazlitt was married to an amiable woman, and divorced after a few +years, at his own request. He left London, and returned with another +wife. The first thing he did, was to send to his first wife to borrow +five pounds! She had not so much in the world, but she sent to a +friend (the gentleman who told me the story), borrowed it, and sent it +to him! It seems to me there is a whole drama in this single fact. + + + + +LETTER LXXIV. + + AN EVENING AT LADY BLESSINGTON'S--ANECDOTES OF MOORE, THE + POET--TAYLOR, THE PLATONIST--POLITICS--ELECTION OF + SPEAKER--PRICES OF BOOKS. + + +I am obliged to "gazette" Lady Blessington rather more than I should +wish, and more than may seem delicate to those, who do not know the +central position she occupies in the circle of talent in London. Her +soirées and dinner-parties, however, are literally the single and only +assemblages of men of genius, without reference to party--the only +attempt at a republic of letters in the world of this great, envious, +and gifted metropolis. The pictures of literary life, in which my +countrymen would be most interested, therefore, are found within a +very small compass, presuming them to prefer the brighter side of an +eminent character, and presuming them (_is_ it a presumption?), not to +possess that appetite for degrading the author to the man, by an +anatomy of his secret personal failings, which is lamentably common in +England. Having premised thus much, I go on with my letter. + +I drove to Lady Blessington's an evening or two since, with the usual +certainty of finding her at home, as there was no opera, and the equal +certainty of finding a circle of agreeable and eminent men about her. +She met me with the information that Moore was in town, and an +invitation to dine with her whenever she should be able to prevail +upon "the little Bacchus" to give her a day. D'Israeli, the younger, +was there, and Dr. Beattie, the king's physician (and author, +unacknowledged, of "The Heliotrope"), and one or two fashionable young +noblemen. + +Moore was naturally the first topic. He had appeared at the opera the +night before, after a year's ruralizing at "Sloperton cottage," as +fresh and young and witty as he ever was known in his youth--(for +Moore must be sixty at least). Lady B. said the only difference she +could see in his appearance, was the loss of his curls, which once +justified singularly his title of Bacchus, flowing about his head in +thin, glossy, elastic tendrils, unlike any other hair she had ever +seen, and comparable to nothing but the rings of the vine. He is now +quite bald, and the change is very striking. D'Israeli regretted that +he should have been met, exactly on his return to London, with the +savage but clever article in Fraser's Magazine on his plagiarisms. +"Give yourself no trouble about that," said Lady B., "for you may be +sure he will never see it. Moore guards against the sight and +knowledge of criticism as people take precautions against the plague. +He reads few periodicals, and but one newspaper. If a letter comes to +him from a suspicious quarter, he burns it unopened. If a friend +mentions a criticism to him at the club, he never forgives him; and, +so well is this understood among his friends, that he might live in +London a year, and all the magazines might dissect him, and he would +probably never hear of it. In the country he lives on the estate of +Lord Lansdowne, his patron and best friend, with half a dozen other +noblemen within a dinner-drive, and he passes his life in this +exclusive circle, like a bee in amber, perfectly preserved from +everything that could blow rudely upon him. He takes the world _en +philosophe_, and is determined to descend to his grave perfectly +ignorant, if such things as critics exist." Somebody said this was +weak, and D'Israeli thought it was wise, and made a splendid defence +of his opinion, as usual, and I agreed with D'Israeli. Moore deserves +a medal, as the happiest author of his day, to possess the power. + +A remark was made, in rather a satirical tone, upon Moore's +worldliness and passion for rank. "He was sure," it was said, "to have +four or five invitations to dine on the same day, and he tormented +himself with the idea that he had not accepted perhaps the most +exclusive. He would get off from an engagement with a Countess to dine +with a Marchioness, and from a Marchioness to accept the later +invitation of a Duchess; and as he cared little for the society of +men, and would sing and be delightful only for the applause of women, +it mattered little whether one circle was more talented than another. +Beauty was one of his passions, but rank and fashion were all the +rest." This rather left-handed portrait was confessed by all to be +just, Lady B. herself making no comment upon it. She gave, as an +offset, however, some particulars of Moore's difficulties from his +West Indian appointment, which left a balance to his credit. + +"Moore went to Jamaica with a profitable appointment. The climate +disagreed with him, and he returned home, leaving the business in the +hands of a confidential clerk, who embezzled eight thousand pounds in +the course of a few months and absconded. Moore's politics had made +him obnoxious to the government, and he was called to account with +unusual severity; while Theodore Hook, who had been recalled at this +very time from some foreign appointment, for a deficit of twenty +thousand pounds in his accounts, was never molested, being of the +ruling party, Moore's misfortune awakened a great sympathy among his +friends. Lord Lansdowne was the first to offer his aid. He wrote to +Moore, that for many years he had been in the habit of laying aside +from his income eight thousand pounds, for the encouragement of the +arts and literature, and that he should feel that it was well disposed +of for that year, if Moore would accept it, to free him from his +difficulties. It was offered in the most delicate and noble manner, +but Moore declined it. The members of "White's" (mostly noblemen) +called a meeting, and (not knowing the amount of the deficit) +subscribed in one morning twenty-five thousand pounds and wrote to the +poet, that they would cover the sum, whatever it might be. This was +declined. Longman and Murray then offered to pay it, and wait for +their remuneration from his works. He declined even this, and went to +Passy with his family, where he economized and worked hard till it was +cancelled." + +This was certainly a story most creditable to the poet, and it was +told with an eloquent enthusiasm, that did the heart of the beautiful +narrator infinite credit. I have given only the skeleton of it. Lady +Blessington went on to mention another circumstance, very honorable to +Moore, of which I had never before heard. "At one time two different +counties of Ireland had sent committees to him, to offer him a seat in +parliament; and as he depended on his writings for a subsistence, +offering him at the same time twelve hundred pounds a year, while he +continued to represent them. Moore was deeply touched with it, and +said no circumstance of his life had ever gratified him so much. He +admitted, that the honor they proposed him had been his most cherished +ambition, but the necessity of receiving a pecuniary support at the +same time, was an insuperable obstacle. He could never enter +parliament with his hands tied, and his opinions and speech fettered, +as they would be irresistibly in such circumstances." This does not +sound like "jump-up-and-kiss-me Tom Moore," as the Irish ladies call +him; but her ladyship vouched for the truth of it. It was worthy of an +old Roman. + +By what transition I know not, the conversation turned on Platonism, +and D'Israeli, (who seemed to have remembered the shelf on which +Vivian Grey was to find "the latter Platonists" in his father's +library) "flared up," as a dandy would say, immediately. His wild, +black eyes glistened, and his nervous lips quivered and poured out +eloquence; and a German professor, who had entered late, and the +Russian Chargé d'affaires who had entered later, and a whole +ottoman-full of noble exquisites, listened with wonder. He gave us an +account of Taylor, almost the last of the celebrated Platonists, who +worshipped Jupiter, in a back parlor in London a few years ago, with +undoubted sincerity. He had an altar and a brazen figure of the +Thunderer, and performed his devotions as regularly as the most pious +_sacerdos_ of the ancients. In his old age he was turned out of the +lodgings he had occupied for a great number of years, and went to a +friend in much distress to complain of the injustice. He had "only +attempted to worship his gods, according to the dictates of his +conscience." "Did you pay your bills?" asked the friend. "Certainly." +"Then what is the reason?" "His landlady had taken offence at his +_sacrificing a bull to Jupiter in his back parlor_!" + +The story sounded very Vivian-Greyish, and everybody laughed at it as +a very good invention; but D'Israeli quoted his father as his +authority, and it may appear in the Curiosities of Literature--where, +however, it will never be so well told, as by the extraordinary +creature from whom we had heard it. + + * * * * * + +_February 22d, 1835._--The excitement in London about the choice of a +Speaker is something startling. It took place yesterday, and the party +are thunderstruck at the non-election of Sir Manners Sutton. This is a +terrible blow upon them, for it was a defeat at the outset; and if +they failed in a question where they had the immense personal +popularity of the late Speaker to assist them, what will they do on +general questions? The House of Commons was surrounded all day with an +excited mob. Lady ---- told me last night that she drove down toward +evening, to ascertain the result (Sir C. M. Sutton is her +brother-in-law), and the crowd surrounded her carriage, recognizing +her as the sister of the tory Speaker, and threatened to tear the +coronet from the panels. "We'll soon put an end to your coronets," +said a rapscallion in the mob. The tories were so confident of success +that Sir Robert Peel gave out cards a week ago, for a soirée to meet +Speaker Sutton, on the night of the election. There is a general +report in town that the whigs will impeach the Duke of Wellington! +This looks like a revolution, does it not? It is very certain that the +Duke and Sir Robert Peel have advised the King to dissolve parliament +again, if there is any difficulty in getting on with the government. +The Duke was dining with Lord Aberdeen the other day, when some one at +table ventured to wonder, at his accepting a subordinate office in the +cabinet he had himself formed. "If I could serve his majesty better," +said the patrician soldier, "I would ride as king's messenger +to-morrow!" He certainly is a remarkable old fellow. + +Perhaps, however, literary news would interest you more. Bulwer is +publishing in a volume, his papers from the New Monthly. I met him an +hour ago in Regent-street, looking what is called in London, +"_uncommon seedy_!" He is either the worst or the best dressed man in +London, according to the time of day or night you see him. D'Israeli, +the author of Vivian Grey, drives about in an open carriage, with Lady +S----, looking more melancholy than usual. The absent baronet, whose +place he fills, is about bringing an action against him, which will +finish his career, unless he can coin the damages in his brain. Mrs. +Hemans is dying of consumption in Ireland. I have been passing a week +at a country house, where Miss Jane Porter, Miss Pardoe, and Count +Krazinsky (author of the Court of Sigismund), are domiciliated for the +present. Miss Porter is one of her own heroines, grown old--a still +handsome and noble wreck of beauty. Miss Pardoe is nineteen, +fair-haired, sentimental, and has the smallest feet and is the best +waltzer I ever saw, but she is not otherwise pretty. The Polish Count +is writing the life of his grandmother, whom I should think he +strongly resembled in person. He is an excellent fellow, for all that. +I dined last week with Joanna Baillie, at Hampstead--the most charming +old lady I ever saw. To-day I dine with Longman to meet Tom Moore, who +is living _incog._ near this Nestor of publishers at Hampstead. Moore +is fagging hard on his history of Ireland. I shall give you the +particulars of all these things in my letters hereafter. + +Poor Elia--my old favorite--is dead. I consider it one of the most +fortunate things that ever happened to me, to have seen him. I think +I sent you in one of my letters an account of my breakfasting in +company with Charles Lamb and his sister ("Bridget Elia") at the +Temple. The exquisite papers on his life and letters in the Athenæum, +are by Barry Cornwall. + +Lady Blessington's new book makes a great noise. Living as she does, +twelve hours out of the twenty-four, in the midst of the most +brilliant and mind-exhausting circle in London, I only wonder how she +found the time. Yet it was written in six weeks. Her novels sell for a +hundred pounds more than any other author's except Bulwer. Do you know +the _real_ prices of books? Bulwer gets _fifteen_ hundred pounds--Lady +B. _four_ hundred, Honorable Mrs. Norton _two_ hundred and fifty, Lady +Charlotte Bury _two_ hundred, Grattan _three_ hundred and most others +below this. D'Israeli can not sell a book _at all_, I hear. Is not +that odd? I would give more for one of his novels, than for forty of +the common _saleable_ things about town. + +The authoress of the powerful book called Two Old Men's Tales, is an +old unitarian lady, a Mrs. Marsh. She declares she will never write +another book. The other was a glorious one, though! + + + + +LETTER LXXV. + + LONDON--THE POET MOORE--LAST DAYS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT--MOORE'S + OPINION OF O'CONNELL--ANACREON AT THE PIANO--DEATH OF BYRON--A + SUPPRESSED ANECDOTE. + + +I called on Moore with a letter of introduction, and met him at the +door of his lodgings. I knew him instantly from the pictures I had +seen of him, but was surprised at the diminutiveness of his person. He +is much below the middle size, and with his white hat and long +chocolate frock-coat, was far from prepossessing in his appearance. +With this material disadvantage, however, his address is +gentleman-like to a very marked degree, and, I should think no one +could see Moore without conceiving a strong liking for him. As I was +to meet him at dinner, I did not detain him. In the moment's +conversation that passed, he inquired very particularly after +Washington Irving, expressing for him the warmest friendship, and +asked what Cooper was doing. + +I was at Lady Blessington's at eight. Moore had not arrived, but the +other persons of the party--a Russian count, who spoke all the +languages of Europe as well as his own; a Roman banker, whose dynasty +is more powerful than the pope's; a clever English nobleman, and the +"observed of all observers," Count D'Orsay, stood in the window upon +the park, killing, as they might, the melancholy twilight half hour +preceding dinner. + +"Mr. Moore!" cried the footman at the bottom of the staircase, "Mr. +Moore!" cried the footman at the top. And with his glass at his eye, +stumbling over an ottoman between his near-sightedness and the +darkness of the room, enter the poet. Half a glance tells you that he +is at home on a carpet. Sliding his little feet up to Lady Blessington +(of whom he was a lover when she was sixteen, and to whom some of the +sweetest of his songs were written), he made his compliments, with a +gayety and an ease combined with a kind of worshipping deference, that +was worthy of a prime-minister at the court of love. With the +gentlemen, all of whom he knew, he had the frank merry manner of a +confident favorite, and he was greeted like one. He went from one to +the other, straining back his head to look up at them (for, singularly +enough, every gentleman in the room was six feet high and upward), and +to every one he said something which, from any one else, would have +seemed peculiarly felicitous, but which fell from his lips, as if his +breath was not more spontaneous. + +Dinner was announced, the Russian handed down "milady," and I found +myself seated opposite Moore, with a blaze of light on his Bacchus +head, and the mirrors, with which the superb octagonal room is +pannelled, reflecting every motion. To see him only at table, you +would think him not a small man. His principal length is in his body, +and his head and shoulders are those of a much larger person. +Consequently he _sits tall_, and with the peculiar erectness of head +and neck, his diminutiveness disappears. + +The soup vanished in the busy silence that beseems it, and as the +courses commenced their procession, Lady Blessington led the +conversation with the brilliancy and ease, for which she is remarkable +over all the women of her time. She had received from Sir William +Gell, at Naples, the manuscript of a volume upon the last days of Sir +Walter Scott. It was a melancholy chronicle of imbecility, and the +book was suppressed, but there were two or three circumstances +narrated in its pages which were interesting. Soon after his arrival +at Naples, Sir Walter went with his physician and one or two friends +to the great museum. It happened that on the same day a large +collection of students and Italian literati were assembled, in one of +the rooms, to discuss some newly-discovered manuscripts. It was soon +known that the "Wizard of the North" was there, and a deputation was +sent immediately, to request him to honor them by presiding at their +session. At this time Scott was a wreck, with a memory that retained +nothing for a moment, and limbs almost as helpless as an infant's. He +was dragging about among the relics of Pompeii, taking no interest in +anything he saw, when their request was made known to him through his +physician. "No, no," said he, "I know nothing of their lingo. Tell +them I am not well enough to come." He loitered on, and in about half +an hour after, he turned to Dr. H. and said, "who was that you said +wanted to see me?" The doctor explained. "I'll go," said he, "they +shall see me if they wish it;" and, against the advice of his friends, +who feared it would be too much for his strength, he mounted the +staircase, and made his appearance at the door. A burst of +enthusiastic cheers welcomed him on the threshold, and forming in two +lines, many of them on their knees, they seized his hands as he +passed, kissed them, thanked him in their passionate language for the +delight with which he had filled the world, and placed him in the +chair with the most fervent expressions of gratitude for his +condescension. The discussion went on, but not understanding a +syllable of the language, Scott was soon wearied, and his friends +observed it, pleaded the state of his health as an apology, and he +rose to take his leave. These enthusiastic children of the south +crowded once more around him, and with exclamations of affection and +even tears, kissed his hands once more, assisting his tottering steps, +and sent after him a confused murmur of blessings as the door closed +on his retiring form. It is described by the writer as the most +affecting scene he had ever witnessed. + +Some other remarks were made upon Scott, but the _parole_ was soon +yielded to Moore, who gave us an account of a visit he made to +Abbotsford when its illustrious owner was in his pride and prime. +"Scott," he said, "was the most manly and natural character in the +world. You felt when with him, that he was the soul of truth and +heartiness. His hospitality was as simple and open as the day, and he +lived freely himself, and expected his guests to do so. I remember him +giving us whiskey at dinner, and Lady Scott met my look of surprise +with the assurance that Sir Walter seldom dined without it. He never +ate or drank to excess, but he had no system, his constitution was +herculean, and he denied himself nothing. I went once from a dinner +party with Sir Thomas Lawrence to meet Scott at Lockhart's. We had +hardly entered the room when we were set down to a hot supper of roast +chickens, salmon, punch, etc., etc., and Sir Walter ate immensely of +everything. What a contrast between this and the last time I saw him +in London! He had come down to embark for Italy--broken quite down in +mind and body. He gave Mrs. Moore a book, and I asked him if he would +make it more valuable by writing in it. He thought I meant that he +should write some verses, and said, 'Oh I never write poetry now.' I +asked him to write only his own name and hers, and he attempted it, +but it was quite illegible." + +Some one remarked that Scott's life of Napoleon was a failure. + +"I think little of it," said Moore; "but after all, it was an +embarrassing task, and Scott did what a wise man would do--made as +much of his subject as was politic and necessary, and no more." + +"It will not live," said some one else; "as much because it is a bad +book, as because it is the life of an individual." + +"But _what_ an individual!" Moore replied. "Voltaire's life of Charles +the Twelfth was the life of an individual, yet that will live and be +read as long as there is a book in the world, and what was he to +Napoleon?" + +O'Connell was mentioned. + +"He is a powerful creature," said Moore, "but his eloquence has done +great harm both to England and Ireland. There is nothing so powerful +as oratory. The faculty of '_thinking on his legs_,' is a tremendous +engine in the hands of any man. There is an undue admiration for this +faculty, and a sway permitted to it, which was always more dangerous +to a country than anything else. Lord Althorp is a wonderful instance +of what a man may do _without_ talking. There is a general confidence +in him--a universal belief in his honesty, which serves him instead. +Peel is a fine speaker, but, admirable as he had been as an +oppositionist, he failed, when he came to lead the house. O'Connell +would be irresistible were it not for the two blots on his +character--the contributions in Ireland for his support, and his +refusal to give satisfaction to the man he is still coward enough to +attack. They may say what they will of duelling, it is the great +preserver of the decencies of society. The old school, which made a +man responsible for his words, was the better. I must confess I think +so. Then, in O'Connell's case, he had not made his vow against +duelling when Peel challenged him. He accepted the challenge, and Peel +went to Dover on his way to France, where they were to meet; and +O'Connell pleaded his wife's illness, and delayed till the law +interfered. Some other Irish patriot, about the same time, refused a +challenge on account of the illness of his daughter, and one of the +Dublin wits made a good epigram on the two:-- + + "'Some men, with a horror of slaughter, + Improve on the scripture command, + And 'honor their'----wife and daughter-- + That their days may be long in the land.' + +"The great period of Ireland's glory was between '82 and '98, and it +was a time when a man almost lived with a pistol in his hand. +Grattan's dying advice to his son, was, 'Be always ready with the +pistol!' He, himself never hesitated a moment. At one time, there was +a kind of conspiracy to fight him out of the world. On some famous +question, Corrie was employed purposely to bully him, and made a +personal attack of the grossest virulence. Grattan was so ill, at the +time, as to be supported into the house between two friends. He rose +to reply; and first, without alluding to Corrie at all, clearly and +entirely overturned every argument he had advanced, that bore upon the +question. He then paused a moment, and stretching out his arm, as if +he would reach across the house, said, 'For the assertions the +gentleman has been pleased to make with regard to myself, my answer +_here_, is _they are false_! elsewhere, it would be--_a blow!_ They +met, and Grattan shot him through the arm. Corrie proposed another +shot, but Grattan said, 'No! let the curs fight it out!' and they were +friends ever after. I like the old story of the Irishman, who was +challenged by some desperate blackguard. 'Fight _him_!' said he, 'I +would sooner go to my grave without a fight! Talking of Grattan, is it +not wonderful that, with all the agitation in Ireland, we have had no +such men since his time? Look at the Irish newspapers. The whole +country in convulsions--people's lives, fortunes, and religion, at +stake, and not a gleam of talent from one year's end to the other. It +is natural for sparks to be struck out in a time of violence, like +this--but Ireland, for all that is worth living for, _is dead_! You +can scarcely reckon Shiel of the calibre of her spirits of old, and +O'Connell, with all his faults, stands 'alone in his glory.'" + +The conversation I have thus run together is a mere skeleton, of +course. Nothing but a short-hand report could retain the delicacy and +elegance of Moore's language, and memory itself cannot embody again +the kind of frost-work of imagery, which was formed and melted on his +lips. His voice is soft or firm as the subject requires, but perhaps +the word _gentlemanly_ describes it better than any other. It is upon +a natural key, but, if I may so phrase it, it is _fused_ with a +high-bred affectation, expressing deference and courtesy, at the same +time, that its pauses are constructed peculiarly to catch the ear. It +would be difficult not to attend to him while he is talking, though +the subject were but the shape of a wine-glass. + +Moore's head is distinctly before me while I write, but I shall find +it difficult to describe. His hair, which curled once all over it in +long tendrils, unlike anybody else's in the world, and which probably +suggested his _sobriquet_ of "Bacchus," is diminished now to a few +curls sprinkled with gray, and scattered in a single ring above his +ears. His forehead is wrinkled, with the exception of a most prominent +development of the organ of gayety, which, singularly enough, shines +with the lustre and smooth polish of a pearl, and is surrounded by a +semicircle of lines drawn close about it, like entrenchments against +Time. His eyes still sparkle like a champaign bubble, though the +invader has drawn his pencillings about the corners; and there is a +kind of wintry red, of the tinge of an October leaf, that seems +enamelled on his cheek, the eloquent record of the claret his wit has +brightened. His mouth is the most characteristic feature of all. The +lips are delicately cut, slight and changeable as an aspen; but there +is a set-up look about the lower lip, a determination of the muscle to +a particular expression, and you fancy that you can almost see wit +astride upon it. It is written legibly with the imprint of habitual +success. It is arch, confident, and half diffident, as if he were +disguising his pleasure at applause, while another bright gleam of +fancy was breaking on him. The slightly-tossed nose confirms the fun +of the expression, and altogether it is a face that sparkles, beams, +radiates,--everything but _feels_. Fascinating beyond all men as he +is, Moore looks like a worldling. + +This description may be supposed to have occupied the hour after Lady +Blessington retired from the table; for, with her, vanished Moore's +excitement, and everybody else seemed to feel, that light had gone out +of the room. Her excessive beauty is less an inspiration than the +wondrous talent with which she draws from every person around her his +peculiar excellence. Talking better than anybody else, and narrating, +particularly, with a graphic power that I never saw excelled, this +distinguished woman seems striving only to make others unfold +themselves; and never had diffidence a more apprehensive and +encouraging listener. But this is a subject with which I should never +be done. + +We went up to coffee, and Moore brightened again over his +_chasse-café_, and went glittering on with criticisms on Grisi, the +delicious songstress now ravishing the world, whom he placed above all +but Pasta; and whom he thought, with the exception that her legs were +too short, an incomparable creature. This introduced music very +naturally, and with a great deal of difficulty he was taken to the +piano. My letter is getting long, and I have no time to describe his +singing. It is well known, however, that its effect is only equalled +by the beauty of his own words; and, for one, I could have taken him +into my heart with my delight. He makes no attempt at music. It is a +kind of admirable recitative, in which every shade of thought is +syllabled and dwelt upon, and the sentiment of the song goes through +your blood, warming you to the very eyelids, and starting your tears, +if you have soul or sense in you. I have heard of women's fainting at +a song of Moore's; and if the burden of it answered by chance, to a +secret in the bosom of the listener, I should think, from its +comparative effect upon so old a stager as myself, that the heart +would break with it. + +We all sat around the piano, and after two or three songs of Lady +Blessington's choice, he rambled over the keys awhile, and sang "When +first I met thee," with a pathos that beggars description. When the +last word had faltered out, he rose and took Lady Blessington's hand, +said good-night, and was gone before a word was uttered. For a full +minute after he had closed the door, no one spoke. I could have +wished, for myself, to drop silently asleep where I sat, with the +tears in my eyes and the softness upon my heart. + + "Here's a health to thee, Tom Moore!" + + * * * * * + +I was in company the other evening where Westmacott, the sculptor, was +telling a story of himself and Leigh Hunt. They were together one day +at Fiesole, when a butterfly, of an uncommon sable color, alighted on +Westmacott's forehead, and remained there several minutes. Hunt +immediately cried out, "The spirit of some dear friend is departed," +and as they entered the gate of Florence on their return, some one met +them and informed them of the death of Byron, the news of which had at +that moment arrived. + + * * * * * + +I have just time before the packet sails to send you an anecdote, that +is _bought out_ of the London papers. A nobleman, living near Belgrave +square, received a visit a day or two ago from a police officer, who +stated to him, that he had a man-servant in his house, who had escaped +from Botany Bay. His Lordship was somewhat surprised, but called up +the male part of his household, at the officer's request, and passed +them in review. The culprit was not among them. The officer then +requested to see the _female_ part of the establishment; and, to the +inexpressible astonishment of the whole household, he laid his hand +upon the shoulder of the _lady's confidential maid_, and informed her +she was his prisoner. A change of dress was immediately sent for, and +miladi's dressing-maid was re-metamorphosed into an effeminate-looking +fellow, and marched off to a new trial. It is a most extraordinary +thing, that he had lived unsuspected in the family for nine months, +performing all the functions of a confidential Abigail, and very much +in favor with his unsuspecting mistress, who is rather a serious +person, and would as soon have thought of turning out to be a man +herself. It is said, that the husband once made a remark upon the +huskiness of the maid's voice, but no other comment was ever made, +reflecting in the least upon her qualities as a member of the _beau +sexe_. The story is quite authentic, but hushed up out of regard to +the lady. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Pencillings by the Way, by N. Parker Willis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PENCILLINGS BY THE WAY *** + +***** This file should be named 39179-8.txt or 39179-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/1/7/39179/ + +Produced by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Parker Willis + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license + + +Title: Pencillings by the Way + Written During Some Years of Residence and Travel in Europe + +Author: N. Parker Willis + +Release Date: March 17, 2012 [EBook #39179] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PENCILLINGS BY THE WAY *** + + + + +Produced by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="tnbox"> +<p class="center"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b></p> +<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. +Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation in the original +document have been preserved. +The author's use of accents was retained as printed.</p> +</div> + +<h1> +PENCILLINGS BY THE WAY:<br /><br /> +<span class="s05">WRITTEN</span><br /><br /> +<span class="s07">DURING SOME YEARS OF RESIDENCE AND TRAVEL</span><br /><br /> +<span class="s05">IN</span><br /><br /> +<span class="s08">EUROPE.</span></h1> + +<p class="center b13 p2">BY<br /><br /> +N. PARKER WILLIS.</p> + +<p class="center p4">NEW YORK:<br /> +CHARLES SCRIBNER, 124 GRAND STREET.</p> + +<p class="center s05">MDCCCLX.</p> + +<p class="center p6"><span class="s05">Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, by</span><br /> +CHARLES SCRIBNER,<br /> +<span class="s05">In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District +of New York.</span></p> + +<h2>PREFACE.</h2> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>A word or two of necessary explanation, dear reader.</p> + +<p>I had resided on the Continent for several years, and had been +a year in England, without being suspected, I believe, in the +societies in which I lived, of any habit of authorship. No production +of mine had ever crossed the water, and my Letters to +the New-York Mirror, were (for this long period, and I presumed +would be forever), as far as European readers were concerned, an +unimportant and easy secret. Within a few months of returning +to this country, the Quarterly Review came out with a severe +criticism on the Pencillings by the Way, published in the New-York +Mirror. A London publisher immediately procured a +broken set of this paper from an American resident there, and +called on me with an offer of £300 for an immediate edition of +what he had—rather less than one half of the Letters in this +present volume. This chanced on the day before my marriage, +and I left immediately for Paris—a literary friend most kindly +undertaking to look over the proofs, and suppress what might +annoy any one then living in London. The book was printed in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_VIII" id="Page_VIII">viii</a></span> +three volumes, at about $7 per copy, and in this expensive shape +three editions were sold by the original publisher. After his +death a duodecimo edition was put forth, very beautifully illustrated; +and this has been followed by a fifth edition lately published, +with new embellishments, by Mr. Virtue. The only +American edition (long ago out of print) was a literal copy of +this imperfect and curtailed book.</p> + +<p>In the present complete edition, the Letters objected to by the +Quarterly, are, like the rest, re-published <i>as originally written</i>. +The offending portions must be at any rate, harmless, after being +circulated extensively in this country in the Mirror, and prominently +quoted from the Mirror in the Quarterly—and this being +true, I have felt that I could gratify the wish to be put <i>fairly on +trial</i> for these alleged offences—to have a comparison instituted +between my sins, in this respect, and Hamilton's, Muskau's, Von +Raumer's, Marryat's and Lockhart's—and so, to put a definite +value and meaning upon the constant and vague allusions to these +iniquities, with which the critiques of my contemporaries abound. +I may state as a fact, that the only instance in which a quotation +by me from the conversation of distinguished men gave the least +offence in England, was the one remark made by Moore the poet +at a dinner party, on the subject of O'Connell. It would have +been harmless, as it was designed to be, but for the unexpected +celebrity of my Pencillings; yet with all my heart I wished it +unwritten.</p> + +<p>I wish to put on record in this edition (and you need not be at +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_IX" id="Page_IX">ix</a></span> +the trouble of perusing them unless you please, dear reader!) an +extract or two from the London prefaces to "Pencillings," and +parts of two articles written apropos of the book's offences.</p> + +<p>The following is from the Preface to the first London edition:—</p> + +<p>"The extracts from these Letters which have appeared in the +public prints, have drawn upon me much severe censure. Admitting +its justice in part, perhaps I may shield myself from its +remaining excess by a slight explanation. During several years' +residence in Continental and Eastern countries, I have had +opportunities (as <i>attaché</i> to a foreign Legation), of seeing phases +of society and manners not usually described in books of travel. +Having been the Editor, before leaving the United States, of a +monthly Review, I found it both profitable and agreeable, to continue +my interest in the periodical in which that Review was +merged at my departure, by a miscellaneous correspondence. +Foreign courts, distinguished men, royal entertainments, &c. &c.,—matters +which were likely to interest American readers more +particularly—have been in turn my themes. The distance of +America from these countries, and the ephemeral nature and +usual obscurity of periodical correspondence, were a sufficient +warrant to my mind, that the descriptions would die where they +first saw the light, and fulfil only the trifling destiny for which +they were intended. I indulged myself, therefore, in a freedom +of detail and topic which is usual only in posthumous memoirs—expecting +as soon that they would be read in the countries and +by the persons described, as the biographer of Byron and Sheridan, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_X" id="Page_X">x</a></span> +that these fruitful and unconscious themes would rise from +the dead to read their own interesting memoirs! And such a +resurrection would hardly be a more disagreeable surprise to that +eminent biographer, than was the sudden appearance to me of +my own unambitious Letters in the Quarterly Review.</p> + +<p>"The reader will see (for every Letter containing the least +personal detail has been most industriously republished in the +English papers) that I have in some slight measure corrected +these Pencillings by the Way. They were literally what they +were styled—notes written on the road, and despatched without a +second perusal; and it would be extraordinary if, between the +liberty I felt with my material, and the haste in which I scribbled, +some egregious errors in judgment and taste had not crept +in unawares. The Quarterly has made a long arm over the +water to refresh my memory on this point. There <i>are</i> passages +I would not re-write, and some remarks on individuals which I +would recall at some cost, and would not willingly see repeated in +these volumes. Having conceded thus much, however, I may +express my surprise that this particular sin should have been +visited upon <i>me</i>, at a distance of three thousand miles, when the +reviewer's own literary fame rests on the more aggravated instance +of a book of personalities, published under the very noses of the +persons described. Those of my Letters which date from England +were written within three or four months of my first arrival +in this country. Fortunate in my introductions, almost embarrassed +with kindness, and, from advantages of comparison, gained +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XI" id="Page_XI">xi</a></span> +by long travel, qualified to appreciate keenly the delights of +English society, I was little disposed to find fault. Everything +pleased me. Yet in one instance—one single instance—I +indulged myself in stricture upon individual character, and I +<i>repeat it in this work</i>, sure that there will be but one person in +the world of letters who will not read it with approbation—the +editor of the <i>Quarterly</i> himself. It was expressed at the time +with no personal feeling, for I had never seen the individual concerned, +and my name had probably never reached his ears. I +but repeated what I had said a thousand times, and never without +an indignant echo to its truth—an opinion formed from the +most dispassionate perusal of his writings—that the editor of that +Review was the most unprincipled critic of his age. Aside from +its flagrant literary injustice, we owe to the <i>Quarterly</i>, it is well +known, every spark of ill-feeling that has been kept alive between +England and America for the last twenty years. The sneers, +the opprobrious epithets of this bravo in literature, have been +received in a country where the machinery of reviewing was not +understood, as the voice of the English people, and an animosity +for which there was no other reason, has been thus periodically +fed and exasperated. I conceive it to be my duty as a literary +man—I <i>know</i> it is my duty as an American—to lose no opportunity +of setting my heel on the head of this reptile of criticism."</p> + +<p>The following is part of an article, written by myself, on the +subject of personalities, for a periodical in New York:</p> + +<p>"There is no question, I believe, that pictures of living society, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XII" id="Page_XII">xii</a></span> +where society is in very high perfection, and of living persons, +where they are "persons of mark," are both interesting to ourselves, +and valuable to posterity. What would we not give for a +description of a dinner with Shakspeare and Ben Jonson—of a +dance with the Maids of Queen Elizabeth—of a chat with Milton +in a morning call? We should say the man was a churl, who, +when he had the power, should have refused to 'leave the world +a copy' of such precious hours. Posterity will decide who are +the great of our time—but they are at least <i>among</i> those I have +heard talk, and have described and quoted, and who would read +without interest, a hundred years hence, a character of the +second Virgin Queen, caught as it was uttered in a ball-room of +her time? or a description of her loveliest Maid of Honor, by +one who had stood opposite her in a dance, and wrote it before +he slept? or a conversation with Moore or Bulwer?—when the +Queen and her fairest maid, and Moore and Bulwer have had +their splendid funerals, and are dust, like Elizabeth and Shakspeare?</p> + +<p>"The harm, if harm there be in such sketches, is in the spirit +in which they are done. If they are ill-natured or untrue, or if +the author says aught to injure the feelings of those who have +admitted him to their confidence or hospitality, he is to blame, +and it is easy, since he publishes while his subjects are living, to +correct his misrepresentations, and to visit upon him his infidelities +of friendship.</p> + +<p>"But (while I think of it), perhaps some fault-finder will be +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XIII" id="Page_XIII">xiii</a></span> +pleased to tell me, why this is so much deeper a sin in <i>me</i> than in +all other travellers. Has Basil Hall any hesitation in describing +a dinner party in the United States, and recording the conversation +at table? Does Miss Martineau stick at publishing the +portrait of a distinguished American, and faithfully recording all +he says in a confidential <i>tête-à-tête</i>? Have Captain Hamilton +and Prince Pukler, Von Raumer and Captain Marryat, any +scruples whatever about putting down anything they hear that is +worth the trouble, or of describing any scene, private or public, +which would tell in their book, or illustrate a national peculiarity? +What would their books be without this class of subjects? What +would any book of travels be, leaving out everybody the author +saw, and all he heard? Not that I justify all these authors have +done in this way, for I honestly think they have stepped over the +line, which I have but trod close upon."</p> + +<p>Surely it is the <i>abuse</i>, and not the <i>use</i> of information thus +acquired, that makes the offence.</p> + +<p>The most formal, unqualified, and severe condemnation +recorded against my Pencillings, however, is that of the renowned +Editor of the Quarterly, and to show the public the immaculate +purity of the forge where this long-echoed thunder is manufactured, +I will quote a passage or two from a book of the same +description, by the Editor of the Quarterly himself. 'Peter's +Letters to his Kinsfolk,' by Mr. Lockhart, are three volumes +exclusively filled with portraits of persons, living at the time it +was written in Scotland, their conversation with the author, their +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XIV" id="Page_XIV">xiv</a></span> +manners, their private histories, etc., etc. In one of the letters +upon the 'Society of Edinburgh,' is the following delicate passage:—</p> + +<p>"'Even you, my dear Lady Johnes, are a perfect history in +every branch of knowledge. I remember, only the last time I saw +you, you were praising with all your might the legs of Col. B——, +those flimsy, worthless things that look as if they were bandaged +with linen rollers from the heel to the knee. You may say what +you will, but I still assert, and I will prove it if you please by +pen and pencil, that, with one pair of exceptions, the best legs in +Cardigan are Mrs. P——'s. As for Miss J—— D——'s, I think +they are frightful.' * * * *</p> + +<p>"Two pages farther on he says:—</p> + +<p>"'As for myself, I assure you that ever since I spent a week +at Lady L——'s and saw those great fat girls of hers, waltzing +every night with that odious De B——, I can not endure the +very name of the thing.'</p> + +<p>"I quote from the second edition of these letters, by which it +appears that even these are <i>moderated</i> passages. A note to the +first of the above quotations runs as follows:</p> + +<p>"'A great part of this letter is omitted in the Second Edition +in consequence of the displeasure its publication gave to certain +ladies in Cardiganshire. As for the gentleman who chose to take +what I said of him in so much dudgeon, he will observe, that I +have allowed what I said to remain <i>in statu quo</i>, which I certainly +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XV" id="Page_XV">xv</a></span> +should not have done, had he expressed his resentment in a +proper manner.'</p> + +<p>"So well are these unfortunate persons' names known by those +who read the book in England, that in the copy which I have +from a circulating library, they are all filled out in pencil. And +I would here beg the reader to remark that these are private +individuals, compelled by no literary or official distinction to +come out from their privacy and figure in print, and in this, if +not in the <i>taste</i> and <i>quality</i> of my descriptions, I claim a fairer +escutcheon than my self-elected judge—for where is a person's +name recorded in my letters who is not either by tenure of +public office, or literary, or political distinction, a theme of daily +newspaper comment, and of course fair game for the traveller.</p> + +<p>"I must give one more extract from Mr. Lockhart's book, an +account of a dinner with a private merchant of Glasgow.</p> + +<p>"'I should have told you before, that I had another visiter +early in the morning, besides Mr. H. This was a Mr. P——, a +respectable merchant of the place, also an acquaintance of my +friend W——. He came before H——, and after professing +himself very sorry that his avocations would not permit him to +devote his forenoon to my service, he made me promise to dine +with him.... My friend soon joined me, and observing from +the appearance of my countenance that I was contemplating the +scene with some disgust,' (the Glasgow Exchange) 'My good +fellow,' said he, 'you are just like every other well-educated +stranger that comes into this town; you can not endure the first +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XVI" id="Page_XVI">xvi</a></span> +sight of us mercantile whelps. Do not, however, be alarmed; I +will not introduce you to any of these cattle at dinner. No, sir! +You must know that there are a few men of refinement and polite +information in this city. I have warned two or three of these +<i>raræ aves</i>, and depend upon it, you shall have a very snug <i>day's +work</i>.' So saying he took my arm, and observing that five was +<i>just on the chap</i>, hurried me through several streets and lanes +till we arrived in the ——, where his house is situated. His +wife was, I perceived, quite the fine lady, and, withal, a little of +the blue stocking. Hearing that I had just come from Edinburgh, +she remarked that Glasgow would be seen to much more disadvantage +after that elegant city. 'Indeed,' said she, 'a person +of taste, must, of course, find many disagreeables connected with +a residence in such a town as this; but Mr. P——'s business +renders the thing necessary for the present, and one can not +make a silk purse of a sow's ear—he, he, he!' Another lady of +the company, carried this affectation still farther; she pretended +to be quite ignorant of Glasgow and its inhabitants, although she +had lived among them the greater part of her life, and, by the +by, seemed no chicken. I was afterward told by my friend Mr. +H——, that this damsel had in reality sojourned a winter or two +in Edinburgh, in the capacity of <i>lick-spittle</i> or <i>toad-eater</i> to a +lady of quality, to whom she had rendered herself amusing by a +malicious tongue; and that during this short absence, she had +embraced the opportunity of utterly forgetting everything about +the West country. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XVII" id="Page_XVII">xvii</a></span></p> + +<p>"'The dinner was excellent, although calculated apparently +for forty people rather than sixteen, which last number sat down. +While the ladies remained in the room, there was such a noise +and racket of coarse mirth, ill restrained by a few airs of sickly +sentiment on the part of the hostess, that I really could neither +attend to the wine nor the dessert; but after a little time a very +broad hint from a fat Falstaff, near the foot of the table, apparently +quite a privileged character, thank Heaven! sent the ladies +out of the room. The moment after which blessed consummation, +the butler and footman entered, as if by instinct, the one +with a huge punch bowl, <i>the other with, &c.</i>'"</p> + +<p>I do thank Heaven that there is no parallel in my own letters +to either of these three extracts. It is a thing of course +that there is not. They are violations of hospitality, social confidence, +and delicacy, of which even my abusers will allow me +incapable. Yet this man accuses me of all these things, and so +runs criticism!</p> + +<p>And to this I add (to conclude this long Preface) some extracts +from a careful review of the work in the North American:—</p> + +<p>"'Pencillings by the Way,' is a very spirited book. The +letters out of which it is constructed, were written originally for +the New-York 'Mirror,' and were not intended for distinct publication. +From this circumstance, the author indulged in a freedom +of personal detail, which we must say is wholly unjustifiable, +and we have no wish to defend it. This book does not pretend to +contain any profound observations or discussions on national +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XVIII" id="Page_XVIII">xviii</a></span> +character, political condition, literature, or even art. It would +be obviously impossible to carry any one of these topics +thoroughly out, without spending vastly more time and labor upon +it than a rambling poet is likely to have the inclination to do. In +fact, there are very few men, who are qualified, by the nature of +their previous studies, to do this with any degree of edification to +their readers. But a man of general intellectual culture, especially +if he have the poetical imagination superadded, may give +us rapid sketches of other countries, which will both entertain +and instruct us. Now this book is precisely such a one as we +have here indicated. The author travelled through Europe, +mingling largely in society, and visited whatever scenes were +interesting to him as an American, a scholar, and a poet. The +impressions which these scenes made upon his mind, are described +in these volumes; and we must say, we have rarely fallen in with +a book of a more sprightly character, a more elegant and graceful +style, and full of more lively descriptions. The delineations +of manners are executed with great tact; and the shifting +pictures of natural scenery pass before us as we read, exciting a +never-ceasing interest. As to the personalities which have +excited the wrath of British critics, we have, as we said before, +no wish to defend them; but a few words upon the tone, temper, +and motives, of those gentlemen, in their dealing with our author, +will not, perhaps, be considered inappropriate.</p> + +<p>"It is a notorious fact, that British criticism, for many years +past, has been, to a great extent, free from all the restraints of a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XIX" id="Page_XIX">xix</a></span> +regard to literary truth. Assuming the political creed of an +author, it would be a very easy thing to predict the sort of criticism +his writings would meet with, in any or all of the leading +periodicals of the kingdom. This tendency has been carried so +far, that even discussions of points in ancient classical literature +have been shaped and colored by it. Thus, Aristophanes' comedies +are turned against modern democracy, and Pindar, the +Theban Eagle, has been unceremoniously classed with British +Tories, by the London Quarterly. Instead of inquiring 'What +is the author's object? How far has he accomplished it? How +far is that object worthy of approbation?'—three questions that +are essential to all just criticism; the questions put by English +Reviewers are substantially 'What party does he belong to? Is +he a Whig, Tory, Radical, or is he an American?' And the +sentence in such cases depends on the answer to them. Even +where British criticism is favorable to an American author, its +tone is likely to be haughty and insulting; like the language of a +condescending city gentleman toward some country cousin, whom +he is kind enough to honor with his patronage.</p> + +<p>"Now, to critics of this sort, Mr. Willis was a tempting mark. +No one can for a moment believe that the London Quarterly, +Frazer's Magazine, and Captain Marryat's monthly, are honest in +the language they hold toward Mr. Willis. Motives, wide +enough from a love of truth, guided the conduct of these journals. +The editor of the London Quarterly, it is well known, is the +author of 'Peter's Letters to his Kinsfolk,' a work full of personalities, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XX" id="Page_XX">xx</a></span> +ten times more objectionable than anything to be found +in the 'Pencillings.' Yet this same editor did not blush to +write and print a long and most abusive tirade upon the American +traveller, for doing what he had himself done to a much greater +and more reprehensible extent; and, to cap the climax of inconsistency, +republished in his journal the very personalities, names +and all, which had so shocked his delicate sensibilities. It is +much more likely that a disrespectful notice of the London +Quarterly and its editor, in these 'Pencillings,' was the source +from which this bitterness flowed, than that any sense of literary +justice dictated the harsh review. Another furious attack on +Mr. Willis's book appeared in the monthly journal, under the +editorial management of Captain Marryat, the author of a series +of very popular sea novels. Whoever was the author of that +article, ought to be held disgraced in the opinions of all honorable +men. It is the most extraordinary tissue of insolence and +coarseness, with one exception, that we have ever seen, in any +periodical which pretended to respectability of literary character. +It carries its grossness to the intolerable length of attacking the +private character of Mr. Willis, and throwing out foolish sneers +about his birth and parentage. It is this article which led to the +well-known correspondence, between the American Poet and the +British Captain, ending in a hostile meeting. It is to be regretted +that Mr. Willis should so far forget the principles of his New +England education, as to participate in a duel. We regard the +practice with horror; we believe it not only wicked, but absurd. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XXI" id="Page_XXI">xxi</a></span> +We can not possibly see how, Mr. Willis's tarnished fame could +be brightened by the superfluous work of putting an additional +quantity of lead into the gallant captain. But there is, perhaps, +no disputing about tastes; and, bad as we think the whole affair +was, no candid man can read the correspondence without feeling +that Mr. Willis's part of it, is infinitely superior to the captain's, +in style, sense, dignity of feeling, and manly honor.</p> + +<p>"But, to return to the work from which we have been partially +drawn aside. Its merits in point of style are unquestionable. +It is written in a simple, vigorous, and highly descriptive form of +English, and rivets the reader's attention throughout. There +are passages in it of graphic eloquence, which it would be difficult +to surpass from the writings of any other tourist, whatever. +The topics our author selects, are, as has been already stated, +not those which require long and careful study to appreciate and +discuss; they are such as the poetic eye would naturally dwell +upon, and a poetic hand rapidly delineate, in a cursory survey of +foreign lands. Occasionally, we think, Mr. Willis enters too +minutely into the details of the horrible. Some of his descriptions +of the cholera, and the pictures he gives us of the catacombs +of the dead, are ghastly. But the manners of society he +draws with admirable tact; and personal peculiarities of distinguished +men, he renders with a most life-like vivacity. Many of +his descriptions of natural scenery are more like pictures, than +sketches in words. The description of the Bay of Naples will +occur as a good example. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XXII" id="Page_XXII">xxii</a></span></p> + +<p>"It would be impossible to point out, with any degree of particularity, +the many passages in this book whose beauty deserves +attention. But it may be remarked in general, that the greater +part of the first volume is not so fresh and various, and animated, +as the second. This we suppose arises partly from the fact that +France and Italy have long been beaten ground.</p> + +<p>"The last part of the book is a statement of the author's +observations upon English life and society; and it is this portion, +which the English critics affect to be so deeply offended with. +The most objectionable passage in this is the account of a dinner +at Lady Blessington's. Unquestionably Mr. Moore's remarks +about Mr. O'Connell ought not to have been reported, considering +the time when, and the place where, they were uttered; +though they contain nothing new about the great Agitator, the +secrets disclosed being well known to some millions of people +who interest themselves in British politics, and read the British +newspapers. We close our remarks on this work by referring +our readers to a capital scene on board a Scotch steamboat, and +a breakfast at Professor Wilson's, the famous editor of Blackwood, +both in the second volume, which we regret our inability +to quote."</p> + +<p>"Every impartial reader must confess, that for so young a +man, Mr. Willis has done much to promote the reputation of +American literature. His position at present is surrounded with +every incentive to a noble ambition. With youth and health to +sustain him under labor; with much knowledge of the world +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XXIII" id="Page_XXIII">xxiii</a></span> +acquired by travel and observation, to draw upon; with a mature +style, and a hand practised in various forms of composition, Mr. +Willis's genius ought to take a wider and higher range than it +has ever done before. We trust we shall meet him again, ere +long, in the paths of literature; and we trust that he will take it +kindly, if we express the hope, that he will lay aside those tendencies +to exaggeration, and to an unhealthy tone of sentiment, +which mar the beauty of some of his otherwise most agreeable +books." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XXIV" id="Page_XXIV"></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XXV" id="Page_XXV"></a></span></p> + +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> +<hr class="l30" /> +<table summary="TOC"> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER I.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> </td> +<td> </td> +<td class="td_p"><span class="s07">PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Getting under Way—The Gulf Stream—Aspect of the Ocean—Formation of a Wave—Sea +Gems—The Second Mate,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER II.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">A Dog at Sea—Dining, with a High Sea—Sea Birds—Tandem of Whales—Speaking a +Man-of-War—Havre,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER III.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Havre—French Bed-room—The Cooking—Chance Impressions,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER IV.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Pleasant Companion—Normandy—Rouen—Eden of Cultivation—St. Denis—Entrance +to Paris—Lodgings—Walk of Discovery—Palais Royal,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER V.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Gallery of the Louvre—Greenough—Feeling as a Foreigner—Solitude in the Louvre—Louis +Philippe—The Poles—Napoleon II,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_40">40</a> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XXVI" id="Page_XXVI">xxvi</a></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER VI.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Taglioni—French Acting—French Applause—Leontine Fay,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER VII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Lelewel—Pére La Chaise—Pauvre Marie—Versailles—The Trianons—Josephine's +Boudoir—Time and Money at Paris—Wives and Fuel—One Price Shops,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER VIII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Mr. Cooper—Mr. Greenough—Fighting Animals—The Dog Pit—Fighting Donkey—Sporting +Englishmen,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER IX.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Malibran—Paris at a Late Hour—Glass Gallery—Cloud and Sunshine—General Romarino—Parisian +Students—Tumult Ended,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER X.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">French Children—Royal Equipages—French Driving—City Riding—Parisian Picturesque—Beggar's +Deception—Genteel Beggars,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XI.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Madame Mars—Franklin's House—Ball for the Poor—Theatrical Splendor—Louis +Philippe—Duke of Orleans—Young Queen of Portugal—Don Pedro—Close of the +Ball,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Champs Elysées—Louis Philippe—Literary Dinner—Bowring and others—The Poles—Dr. +Howe's Mission,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XIII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Club Gambling House—Frascati's—Female Gambler,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_103">103</a> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XXVII" id="Page_XXVII">xxvii</a></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XIV.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Tuileries—Men of Mark—Cooper and Morse—Contradictions—Dinner Hour—How to +Dine Well,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XV.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">The Emperor—Turenne—Lady Officer—Gambling Quarrel—Curious Antagonists—Influence +of Paris,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XVI.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Cholera Gaieties—Cholera Patient—Morning in Paris—Cholera Hospital—New Patient—Physician's +Indifference—Punch Remedy—Dead Room—Non-Contagion,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XVII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Unexpected Challenge—Court Presentation—Louis Philippe—Royal Family at Tea—Countess +Guiccioli—Mardi Gras—Bal Costumé—Public Masks—Lady Cavalier—Ball +at the Palace—Duke of Orleans—Dr. Bowring—Celebrated Men—Glass Verandah,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_131">131</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XVIII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Cholera—Social Tea Party—Recipe for Caution—Baths and Happiness,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_146">146</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XIX.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Bois de Boulogne—Guiccioli—Sismondi—Cooper,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_151">151</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XX.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Friend of Lady Morgan—Dr. Spurzheim—Cast-Taking—De Potter—David the +Sculptor,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXI.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Attractions of Paris—Mr. Cooper—Mr. Rives,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_162">162</a> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XXVIII" id="Page_XXVIII">xxviii</a></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Chalons—Sens—Auxerre—St. Bris—Three Views In One—Chalons,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXIII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Boat on the Saone—Scenery above Lyons—Lyons—Churches at Lyons—Monastery,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXIV.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Travelling Party—Breakfast on the Road—Localities of Antiquity—Picturesque Chateau—French +Patois,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_179">179</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXV.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Arles—The Cathedral—Marseilles—Parting with Companions—Pass of Ollioules—Toulon—Antibes—Coast +of Mediterranean—Forced to Return—Lazaretto—Absurd +Hindrances—Fear of Contagion—Sleep out of Doors—Lazaretto Occupations—Delicious +Sunday—New Arrivals—Companions—End of Quarantine,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXVI.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Nice—Funeral of an Arch-Duchess—Nice to Genoa—Views—Entrance to Genoa—Genoa,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_204">204</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXVII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">The Venus—The Fornarina—A Coquette and the Arts—A Festa—Ascension Day—The +Cascine—Madame Catalani,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_211">211</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXVIII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Titian's Bella—The Grand-Duchess—An Improvisatrice—Living in Florence—Lodgings +at Florence—Expense of Living,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_219">219</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXIX.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Companions—Scenery of Romagna—Wives—Bologna,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_225">225</a> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XXIX" id="Page_XXIX">xxix</a></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXX.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Gallery at Bologna—A Guido—Churches—Confession-Chapel—Festa—Agreeable +Manners,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_231">231</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXXI.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Regatta—Venetian Sunset—Privileged Admission—Guillotining—Bridge of Sighs—San +Marc—The Nobleman Beggar,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_238">238</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXXII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">An Evening in Venice—The Streets of Venice—The Rialto—Sunset from San Marc,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_246">246</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXXIII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Titian's Pictures—Last Day in Venice,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_251">251</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXXIV.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Italian Civility—Juliet's Tomb—The Palace of the Capuletti—A Dinner,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_254">254</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXXV.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Good and Ill-Breeding—Bridal Party,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_259">259</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXXVI.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Manner of Living—Originals of Novels—Ill,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_262">262</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXXVII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">The Duke of Lucca—Modena—The Palace—Bologna—Venice Again—Its Splendor,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_266">266</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXXVIII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Armenian Island—Agreeable Monk—Insane Hospital—Insane Patients—The Lagune—State +Galley—Instruments of Torture,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_273">273</a> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XXX" id="Page_XXX">xxx</a></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XXXIX.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Venice at Evening—The Patriotism of a Noble—Church of St. Antony—Petrarch's +Cottage and Tomb—Petrarch's Room,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_281">281</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XL.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Cultivation of the Fields—The Vintage—Malibran in Gazza Ladra—Gallery of the +Lambaccari,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_287">287</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XLI.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Sienna—Catholic Devotion—Acquapendente—Lake Bolsena—Vintage Festa—Monte +Cimino—First Sight of Rome—Baccano,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XLII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">St. Peter's—The Apollo Belvidere—Raphael's Transfiguration—The Pantheon—The +Forum,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_301">301</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XLIII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">The Falls of Tivoli—Villa of Adrian—A Ramble by Moonlight—The Cloaca +Maxima,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_307">307</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XLIV.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">The Last Judgment—The Music—Gregory the Sixteenth,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_312">312</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XLV.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Byron's Statue—The Borghese Palace—Society of Rome,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_316">316</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XLVI.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">The Climate—Falls of Terni—The Clitumnus—A Lesson not Lost—Thrasimene—Florence—Florentine +Women—Need of an Ambassador,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_320">320</a> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XXXI" id="Page_XXXI">xxxi</a></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XLVII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Chat in the Ante-Chamber—Love in High Life—Ball at the Palazzo Pitti—The Grand +Duke—An Italian Beauty—An English Beauty,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_329">329</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XLVIII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Oxen of Italy—Vallombrosa—A Convent Dinner—Vespers at Vallombrosa—The +Monk's Estimate of Women—Milton's Room—Florence,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_336">336</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER XLIX.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">The House of Michael Angelo—Fiesole—San Miniato—Christmas Eve—Amusing +Scenes in Church,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_344">344</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER L.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Penitential Processions—The Carlist Refugees—The Miracle of Rain—The Miraculous +Picture—Giovanni Di Bologna—Andrea Del Sarto,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_350">350</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LI.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">The Entertainments of Florence—A Peasant Beauty—The Morality of Society—The +Italian Cavalier—The Features of Society,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_357">357</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Artists and the French Academy—Beautiful Scenery—Sacred Woods of Bolsena,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_363">363</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LIII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">The Virtuoso of Viterbo—Robberies—Rome as Fancied—Rome as Found,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_367">367</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LIV.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">The Fountain of Egeria—The Pontine Marshes—Mola—The Falernian Hills—The +Doctor of St. Agatha—The Queen of Naples,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_372">372</a> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XXXII" id="Page_XXXII">xxxii</a></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LV.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">St. Peter's—The Fountains—The Obelisk—The Forum—Its Memories—The Cenci—Claude's +Pictures—Fancies Realized—The Last of the Dorias—A Picture by Leonardo +Da Vinci—Palace of the Cesars—An Hour on the Palatine,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_379">379</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LVI.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Roman Eyes versus Feet—Vespers at Santa Trinita—Roman Baths—Baths of Titus—Shelley's +Haunt,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_390">390</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LVII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">The Tomb of the Scipios—The Early Christians—The Tomb of Metella—Fountain of +Egeria—Changed Aspect of Rome,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_396">396</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LVIII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Palm Sunday—A Crowd—The Miserere—A Judas—The Washing of Feet—The +Dinner,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_402">402</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LIX.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">The Protestant Cemetery—Shelley's Grave—Beauty of the Place—Keats—Dr. Bell,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_409">409</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LX.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Audience with the Pope—Humility and Pride in Contrast—The Miserere at St. +Peter's—Italian Moonlight—Dancing at the Coliseum,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_415">415</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LXI.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Easter Sunday—The Pope's Blessing—Illumination of St. Peter's—Florentine Sociability—A +Marriage of Convenience,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_421">421</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LXII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">The Correggio—Austrians in Italy—The Cathedral at Milan—Guercino's Hagar—Milanese +Coffee,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_427">427</a> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XXXIII" id="Page_XXXIII">xxxiii</a></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LXIII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Still in Italy—Isola Bella—Ascent of the Simplon—Farewell to Italy—An American—Descent +of the Simplon,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_433">433</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LXIV.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">The Cretins—The Goitre—First Sight of Lake Leman—Mont Blanc—June in Geneva—The +Winkelreid,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_440">440</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LXV.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">American and Genevese Steamers—Lilies of the Valley—A Frenchman's Apology—Genevese +Women—Voltaire's Room,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_446">446</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LXVI.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">The Jura—Arrival at Morez—Lost my Temper—National Characteristics—Politeness +versus Comfort,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_452">452</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LXVII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Lafayette's Funeral—Crossing the Channel—An English Inn—Mail Coaches and +Horses—A Gentleman Driver—A Subject for Madame Trollope,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_458">458</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LXVIII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">First Dinner in London—The King's Birth-day—A Handsome Street—Introduction +to Lady Blessington—A Chat about Bulwer—The D'Israeli's—Contrast of Criticism—Countess +Guiccioli—Lady Blessington—An Apology,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_465">465</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LXIX.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">An Evening at Lady Blessington's—Fonblanc—Tribute to American Authors—A +Sketch of Bulwer—Bulwer's Conversation—An Author his own Critic,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_476">476</a> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_XXXIV" id="Page_XXXIV">xxxiv</a></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LXX.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Ascot Races—Handsome Men—The Princess Victoria—Charles Lamb—Mary Lamb—Lamb's +Conversation—The Breakfast at Fault,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_483">483</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LXXI.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">A Dinner at Lady Blessington's—D'Israeli, the Younger—The Author of Vathek—Mr. +Beckford's Whims—Irish Patriotism—The Effect of Eloquence,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_491">491</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LXXII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">The Opera House—What Books will pay for—English Beauty—A Belle's Criticism on +Society—Celebrities,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_498">498</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LXXIII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Breakfast with Proctor—A Story of Hazlitt—Procter as a Poet—Impressions of the +Man,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_504">504</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LXXIV.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Moore's Dread of Criticism—Moore's Love of Rank—A generous Offer nobly Refused—A +Sacrifice to Jupiter—The Election of Speaker—Miss Pardoe—Prices of Books,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_509">509</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_l" colspan="3">LETTER LXXV.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="td_d" colspan="2">Dinner at Lady Blessington's—Scott—The Italians—Scott's Mode of Living—O'Connell—Grattan—Moore's +Manner of Talking—Lady Blessington's Tact—Moore's Singing—A +Curious Incident—The Maid Metamorphosed,</td> +<td class="td_p"><a href="#Page_517">517</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<h2>PENCILLINGS BY THE WAY.</h2> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER I.</h3> + +<p class="ch_st"><span class="smcap">At Sea.</span>—I have emerged from my berth this morning for the +first time since we left the Capes. We have been running six or +seven days before a strong northwest gale, which, by the scuds in +the sky, is not yet blown out, and my head and hand, as you will +see by my penmanship, are anything but at rights. If you have +ever plunged about in a cold rain-storm at sea for seven successive +days, you can imagine how I have amused myself.</p> + +<p>I wrote to you after my pilgrimage to the tomb of Washington. +It was almost the only object of natural or historical interest in +our own country that I had not visited, and that seen, I made all +haste back to embark, in pursuance of my plans of travel, for +Europe. At Philadelphia I found a first-rate merchant-brig, +the Pacific, on the eve of sailing for Havre. She was nearly +new, and had a French captain, and no passengers—three very +essential circumstances to my taste—and I took a berth in her +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span> +without hesitation. The next day she fell down the river, and +on the succeeding morning I followed her with the captain in the +steamboat.</p> + +<p>Some ten or fifteen vessels, bound on different voyages, lay in +the roads waiting for the pilot boat; and, as she came down the +river, they all weighed anchor together and we got under way. +It was a beautiful sight—so many sail in close company under a +smart breeze, and I stood on the quarter-deck and watched them +in a mood of mingled happiness and sadness till we reached the +Capes. There was much to elevate and much to depress me. +The dream of my lifetime was about to be realized. I was +bound to France; and those fair Italian cities, with their world of +association and interest were within the limit of a voyage; and +all that one looks to for happiness in change of scene, and all +that I had been passionately wishing and imagining since I could +dream a day-dream or read a book, was before me with a visible +certainty; but my home was receding rapidly, perhaps for years, +and the chances of death and adversity in my absence crowded +upon my mind—and I had left friends—(many—many—as dear +to me, any one of them, as the whole sum of my coming enjoyment), +whom a thousand possible accidents might remove or +estrange; and I scarce knew whether I was more happy or sad.</p> + +<p>We made Cape Henlopen about sundown, and all shortened +sail and came to. The little boat passed from one to another, +taking off the pilots, and in a few minutes every sail was spread +again, and away they went with a dashing breeze, some on one +course some on another, leaving us in less than an hour, apparently +alone on the sea. By this time the clouds had grown +black, the wind had strengthened into a gale, with fits of rain; +and as the order was given to "close-reef the top-sails," I took a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span> +last look at Cape Henlopen, just visible in the far edge of the +horizon, and went below.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Oct. 18.</span>—It is a day to make one in love with life. The +remains of the long storm, before which we have been driven for +a week, lie, in white, turreted masses around the horizon, the +sky overhead is spotlessly blue, the sun is warm, the wind steady +and fresh, but soft as a child's breath, and the sea—I must +sketch it to you more elaborately. We are in the Gulf Stream. +The water here as you know, even to the cold banks of Newfoundland, +is always blood warm, and the temperature of the air +mild at all seasons, and, just now, like a south wind on land in +June. Hundreds of sea birds are sailing around us—the spongy +sea-weeds, washed from the West Indian rocks, a thousand miles +away in the southern latitudes, float by in large masses—the +sailors, barefoot and bareheaded, are scattered over the rigging, +doing "fair-weather work"—and just in the edge of the horizon, +hidden by every swell, stand two vessels with all sail spread, +making, with the first fair wind they have had for many days, +for America.</p> + +<p>This is the first day that I have been able to be long enough on +deck to study the sea. Even were it not, however, there has +been a constant and chilly rain which would have prevented me +from enjoying its grandeur, so that I am reconciled to my +unusually severe sickness. I came on deck this morning and +looked around, and for an hour or two I could scarce realize that +it was not a dream. Much as I had watched the sea from our +bold promontory at Nahant, and well as I thought I knew its +character in storms and calms, the scene which was before me +surprized and bewildered me utterly. At the first glance, we +were just in the gorge of the sea; and, looking over the leeward +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span> +quarter, I saw, stretching up from the keel, what I can only +describe as a hill of dazzling blue, thirty or forty feet in real altitude, +but sloped so far away that the white crest seemed to me a +cloud, and the space between a sky of the most wonderful beauty +and brightness. A moment more, and the crest burst over with +a splendid volume of foam; the sun struck through the thinner +part of the swell in a line of vivid emerald, and the whole mass +swept under us, the brig rising and riding on the summit with the +buoyancy and grace of a bird.</p> + +<p>The single view of the ocean which I got at that moment, will +be impressed upon my mind for ever. Nothing that I ever saw +on land at all compares with it for splendor. No sunset, no +lake scene of hill and water, no fall, not even Niagara, no glen +or mountain gap ever approached it. The waves had had no +time to "knock down," as the sailors phrase it, and it was a +storm at sea without the hurricane and rain. I looked off to the +horizon, and the long majestic swells were heaving into the sky +upon its distant limit, and between it and my eye lay a radius of +twelve miles, an immense plain flashing with green and blue and +white, and changing place and color so rapidly as to be almost +painful to the sight. I stood holding by the tafferel an hour, +gazing on it with a childish delight and wonder. The spray had +broken over me repeatedly, and, as we shipped half a sea at the +scuppers at every roll, I was standing half the time up to the +knees in water; but the warm wind on my forehead, after a +week's confinement to my berth, and the excessive beauty lavished +upon my sight, were so delicious, that I forgot all, and it was +only in compliance with the captain's repeated suggestion that I +changed my position.</p> + +<p>I mounted the quarter-deck, and, pulling off my shoes, like a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span> +schoolboy, sat over the leeward rails, and, with my feet dipping +into the warm sea at every lurch, gazed at the glorious show for +hours. I do not hesitate to say that the formation, progress, and +final burst of a sea-wave, in a bright sun, are the most gorgeously +beautiful sight under heaven. I must describe it like a jeweller +to you, or I can never convey my impressions.</p> + +<p>First of all, a quarter of a mile away to windward, your eye is +caught by an uncommonly high wave, rushing right upon your +track, and heaping up slowly and constantly as it comes, as if +some huge animal were ploughing his path steadily and powerfully +beneath the surface. Its "ground," as a painter would say, is +of a deep indigo, clear and smooth as enamel, its front curved +inward, like a shell, and turned over at the summit with a crest +of foam, flashing and changing perpetually in the sunshine, like +the sudden outburst of a million of "unsunned diamonds;" and, +right through its bosom, as the sea falls off, or the angle of +refraction changes, there runs a shifting band of the most vivid +green, that you would take to have been the cestus of Venus, as +she rose from the sea, it is so supernaturally translucent and +beautiful. As it nears you, it looks in shape like the prow of +Cleopatra's barge, as they paint it in the old pictures; but its +colors, and the grace and majesty of its march, and its murmur +(like the low tones of an organ, deep and full, and, to my +ear, ten times as articulate and solemn), almost startle you into +the belief that it is a sentient being, risen glorious and breathing +from the ocean. As it reaches the ship, she rises gradually, for +there is apparently an under-wave driven before it, which prepares +her for its power; and as it touches the quarter, the whole +magnificent wall breaks down beneath you with a deafening surge, +and a volume of foam issues from its bosom, green and blue and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span> +white, as if it had been a mighty casket in which the whole +wealth of the sea, crysoprase, and emerald, and brilliant spars, +had been heaped and lavished at a throw. This is the "tenth +wave," and, for four or five minutes, the sea will be smooth about +you, and the sparkling and dying foam falls into the wake, and +may be seen like a white path, stretching away over the swells +behind, till you are tired of gazing at it. Then comes another +from the same direction, and with the same shape and motion, +and so on till the sun sets, or your eyes are blinded and your +brain giddy with splendor.</p> + +<p>I am sure this language will seem exaggerated to you, but, +upon the faith of a lonely man (the captain has turned in, and it +is near midnight and a dead calm), it is a mere skeleton, a goldsmith's +inventory, of the reality. I long ago learned that first +lesson of a man of the world, "to be astonished at nothing," +but the sea has overreached my philosophy—quite. I am +changed to a mere child in my wonder. Be assured, no view of +the ocean from land can give you a shadow of an idea of it. +Within even the outermost Capes, the swell is broken, and the +color of the water in soundings is essentially different—more dull +and earthy. Go to the mineral cabinets of Cambridge or New +Haven, and look at the <i>fluor spars</i>, and the <i>turquoises</i>, and the +clearer specimens of <i>crysoprase</i>, and <i>quartz</i>, and <i>diamond</i>, and +imagine them all polished and clear, and flung at your feet by +millions in a noonday sun, and it may help your conceptions of +the sea after a storm. You may "swim on bladders" at Nahant +and Rockaway till you are gray, and be never the wiser.</p> + +<p>The "middle watch" is called, and the second mate, a fine +rough old sailor, promoted from "the mast," is walking the +quarter-deck, stopping his whistle now and then with a gruff +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span> +"How do you head?" or "keep her up, you lubber," to the man +at the helm; the "silver-shell" of a waning moon, is just visible +through the dead lights over my shoulder (it has been up two +hours, to me, and by the difference of our present merideans, is +just rising now over a certain hill, and peeping softly in at an +eastern window that I have watched many a time when its panes +have been silvered by the same chaste alchymy), and so after a +walk on the deck for an hour to look at the stars and watch the +phosphorus in the wake, I think of ——, I'll get to mine own +uneven pillow, and sleep too.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER II.</h3> + +<p class="ch_st"><span class="smcap">At Sea, October 20.</span>—We have had fine weather for progress, +so far, running with north and north-westerly winds from +eight to ten knots an hour, and making, of course, over two +hundred miles a day. The sea is still rough; and though the +brig is light laden and rides very buoyantly, these mounting +waves break over us now and then with a tremendous surge, keeping +the decks constantly wet, and putting me to many an uncomfortable +shiver. I have become reconciled, however, to much +that I should have anticipated with no little horror. I can lie in +my berth forty-eight hours, if the weather is chill or rainy, and +amuse myself very well with talking bad French across the cabin +to the captain, or laughing at the distresses of my friend and +fellow-passenger, Turk (a fine setter dog, on his first voyage), or +inventing some disguise for the peculiar flavor which that dismal +cook gives to all his abominations, or, at worst, I can bury my +head in my pillow, and brace from one side to the other against +the swell, and enjoy my disturbed thoughts—all without losing +my temper, or wishing that I had not undertaken the voyage.</p> + +<p>Poor Turk! his philosophy is more severely tried. He has +been bred a gentleman, and is amusingly exclusive. No assiduities +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span> +can win him to take the least notice of the crew, and I soon +discovered, that, when the captain and myself were below, he +endured many a persecution. In an evil hour, a night or two +since, I suffered his earnest appeals for freedom to work upon my +feelings, and, releasing him from his chain under the windlass, I +gave him the liberty of the cabin. He slept very quietly on the +floor till about midnight, when the wind rose and the vessel began +to roll very uncomfortably. With the first heavy lurch a couple +of chairs went tumbling to leeward, and by the yelp of distress, +Turk was somewhere in the way. He changed his position, and, +with the next roll, the mate's trunk "brought away," and shooting +across the cabin, jammed him with such violence against the +captain's state-room door, that he sprang howling to the deck, +where the first thing that met him was a washing sea, just taken +in at midships, that kept him swimming above the hatches for +five minutes. Half-drowned, and with a gallon of water in his +long hair, he took again to the cabin, and making a desperate +leap into the steward's berth, crouched down beside the sleeping +creole with a long whine of satisfaction. The water soon +penetrated however, and with a "<i>sacré!</i>" and a blow that he will +remember for the remainder of the voyage, the poor dog was +again driven from the cabin, and I heard no more of him till +morning. His decided preference for me has since touched my +vanity, and I have taken him under my more special protection—a +circumstance which costs me two quarrels a day at least, with +the cook and steward.</p> + +<p>The only thing which forced a smile upon me during the first +week of the passage was the achievement of dinner. In rough +weather, it is as much as one person can do to keep his place at +the table at all; and to guard the dishes, bottles, and castors, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span> +from a general slide in the direction of the lurch, requires a +sleight and coolness reserved only for a sailor. "<i>Prenez garde!</i>" +shouts the captain, as the sea strikes, and in the twinkling of an +eye, everything is seized and held up to wait for the other lurch +in attitudes which it would puzzle the pencil of Johnson to exaggerate. +With his plate of soup in one hand, and the larboard +end of the tureen in the other, the claret bottle between his teeth, +and the crook of his elbow caught around the mounting corner +of the table, the captain maintains his seat upon the transom, +and, with a look of the most grave concern, keeps a wary eye on +the shifting level of his vermicelli; the old weather-beaten mate, +with the alacrity of a juggler, makes a long leg back to the cabin +panels at the same moment, and with his breast against the table, +takes his own plate and the castors, and one or two of the +smaller dishes under his charge; and the steward, if he +can keep his legs, looks out for the vegetables, or if he falls, +makes as wide a lap as possible to intercept the volant articles in +their descent. "Gentlemen that live at home at ease" forget to +thank Providence for the blessings of a permanent level.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Oct. 24.</span>—We are on the Grand Bank, and surrounded by +hundreds of sea-birds. I have been watching them nearly all +day. Their performances on the wing are certainly the perfection +of grace and skill. With the steadiness of an eagle and the +nice adroitness of a swallow, they wheel round in their constant +circles with an arrowy swiftness, lifting their long tapering pinions +scarce perceptibly, and mounting and falling as if by a mere act +of volition, without the slightest apparent exertion of power. +Their chief enjoyment seems to be to scoop through the deep +hollows of the sea, and they do it so quickly that your eye can +scarce follow them, just disturbing the polish of the smooth +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span> +crescent, and leaving a fine line of ripple from swell to swell, +but never wetting a wing, or dipping their white breasts a feather +too deep in the capricious and wind-driven surface. I feel a +strange interest in these wild-hearted birds. There is something +in this fearless instinct, leading them away from the protecting +and pleasant land to make their home on this tossing and desolate +element, that moves both my admiration and my pity. I +cannot comprehend it. It is unlike the self-caring instincts of +the other families of Heaven's creatures. If I were half the +Pythagorean that I used to be, I should believe they were souls +in punishment—expiating some lifetime sin in this restless +metempsychosis.</p> + +<p>Now and then a land-bird has flown on board, driven to sea +probably by the gale; and so fatigued as hardly to be able to rise +again upon the wing. Yesterday morning a large curlew came +struggling down the wind, and seemed to have just sufficient +strength to reach the vessel. He attempted to alight on the +main yard, but failed and dropped heavily into the long-boat, +where he suffered himself to be taken without an attempt to +escape. He must have been on the wing two or three days without +food, for we were at least two hundred miles from land. His +heart was throbbing hard through his ruffled feathers, and he +held his head up with difficulty. He was passed aft; but, while I +was deliberating on the best means for resuscitating and fitting +him to get on the wing again, the captain had taken him from +me and handed him over to the cook, who had his head off before +I could remember French enough to arrest him. I dreamed all +that night of the man "that shot the albatross." The captain +relieved my mind, however, by telling me that he had tried +repeatedly to preserve them, and that they died invariably in a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span> +few hours. The least food, in their exhausted state, swells in their +throats and suffocates them. Poor Curlew! there was a tenderness +in one breast for him at least—a feeling I have the melancholy +satisfaction to know, fully reciprocated by the bird himself—that +seat of his affections having been allotted to me for +my breakfast the morning succeeding his demise.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Oct. 29.</span>—We have a tandem of whales ahead. They have +been playing about the ship an hour, and now are coursing away +to the east, one after the other, in gallant style. If we could +only get them into traces now, how beautiful it would be to stand +in the foretop and drive a degree or two, on a summer sea! It +would not be more wonderful, <i>de novo</i>, than the discovery of the +lightning-rod, or navigation by steam! And by the way, the +sight of these huge creatures has made me realize, for the first +time, the extent to which the sea has <i>grown</i> upon my mind during +the voyage. I have seen one or two whales, exhibited in the +docks, and it seemed to me always that they were monsters—out +of proportion, entirely, to the range of the ocean. I had been +accustomed to look out to the horizon from land (the radius, of +course, as great as at sea), and, calculating the probable speed +with which they would compass the intervening space, and the +disturbance they would make in doing it, it appeared that in any +considerable numbers, they would occupy more than their share +of notice and sea-room. Now—after sailing five days, at two +hundred miles a day, and not meeting a single vessel—it seems +to me that a troop of a thousand might swim the sea a century +and chance to be never crossed, so endlessly does this eternal +horizon open and stretch away!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Oct. 30.</span>—The day has passed more pleasantly than usual +The man at the helm cried "a sail," while we were at breakfast, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span> +and we gradually overtook a large ship, standing on the same +course, with every sail set. We were passing half a mile to leeward, +when she put up her helm and ran down to us, hoisting the +English flag. We raised the "star-spangled banner" in answer, +and "hove to," and she came dashing along our quarter, heaving +most majestically to the sea, till she was near enough to speak +us without a trumpet. Her fore-deck was covered with sailors +dressed all alike and very neatly, and around the gangway stood +a large group of officers in uniform, the oldest of whom, a noble-looking +man with gray hair, hailed and answered us. Several +ladies stood back by the cabin door—passengers apparently. She +was a man of war, sailing as a king's packet between Halifax and +Falmouth, and had been out from the former port nineteen days. +After the usual courtesies had passed, she bore away a little, and +then kept on her course again, the two vessels in company at +the distance of half a pistol shot. I rarely have seen a more +beautiful sight. The fine effect of a ship under sail is entirely +lost to one on board, and it is only at sea and under circumstances +like these, that it can be observed. The power of the +swell, lifting such a huge body as lightly as an egg-shell on its +bosom, and tossing it sometimes half out of the water without the +slightest apparent effort, is astonishing. I sat on deck watching +her with undiminished interest for hours. Apart from the spectacle, +the feeling of companionship, meeting human beings in +the middle of the ocean after so long a deprivation of society +(five days without seeing a sail, and nearly three weeks unspoken +from land), was delightful. Our brig was the faster sailer of the +two, but our captain took in some of his canvas for company's +sake; and all the afternoon we heard her half-hour bells, and the +boatswain's whistle, and the orders of the officers of the deck, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span> +and I could distinguish very well, with a glass, the expression of +the faces watching our own really beautiful vessel as she skimmed +over the water like a bird. We parted at sunset, the man-of-war +making northerly for her port, and we stretching south for +the coast of France. I watched her till she went over the horizon, +and felt as if I had lost friends when the night closed in and +we were once more</p> + +<p class="blockquot"> +"Alone on the wide, wide sea." +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nov. 3.</span>—We have just made the port of Havre, and the pilot +tells us that the packet has been delayed by contrary winds, and +sails early to-morrow morning. The town bells are ringing +"nine" (as delightful a sound as I ever heard, to my sea-weary +ear), and I close in haste, for all is confusion on board.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER III.</h3> + +<p class="ch_st"><span class="smcap">Havre.</span>—This is one of those places which scribbling travellers +hurry through with a crisp mention of their arrival and +departure, but, as I have passed a day here upon customhouse +compulsion, and passed it pleasantly too, and as I have an evening +entirely to myself, and a good fire, why I will order another +<i>pound</i> of wood (they sell it like a drug here), and Monsieur and +Mademoiselle Somebodies, "violin players right from the hands +of Paganini, only fifteen years of age, and miracles of music," +(so says the placard), may delight other lovers of precocious +talent than I. Pen, ink, and paper for No. 2!</p> + +<p>If I had not been warned against being astonished, short of +Paris, I should have thought Havre quite an affair. I certainly +have seen more that is novel and amusing since morning than +I ever saw before in any seven days of my life. Not a face, not +a building, not a dress, not a child even, not a stone in the street, +nor shop, nor woman, nor beast of burden, looks in any comparable +degree like its namesake the other side of the water.</p> + +<p>It was very provoking to eat a salt supper and go to bed in that +tiresome berth again last night, with a French hotel in full view, +and no permission to send for a fresh biscuit even, or a cup of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span> +milk. It was nine o'clock when we reached the pier, and at that +late hour there was, of course, no officer to be had for permission +to land; and there paced the patrole, with his high black cap and +red pompon, up and down the quay, within six feet of our tafferel, +and a shot from his arquebuss would have been the consequence +of any unlicensed communication with the shore. It was +something, however, to sleep without rocking; and, after a fit of +musing anticipation, which kept me conscious of the sentinel's +measured tread till midnight, the "gentle goddess" sealed up my +cares effectually, and I awoke at sunrise—in France!</p> + +<p>It is a common thing enough to go abroad, and it may seem +idle and common-place to be enthusiastic about it; but nothing +is common or a trifle, to me, that can send the blood so warm to +my heart, and the color to my temples as generously, as did my +first conscious thought when I awoke this morning. <i>In France.</i> +I would not have had it a dream for the price of an empire.</p> + +<p>Early in the morning a woman came clattering into the cabin +with wooden shoes, and a <i>patois</i> of mingled French and English—a +<i>blanchisseuse</i>—spattered to the knees with mud, but with a cap +and 'kerchief that would have made the fortune of a New York +milliner. <i>Ciel!</i> what politeness! and what white teeth and +what a knowing row of papillotes, laid in precise parallel, on her +clear brunette temples.</p> + +<p>"<i>Quelle nouvelle!</i>" said the captain.</p> + +<p>"<i>Poland est a bas!</i>" was the answer, with a look of heroic +sorrow, that would have become a tragedy queen, mourning for +the loss of a throne. The French manner, for once, did not +appear exaggerated. It was news to sadden us all. Pity! pity! +that the broad Christian world could look on and see this glorious +people trampled to the dust in one of the most noble and desperate +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span> +struggles for liberty that the earth ever saw! What an +opportunity was here lost to France for setting a seal of double +truth and splendor on her own newly-achieved triumph over despotism. +The washerwoman broke the silence with "<i>Any clothes +to wash, Monsieur?</i>" and in the instant return of my thoughts to +my own comparatively-pitiful interests, I found the philosophy +for all I had condemned in kings—the humiliating and selfish +individuality of human nature! And yet I believe with Dr. +Channing on that dogma.</p> + +<p>At ten o'clock I had performed the traveller's routine—had +submitted my trunk and my passport to the three authorities, and +had got into (and out of) as many mounting passions at what +seemed to me the intolerable impertinencies of searching my +linen, and inspecting my person for scars. I had paid the porter +three times his due rather than endure his cataract of French +expostulation; and with a bunch of keys, and a landlady attached +to it, had ascended by a cold, wet, marble staircase, to a parlor +and bedroom on the fifth floor: as pretty a place, when you +get there, and as difficult to get to as if it were a palace in thin +air. It is perfectly French! Fine, old, last-century chairs, +covered with splendid yellow damask, two sofas of the same, the +legs or arms of every one imperfect; a coarse wood dressing-table, +covered with fringed drapery and a sort of throne pincushion, +with an immense glass leaning over it, gilded probably in the +time of Henri Quatre; artificial flowers all around the room, +and prints of Atala and <i>Napoleon mourant</i> over the walls; windows +opening to the floor on hinges, damask and muslin curtains +inside, and boxes for flower-pots without; a bell-wire that pulls +no bell, a bellows too asthmatic even to wheeze, tongs that +refuse to meet, and a carpet as large as a table-cloth in the centre +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span> +of the floor, may answer for an inventory of the "parlor." +The bedchamber, about half as large as the boxes in Rattle-row, +at Saratoga, opens by folding doors, and discloses a bed, that, for +tricksy ornament as well as size, might look the bridal couch for +a faery queen in a panorama; the same golden-sprig damask looped +over it, tent-fashion, with splendid crimson cord, tassels, fringes, +etc., and a pillow beneath that I shall be afraid to sleep on, it is +so dainty a piece of needle-work. There is a delusion about it, +positively. One cannot help imagining, that all this splendor +means something, and it would require a worse evil than any of +these little deficiencies of <i>comfort</i> to disturb the self-complacent, +Captain-Jackson sort of feeling, with which one throws his cloak +on one sofa and his hat on the other, and spreads himself out for +a lounge before this mere apology of a French fire.</p> + +<p>But, for eating and drinking! if they cook better in Paris, I +shall have my passport altered. The next <i>prefet</i> that signs it +shall substitute <i>gourmand</i> for <i>proprietaire</i>. I will profess a +palate, and live to eat. Making every allowance for an appetite +newly from sea, my experience hitherto in this department of +science is transcended in the degree of a rushlight to Arcturus.</p> + +<p>I strolled about Havre from breakfast till dinner, seven or +eight hours, following curiosity at random, up one street and +down another, with a prying avidity which I fear travel will wear +fast away. I must compress my observations into a sentence or +two, for my fire is out, and this old castle of a hotel lets in the wind +"shrewdly cold," and, besides, the diligence calls for me in a +few hours and one must sleep.</p> + +<p>Among my impressions the most vivid are—that, of the +twenty thousand inhabitants of Havre, by far the greater portion +are women and soldiers—that the buildings all look toppling, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span> +insecurely antique and unsightly—that the privates of the regular +army are the most stupid, and those of the national guard the most +intelligent-looking troops I ever saw—that the streets are filthy +beyond endurance, and the shops clean beyond all praise—that the +women do all the buying and selling, and cart-driving and sweeping, +and even shoe-making, and other sedentary craftswork, and +at the same time have (the meanest of them) an air of ambitious +elegance and neatness, that sends your hand to your hat involuntarily +when you speak to them—that the children speak French, +and look like little old men and women, and the horses, (the +famed Norman breed) are the best of draught animals, and the +worst for speed in the world—and that, for extremes ridiculously +near, dirt and neatness, politeness and knavery, chivalry and +<i>petitesse</i>, of bearing and language, the people I have seen to-day +<i>must</i> be pre-eminently remarkable, or France, for a laughing philosopher, +is a paradise indeed! And now for my pillow, till the +diligence calls. Good night.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER IV.</h3> + +<p class="ch_st"><span class="smcap">Paris.</span>—It seems to me as if I were going back a month to +recall my departure from Havre, my memory is so clouded with +later incidents. I was awaked on the morning after I had written +to you, by a servant, who brought me at the same time a cup +of coffee, and at about an hour before daylight we were passing +through the huge gates of the town on our way to Paris. The +whole business of diligence-travelling amused me exceedingly. +The construction of this vehicle has often been described; but +its separate apartments (at four different prices), its enormous +size, its comfort and clumsiness, and, more than all, the driving +of its postillions, struck me as equally novel and diverting. This +last mentioned performer on the whip and voice (the only two +accomplishments he at all cultivates), rides one of the three +wheel horses, and drives the four or seven which are in advance, +as a grazier in our country drives a herd of cattle, and they +travel very much in the same manner. There is leather enough +in two of their clumsy harnesses, to say nothing of the postillion's +boots, to load a common horse heavily. I never witnessed such +a ludicrous absence of contrivance and tact as in the appointments +and driving of horses in a diligence. It is so in everything in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span> +France, indeed. They do not possess the quality as a nation. +The story of the Gascoigne, who saw a bridge for the first time, +and admired the ingenious economy that placed it across the +river, instead of lengthwise, is hardly an exaggeration.</p> + +<p>At daylight I found myself in the <i>coupé</i> (a single seat for three +in the front of the body of the carriage, with windows before and +at the sides), with two whiskered and mustached companions, +both very polite, and very unintelligible. I soon suspected, by +the science with which my neighbor on the left hummed little +snatches of popular operas, that he was a professed singer (a conjecture +which proved true), and it was equally clear, from the +complexion of the portfeuille on the lap of the other, that his +vocation was a liberal one—a conjecture which proved true also, +as he confessed himself a <i>diplomat</i>, when we became better +acquainted. For the first hour or more my attention was divided +between the dim but beautiful outline of the country by the +slowly approaching light of the dawn, and my nervousness at the +distressing want of skill in the postillion's driving. The increasing +and singular beauty of the country, even under the disadvantage +of rain and the late season, soon absorbed all my attention, +however, and my involuntary and half-suppressed exclamations +of pleasure, so unusual in an Englishman (for whom I found I +was taken), warmed the diplomatist into conversation, and I +passed the three ensuing hours very pleasantly. My companion +was on his return from Lithuania, having been sent out by the +French committee with arms and money for Poland. He was, +of course, a most interesting fellow-traveller; and, allowing for +the difficulty with which I understood the language, in the rapid +articulation of an enthusiastic Frenchman, I rarely have been +better pleased with a chance acquaintance. I found he had been +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span> +in Greece during the revolution, and knew intimately my friend, +Dr. Howe, the best claim he could have on my interest, and, I +soon discovered, an answering recommendation of myself to +him.</p> + +<p>The province of Normandy is celebrated for its picturesque +beauty, but I had no conception before of the <i>cultivated</i> picturesque +of an old country. I have been a great scenery-hunter in +America, and my eye was new, like its hills and forests. The +massive, battlemented buildings of the small villages we passed +through, the heavy gateways and winding avenues and antique structure +of the distant and half-hidden châteaux, the perfect cultivation, +and, to me, singular appearance of a whole landscape +without a fence or a stone, the absence of all that we define by +<i>comfort</i> and <i>neatness</i>, and the presence of all that we have seen +in pictures and read of in books, but consider as the representations +and descriptions of ages gone by—all seemed to me irresistibly +like a dream. I could not rub my hand over my eyes, +and realize myself. I could not believe that, within a month's +voyage of my home, these spirit-stirring places had stood all my lifetime +as they do, and have—for ages—every stone as it was laid +in times of worm-eaten history—and looking to my eyes now as +they did to the eyes of knights and dames in the days of French +chivalry. I looked at the constantly-occurring ruins of the old +priories, and the magnificent and still-used churches, and my +blood tingled in my veins, as I saw, in the stepping-stones at their +doors, cavities that the sandals of monks, and the iron-shod feet +of knights in armor a thousand years ago, had trodden and helped +to wear, and the stone cross over the threshold, that hundreds of +generations had gazed upon and passed under.</p> + +<p>By a fortunate chance the postillion left the usual route at +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span> +Balbec, and pursued what appeared to be a bye-road through +the grain-fields and vineyards for twenty or twenty-five miles. I +can only describe it as an uninterrupted green lane, winding +almost the whole distance through the bosom of a valley that +must be one of the very loveliest in the world. Imagine one of +such extent, without a fence to break the broad swells of verdure, +stretching up from the winding and unenclosed road on either +side, to the apparent sky; the houses occurring at distances of +miles, and every one with its thatched roof covered all over with +bright green moss, and its walls of marl interlaid through all the +crevices with clinging vines, the whole structure and its appurtenances +faultlessly picturesque, and, when you have conceived a +valley that might have contented Rasselas, scatter over it here +and there groups of men, women, and children, the Norman +peasantry in their dresses of all colors, as you see them in the +prints—and if there is anything that can better please the eye, +or make the imagination more willing to fold up its wings and +rest, my travels have not crossed it. I have recorded a vow to +walk through Normandy.</p> + +<p>As we approached Rouen the road ascended gradually, and a +sharp turn brought us suddenly to the brow of a steep hill, opposite +another of the same height, and with the same abrupt +descent, at the distance of a mile across. Between, lay Rouen. +I hardly know how to describe, for American eyes, the peculiar +beauty of this view; one of the most exquisite, I am told, in all +France. A town at the foot of a hill is common enough in our +country, but of the hundreds that answer to this description, I +can not name one that would afford a correct comparison. The +nice and excessive cultivation of the grounds in so old a country +gives the landscape a complexion essentially different from ours. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span> +If there were another Mount Holyoke, for instance, on the other +side of the Connecticut, the situation of Northampton would be +very similar to that of Rouen; but, instead of the rural village, +with its glimpses of white houses seen through rich and luxurious +masses of foliage, the mountain sides above broken with rocks, +and studded with the gigantic and untouched relics of the native +forest, and the fields below waving with heavy crops, irregularly +fenced and divided, the whole picture one of an overlavish and +half-subdued Eden of fertility—instead of this I say—the broad +meadows, with the winding Seine in their bosom, are as trim as a +girl's flower-garden, the grass closely cut, and of a uniform surface +of green, the edges of the river set regularly with willows, the little +bright islands circled with trees, and smooth as a lawn; and +instead of green lanes lined with bushes, single streets running +right through the unfenced verdure, from one hill to another, and +built up with antique structures of stone—the whole looking, in the +<i>coup d'œil</i> of distance, like some fantastic model of a town, with +gothic houses of sand-paper, and meadows of silk velvet.</p> + +<p>You will find the size, population, etc., of Rouen in the guide-books. +As my object is to record impressions, not statistics, I +leave you to consult those laconic chronicles, or the books of a +thousand travellers, for all such information. The Maid of +Orleans was burnt here, as you know, in the fourteenth century. +There is a statue erected to her memory, which I did not see, +for it rained; and after the usual stop of two hours, as the barometer +promised no change in the weather, and as I was anxious +to be in Paris, I took my place in the night diligence and kept on.</p> + +<p>I amused myself till dark, watching the streams that poured +into the broad mouth of the postillion's boots from every part of +his dress, and musing on the fate of the poor Maid of Orleans; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span> +and then, sinking down into the comfortable corner of the <i>coupé</i>, +I slept almost without interruption till the next morning—the +best comment in the world on the only <i>comfortable</i> thing I have +yet seen in France, a diligence.</p> + +<p>It is a pleasant thing in a foreign land to see the familiar face +of the sun; and, as he rose over a distant hill on the left, I lifted +the window of the <i>coupé</i> to let him in, as I would open the door +to a long-missed friend. He soon reached a heavy cloud, however, +and my hopes of bright weather, when we should enter the +metropolis, departed. It began to rain again; and the postilion, +after his blue cotton frock was soaked through, put on his greatcoat +over it—an economy which is peculiarly French, and which +I observed in every succeeding postilion on the route. The last +twenty-five miles to Paris are uninteresting to the eye; and with +my own pleasant thoughts, tinct as they were with the brightness +of immediate anticipation, and an occasional laugh at the grotesque +figures and equipages on the road, I made myself passably +contented till I entered the suburb of St. Denis.</p> + +<p>It is something to see the outside of a sepulchre for kings, and +the old abbey of St. Denis needs no association to make a sight +of it worth many a mile of weary travel. I could not stop within +four miles of Paris, however, and I contented myself with running +to get a second view of it in the rain while the postilion +breathed his horses. The strongest association about it, old and +magnificent as it is, is the fact that Napoleon repaired it after the +revolution; and standing in probably the finest point for its front +view, my heart leaped to my throat as I fancied that Napoleon, +with his mighty thoughts, had stood in that very spot, possibly, +and contemplated the glorious old pile before me as the place of +his future repose. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span></p> + +<p>After four miles more, over a broad straight avenue, paved in +the centre and edged with trees, we arrived at the port of St. +Denis. I was exceedingly struck with the grandeur of the gate +as we passed under, and, referring to the guide-book, I find it was +a triumphal arch erected to Louis XIV., and the one by which +the kings of France invariably enter. This also was restored by +Napoleon, with his infallible taste, without changing its design: +and it is singular how everything that great man touched became +his own—for, who remembers for whom it was raised while he is +told who employed his great intellect in its repairs?</p> + +<p>I entered Paris on Sunday at eleven o'clock. I never should +have recognized the day. The shops were all open, the artificers +all at work, the unintelligible criers vociferating their wares, and +the people in their working-day dresses. We wound through +street after street, narrow and dark and dirty, and with my mind +full of the splendid views of squares, and columns, and bridges, +as I had seen them in the prints, I could scarce believe I was in +Paris. A turn brought us into a large court, that of the Messagerie, +the place at which all travellers are set down on arrival. +Here my baggage was once more inspected, and, after a half-hour's +delay, I was permitted to get into a <i>fiacre</i>, and drive to a +hotel. As one is a specimen of all, I may as well describe the +<i>Hotel d'Etrangers</i>, Rue Vivienne, which, by the way, I take the +liberty at the same time to recommend to my friends. It is the +precise centre for the convenience of sight-seeing, admirably +kept, and, being nearly opposite Galignani's, that bookstore of +Europe, is a very pleasant resort for the half hour before dinner, +or a rainy day. I went there at the instance of my friend the +<i>diplomat</i>.</p> + +<p>The <i>fiacre</i> stopped before an arched passage, and a fellow in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span> +livery, who had followed me from the Messagerie (probably in +the double character of porter and police agent, as my passport +was yet to be demanded), took my trunk into a small office on +the left, over which was written "<i>Concierge</i>." This person, +who is a kind of respectable doorkeeper, addressed me in broken +English, without waiting for the evidence of my tongue, that I +was a foreigner, and, after inquiring at what price I would have +a room, introduced me to the landlady, who took me across a large +court (the houses are built <i>round</i> the yard always in France), to +the corresponding story of the house. The room was quite +pretty, with its looking-glasses and curtains, but there was no +carpet, and the fireplace was ten feet deep. I asked to see another, +and another, and another; they were all curtains and looking-glasses, +and stone-floors! There is no wearying a French +woman, and I pushed my modesty till I found a chamber to my +taste—a nutshell, to be sure, but carpeted—and bowing my +polite housekeeper out, I rang for breakfast and was at home in +Paris.</p> + +<p>There are few things bought with money that are more delightful +than a French breakfast. If you take it at your room, it +appears in the shape of two small vessels, one of coffee and one +of hot milk, two kinds of bread, with a thin, printed slice of +butter, and one or two of some thirty dishes from which you +choose, the latter flavored exquisitely enough to make one wish to +be always at breakfast, but cooked and composed I know not +how or of what. The coffee has an aroma peculiarly exquisite, +something quite different from any I ever tasted before; and the +<i>petit-pain</i>, a slender biscuit between bread and cake, is, when +crisp and warm, a delightful accompaniment. All this costs +about one third as much as the beefsteaks and coffee in America, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span> +and at the same time that you are waited upon with a civility +that is worth three times the money.</p> + +<p>It still rained at noon, and, finding that the usual dinner hour +was five, I took my umbrella for a walk. In a strange city I +prefer always to stroll about at hazard, coming unawares upon +what is fine or curious. The hackneyed descriptions in the +guidebooks profane the spirit of a place; I never look at them till +after I have found the object, and then only for dates. The +Rue Vivienne was crowded with people, as I emerged from the +dark archway of the hotel to pursue my wanderings.</p> + +<p>A walk of this kind, by the way, shows one a great deal of +novelty. In France there are no shop-<i>men</i>. No matter what is +the article of trade—hats, boots, pictures, books, jewellery, anything +or everything that gentlemen buy—you are waited upon by +girls, always handsome, and always dressed in the height of the +mode. They sit on damask-covered settees, behind the counters; +and, when you enter, bow and rise to serve you, with a grace and +a smile of courtesy that would become a drawing-room. And +this is universal.</p> + +<p>I strolled on until I entered a narrow passage, penetrating a +long line of buildings. It was thronged with people, and passing +in with the rest, I found myself unexpectedly in a scene that +equally surprised and delighted me. It was a spacious square +enclosed by one entire building. The area was laid out as a +garden, planted with long avenues of trees and beds of flowers, +and in the centre a fountain was playing in the shape of a <i>fleur-de-lis</i>, +with a jet about forty feet in height. A superb colonnade +ran round the whole square, making a covered gallery of the +lower story, which was occupied by shops of the most splendid +appearance, and thronged through its long sheltered <i>pavès</i> by +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span> +thousands of gay promenaders. It was the far-famed <i>Palais +Royal</i>. I remembered the description I had heard of its gambling +houses, and facilities for every vice, and looked with a new +surprise on its Aladdin-like magnificence. The hundreds of beautiful +pillars, stretching away from the eye in long and distant +perspective, the crowd of citizens, and women, and officers in +full uniform, passing and re-passing with French liveliness and +politeness, the long windows of plated glass glittering with jewellery, +and bright with everything to tempt the fancy, the tall +sentinels pacing between the columns, and the fountain turning +over its clear waters with a fall audible above the tread and +voices of the thousands who walked around it—who could look +upon such a scene and believe it what it is, the most corrupt spot, +probably, on the face of the civilized world?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER V.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum">THE LOUVRE—AMERICANS IN PARIS—POLITICS, ETC.</p> + +<p>The salient object in my idea of Paris has always been the +Louvre. I have spent some hours in its vast gallery to-day and +I am sure it will retain the same prominence in my recollections. +The whole palace is one of the oldest, and said to be one of the +finest, in Europe; and, if I may judge from its impressiveness, +the vast inner court (the <i>façades</i> of which were restored to their +original simplicity by Napoleon), is a specimen of high architectural +perfection. One could hardly pass through it without being +better fitted to see the masterpieces of art within; and it requires +this, and all the expansiveness of which the mind is capable +besides, to walk through the <i>Musée Royale</i> without the painful +sense of a magnificence beyond the grasp of the faculties.</p> + +<p>I delivered my passport at the door of the palace, and, +as is customary, recorded my name, country, and profession in +the book, and proceeded to the gallery. The grand double staircase, +one part leading to the private apartments of the royal +household, is described voluminously in the authorities; and, +truly, for one who has been accustomed to convenient dimensions +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span> +only, its breadth, its lofty ceilings, its pillars and statuary, its +mosaic pavements and splendid windows, are enough to unsettle +for ever the standards of size and grandeur. The strongest feeling +one has, as he stops half way up to look about him, is the ludicrous +disproportion between it and the size of the inhabiting +animals. I should smile to see any man ascend such a staircase, +except, perhaps, Napoleon.</p> + +<p>Passing through a kind of entrance-hall, I came to a spacious +<i>salle ronde</i>, lighted from the ceiling, and hung principally with +pictures of a large size, one of the most conspicuous of which, +"The Wreck," has been copied by an American artist, Mr. +Cooke, and is now exhibiting in New York. It is one of the +best of the French school, and very powerfully conceived. I +regret, however, that he did not prefer the wonderfully fine piece +opposite, which is worth all the pictures ever painted in France, +"The Marriage Supper at Cana." The left wing of the table, +projected toward the spectator, with seven or eight guests who +occupy it, absolutely stands out into the hall. It seems impossible +that color and drawing upon a flat surface can so cheat the +eye.</p> + +<p>From the <i>salle ronde</i>, on the right opens the grand gallery, +which, after the lesson I had just received in perspective, I took, +at the first glance, to be a painting. You will realize the facility +of the deception when you consider, that, with a breadth of but +forty-two feet, this gallery is one thousand three hundred and +thirty-two feet (more than a quarter of a mile) in length. The +floor is of tesselated woods, polished with wax like a table; and +along its glassy surface were scattered perhaps a hundred visiters, +gazing at the pictures in varied attitudes, and with sizes reduced +in proportion to their distance, the farthest off looking, in the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span> +long perspective, like pigmies of the most diminutive description. +It is like a matchless painting to the eye, after all. The ceiling +is divided by nine or ten arches, standing each on four Corinthian +columns, projecting into the area; and the natural perspective +of these, and the artists scattered from one end to the other, +copying silently at their easels, and a soldier at every division, +standing upon his guard, quite as silent and motionless, would +make it difficult to convince a spectator, who was led blindfold +and unprepared to the entrance, that it was not some superb +diorama, figures and all.</p> + +<p>I found our distinguished countryman, Morse, copying a beautiful +Murillo at the end of the gallery. He is also engaged upon +a Raffaelle for Cooper, the novelist. Among the French artists, +I noticed several soldiers, and some twenty or thirty females, the +latter with every mark in their countenances of absorbed and +extreme application. There was a striking difference in this +respect between them and the artists of the other sex. With the +single exception of a lovely girl, drawing from a Madonna, by +Guido, and protected by the presence of an elderly companion, +these lady painters were anything but interesting in their appearance.</p> + +<p>Greenough, the sculptor, is in Paris, and engaged just now in +taking the bust of an Italian lady. His reputation is now very +enviable; and his passion for his art, together with his untiring +industry and his fine natural powers, will work him up to something +that will, before long, be an honor to our country. If the +wealthy men of taste in America would give Greenough liberal +orders for his time and talents, and send out Augur, of New +Haven, to Italy, they would do more to advance this glorious art +in our country, than by expending ten times the sum in any other +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span> +way. They are both men of rare genius, and both ardent and +diligent, and they are both cramped by the universal curse of +genius—necessity. The Americans in Paris are deliberating at +present on some means for expressing unitedly to our government +their interest in Greenough, and their appreciation of his +merit of public and private patronage. For the love of true +taste, do everything in your power to second such an appeal when +it comes.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>It is a queer feeling to find oneself a <i>foreigner</i>. One cannot +realize, long at a time, how his face or his manners should have +become peculiar; and, after looking at a print for five minutes in +a shop window, or dipping into an English book, or in any manner +throwing off the mental habit of the instant, the curious gaze +of the passer by, or the accent of a strange language, strikes one +very singularly. Paris is full of foreigners of all nations, and of +course, physiognomies of all characters may be met everywhere, +but, differing as the European nations do decidedly from each +other, they differ still more from the American. Our countrymen, +as a class, are distinguishable wherever they are met; not +as Americans however, for, of the habits and manners of our +country, people know nothing this side the water. But there is +something in an American face, of which I never was aware till +I met them in Europe, that is altogether peculiar. The French +take the Americans to be English: but an Englishman, while he +presumes him his countryman, shows a curiosity to know who he +is, which is very foreign to his usual indifference. As far as I +can analyze it, it is the independent self-possessed bearing of a +man unused to look up to any one as his superior in rank, united +to the inquisitive, sensitive, communicative expression which is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span> +the index to our national character. The first is seldom possessed +in England but by a man of decided rank, and the latter +is never possessed by an Englishman at all. The two are united +in no other nation. Nothing is easier than to tell the rank of an +Englishman, and nothing puzzles a European more than to know +how to rate the pretensions of an American.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>On my way home from the Boulevards this evening, I was fortunate +enough to pass through the grand court of the Louvre, at +the moment when the moon broke through the clouds that have +concealed her own light and the sun's ever since I have been in +France. I had often stopped, in passing the sentinels at the +entrance, to admire the grandeur of the interior to this oldest of +the royal palaces; but to-night, my dead halt within the shadow +of the arch, as the view broke upon my eye, and my sudden +exclamation in English, startled the grenadier, and he had half +presented his musket, when I apologized and passed on. It was +magically beautiful indeed! and, with the moonlight pouring +obliquely into the sombre area, lying full upon the taller of the +three <i>façades</i>, and drawing its soft line across the rich windows +and massive pilasters and arches of the eastern and western, +while the remaining front lay in the heavy black shadow of relief, +it seemed to me more like an accidental regularity in some rocky +glen of America, than a pile of human design and proportion. +It is strange how such high walls shut out the world. The court +of the Louvre is in the very centre of the busiest quarter of +Paris, thousands of persons passing and repassing constantly at +the extremity of the long arched entrances, and yet, standing on +the pavement of that lonely court, no living creature in sight but +the motionless grenadiers at either gate, the noises without coming +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span> +to your ear in a subdued murmur, like the wind on the sea, +and nothing visible above but the sky, resting like a ceiling on +the lofty walls, the impression of utter solitude is irresistible. I +passed out by the archway for which Napoleon constructed his +bronze gates, said to be the most magnificent of modern times, +and which are now lying in some obscure corner unused, no succeeding +power having had the spirit or the will to complete, even +by the slight labor that remained, his imperial design. All over +Paris you may see similar instances; they meet you at every +step: glorious plans defeated; works, that with a mere moiety +of what has been already expended in their progress, might be +finished with an effect that none but a mind like Napoleon's could +have originally projected.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>Paris, of course, is rife with politics. There is but one +opinion on the subject of another pending revolution. The +"people's king" is about as unpopular as he need be for the purposes +of his enemies; and he has aggravated the feeling against +him very unnecessarily by his late project in the Tuileries. The +whole thing is very characteristic of the French people. He +might have deprived them of half their civil rights without immediate +resistance; but to cut off a strip of the public garden to +make a play ground for his children—to encroach a hundred feet +on the pride of Paris, the daily promenade of the idlers, who do +all the discussion of his measures, it was a little too venturesome. +Unfortunately, too, the offence is in the very eye of curiosity, +and the workmen are surrounded, from morning till night, by +thousands of people, of all classes, gesticulating, and looking at +the palace windows and winding themselves gradually up to the +revolutionary pitch. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span></p> + +<p>In the event of an explosion, the liberal party will not want +partizans, for France is crowded with refugees from tyranny, of +every nation. The Poles are flocking hither every day, and the +streets are full of their melancholy faces! Poor fellows! they suffer +dreadfully from want. The public charity for refugees has been +wrung dry long ago, and the most heroic hearts of Poland, after +having lost everything but life, in their unavailing struggle, are +starving absolutely in the streets. Accident has thrown me into +the confidence of a well-known liberal—one of those men of +whom the proud may ask assistance without humiliation, and +circumstances have thus come to my knowledge, which would +move a heart of stone. The fictitious sufferings of "Thaddeus +of Warsaw," are transcended in real-life misery every day, +and by natures quite as noble. Lafayette, I am credibly assured, +has anticipated several years of his income in relieving them; +and no possible charity could be so well bestowed as contributions +for the Poles, starving in these heartless cities.</p> + +<p>I have just heard that Chodsko, a Pole, of distinguished talent +and learning, who threw his whole fortune and energy into the +late attempted revolution, was arrested here last night, with +eight others of his countrymen, under suspicion by the government. +The late serious insurrection at Lyons has alarmed +the king, and the police is exceedingly strict. The Spanish and +Italian refugees, who receive pensions from France, have been +ordered off to the provincial towns, by the minister of the interior, +and there is every indication of extreme and apprehensive caution. +The papers, meantime, are raving against the ministry in +the most violent terms, and the king is abused without qualification, +everywhere.</p> + +<p>I went, a night or two since, to one of the minor theatres to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span> +see the representation of a play, which has been performed for +the <i>hundred and second time</i>!—"Napoleon at Schoenbrun and +St. Helena." My object was to study the feelings of the people +toward Napoleon II., as the exile's love for his son is one of the +leading features of the piece. It was beautifully played—most +beautifully! and I never saw more enthusiasm manifested by an +audience. Every allusion of Napoleon to his child, was received +with that undertoned, gutteral acclamation, that expresses such +deep feeling in a crowd; and the piece is so written that its +natural pathos alone is irresistible. No one could doubt for an +instant, it seems to me, that the entrance of young Napoleon +into France, at any critical moment, would be universally and +completely triumphant. The great cry at Lyons was "<i>Vive +Napoleon II.!</i>"</p> + +<p>I have altered my arrangements a little, in consequence of the +state of feeling here. My design was to go to Italy immediately, +but affairs promise such an interesting and early change, that I +shall pass the winter in Paris. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER VI.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum">TAGLIONI—FRENCH STAGE, ETC.</p> + +<p>I went last night to the French opera, to see the first dancer +of the world. The prodigious enthusiasm about her, all over +Europe, had, of course, raised my expectations to the highest +possible pitch. "<i>Have you seen Taglioni?</i>" is the first question +addressed to a stranger in Paris; and you hear her name constantly +over all the hum of the <i>cafés</i> and in the crowded resorts +of fashion. The house was overflowed. The king and his +numerous family were present; and my companion pointed out +to me many of the nobility, whose names and titles have been +made familiar to our ears by the innumerable private memoirs +and autobiographies of the day. After a little introductory +piece, the king arrived, and, as soon as the cheering was over, +the curtain drew up for "<i>Le Dieu et la Bayadere</i>." This is the +piece in which Taglioni is most famous. She takes the part of +a dancing girl, of whom the Bramah and an Indian prince are +both enamored; the former in the disguise of a man of low rank +at the court of the latter, in search of some one whose love for +him shall be disinterested. The disguised god succeeds in winning +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span> +her affection, and, after testing her devotion by submitting +for a while to the resentment of his rival, and by a pretended +caprice in favor of a singing girl, who accompanies her, he marries +her, and then saves her from the flames as she is about to be +burned for marrying beneath her <i>caste</i>. Taglioni's part is all +pantomime. She does not speak during the play, but her motion +is more than articulate. Her first appearance was in a troop of +Indian dancing girls, who performed before the prince in the +public square. At a signal from the vizier a side pavilion opened, +and thirty or forty bayaderes glided out together, and commenced +an intricate dance. They were received with a tremendous round +of applause from the audience; but, with the exception of a +little more elegance in the four who led the dance, they were +dressed nearly alike; and as I saw no particularly conspicuous +figure, I presumed that Taglioni had not yet appeared. The +splendor of the spectacle bewildered me for the first moment or +two, but I presently found my eyes rivetted to a childish creature +floating about among the rest, and, taking her for some +beautiful young <i>elève</i> making her first essays in the chorus, I +interpreted her extraordinary fascination as a triumph of nature +over my unsophisticated taste; and wondered to myself whether, +after all, I should be half so much captivated with the show of +skill I expected presently to witness. <i>This was Taglioni!</i> She +came forward directly, in a <i>pas seul</i>, and I then observed that her +dress was distinguished from that of her companions by its +extreme modesty both of fashion and ornament, and the unconstrained +ease with which it adapted itself to her shape and +motion. She looks not more than fifteen. Her figure is small, +but rounded to the very last degree of perfection; not a muscle +swelled beyond the exquisite outline; not an angle, not a fault. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span> +Her back and neck, those points so rarely beautiful in woman, +are faultlessly formed; her feet and hands are in full proportion +to her size, and the former play as freely and with as natural a +yieldingness in her fairy slippers, as if they were accustomed only +to the dainty uses of a drawing-room. Her face is most strangely +interesting; not quite beautiful, but of that half-appealing, half-retiring +sweetness that you sometimes see blended with the +secluded reserve and unconscious refinement of a young girl just +"out" in a circle of high fashion. In her greatest exertions her +features retain the same timid half smile, and she returns to the +alternate by-play of her part without the slightest change of +color, or the slightest perceptible difference in her breathing, or +in the ease of her look and posture. No language can describe +her motion. She swims in your eye like a curl of smoke, or a +flake of down. Her difficulty seems to be to keep to the floor. +You have the feeling while you gaze upon her, that, if she were +to rise and float away like Ariel, you would scarce be surprised. +And yet all is done with such a childish unconsciousness of admiration, +such a total absence of exertion or fatigue, that the +delight with which she fills you is unmingled; and, assured as +you are by the perfect purity of every look and attitude, that her +hitherto spotless reputation is deserved beyond a breath of suspicion, +you leave her with as much respect as admiration; and find +with surprise that a dancing girl, who is exposed night after night +to the profaning gaze of the world, has crept into one of the most +sacred niches of your memory.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I have attended several of the best theatres in Paris, and find +one striking trait in all their first actors—<i>nature</i>. They do not +look like actors, and their playing is not like acting. They are men, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span> +generally, of the most earnest, unstudied simplicity of countenance; +and when they come upon the stage, it is singularly without affectation, +and as the character they represent would appear. Unlike +most of the actors I have seen, too, they seem altogether +unaware of the presence of the audience. Nothing disturbs the +fixed attention they give to each other in the dialogue, and no +private interview between simple and sincere men could be more +unconscious and natural. I have formed consequently a high +opinion of the French drama, degenerate as it is said to be since +the loss of Talma; and it is easy to see that the root of its +excellence is in the taste and judgment of the people. <i>They +applaud judiciously.</i> When Taglioni danced her wonderful <i>pas +seul</i>, for instance, the applause was general and sufficient. It +was a triumph of art, and she was applauded as an artist. But +when, as the neglected bayadere, she stole from the corner of the +cottage, and, with her indescribable grace, hovered about the +couch of the disguised Bramah, watching and fanning him while +he slept, she expressed so powerfully, by the saddened tenderness +of her manner, the devotion of a love that even neglect could +not estrange, that a murmur of delight ran through the whole +house; and, when her silent pantomime was interrupted by the +waking of the god, there was an overwhelming tumult of acclamation +that came from the <i>hearts</i> of the audience, and as such +must have been both a lesson, and the highest compliment, to +Taglioni. An actor's taste is of course very much regulated by +that of his audience. He will cultivate that for which he is most +praised. We shall never have a high-toned drama in America, +while, as at present, applause is won only by physical exertion, +and the nice touches of genius and nature pass undetected and +unfelt. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span></p> + +<p>Of the French actresses, I have been most pleased with Leontine +Fay. She is not much talked of here, and perhaps, as a +mere artist in her profession, is inferior to those who are more +popular; but she has that indescribable something in her face that +has interested me through life—that strange talisman which is +linked wisely to every heart, confining its interest to some nice +difference invisible to other eyes, and, by a happy consequence, +undisputed by other admiration. She, too, has that retired +sweetness of look that seems to come only from secluded habits, +and in the highly-wrought passages of tragedy, when her fine +dark eyes are filled with tears, and her tones, which have never +the out-of-doors key of the stage, are clouded and imperfect, she +seems less an actress than a refined and lovely woman, breaking +through the habitual reserve of society in some agonizing crisis +of real life. There are prints of Leontine Fay in the shops, and +I have seen them in America, but they resemble her very little. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER VII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum">JOACHIM LELEWEL—PALAIS ROYAL—PERE LA CHAISE—VERSAILLES, +ETC.</p> + +<p>I met, at a breakfast party, to-day, Joachim Lelewel, the +celebrated scholar and patriot of Poland. Having fallen in with +a great deal of revolutionary and emigrant society since I have +been in Paris, I have often heard his name, and looked forward +to meeting him with high pleasure and curiosity. His writings +are passionately admired by his countrymen. He was the principal +of the university, idolized by that effective part of the +population, the students of Poland; and the fearless and lofty +tone of his patriotic principles is said to have given the first and +strongest momentum to the ill-fated struggle just over. Lelewel +impressed me very strongly. Unlike most of the Poles, who are +erect, athletic, and florid, he is thin, bent, and pale; and were it +not for the fire and decision of his eye, his uncertain gait and +sensitive address would convey an expression almost of timidity. +His form, features, and manners, are very like those of Percival, +the American poet, though their countenances are marked with +the respective difference of their habits of mind. Lelewel looks +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span> +like a naturally modest, shrinking man, worked up to the calm +resolution of a martyr. The strong stamp of his face is devoted +enthusiasm. His eye is excessively bright, but quiet and habitually +downcast; his lips are set firmly, but without effort, +together; and his voice is almost sepulchral, it is so low and +calm. He never breaks through his melancholy, though his +refugee countrymen, except when Poland is alluded to, have all +the vivacity of French manners, and seem easily to forget their +misfortunes. He was silent, except when particularly addressed, +and had the air of a man who thought himself unobserved, and +had shrunk into his own mind. I felt that he was winning upon +my heart every moment. I never saw a man in my life whose +whole air and character were so free from self-consciousness or +pretension—never one who looked to me so capable of the calm, +lofty, unconquerable heroism of a martyr.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>"Paris is the centre of the world," if centripetal tendency is +any proof of it. Everything struck off from the other parts of +the universe flies straight to the <i>Palais Royal</i>. You may meet +in its thronged galleries, in the course of an hour, representatives +of every creed, rank, nation, and system, under heaven. Hussein +Pacha and Don Pedro pace daily the same <i>pavé</i>—the one +brooding on a kingdom lost, the other on the throne he hopes to +win; the Polish general and the proscribed Spaniard, the exiled +Italian conspirator, the contemptuous Turk, the well-dressed +negro from Hayti, and the silk-robed Persian, revolve by the +hour together around the same <i>jet d'eau</i>, and costumes of every +cut and order, mustaches and beards of every degree of ferocity +and oddity, press so fast and thick upon the eye that one forgets +to be astonished. There are no such things as "lions" in Paris. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span> +The extraordinary persons outnumber the ordinary. Every other +man you meet would keep a small town in a ferment for a month.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I spent yesterday at <i>Pére la Chaise</i>, and to day at <i>Versailles</i>. +The two places are in opposite environs, and of very opposite +characters—one certainly making you in love with life, the other +almost as certainly with death. One could wander for ever in +the wilderness of art at Versailles, and it must be a restless ghost +that could not content itself with <i>Pére la Chaise</i> for its elysium.</p> + +<p>This beautiful cemetery is built upon the broad ascent of a +hill, commanding the whole of Paris at a glance. It is a wood +of small trees, laid out in alleys, and crowded with tombs +and monuments of every possible description. You will scarce +get through without being surprised into a tear; but, if affectation +and fantasticalness in such a place do not more grieve than +amuse you, you will much oftener smile. The whole thing is a +melancholy mock of life. Its distinctions are all kept up. +There are the fashionable avenues, lined with costly chapels and +monuments, with the names of the exclusive tenants in golden +letters upon the doors, iron railings set forbiddingly about the +shrubs, and the blessing-scrap writ ambitiously in Latin. The +tablets record the long family titles, and the offices and honors, +perhaps the numberless virtues of the dead. They read like +chapters of heraldry more than like epitaphs. It is a relief to +get into the outer alleys, and see how poverty and simple feeling +express what should be the same thing. It is usually some brief +sentence, common enough, but often exquisitely beautiful in this +prettiest of languages, and expressing always the <i>kind</i> of sorrow +felt by the mourner. You can tell, for instance, by the sentiment +simply, without looking at the record below, whether the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span> +deceased was young, or much loved, or mourned by husband, or +parent, or brother, or a circle of all. I noticed one, however, +the humblest and simplest monument perhaps in the whole +cemetery, which left the story beautifully untold; it was a slab +of common marl, inscribed "<i>Pauvre Marie!</i>"—nothing more. I +have thought of it, and speculated upon it, a great deal since. +What was she? and who wrote her epitaph? <i>why</i> was she <i>pauvre +Marie</i>?</p> + +<p>Before almost all the poorer monuments is a minature garden +with a low wooden fence, and either the initials of the dead sown +in flowers, or rose-trees, carefully cultivated, trained to hang over +the stone. I was surprised to find, in a public cemetery, in +December, roses in full bloom and valuable exotics at almost +every grave. It speaks both for the sentiment and delicate +principle of the people. Few of the more costly monuments +were either interesting or pretty. One struck my fancy—a +small open chapel, large enough to contain four chairs, with the +slab facing the door, and a crucifix encircled with fresh flowers on +a simple shrine above. It is a place where the survivors in a +family might come and sit at any time, nowhere more pleasantly. +From the chapel I speak of, you may look out and see all Paris; +and I can imagine how it would lessen the feeling of desertion and +forgetfulness that makes the anticipation of death so dreadful, to +be certain that your friends would come, as they may here, and +talk cheerfully and enjoy themselves near you, so to speak. The +cemetery in summer must be one of the sweetest places in the +world.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Versailles</i> is a royal summer chateau, about twelve miles from +Paris, with a demesne of twenty miles in circumference. Take +that for the scale, and imagine a palace completed in proportion, +in all its details of grounds, ornament, and architecture. It cost, +says the guide book, two hundred and fifty millions of dollars; +and, leaving your fancy to expend that trifle over a residence, +which, remember, is but one out of some half dozen, occupied +during the year by a single family, I commend the republican +moral to your consideration, and proceed with the more particular +description of my visit.</p> + +<p>My friend, Dr. Howe, was my companion. We drove up the +grand avenue on one of the loveliest mornings that ever surprised +December with a bright sun and a warm south wind. Before us, +at the distance of a mile, lay a vast mass of architecture, with +the centre, falling back between the two projecting wings, the +whole crowning a long and gradual ascent, of which the tri-colored +flag waving against the sky from the central turrets was +the highest point. As we approached, we noticed an occasional +flash in the sun, and a stir of bright colors, through the broad +deep court between the wings, which, as we advanced nearer, +proved to be a body of about two or three thousand lancers and +troops of the line under review. The effect was indescribably fine. +The gay uniforms, the hundreds of tall lances, each with its red +flag flying in the wind, the imposing crescent of architecture in +which the array was embraced, the ringing echo of the grand +military music from the towers—and all this intoxication for the +positive senses fused with the historical atmosphere of the place, +the recollection of the king and queen, whose favorite residence it +had been (the unfortunate Louis and Marie Antoinette), or the +celebrated women who had lived in their separate palaces within +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span> +its grounds, of the genius and chivalry of Court after Court that +had made it, in turn, the scene of their brilliant follies, and, over +all, Napoleon, who <i>must</i> have rode through its gilded gates with +the thought of pride that he was its imperial master by the royalty +of his great nature alone—it was in truth, enough, the real and +the ideal, to dazzle the eyes of a simple republican.</p> + +<p>After gazing at the fascinating show for an hour, we took a guide +and entered the palace. We were walked through suite after suite +of cold apartments, desolately splendid with gold and marble, +and crowded with costly pictures, till I was sick and weary of +magnificence. The guide went before, saying over his rapid +rigmarole of names and dates, giving us about three minutes to a +room in which there were some twenty pictures, perhaps, of which +he presumed he had told us all that was necessary to know. +I fell behind, after a while; and, as a considerable English party +had overtaken and joined us, I succeeded in keeping one room in +the rear, and enjoying the remainder in my own way.</p> + +<p>The little marble palace, called "<i>Petit Trianon</i>," built for +Madame Pompadour in the garden grounds, is a beautiful affair, +full of what somebody calls "affectionate-looking rooms;" and +"<i>Grand Trianon</i>," built also on the grounds at the distance of +half a mile, for Madame Maintenon, is a very lovely spot, made +more interesting by the preference given to it over all other places +by Marie Antoinette. Here she amused herself with her Swiss +village. The cottages and artificial "mountains" (ten feet high, +perhaps) are exceedingly pretty models in miniature, and probably +illustrate very fairly the ideas of a palace-bred fancy upon +natural scenery. There are glens and grottoes, and rocky beds +for brooks that run at will ("<i>les rivieres à volonté</i>," the guide +called them), and trees set out upon the crags at most uncomfortable +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span> +angles, and every contrivance to make a lovely lawn as +inconveniently like nature as possible. The Swiss families, however, +must have been very amusing. Brought fresh from their +wild country, and set down in these pretty mock cottages, with +orders to live just as they did in their own mountains, they must +have been charmingly puzzled. In the midst of the village +stands an exquisite little Corinthian temple; and our guide +informed us that the cottage which the Queen occupied at her +Swiss tea-parties was furnished at an expense of sixty thousand +francs—two not very Switzer-like circumstances.</p> + +<p>It was in the little palace of <i>Trianon</i> that Napoleon signed his +divorce from Josephine. The guide showed us the room, and the +table on which he wrote. I have seen nothing that brought me +so near Napoleon. There is no place in France that could have +for me a greater interest. It is a little <i>boudoir</i>, adjoining the state +sleeping-room, simply furnished, and made for familiar retirement, +not for show. The single sofa—the small round table—the +enclosing, tent-like curtains—the modest, unobtrusive elegance +of ornaments, and furniture, give it rather the look of a retreat, +fashioned by the tenderness and taste of private life, than any +apartment in a royal palace. I felt unwilling to leave it. My +thoughts were too busy. What was the strongest motive of that +great man in this most affecting and disputed action of his life?</p> + +<p>After having been thridded through the palaces, we had a few +moments left for the grounds. They are magnificent beyond description. +We know very little of this thing in America, as an +art; but it is one, I have come to think, that, in its requisition +of genius, is scarce inferior to architecture. Certainly the three +palaces of Versailles together did not impress me so much as the +single view from the upper terrace of the gardens. It stretches +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span> +clear over the horizon. You stand on a natural eminence that +commands the whole country, and the plan seems to you like +some work of the Titans. The long sweep of the avenue, with a +breadth of descent that at the first glance takes away your breath, +stretching its two lines of gigantic statues and vases to the water +level; the wide, slumbering canal at its foot, carrying on the eye +to the horizon, like a river of an even flood lying straight through +the bosom of the landscape; the side avenues almost as extensive; +the palaces in the distant grounds, and the strange union +altogether, to an American, of as much extent as the eye can +reach, cultivated equally with the trim elegance of a garden—all +these, combining together, form a spectacle which nothing but +nature's royalty of genius could design, and (to descend ungracefully +from the climax) which only the exactions of an unnatural +royalty could pay for.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I think the most forcible lesson one learns at Paris is the +value of time and money. I have always been told, erroneously, +that it was a place to waste both. You could do so much with +another hour, if you had it, and buy so much with another dollar, +if you could afford it, that the reflected economy upon what you +<i>can</i> command, is inevitable. As to the worth of time, for instance, +there are some twelve or fourteen <i>gratuitous</i> lectures +every day at the <i>Sorbonne</i>, the <i>School of Medicine</i> and the <i>College +of France</i>, by men like Cuvier, Say, Spurzheim, and others, each, +in his professed pursuit, the most eminent perhaps in the world; +and there are the Louvre, and the Royal Library, and the Mazarin +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span> +Library, and similar public institutions, all open to gratuitous +use, with obsequious attendants, warm rooms, materials for +writing, and perfect seclusion; to say nothing of the thousand +interesting but less useful resorts with which Paris abounds, such +as exhibitions of flowers, porcelains, mosaics, and curious handiwork +of every description, and (more amusing and time-killing +still) the never-ending changes of sights in the public places, +from distinguished foreigners down to miracles of educated monkeys. +Life seems most provokingly short as you look at it. +Then, for money, you are more puzzled how to spend a poor +pitiful franc in Paris (it will buy so many things you want) than +you would be in America with the outlay of a month's income. +Be as idle and extravagant as you will, your idle hours look you +in the face as they pass, to know whether, in spite of the increase +of their value, you really mean to waste them; and the money +that slipped through your pocket you know not how at home, +sticks embarrassed to your fingers, from the mere multiplicity of +demands made for it. There are shops all over Paris called the +"<i>Vingt-cinq-sous</i>," where every article is fixed at that price—<i>twenty +five cents</i>! They contain everything you want, except a +wife and fire-wood—the only two things difficult to be got in +France. (The latter, with or without a pun, is much the <i>dearer</i> +of the two.) I wonder that they are not bought out, and sent +over to America on speculation. There is scarce an article in +them that would not be held cheap with us at five times its purchase. +There are bronze standishes for ink, sand, and wafers, +pearl paper-cutters, spice-lamps, decanters, essence-bottles, sets +of china, table-bells of all devices, mantel ornaments, vases of +artificial flowers, kitchen utensils, dog-collars, canes, guard-chains, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span> +chessmen whips, hammers, brushes, and everything that is either +convenient or pretty. You might freight a ship with them, and +all good and well finished, at twenty-five cents the set or article! +You would think the man were joking, to walk through his +shop. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER VIII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum">DR. BOWRING—AMERICAN ARTISTS—BRUTAL AMUSEMENT, ETC.</p> + +<p>I have met Dr. Bowring in Paris, and called upon him to-day +with Mr. Morse, by appointment. The translator of the +"Ode to the Deity" (from the Russian of Derzhavin) could not +by any accident be an ordinary man, and I anticipated great +pleasure in his society. He received us at his lodgings in the +<i>Place Vendome</i>. I was every way pleased with him. His knowledge +of our country and its literature surprised me, and I could +not but be gratified with the unprejudiced and well-informed interest +with which he discoursed on our government and institutions. +He expressed great pleasure at having seen his ode in +one of our schoolbooks (Pierpont's Reader, I think), and assured +us that the promise to himself of a visit to America was one of +his brightest anticipations. This is not at all an uncommon feeling, +by the way, among the men of talent in Paris; and I am +pleasingly surprised, everywhere, with the enthusiastic hopes expressed +for the success of our experiment in liberal principles. +Dr. Bowring is a slender man, a little above the middle height, +with a keen, inquisitive expression of countenance, and a good +forehead, from which the hair is combed straight back all round, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span> +in the style of the Cameronians. His manner is all life, and his +motion and gesture nervously sudden and angular. He talks +rapidly, but clearly, and uses beautiful language—concise, and +full of select expressions and vivid figures. His conversation in +this particular was a constant surprise. He gave us a great deal +of information, and when we parted, inquired my route of travel, +and offered me letters to his friends, with a cordiality very unusual +on this side the Atlantic.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>It is a cold but common rule with travellers in Europe to +avoid the society of their own countrymen. In a city like Paris, +where time and money are both so valuable, every additional +acquaintance, pursued either for etiquette or intimacy, is felt, +and one very soon learns to prefer his advantage to any tendency +of his sympathies. The infractions upon the rule, however, are +very delightful, and, at the general <i>réunion</i> at our ambassador's +on Wednesday evening, or an occasional one at Lafayette's, the +look of pleasure and relief at beholding familiar faces, and hearing +a familiar language once more, is universal. I have enjoyed +this morning the double happiness of meeting an American circle, +around an American breakfast. Mr. Cooper had invited us +(Morse, the artist, Dr. Howe, a gentleman of the navy, and myself). +Mr. C. lives with great hospitality, and in all the comfort +of American habits; and to find him as he is always found, with +his large family about him, is to get quite back to the atmosphere +of our country. The two or three hours we passed at his table +were, of course, delightful. It should endear Mr. Cooper to the +hearts of his countrymen, that he devotes all his influence, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span> +no inconsiderable portion of his large income, to the encouragement +of American artists. It would be natural enough, after +being so long abroad, to feel or affect a preference for the works +of foreigners; but in this, as in his political opinions, most decidedly, +he is eminently patriotic. We feel this in Europe, +where we discern more clearly by comparison the poverty of our +country in the arts, and meet, at the same time, American artists +of the first talent, without a single commission from home for +original works, copying constantly for support. One of Mr. +Cooper's purchases, the "Cherubs," by Greenough, has been +sent to the United States, and its merit was at once acknowledged. +It was done, however (the artist, who is here, informs me), under +every disadvantage of feeling and circumstances; and, from what +I have seen and am told by others of Mr. Greenough, it is, I am +confident, however beautiful, anything but a fair specimen of his +powers. His peculiar taste lies in a bolder range, and he needs +only a commission from government to execute a work which +will begin the art of sculpture nobly in our country.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>My curiosity led me into a strange scene to-day. I had observed +for some time among the placards upon the walls an advertisement +of an exhibition of "fighting animals," at the <i>Barriére +du Combat</i>. I am disposed to see almost any sight <i>once</i>, particularly +where it is, like this, a regular establishment, and, of course, +an exponent of the popular taste. The place of the "<i>Combats +des Animaux</i>," is in one of the most obscure suburbs, outside the +walls, and I found it with difficulty. After wandering about in +dirty lanes for an hour or two, inquiring for it in vain, the cries +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span> +of the animals directed me to a walled place, separated from the +other houses of the suburb, at the gate of which a man was +blowing a trumpet. I purchased a ticket of an old woman who +sat shivering in the porter's lodge; and, finding I was an hour +too early for the fights, I made interest with a savage-looking +fellow, who was carrying in tainted meat, to see the interior of +the establishment. I followed him through a side gate, and we +passed into a narrow alley, lined with stone kennels, to each of +which was confined a powerful dog, with just length of chain +enough to prevent him from reaching the tenant of the opposite +hole. There were several of these alleys, containing, I should +think, two hundred dogs in all. They were of every breed of +strength and ferocity, and all of them perfectly frantic with rage +or hunger, with the exception of a pair of noble-looking black +dogs, who stood calmly at the mouths of their kennels; the rest +struggled and howled incessantly, straining every muscle to +reach us, and resuming their fierceness toward each other when +we had passed by. They all bore, more or less, the marks of +severe battles; one or two with their noses split open, and still +unhealed; several with their necks bleeding and raw, and galled +constantly with the iron collar, and many with broken legs, but +all apparently so excited as to be insensible to suffering. After +following my guide very unwillingly through the several alleys, +deafened with the barking and howling of the savage occupants, +I was taken to the department of wild animals. Here were all +the tenants of the menagerie, kept in dens, opening by iron +doors upon the pit in which they fought. Like the dogs, they +were terribly wounded; one of the bears especially, whose mouth +was torn all off from his jaws, leaving his teeth perfectly exposed, +and red with the continually exuding blood. In one of the dens +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span> +lay a beautiful deer, with one of his haunches severely mangled, +who, the man told me, had been hunted round the pit by the +dogs but a day or two before. He looked up at us, with his +large soft eye, as we passed, and, lying on the damp stone floor, +with his undressed wounds festering in the chilly atmosphere of +mid-winter, he presented a picture of suffering which made me +ashamed to the soul of my idle curiosity.</p> + +<p>The spectators began to collect, and the pit was cleared. Two +thirds of those in the amphitheatre were Englishmen, most of +whom were amateurs, who had brought dogs of their own to pit +against the regular mastiffs of the establishment. These were +despatched first. A strange dog was brought in by the collar, +and loosed in the arena, and a trained dog let in upon him. It +was a cruel business. The sleek, well-fed, good-natured animal +was no match for the exasperated, hungry savage he was compelled +to encounter. One minute, in all the joy of a release +from his chain, bounding about the pit, and fawning upon his +master, and the next attacked by a furious mastiff, who was +taught to fasten on him at the first onset in a way that deprived +him at once of his strength; it was but a murderous exhibition +of cruelty. The combats between two of the trained dogs, however, +were more equal. These succeeded to the private contests, +and were much more severe and bloody. There was a small +terrier among them, who disabled several dogs successively, by +catching at their fore-legs, and breaking them instantly with a +powerful jerk of his body. I was very much interested in one of +the private dogs, a large yellow animal, of a noble expression of +countenance, who fought several times very unwillingly, but always +gallantly and victoriously. There was a majesty about him, +which seemed to awe his antagonists. He was carried off in his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span> +master's arms, bleeding and exhausted, after punishing the best +dogs of the establishment.</p> + +<p>The baiting of the wild animals succeeded the canine combats. +Several dogs (Irish, I was told), of a size and ferocity such as I +had never before seen, were brought in, and held in the leash +opposite the den of the bear whose head was so dreadfully +mangled.</p> + +<p>The door was then opened by the keeper, but poor bruin +shrunk from the contest. The dogs became unmanageable at +the sight of him, however, and, fastening a chain to his collar, +they drew him out by main force, and immediately closed the +grating. He fought gallantly, and gave more wounds than he +received, for his shaggy coat protected his body effectually. The +keepers rushed in and beat off the dogs, when they had nearly +finished peeling the remaining flesh from his head; and the poor +creature, perfectly blind and mad with pain, was dragged into +his den again, to await another day of <i>amusement</i>!</p> + +<p>I will not disgust you with more of these details. They +fought several foxes and wolves afterward, and, last of all, one of +the small donkeys of the country, a creature not so large as some +of the dogs, was led in, and the mastiffs loosed upon her. The +pity and indignation I felt at first at the cruelty of baiting so unwarlike +an animal, I soon found was quite unnecessary. She +was the severest opponent the dogs had yet found. She went +round the arena at full gallop, with a dozen savage animals +springing at her throat, but she struck right and left with her +fore-legs, and at every kick with her heels threw one of them +clear across the pit. One or two were left motionless on the +field, and others carried off with their ribs kicked in, and their +legs broken, while their inglorious antagonist escaped almost unhurt. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span> +One of the mastiffs fastened on her ear and threw her +down, in the beginning of the chase, but she apparently received +no other injury.</p> + +<p>I had remained till the close of the exhibition with some violence +to my feelings, and I was very glad to get away. Nothing +would tempt me to expose myself to a similar disgust again. +How the intelligent and gentlemanly Englishmen whom I saw +there, and whom I have since met in the most refined society of +Paris, can make themselves familiar, as they evidently were, +with a scene so brutal, I cannot very well conceive. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER IX.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum">MALIBRAN—PARIS AT MIDNIGHT—A MOB, ETC.</p> + +<p>Our beautiful and favorite <span class="smcap">Malibran</span> is playing in Paris this +winter. I saw her last night in Desdemona. The other theatres +are so attractive, between Taglioni, Robert le Diable (the new +opera), Leontine Fay, and the political pieces constantly coming +out, that I had not before visited the Italian opera. Madame +Malibran is every way changed. She sings, unquestionably, better +than when in America. Her voice is firmer, and more under +control, but it has lost that gushing wildness, that brilliant daringness +of execution, that made her singing upon our boards so indescribably +exciting and delightful. Her person is perhaps still more +changed. The round, graceful fulness of her limbs and features +has yielded to a half-haggard look of care and exhaustion, and I +could not but think that there was more than Desdemona's fictitious +wretchedness in the expression of her face. Still, her forehead +and eyes have a beauty that is not readily lost, and she will +be a strikingly interesting, and even splendid creature, as long as +she can play. Her acting was extremely impassioned; and in +the more powerful passages of her part, she exceeded everything +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span> +I had conceived of the capacity of the human voice for pathos +and melody. The house was crowded, and the applause was frequent +and universal.</p> + +<p>Madame Malibran, as you probably know, is divorced from +the man whose name she bears, and has married a violinist of +the Italian orchestra. She is just now in a state of health that +will require immediate retirement from the stage, and, indeed, +has played already too long. She came forward after the curtain +dropped, in answer to the continual demand of the audience, +leaning heavily on Rubini, and was evidently so exhausted as to +be scarcely able to stand. She made a single gesture, and was +led off immediately, with her head drooping on her breast, amid +the most violent acclamations. She is a perfect passion with the +French, and seems to have out-charmed their usual caprice.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>It was a lovely night, and after the opera I walked home. I +reside a long distance from the places of public amusement. Dr. +Howe and myself had stopped at a <i>café</i> on the Italian Boulevards +an hour, and it was very late. The streets were nearly +deserted—here and there a solitary cabriolet with the driver +asleep under his wooden apron, or the motionless figure of a +municipal guardsman, dozing upon his horse, with his helmet and +brazen armor glistening in the light of the lamps. Nothing has +impressed me more, by the way, than a body of these men passing +me in the night. I have once or twice met the King returning +from the theatre with a guard, and I saw them once at midnight +on an extraordinary patrol winding through the arch into +the Place Carrousel. Their equipments are exceedingly warlike +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span> +(helmets of brass, and coats of mail), and, with the gleam of the +breast-plates through their horsemen's cloaks, the tramp of +hoofs echoing through the deserted streets, and the silence and +order of their march, it was quite a realization of the descriptions +of chivalry.</p> + +<p>We kept along the Boulevards to the Rue Richelieu. A carriage, +with footmen in livery, had just driven up to Frascati's, +and, as we passed, a young man of uncommon personal beauty +jumped out and entered that palace of gamblers. By his dress +he was just from a ball, and the necessity of excitement after a +scene meant to be so gay, was an obvious if not a fair satire on +the happiness of the "gay" circle in which he evidently moved. +We turned down the Passage Panorama, perhaps the most +crowded thoroughfare in all Paris, and traversed its long gallery +without meeting a soul. The widely-celebrated <i>patisserie</i> of +Felix, the first pastry-cook in the world, was the only shop open +from one extremity to the other. The guard, in his gray capote, +stood looking in at the window, and the girl, who had served the +palates of half the fashion and rank of Paris since morning, sat +nodding fast asleep behind the counter, paying the usual +fatiguing penalty of notoriety. The clock struck two as we +passed the <i>façade</i> of the Bourse. This beautiful and central +square is, night and day, the grand rendezvous of public vice; +and late as the hour was, its <i>pavé</i> was still thronged with flaunting +and painted women of the lowest description, promenading +without cloaks or bonnets, and addressing every passer-by.</p> + +<p>The Palais Royal lay in our way, just below the Bourse, and +we entered its magnificent court with an exclamation of new +pleasure. Its thousand lamps were all burning brilliantly, the +long avenues of trees were enveloped in a golden atmosphere +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span> +created by the bright radiation of light through the mist, the +Corinthian pillars and arches retreated on either side from the +eye in distinct and yet mellow perspective, the fountain filled the +whole palace with its rich murmur, and the broad marble-paved +galleries, so thronged by day, were as silent and deserted as if the +drowsy <i>gens d'armes</i> standing motionless on their posts were the +only living beings that inhabited it. It was a scene really of +indescribable impressiveness. No one who has not seen this +splendid palace, enclosing with its vast colonnades so much that +is magnificent, can have an idea of its effect upon the imagination. +I had seen it hitherto only when crowded with the gay and +noisy idlers of Paris, and the contrast of this with the utter solitude +it now presented—not a single footfall to be heard on its +floors, yet every lamp burning bright, and the statues and flowers +and fountains all illuminated as if for a revel—was one of the +most powerful and captivating that I have ever witnessed. We +loitered slowly down one of the long galleries, and it seemed to +me more like some creation of enchantment than the public haunt +it is of pleasure and merchandise. A single figure, wrapped in a +cloak, passed hastily by us and entered the door to one of the +celebrated "hells," in which the playing scarce commences till +this hour—but we met no other human being.</p> + +<p>We passed on from the grand court to the Galerie Nemours. +This, as you may find in the descriptions, is a vast hall, standing +between the east and west courts of the Palais Royal. It is +sometimes called the "glass gallery." The roof is of glass, and +the shops, with fronts entirely of windows, are separated only by +long mirrors, reaching in the shape of pillars from the roof to the +floor. The pavement is tesselated, and at either end stand two +columns completing its form, and dividing it from the other +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span> +galleries into which it opens. The shops are among the +costliest in Paris; and what with the vast proportions of the hall, +its beautiful and glistening material, and the lightness and grace +of its architecture, it is, even when deserted, one of the most +fairy-like places in this fantastic city. It is the lounging place +of military men particularly; and every evening from six to midnight, +it is thronged by every class of gayly dressed people, +officers off duty, soldiers, polytechnic scholars, ladies, and +strangers of every costume and complexion, promenading to and +fro in the light of the <i>cafés</i> and the dazzling shops, sheltered +completely from the weather, and enjoying, without expense or +ceremony, a scene more brilliant than the most splendid ball-room +in Paris. We lounged up and down the long echoing +pavement an hour. It was like some kingly "banquet hall +deserted." The lamps burned dazzlingly bright, the mirrors +multiplied our figures into shadowy and silent attendants, and +our voices echoed from the glittering roof in the utter stillness of +the hour, as if we had broken in, Thalaba-like, upon some magical +palace of silence.</p> + +<p>It is singular how much the differences of time and weather +affect scenery. The first sunshine I saw in Paris, unsettled all +my previous impressions completely. I had seen every place of +interest through the dull heavy atmosphere of a week's rain, and +it was in such leaden colors alone that the finer squares and +palaces had become familiar to me. The effect of a clear sun +upon them was wonderful. The sudden gilding of the dome of +the Invalides by Napoleon must have been something like it. I +took advantage of it to see everything over again, and it seemed +to me like another city. I never realized so forcibly the beauty +of sunshine. Architecture, particularly, is nothing without it. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span> +Everything looks heavy and flat. The tracery of the windows +and relievos, meant to be definite and airy, appears clumsy and +confused, and the whole building flattens into a solid mass, +without design or beauty.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I have spent the whole day in a Paris mob. The arrival of +General Romarino and some of his companions from Warsaw, +gave the malcontents a plausible opportunity of expressing their +dislike to the measures of government; and, under cover of a +public welcome to this distinguished Pole, they assembled in immense +numbers at the Port St. Denis, and on the Boulevard +Montmartre. It was very exciting altogether. The cavalry +were out, and patroled the streets in companies, charging upon +the crowd wherever there was a stand; the troops of the line +marched up and down the Boulevards, continually dividing the +masses of people, and forbidding any one to stand still. The +shops were all shut, in anticipation of an affray. The students +endeavored to cluster, and resisted, as far as they dared, the +orders of the soldiery; and from noon till night there was every +prospect of a quarrel. The French are a fine people under +excitement. Their handsome and ordinarily heartless faces become +very expressive under the stronger emotions; and their +picturesque dresses and violent gesticulation, set off a popular +tumult exceedingly. I have been highly amused all day, and +have learned a great deal of what it is very difficult for a foreigner +to acquire—the language of French passion. They express +themselves very forcibly when angry. The constant irritation +kept up by the intrusion of the cavalry upon the sidewalks, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span> +the rough manner of dispersing gentlemen by sabre-blows and +kicks with the stirrup, gave me sufficient opportunity of judging. +I was astonished, however, that their summary mode of proceeding +was borne at all. It is difficult to mix in such a vast body, and +not catch its spirit, and I found myself, without knowing why, or +rather with a full conviction that the military measures were +necessary and right, entering with all my heart into the rebellious +movements of the students, and boiling with indignation at every +dispersion by force. The students of Paris are probably the +worst subjects the king has. They are mostly young men of from +twenty to twenty-five, full of bodily vigor and enthusiasm, and +excitable to the last degree. Many of them are Germans, and +no small proportion Americans. They make a good <i>amalgam</i> +for a mob, dress being the last consideration, apparently, with a +medical or law student in Paris. I never saw such a collection +of atrocious-looking fellows as are to be met at the lectures. The +polytechnic scholars, on the other hand, are the finest-looking +body of young men I ever saw. Aside from their uniform, which +is remarkably neat and beautiful, their figures and faces seem +picked for spirit and manliness. They have always a distinguished +air in a crowd, and it is easy, after seeing them, to imagine +the part they played as leaders in the revolution of the three +days.</p> + +<p>Contrary to my expectation, night came on without any +serious encounter. One or two individuals attempted to resist +the authority of the troops, and were considerably bruised; and +one young man, a student, had three of his fingers cut off by the +stroke of a dragoon's sabre. Several were arrested, but by eight +o'clock all was quiet, and the shops on the Boulevards once more +exposed their tempting goods, and lit up their brilliant mirrors +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span> +without fear. The people thronged to the theatres to see the +political pieces, and evaporate their excitement in cheers at the +liberal allusions; and so ends a tumult that threatened danger, +but operated, perhaps, as a healthful vent for the accumulating +disorders of public opinion. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER X.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +GARDEN OF THE TUILERIES—FASHIONABLE DRIVES—FRENCH +OMNIBUSES—CHEAP RIDING—SIGHTS—STREET-BEGGARS—IMPOSTORS, +ETC.</p> + +<p>The garden of the Tuileries is an idle man's paradise. Magnificent +as it is in extent, sculptures, and cultivation, we all know +that statues may be too dumb, gravel walks too long and level, +and trees and flowers and fountains a little too Platonic, with any +degree of beauty. But the Tuileries are peopled at all hours of +sunshine with, to me, the most lovely objects in the world—children. +You may stop a minute, perhaps, to look at the +thousand gold fishes in the basin under the palace-windows, or +follow the swans for a single voyage round the fountain in the +broad avenue—but you will sit on your hired chair (at this season) +under the shelter of the sunny wall, and gaze at the children +chasing about, with their attending Swiss maids, till your heart +has outwearied your eyes, or the palace-clock strikes five. I +have been there repeatedly since I have been in Paris, and have +seen nothing like the children. They move my heart always, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span> +more than anything under heaven; but a French child, with an +accent that all your paid masters cannot give, and manners, in the +midst of its romping, that mock to the life the air and courtesy +for which Paris has a name over the world, is enough to make +one forget Napoleon, though the column of Vendome throws its +shadow within sound of their voices. Imagine sixty-seven acres +of beautiful creatures (that is the extent of the garden, and I +have not seen such a thing as an <i>ugly</i> French child)—broad avenues +stretching away as far as you can see, covered with little +foreigners (so they seem to <i>me</i>), dressed in gay colors, and laughing +and romping and talking French, in all the amusing mixture +of baby passions and grown-up manners, and answer me—is it +not a sight better worth seeing than all the grand palaces that +shut it in?</p> + +<p>The Tuileries are certainly very magnificent, and, to walk +across from the Seine to the Rue Rivoli, and look up the endless +walks and under the long perfect arches cut through the trees, +may give one a very pretty surprise for once—but a winding lane +is a better place to enjoy the loveliness of green leaves, and a +single New England elm, letting down its slender branches to the +ground in the inimitable grace of nature, has, to my eye, more +beauty than all the clipped vistas from the king's palace to the +<i>Arc de l'Etoile</i>, the <i>Champs Elysées</i> inclusive.</p> + +<p>One of the finest things in Paris, by the way, is the view from +the terrace in front of the palace to this "Arch of Triumph," +commenced by Napoleon at the extremity of the "Elysian +Fields," a single avenue of about two miles. The part beyond +the gardens is the <i>fashionable drive</i>, and, by a saunter on horseback +to the <i>Bois de Boulogne</i>, between four and five, on a +pleasant day, one may see all the dashing equipages in Paris. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span> +Broadway, however, would eclipse everything here, either for +beauty of construction or appointments. Our carriages are +every way handsomer and better hung, and the horses are +harnessed more compactly and gracefully. The lumbering +vehicles here make a great show, it is true—for the box, with +its heavy hammer-cloth, is level with the top, and the coachman +and footmen and outriders are very striking in their bright +liveries; but the elegant, convenient, light-running establishments +of Philadelphia and New York, excel them, out of all comparison, +for taste and fitness. The best driving I have seen is by the +king's whips, and really it is beautiful to see his retinue on the +road, four or five coaches and six, with footmen and outriders +in scarlet liveries, and the finest horses possible for speed and +action. His majesty generally takes the outer edge of the +<i>Champs Elysées</i>, on the bank of the river, and the rapid +glimpses of the bright show through the breaks in the wood, are +exceedingly picturesque.</p> + +<p>There is nothing in Paris that looks so outlandish to my eye as +the common vehicles. I was thinking of it this morning as I +stood waiting for the <i>St. Sulpice omnibus</i>, at the corner of the +Rue Vivienne, the great thoroughfare between the Boulevards +and the Palais Royal. There was the hack-cabriolet lumbering +by in the fashion of two centuries ago, with a horse and harness +that look equally ready to drop in pieces; the hand-cart with a +stout dog harnessed under the axle-tree, drawing with twice the +strength of his master; the market-waggon, driven always by +women, and drawn generally by a horse and mule abreast, the +horse of the Norman breed, immensely large, and the mule about +the size of a well-grown bull-dog; a vehicle of which I have not +yet found out the name, a kind of demi-omnibus, with two wheels +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span> +and a single horse, and carrying nine; and last, but not least +amusing, a small close carriage for one person, swung upon two +wheels and drawn by a servant, very much used, apparently, by +elderly women and invalids, and certainly most admirable conveniences +either for the economy or safety of getting about a city. +It would be difficult to find an American servant who would draw +in harness as they do here; and it is amusing to see a stout, well-dressed +fellow, strapped to a carriage, and pulling along the +<i>pavés</i>, sometimes at a jog-trot, while his master or mistress sits +looking unconcernedly out of the window.</p> + +<p>I am not yet decided whether the French are the best or the +worst drivers in the world. If the latter they certainly have +most miraculous escapes. A cab-driver never pulls the reins +except upon great emergencies, or for a right-about turn, and +his horse has a most ludicrous aversion to a straight line. The +streets are built inclining toward the centre, with the gutter in +the middle, and it is the habit of all cabriolet-horses to run down +one side and up the other constantly at such sudden angles that +it seems to you they certainly will go through the shop windows. +This, of course, is very dangerous to foot-passengers in a city +where there are no side-walks; and, as a consequence, the average +number of complaints to the police of Paris for people killed by +careless driving, is about four hundred annually. There are +probably twice the number of legs broken. One becomes vexed +in riding with these fellows, and I have once or twice undertaken +to get into a French passion, and insist upon driving myself. +But I have never yet met with an accident. "<i>Gar-r-r-r-e!</i>" +sings out the driver, rolling the word off his tongue like a bullet +from a shovel, but never thinking to lift his loose reins from the +dasher, while the frightened passenger, without looking round, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span> +makes for the first door with an alacrity that shows a habit of +expecting very little from the <i>cocher's</i> skill.</p> + +<p>Riding is very cheap in Paris, if managed a little. The city is +traversed constantly in every direction by omnibuses, and you +may go from the Tuileries to <i>Père la Chaise</i>, or from St. +Sulpice to the Italian Boulevards (the two diagonals), or take +the "<i>Tous les Boulevards</i>" and ride quite round the city for six +sous the distance. The "<i>fiacre</i>" is like our own hacks, except +that you pay but "twenty <i>sous</i> the course," and fill the vehicle +with your friends if you please; and, more cheap and comfortable +still, there is the universal cabriolet, which for "fifteen <i>sous</i> the +course," or "twenty the hour," will give you at least three times +the value of your money, with the advantage of seeing ahead and +talking bad French with the driver.</p> + +<p>Everything in France is either <i>grotesque</i> or <i>picturesque</i>. I +have been struck with it this morning, while sitting at my +window, looking upon the close inner court of the hotel. One +would suppose that a <i>pavé</i> between four high walls, would offer +very little to seduce the eye from its occupation; but on the contrary, +one's whole time may be occupied in watching the various +sights presented in constant succession. First comes the itinerant +cobbler, with his seat and materials upon his back, and coolly +selecting a place against the wall, opens his shop under your +window, and drives his trade, most industriously, for half an hour. +If you have anything to mend, he is too happy; if not he has not +lost his time, for he pays no rent, and is all the while at work. +He packs up again, bows to the <i>concierge</i>, as politely as his load +will permit, and takes his departure, in the hope to find your +shoes more worn another day. Nothing could be more striking +than his whole appearance. He is met in the gate, perhaps, by +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span> +an old clothes man, who will buy or sell, and compliment you for +nothing, cheapening your coat by calling the Virgin to witness +that your shape is so genteel that it will not fit one man in a +thousand; or by a family of singers, with a monkey to keep time; +or a regular beggar, who, however, does not dream of asking +charity till he has done something to amuse you; after these, +perhaps, will follow a succession of objects singularly peculiar to +this fantastic metropolis; and if one could separate from the poor +creatures the knowledge of the cold and hunger they suffer, +wandering about, houseless, in the most inclement weather, it +would be easy to imagine it a diverting pantomime, and give them +the poor pittance they ask, as the price of an amused hour. An +old man has just gone from the court who comes regularly twice a +week, with a long beard, perfectly white, and a strange kind of +an equipage. It is an organ, set upon a rude carriage, with four +small wheels, and drawn by a mule, of the most diminutive size, +looking (if it were not for the venerable figure crouched upon the +seat) like some roughly-contrived plaything. The whole affair, +harness and all, is evidently his own work; and it is affecting to +see the difficulty, and withal, the habitual apathy with which the +old itinerant fastens his rope-reins beside him, and dismounts to +grind his one—solitary—eternal tune, for charity.</p> + +<p>Among the thousands of wretched objects in Paris (they make +the heart sick with their misery at every turn), there is, here and +there, one of an interesting character; and it is pleasant to select +them, and make a habit of your trifling gratuity. Strolling +about, as I do, constantly, and letting everybody and everything +amuse me that will, I have made several of these penny-a-day +acquaintances, and find them very agreeable breaks to the heartless +solitude of a crowd. There is a little fellow who stands by +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span> +the gate of the Tuileries, opening to the Place Vendome, who, +with all the rags and dirt of a street-boy, begs with an air of +superiority that is absolutely patronizing. One feels obliged to +the little varlet for the privilege of giving to him—his smile +and manner are so courtly. His face is beautiful, dirty as it is; +his voice is clear, and unaffected, and his thin lips have an +expression of high-bred contempt, that amuses me a little, and +puzzles me a great deal. I think he must have gentleman's +blood in his veins, though he possibly came indirectly by it. +There is a little Jewess hanging about the Louvre, who begs +with her dark eyes very eloquently; and in the <i>Rue de la Paix</i> +there may be found at all hours, a melancholy, sick-looking +Italian boy, with his hand in his bosom, whose native language +and picture-like face are a diurnal pleasure to me, cheaply +bought with the poor trifle which makes him happy. It is +surprising how many devices there are in the streets for attracting +attention and pity. There is a woman always to be seen +upon the Boulevards, playing a solemn tune on a violin, with a +child as pallid as ashes, lying, apparently, asleep in her lap. I +suspected, after seeing it once or twice, that it was wax, and a +day or two since I satisfied myself of the fact, and enraged the +mother excessively by touching its cheek. It represents a sick +child to the life, and any one less idle and curious would be +deceived. I have often seen people give her money with the +most unsuspecting look of sympathy, though it would be natural +enough to doubt the maternal kindness of keeping a dying child +in the open air in mid-winter. Then there is a woman without +hands, making braid with wonderful adroitness; and a man without +legs or arms, singing, with his hat set appealingly on the +ground before him; and cripples, exposing their abbreviated +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span> +limbs, and telling their stories over and over, with or without +listeners, from morning till night; and every description of appeal +to the most acute sympathies, mingled with all the gayety, show, +and fashion, of the most crowded promenade in Paris.</p> + +<p>In the present dreadful distress of trade, there are other still +more painful cases of misery. It is not uncommon to be addressed +in the street by men of perfectly respectable appearance, +whose faces bear every mark of strong mental struggle, and often +of famishing necessity, with an appeal for the smallest sum that +will buy food. The look of misery is so general, as to mark the +whole population. It has struck me most forcibly everywhere, +notwithstanding the gayety of the national character, and, I am +told by intelligent Frenchmen, it is peculiar to the time, and felt +and observed by all. Such things startle one back to nature +sometimes. It is difficult to look away from the face of a starving +man, and see the splendid equipages, and the idle waste upon +trifles, within his very sight, and reconcile the contrast with any +belief of the existence of human pity—still more difficult, perhaps, +to admit without reflection, the right of one human being +to hold in a shut hand, at will, the very life and breath for which +his fellow-creatures are perishing at his door. It is this that is +visited back so terribly in the horrors of a revolution. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XI.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +FOYETIÉR—THE THRACIAN GLADIATOR—MADEMOISELLE MARS—DOCTOR +FRANKLIN'S RESIDENCE IN PARIS—ANNUAL BALL +FOR THE POOR.</p> + +<p>I had the pleasure to day of being introduced to the young +sculptor Foyetiér, the author of the new statue on the terrace +of the Tuileries. Aside from his genius, he is interesting from a +circumstance connected with his early history. He was a herd-driver +in one of the provinces, and amused himself in his leisure +moments with the carving of rude images, which he sold for a +sous or two on market-days in the provincial town. The celebrated +Dr. Gall fell in with him accidentally, and felt of his head, +<i>en passant</i>. The bump was there which contains his present +greatness, and the phrenologist took upon himself the risk of his +education in the arts. He is now the first sculptor, beyond all +competition, in France. His "<i>Spartacus</i>," the Thracian gladiator, +is the admiration of Paris. It stands in front of the palace, +in the most conspicuous part of the regal gardens, and there are +hundreds of people about the pedestal at all hours of the day. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span> +The gladiator has broken his chain, and stands with his weapon +in his hand, every muscle and feature breathing action, his body +thrown back, and his right foot planted powerfully for a spring. +It is a gallant thing. One's blood stirs to look at it.</p> + +<p><i>Foyetiér</i> is a young man, I should think about thirty. He is +small, very plain in appearance; but he has a rapid, earnest eye, +and a mouth of singular suavity of expression. I liked him extremely. +His celebrity seems not to have trenched a step on the +nature of his character. His genius is everywhere allowed, and +he works for the king altogether, his majesty bespeaking everything +he attempts, even in the model; but he is, certainly, of all +geniuses, one of the most modest.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>The celebrated Mars has come out from her retirement once +more, and commenced an engagement at the <i>Theatre Français</i>. +I went a short time since to see her play in Tartuffe. This stage +is the home of the true French drama. Here Talma played +when he and Mademoiselle Mars were the delight of Napoleon +and of France. I have had few gratifications greater than that +of seeing this splendid woman re-appear in the place were she +won her brilliant reputation. The play, too, was <i>Moliere's</i>, and +it was here that it was first performed. Altogether it was like +something plucked back from history; a renewal, as in a magic +mirror, of glories gone by.</p> + +<p>I could scarce believe my eyes when she appeared as the "wife +of Argon." She looked about twenty-five. Her step was light +and graceful; Her voice was as unlike that of a woman of sixty +as could well be imagined; sweet, clear, and under a control +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span> +which gives her a power of expression I never had conceived +before; her mouth had the definite, firm play of youth; her +teeth (though the dentist might do that) were white and perfect, +and her eyes can have lost none of their fire, I am sure. I never +saw so <i>quiet</i> a player. Her gestures were just perceptible, no +more; and yet they were done so exquisitely at the right moment—so +unconsciously, as if she had not meant them, that they +were more forcible than even the language itself. She repeatedly +drew a low murmur of delight from the whole house with a single +play of expression across her face, while the other characters were +speaking, or by a slight movement of her fingers, in pantomimic +astonishment or vexation. It was really something new to me. +I had never before seen a first-rate female player in <i>comedy</i>. +Leontine Fay is inimitable in tragedy; but, if there be any comparison +between them, it is that this beautiful young creature +overpowers the <i>heart</i> with her nature, while Mademoiselle Mars +satisfies the uttermost demand of the <i>judgment</i> with her art.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I yesterday visited the house occupied by Franklin while he +was in France. It is one of the most beautiful country residences +in the neighborhood of Paris, standing on the elevated +ground of Passy, and overlooking the whole city on one side, and +the valley of the Seine for a long distance toward Versailles on +the other. The house is otherwise celebrated. Madame de Genlis +lived there while the present king was her pupil; and Louis XV. +occupied it six months for the country air, while under the infliction +of the gout—its neighborhood to the palace probably rendering +it preferable to the more distant <i>chateaux</i> of St. Cloud or +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span> +Versailles. Its occupants would seem to have been various +enough, without the addition of a Lieutenant-General of the +British army, whose hospitality makes it delightful at present. +The lightning-rod, which was raised by Franklin, and which was +the first conductor used in France, is still standing. The gardens +are large, and form a sort of terrace, with the house on the +front edge. It must be one of the sweetest places in the world +in summer.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>The great annual ball for the poor was given at the <i>Academie +Royale</i>, a few nights since. This is attended by the king and +royal family, and is ordinarily the most splendid affair of the +season. It is managed by twenty or thirty lady-patronesses, who +have the control of the tickets; and, though by no means exclusive, +it is kept within very respectable limits; and, if one is +content to float with the tide, and forego dancing, is an unusually +comfortable and well-behaved spectacle.</p> + +<p>I went with a large party at the early hour of eight. We fell +into the train of carriages, advancing slowly between files of dragoons, +and stood before the door in our turn in the course of an +hour. The staircases were complete orangeries, with immense +mirrors at every turn, and soldiers on guard, and servants in +livery, from top to bottom. The long saloon, lighted by ten +chandeliers, was dressed and hung with wreaths as a receiving-room; +and passing on through the spacious lobbies, which +were changed into groves of pines and exotics, we entered upon +the grand scene. The <i>coup d'œil</i> would have astonished Aladdin. +The theatre, which is the largest in Paris, and gorgeously built +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span> +and ornamented, was thrown into one vast ball-room, ascending +gradually from the centre to platforms raised at either end, one +of which was occupied by the throne and seats for the king's +family and suite. The four rows of boxes were crowded with +ladies, and the house presented, from the floor to the <i>paradis</i>, +one glittering and waving wall of dress, jewelry, and feathers. +An orchestra of near a hundred musicians occupied the centre +of the hall; and on either side of them swept by the long, countless +multitudes of people, dressed with a union of taste and show; +while, instead of the black coats which darken the complexion of +a party in a republican country, every other gentleman was in a +gay uniform; and polytechnic scholars, with their scarlet-faced +coats, officers of the "National Guard" and the "line," gentlemen +of the king's household, and foreign ministers, and <i>attachés</i>, +presented a variety of color and splendor which nothing could +exceed.</p> + +<p>The theatre itself was not altered, except by the platform occupied +by the king; it is sufficiently splendid as it stands; but +the stage, whose area is much larger than that of the pit, was +hung in rich drapery as a vast tent, and garnished to profusion +with flags and arms. Along the sides, on a level with the lower +row of boxes, extended galleries of crimson velvet, festooned with +flowers. These were filled with ladies, and completed a circle +about the house of beauty and magnificence, of which the king +and his dazzling suite formed the <i>corona</i>. Chandeliers were hung +close together from one end of the hall to the other. I commenced +counting them once or twice, but some bright face flitting +by in the dance interrupted me. An English girl near me +counted fifty-five, and I think there must have been more. The +blaze of light was almost painful. The air glittered, and the fine +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span> +grain of the most delicate complexions was distinctly visible. It +is impossible to describe the effect of so much light and space +and music crowded into one spectacle. The vastness of the hall, +so long that the best sight could not distinguish a figure at the +opposite extremity, and so high as to absorb and mellow the +vibration of a hundred instruments—the gorgeous sweep of splendor +from one platform to the other, absolutely drowning the eye +in a sea of gay colors, nodding feathers, jewelry, and military +equipment—the delicious music, the strange faces, dresses, and +tongues, (one-half of the multitude at least being foreigners), the +presence of the king, and the gallant show of uniforms in his +conspicuous <i>suite</i>, combined to make up a scene more than sufficiently +astonishing. I felt the whole night the smothering consciousness +of senses too narrow—eyes, ears, language, all too +limited for the demand made upon them.</p> + +<p>The king did not arrive till after ten. He entered by a silken +curtain in the rear of the platform on which seats were placed for +his family. The "<i>Vive le Roi</i>" was not so hearty as to drown +the music, but his majesty bowed some twenty times very graciously, +and the good-hearted queen curtsied, and kept a smile +on her excessively plain face, till I felt the muscles of my own +ache for her. King Philippe looks anxious. By the remarks of +the French people about me when he entered, he has reason for +it. I observed that the polytechnic scholars all turned their +backs upon him; and one exceedingly handsome, spirited-looking +boy, standing just at my side, muttered a "<i>sacré!</i>" and bit +his lip, with a very revolutionary air, at the continuance of the +acclamation. His majesty came down, and walked through the +hall about midnight. His eldest son, the Duke of Orleans, a +handsome, unoffending-looking youth of eighteen, followed him, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span> +gazing round upon the crowd with his mouth open, and looking +very much annoyed at his part of the pageant. The young duke +has a good figure, and is certainly a very beautiful dancer. His +mouth is loose and weak, and his eyes are as opaque as agates. +He wore the uniform of the <i>Garde Nationale</i>, which does not become +him. In ordinary gentleman's dress, he is a very authentical +copy of a Bond-street dandy, and looks as little like a +Frenchman as most of Stultz's subjects. He danced all the +evening, and selected, very popularly, decidedly the most vulgar +women in the room, looking all the while as one who had been +petted by the finest women in France (Leontine Fay among the +number), might be supposed to look, under such an infliction. +The king's second son, the Duke of Nemours, pursued the same +policy. He has a brighter face than his brother, with hair almost +white, and dances extremely well. The second daughter is +also much prettier than the eldest. On the whole, the king's +family is a very plain, though a very amiable one, and the people +seem attached to them.</p> + +<p>These general descriptions, are, after all, very vague. Here I +have written half a sheet with a picture in my mind of which you +are getting no semblable idea. Language is a mere skeleton of +such things. The <i>Academie Royale</i> should be borne over the +water like the chapel of Loretto, and set down in Broadway with +all its lights, music, and people, to give you half a notion of the +"<i>Bal en faveur des Pauvres</i>." And so it is with everything +except the little histories of one's own personal atmosphere, +and that is the reason why egotism should be held virtuous in a +traveller, and the reason why one cannot study Europe at +home.</p> + +<p>After getting our American party places, I abandoned myself +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span> +to the strongest current, and went in search of "lions." The +first face that arrested my eye was that of the Duchess +D'Istria, a woman celebrated here for her extraordinary personal +beauty.</p> + +<p>Directly opposite this lovely dutchess, in the other stage-box, +sat Donna Maria, the young Queen of Portugal, surrounded by +her relatives. The ex-empress, her mother, was on her right, +her grandmother on her left, and behind her some half dozen of +her Portuguese cousins. She is a little girl of twelve or fourteen, +with a fat, heavy face, and a remarkably pampered, sleepy look. +She was dressed like an old woman, and gaped incessantly the +whole evening. The box was a perfect blaze of diamonds. I +never before realized the beauty of these splendid stones. The +necks, heads, arms, and waists of the ladies royal were all +streaming with light. The necklace of the empress mother particularly +flashed on the eye in every part of the house. By the +unceasing exclamations of the women, it was an unusually brilliant +show, even here. The little Donna has a fine, well-rounded +chin; and when she smiled in return to the king's bow, I thought +I could see more than a child's character in the expression of her +mouth. I should think a year or two of mental uneasiness +might let out a look of intelligence through her heavy features. +She is likely to have it, I think, with the doubtful fortunes that +seem to beset her.</p> + +<p>I met Don Pedro often in society before his departure upon his +expedition. He is a short, well-made man, of great personal +accomplishment, and a very bad expression, rather aggravated by +an unfortunate cutaneous eruption. The first time I saw him, I +was induced to ask who he was, from the apparent coldness and +dislike with which he was treated by a lady whose beauty had +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span> +strongly arrested my attention. He sat by her on a sofa in a +very crowded party, and seemed to be saying something very earnestly, +which made the lady's Spanish eyes flash fire, and brought +a curl of very positive anger upon a pair of the loveliest lips +imaginable. She was a slender, aristocratic-looking creature, and +dressed most magnificently. After glancing at them a minute or +two, I made up my mind that, from the authenticity of his dress +and appointments, he was an Englishman, and that she was some +French lady of rank whom he was particularly annoying with his +addresses. On inquiry, the gentleman proved to be Don Pedro, +and the lady the Countess de Lourle, <i>his sister</i>! I have often +met her since, and never without wondering how two of the same +family could look so utterly unlike each other. The Count de +Lourle is called the Adonis of Paris. He is certainly a very +splendid fellow, and justifies the romantic admiration of his wife, +who married him clandestinely, giving him her left hand in the +ceremony, as is the etiquette, they say, when a princess marries +below her rank. One can not help looking with great interest on +a beautiful creature like this, who has broken away from the +imposing fetters of a royal sphere, to follow the dictates of +natural feeling. It does not occur so often in Europe that +one may not sentimentalize about it without the charge of affectation.</p> + +<p>To return to the ball. The king bowed himself out a little +after midnight, and with him departed most of the fat people, and +all the little girls. This made room enough to dance, and the +French set themselves at it in good earnest. I wandered about +for an hour or two; after wearying my imagination quite out in +speculating on the characters and rank of people whom I never +saw before and shall probably never see again, I mounted to the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span> +<i>paradis</i> to take a last look down upon the splendid scene, and +made my exit. I should be quite content never to go to such a +ball again, though it was by far the most splendid scene of the +kind I ever saw. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +PLACE LOUIS XV.—PANORAMIC VIEW OF PARIS—A LITERARY +CLUB DINNER—THE GUESTS—THE PRESIDENT—THE EXILED +POLES, ETC.</p> + +<p>I have spent the day in a long stroll. The wind blew warm +and delicious from the south this morning, and the temptation to +abandon lessons and lectures was irresistible. Taking the <i>Arc +de l'Etoile</i> as my extreme point I yielded to all the leisurely hinderances +of shop-windows, beggars, book-stalls, and views by the +way. Among the specimen-cards in an engraver's window I was +amused at finding, in the latest Parisian fashion, "<span class="smcap">Hussein-Pacha</span>, +<i>Dey d'Algiers</i>."</p> + +<p>These delightful Tuileries! We rambled through them (I had +met a friend and countryman, and enticed him into my idle plans +for the day), and amused ourselves with the never-failing beauty +and grace of the French children for an hour. On the inner +terrace we stopped to look at the beautiful hotel of Prince Polignac, +facing the Tuileries, on the opposite bank. By the side of +this exquisite little model of a palace stands the superb commencement +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span> +of Napoleon's ministerial hotel, breathing of his +glorious conception in every line of its ruins. It is astonishing +what a godlike impress that man left upon all he touched.</p> + +<p>Every third or fourth child in the gardens was dressed in the +full uniform of the National Guard—helmet, sword, epaulets, and +all. They are ludicrous little caricatures, of course, but it inoculates +them with love of the corps, and it would be better if that +were synonymous with a love of liberal principals. The <i>Garde +Nationale</i> are supposed to be more than half "Carlists" at this +moment.</p> + +<p>We passed out by the guarded gate of the Tuileries to the +<i>Place Louis XV.</i> This square is a most beautiful spot, as a +centre of unequalled views, and yet a piece of earth so foully +polluted with human blood probably does not exist on the face of +the globe. It divides the Tuileries from the <i>Champs Elysées</i>, +and ranges of course, in the long broad avenue of two miles, +stretching between the king's palace and the <i>Arc de l'Etoile</i>. +It is but a list of names to write down the particular objects to +be seen in such a view, but it commands, at the extremities of +its radii, the most princely edifices, seen hence with the most advantageous +foregrounds of space and avenue, and softened by +distance into the misty and unbroken surface of engraving. The +king's palace is on one hand, Napoleon's Arch at a distance of +nearly two miles on the other, Prince Talleyrand's regal dwelling +behind, with the church of Madelaine seen through the <i>Rue Royale</i>, +while before you, to the south, lies a picture of profuse splendor: +the broad Seine, spanned by bridges that are the admiration of +Europe, and crowded by specimens of architectural magnificence; +the Chamber of Deputies; and the <i>Palais Bourbon</i>, approached +by the <i>Pont Louis XVI.</i> with its gigantic statues and simple +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</a></span> +majesty of structure; and, rising over all, the grand dome of the +"<i>Invalides</i>," which Napoleon gilded, to divert the minds of his +subjects from his lost battle, and which Peter the Great admired +more than all Paris beside. What a spot for a man to stand +upon, with but one bosom to feel and one tongue to express his +wonder!</p> + +<p>And yet, of what, that should make a spot of earth sink to +perdition, has it not been the theatre? Here were beheaded the +unfortunate Louis XVI.—his wife, Marie Antoinette—his kinsman, +Philip duke of Orleans, and his sister Elizabeth; and here +were guillotined the intrepid Charlotte Corday, the deputy Brissot, +and twenty of his colleagues, and all the victims of the revolution +of 1793, to the amount of two thousand eight hundred; and here +Robespierre and his cursed crew met at last with their insufficient +retribution; and, as if it were destined to be the very blood-spot +of the earth, here the fireworks, which were celebrating the marriage +of the same Louis that was afterward brought hither to the +scaffold, exploded, and killed fourteen hundred persons. It has +been the scene, also, of several minor tragedies not worth mentioning +in such a connexion. Were I a Bourbon, and as unpopular +as King Philippe I. at this moment, the view of the Place +Louis XV. from my palace windows would very much disturb the +beauty of the perspective. Without an <i>equivoque</i>, I should look +with a very ominous dissatisfaction on the "Elysian fields" that +lie beyond.</p> + +<p>We loitered slowly on to the <i>Barrier Neuilly</i>, just outside of +which, and right before the city gates, stands the Triumphal Arch. +It has the stamp of Napoleon—simple grandeur. The broad +avenue from the Tuileries swells slowly up to it for two miles, and +the view of Paris at its foot, even, is superb. We ascended to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span> +the unfinished roof, a hundred and thirty-five feet from the +ground, and saw the whole of the mighty capital of France at a +<i>coup d'œil</i>—churches, palaces, gardens; buildings heaped upon +buildings clear over the edge of the horizon, where the spires of +the city in which you stand are scarcely visible for the distance.</p> + +<p>I dined, a short time since, with the editors of the <i>Revue +Encyclopedique</i> at their monthly reunion. This is a sort of club +dinner, to which the eminent contributors of the review invite +once a month all the strangers of distinction who happen to be in +Paris. I owed my invitation probably to the circumstance of my +living with Dr. Howe, who is considered the organ of American +principles here, and whose force of character has given him a +degree of respect and prominence not often attained by foreigners. +It was the most remarkable party, by far, that I had ever seen. +There were nearly a hundred guests, twenty or thirty of whom +were distinguished Poles, lately arrived from Warsaw. Generals +Romarino and Langermann were placed beside the president, and +another general, whose name is as difficult to remember as his +face is to forget, and who is famous for having been the last on +the field, sat next to the head seat. Near him were General +Bernard and Dr. Bowring, with Sir Sidney Smith (covered with +orders, from every quarter of the world), and the president of +Colombia. After the usual courses of a French dinner, the president, +Mons. Julien, a venerable man with snow-white hair, addressed +the company. He expressed his pleasure at the meeting, +with the usual courtesies of welcome, and in the fervent manner +of the old school of French politeness; and then pausing a little, +and lowering his voice, with a very touching cadence, he looked +around to the Poles, and began to speak of their country. Every +movement was instantly hushed about the table—the guests +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span> +leaned forward, some of them half rising in their earnestness to +hear; the old man's voice trembled, and sunk lower; the Poles +dropped their heads upon their bosoms, and the whole company +were strongly affected. His manner suddenly changed at this +moment, in a degree that would have seemed too dramatic, if the +strong excitement had not sustained him. He spoke indignantly +of the Russian barbarity toward Poland—assured the exiles of +the strong sympathy felt by the great mass of the French people +in their cause, and expressed his confident belief that the struggle +was not yet done, and the time was near when, with France at +her back, Poland would rise and be free. He closed, amid +tumultuous acclamation, and all the Poles near him kissed the old +man, after the French manner, upon both his cheeks.</p> + +<p>This speech was followed by several others, much to the same +effect. Dr. Bowring replied handsomely, in French, to some +compliment paid to his efforts on the "question of reform," in +England. <i>Cesar Moreau</i>, the great schemist, and founder of +the <i>Academie d'Industrie</i>, said a few very revolutionary things +quite emphatically, rolling his fine visionary-looking eyes about +as if he saw the "shadows cast before" of coming events; and +then rose a speaker, whom I shall never forget. He was a young +Polish noble, of about nineteen, whose extreme personal beauty +and enthusiastic expression of countenance had particularly arrested +my attention in the drawing-room, before dinner. His +person was slender and graceful—his eye and mouth full of beauty +and fire, and his manner had a quiet native superiority, that +would have distinguished him anywhere. He had behaved very +gallantly in the struggle, and some allusion had been made to him +in one of the addresses. He rose modestly, and half unwillingly, +and acknowledged the kind wishes for his country in language of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span> +great elegance. He then went on to speak of the misfortunes of +Poland, and soon warmed into eloquence of the most vivid earnestness +and power. I never was more moved by a speaker—he +seemed perfectly unconscious of everything but the recollections +of his subject. His eyes swam with tears and flashed with +indignation alternately, and his refined, spirited mouth assumed a +play of varied expression, which, could it have been arrested, +would have made a sculptor immortal. I can hardly write extravagantly +of him, for all present were as much excited as myself. +One ceases to wonder at the desperate character of the attempt +to redeem the liberty of a land when he sees such specimens of +its people. I have seen hundreds of Poles, of all classes, in Paris, +and I have not yet met with a face of even common dulness +among them.</p> + +<p>You have seen by the papers, I presume, that a body of several +thousand Poles fled from Warsaw, after the defeat, and took +refuge in the northern forests of Prussia. They gave up their +arms under an assurance from the king that they should have all +the rights of Prussian subjects. He found it politic afterward to +recall his protection, and ordered them back to Poland. They +refused to go, and were surrounded by a detachment of his army, +and the orders given to fire upon them. The soldiers refused, +and the Poles, taking advantage of the sympathy of the army, +broke through the ranks, and escaped to the forest, where, at the +last news, they were armed with clubs, and determined to defend +themselves to the last. The consequence of a return to Poland +would be, of course, an immediate exile to Siberia. The Polish +committee, American and French, with General Lafayette at +their head, have appropriated a great part of their funds to the +relief of this body, and our countryman, Dr. Howe, has undertaken +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span> +the dangerous and difficult task of carrying it to them. He +left Paris for Brussels, with letters from the Polish generals, and +advices from Lafayette to all Polish committees upon his route, +that they should put all their funds into his hands. He is a gallant +fellow, and will succeed if any one can; but he certainly runs +great hazard. God prosper him! +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XIII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum">THE GAMBLING-HOUSES OF PARIS.</p> + +<p>I accepted, last night, from a French gentleman of high standing, +a polite offer of introduction to one of the exclusive gambling +clubs of Paris. With the understanding, of course, that it was +only as a spectator, my friend, whom I had met at a dinner party, +despatched a note from the table, announcing to the temporary +master of ceremonies his intention of presenting me. We went +at eleven, in full dress. I was surprised at the entrance with the +splendor of the establishment—gilt balustrades, marble staircases, +crowds of servants in full livery, and all the formal announcement +of a court. Passing through several ante-chambers, a +heavy folding-door was thrown open, and we were received by +one of the noblest-looking men I have seen in France—Count +——. I was put immediately at my ease by his dignified and +kind politeness; and after a little conversation in English, which +he spoke fluently, the entrance of some other person left me at +liberty to observe at my leisure. Everything about me had the +impress of the studied taste of high life. The lavish and yet soft +disposition of light, the harmony of color in the rich hangings +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span> +and furniture, the quiet manners and subdued tones of conversation, +the respectful deference of the servants, and the simplicity +of the slight entertainment, would have convinced me, without +my Asmodeus, that I was in no every-day atmosphere. Conversation +proceeded for an hour, while the members came dropping in +from their evening engagements, and a little after twelve a glass +door was thrown open, and we passed from the reception-room +to the spacious suite of apartments intended for play. One or +two of the gentlemen entered the side rooms for billiards and +cards, but the majority closed about the table of hazard in the +central hall. I had never conceived so beautiful an apartment. +It can be described in two words—<i>columns</i> and <i>mirrors</i>. There +was nothing else between the exquisitely-painted ceiling and the +floor. The form was circular, and the wall was laid with glass, +interrupted only with pairs of Corinthian pillars, with their rich +capitals reflected and re-reflected innumerably. It seemed like +a hall of colonnades of illimitable extent—the multiplication of +the mirrors into each other was so endless and illusive. I felt an +unconquerable disposition to abandon myself to a waking revery +of pleasure; and as soon as the attention of the company was perfectly +engrossed by the silent occupation before them, I sank +upon a sofa, and gave my senses up for a while to the fascination +of the scene. My eye was intoxicated. As far as my sight could +penetrate, stretched apparently interminable halls, carpeted with +crimson, and studded with graceful columns and groups of courtly +figures, forming altogether, with its extent and beauty, and in the +subdued and skilfully-managed light, a picture that, if real, would +be one of unsurpassable splendor. I quite forgot my curiosity to +see the game. I had merely observed, when my companion reminded +me of the arrival of my own appointed hour for departure +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span> +that, whatever was lost or won, the rustling bills were passed +from one to the other with a quiet and imperturbable politeness, +that betrayed no sign either of chagrin or triumph; though, from +the fact that the transfers were in paper only, the stakes must +have been anything but trifling. Refusing a polite invitation to +partake of the supper, always in waiting, we took leave about two +hours after midnight.</p> + +<p>As we drove from the court, my companion suggested to me, +that, since we were out at so late an hour, we might as well +look in for a moment at the more accessible "hells," and, +pulling the <i>cordon</i>, he ordered to "<i>Frascati's</i>." This, you know +of course, is the fashionable place of ruin, and here the heroes of +all novels, and the rakes of all comedies, mar or make their fortunes. +An evening dress, and the look of a gentleman, are the +only required passport. A servant in attendance took our hats +and canes, and we walked in without ceremony. It was a different +scene from the former. Four large rooms, plainly but +handsomely furnished, opened into each other, three of which +were devoted to play, and crowded with players. Elegantly-dressed +women, some of them with high pretensions to French +beauty, sat and stood at the table, watching their own stakes in +the rapid games with fixed attention. The majority of the +gentlemen were English. The table was very large, marked as +usual with the lines and figures of the game, and each person +playing had a small rake in his hand, with which he drew toward +him his proportion of the winnings. I was disappointed at the +first glance in the faces: there was very little of the high-bred +courtesy I had seen at the club-house, but there was no very +striking exhibition of feeling, and I should think, in any but an +extreme case, the whispering silence and general quietness of the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span> +room would repress it. After watching the variations of luck +awhile, however, I selected one or two pretty desperate losers, +and a young Frenchman who was a large winner, and confined +my observation to them only. Among the former was a girl of +about eighteen, a mild, quiet-looking creature, with her hair +curling long on her neck, and hands childishly small and white, +who lost invariably. Two piles of five-franc pieces and a small +heap of gold lay on the table beside her, and I watched her till +she laid the last coin upon the losing color. She bore it very +well. By the eagerness with which, at every turn of the last +card, she closed her hand upon the rake which she held, it was +evident that her hopes were high; but when her last piece was +drawn into the bank, she threw up her little fingers with a playful +desperation, and commenced conversation even gayly with a +gentleman who stood leaning over her chair. The young +Frenchman continued almost as invariably to win. He was +excessively handsome; but there was a cold, profligate, unvarying +hardness of expression in his face, that made me dislike him. +The spectators drew gradually about his chair; and one or two +of the women, who seemed to know him well, selected a color for +him occasionally, or borrowed of him and staked for themselves. +We left him winning. The other players were mostly English, +and very uninteresting in their exhibition of disappointment. +My companion told me that there would be more desperate playing +toward morning, but I had become disgusted with the cold +selfish faces of the scene, and felt no interest sufficient to detain +me. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XIV.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +THE GARDEN OF THE TUILERIES—PRINCE MOSCOWA—SONS OF +NAPOLEON—COOPER AND MORSE—SIR SIDNEY SMITH—FASHIONABLE +WOMEN—CLOSE OF THE DAY—THE FAMOUS EATING-HOUSES—HOW +TO DINE WELL IN PARIS, ETC.</p> + +<p>It is March, and the weather has all the characteristics of +New-England May. The last two or three days have been +deliciously spring-like, clear, sunny, and warm. The gardens of +the Tuileries are crowded. The chairs beneath the terraces are +filled by the old men reading the gazettes, mothers and nurses +watching their children at play, and, at every few steps, circles +of whole families sitting and sewing, or conversing, as unconcernedly +as at home. It strikes a stranger oddly. With the +<i>privacy</i> of American feelings, we cannot conceive of these out-of-door +French habits. What would a Boston or New York mother +think of taking chairs for her whole family, grown-up daughters +and all, in the Mall or upon the Battery, and spending the day in +the very midst of the gayest promenade of the city? People of +all ranks do it here. You will see the powdered, elegant gentleman +of the <i>ancien régime</i>, handing his wife or daughter to a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span> +straw-bottomed chair, with all the air of drawing-room courtesy; +and, begging pardon for the liberty, pull his journal from his +pocket, and sit down to read beside her; or a tottering old man, +leaning upon a stout Swiss servant girl, goes bowing and +apologizing through the crowd, in search of a pleasant neighbor, +or some old compatriot, with whom he may sit and nod away the +hours of sunshine. It is a beautiful custom, positively. The +gardens are like a constant <i>féte</i>. It is a holiday revel, without +design or disappointment. It is a masque, where every one +plays his character unconsciously, and therefore naturally and +well. We get no idea of it at home. We are too industrious a +nation to have idlers enough. It would even pain most of the +people of our country to see so many thousands of all ages and +conditions of life spending day after day in such absolute +uselessness.</p> + +<p>Imagine yourself here, on the fashionable terrace, the promenade, +two days in the week, of all that is distinguished and gay +in Paris. It is a short raised walk, just inside the railings, and +the only part of all these wide and beautiful gardens where a +member of the <i>beau monde</i> is ever to be met. The hour is four, +the day Friday, the weather heavenly. I have just been long +enough in Paris to be an excellent walking dictionary, and I will +tell you who people are. In the first place, all the well-dressed +men you see are English. You will know the French by those +flaring coats, laid clear back on their shoulders, and their +execrable hats and thin legs. Their heads are fresh from the +hair-dresser; their hats are <i>chapeaux de soie</i> or imitation beaver; +they are delicately rouged, and wear very white gloves; and +those who are with ladies, lead, as you observe, a small dog by +a string, or carry it in their arms. No French lady walks out +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span> +without her lap-dog. These slow-paced men you see in brown +mustaches and frogged coats are refugee Poles. The short, +thick, agile-looking man before us is General ——, celebrated +for having been the last to surrender on the last field of that +brief contest. His handsome face is full of resolution, and unlike +the rest of his countrymen, he looks still unsubdued and in good +heart. He walks here every day an hour or two, swinging his +cane round his forefinger, and thinking, apparently of anything +but his defeat. Observe these two young men approaching us. +The short one on the left, with the stiff hair and red mustache, +is <i>Prince Moscowa</i>, the son of Marshal Ney. He is an object of +more than usual interest just now, as the youngest of the new +batch of peers. The expression of his countenance is more bold +than handsome, and indeed he is anything but a carpet knight; a +fact of which he seems, like a man of sense, quite aware. He is +to be seen at the parties standing with his arms folded, leaning +silently against the wall for hours together. His companion is, +I presume to say, quite the handsomest man you ever saw. A +little over six feet, perfectly proportioned, dark silken-brown +hair, slightly curling about his forehead, a soft curling mustache, +and beard just darkening the finest cut mouth in the world, and +an olive complexion, of the most golden richness and clearness—Mr. +—— is called the handsomest man in Europe. What is +more remarkable still, he looks like the most modest man in +Europe, too; though, like most modest <i>looking</i> men, his reputation +for constancy in the gallant world is somewhat slender. +And here comes a fine-looking man, though of a different order +of beauty—a natural son of Napoleon. He is about his father's +height, and has most of his features, though his person and air +must be quite different. You see there Napoleon's beautiful +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span> +mouth and thinly chiselled nose, but I fancy that soft eye is his +mother's. He is said to be one of the most fascinating men in +France. His mother was the Countess Waleski, a lady with +whom the Emperor became acquainted in Poland. It is singular +that Napoleon's talents and love of glory have not descended upon +any of the eight or ten sons whose claims to his paternity are admitted. +And here come two of our countrymen, who are to be +seen constantly together—<i>Cooper</i> and <i>Morse</i>. That is Cooper +with the blue surtout buttoned up to his throat, and his hat over +his eyes. What a contrast between the faces of the two men! +Morse with his kind, open, gentle countenance, the very picture +of goodness and sincerity; and Cooper, dark and corsair-looking, +with his brows down over his eyes, and his strongly lined mouth +fixed in an expression of moodiness and reserve. The two faces, +however, are not equally just to their owners—Morse is all that +he looks to be, but Cooper's features do him decided injustice. +I take a pride in the reputation which this distinguished countryman +of ours has for humanity and generous sympathy. The +distress of the refugee liberals from all countries comes home +especially to Americans, and the untiring liberality of Mr. +Cooper particularly, is a fact of common admission and praise. +It is pleasant to be able to say such things. Morse is taking a +sketch of the Gallery of the Louvre, and he intends copying +some of the best pictures also, to accompany it as an exhibition, +when he returns. Our artists do our country credit abroad. +The feeling of interest in one's country artists and authors +becomes very strong in a foreign land. Every leaf of laurel +awarded to them seems to touch one's own forehead. And, +talking of laurels, here comes <i>Sir Sidney Smith</i>—the short, fat, +old gentleman yonder, with the large aquiline nose and keen eye. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span> +He is one of the few men who ever opposed Napoleon successfully, +and that should distinguish him, even if he had not won by +his numerous merits and achievements the gift of almost every +order in Europe. He is, among other things, of a very +mechanical turn, and is quite crazy just now about a six-wheeled +coach, which he has lately invented, and of which nobody sees +the exact benefit but himself. An invitation to his rooms, to +hear his description of the model, is considered the last new +bore.</p> + +<p>And now for ladies. Whom do you see that looks distinguished? +Scarce one whom you would take positively for a lady, I +venture to presume. These two, with the velvet pelisses and +small satin bonnets, are rather the most genteel-looking people +in the garden. I set them down for ladies of rank, in the first +walk I ever took here; and two who have just passed us, with +the curly lap-dog, I was equally sure were persons of not very +dainty morality. It is precisely <i>au contraire</i>. The velvet +pelisses are gamblers from Frascati's, and the two with the lap-dog +are the Countess N. and her unmarried daughter—two of +the most exclusive specimens of Parisian society. It is very odd—but +if you see a remarkably modest-looking woman in Paris, +you may be sure, as the periphrasis goes, that "she is no better +than she should be." Everything gets <i>travestied</i> in this artificial +society. The general ambition seems to be, to appear that which +one is not. White-haired men cultivate their sparse mustaches, +and dark-haired men shave. Deformed men are successful in +gallantry, where handsome men despair. Ugly women dress and +dance, while beauties mope and are deserted. Modesty looks +brazen, and vice looks timid; and so all through the calendar. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span> +Life in Paris is as pretty a series of astonishment, as an <i>ennuyé</i> +could desire.</p> + +<p>But there goes the palace-bell—five o'clock! The sun is just +disappearing behind the dome of the "Invalides," and the crowd +begins to thin. Look at the atmosphere of the gardens. How +deliciously the twilight mist softens everything. Statues, people, +trees, and the long perspectives down the alleys, all mellowed +into the shadowy indistinctness of fairy-land. The throng is +pressing out at the gates, and the guard, with his bayonet +presented, forbids all re-entrance, for the gardens are cleared at +sundown. The carriages are driving up and dashing away, and +if you stand a moment you will see the most vulgar-looking +people you have met in your promenade, waited for by <i>chasseurs</i>, +and departing with indications of rank in their equipages, which +nature has very positively denied to their persons. And now all +the world dines and dines well. The "<i>chef</i>" stands with his +gold repeater in his hand, waiting for the moment to decide the +fate of the first dish; the <i>garçons</i> at the restaurants have +donned their white aprons, and laid the silver forks upon the +napkins; the pretty women are seated on their thrones in the +saloons, and the interesting hour is here. Where shall we dine? +We will walk toward the Palais Royal, and talk of it as we go +along.</p> + +<p>That man would "deserve well of his country" who should +write a "Paris Guide" for the palate. I would do it myself if I +could elude the immortality it would occasion me. One is compelled +to pioneer his own stomach through the endless <i>cartes</i> of +some twelve eating-houses, all famous, before he half knows +whether he is dining well or ill. I had eaten for a week at +Very's, for instance, before I discovered that, since Pelham's +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span> +day, that gentleman's reputation has gone down. He is a subject +for history at present. I was misled also by an elderly gentleman +at Havre, who advised me to eat at <i>Grignon's</i>, in the <i>Passage +Vivienne</i>. Not liking my first <i>coquilles aux huitres</i>, I made +some private inquiries, and found that his <i>chef</i> had deserted him +about the time of Napoleon's return from Elba. A stranger +gets misguided in this way. And then, if by accident you hit +upon the right house, you may be eating for a month before you +find out the peculiar triumphs which have stamped its celebrity. +No mortal man can excel in everything, and it is as true of +cooking as it is of poetry. The "<i>Rochers de Cancale</i>," is now +the first eating-house in Paris, yet they only excel in fish. The +"<i>Trois Fréres Provençaux</i>," have a high reputation, yet their +<i>cotelettes provençales</i> are the only dish which you can not get +equally well elsewhere. A good practice is to walk about in the +Palais Royal for an hour before dinner, and select a master. +You will know a <i>gourmet</i> easily—a man slightly past the prime +of life, with a nose just getting its incipient blush, a remarkably +loose, voluminous white cravat, and a corpulence more of suspicion +than fact. Follow him to his restaurant, and give the <i>garçon</i> +a private order to serve you with the same dishes as the <i>bald</i> +gentleman. (I have observed that dainty livers universally lose +their hair early.) I have been in the wake of such a person now +for a week or more, and I never lived, comparatively, before. +Here we are, however, at the "<i>Trois Fréres</i>," and there goes +my unconscious model deliberately up stairs. We'll follow him, +and double his orders, and if we dine not well, there is no eating +in France. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XV.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +HOPITAL DES INVALIDES—MONUMENT OF TURENNE—MARSHAL +NEY—A POLISH LADY IN UNIFORM—FEMALES MASQUERADING +IN MEN'S CLOTHES—DUEL BETWEEN THE SONS OF GEORGE IV. +AND OF BONAPARTE—GAMBLING PROPENSITIES OF THE FRENCH.</p> + +<p>The weather still holds warm and bright, as it has been all the +month, and the scarcely "premature white pantaloons" appeared +yesterday in the Tuileries. The ladies loosen their +"boas;" the silken greyhounds of Italy follow their mistresses +without shivering; the birds are noisy and gay in the clipped +trees—who that had known February in New England would +recognize him by such a description?</p> + +<p>I took an indolent stroll with a friend this morning to the +<i>Hopital des Invalides</i>, on the other side of the river. Here, not +long since, were twenty-five thousand old soldiers. There are +but five thousand now remaining, most of them having been dismissed +by the Bourbons. It is of course one of the most interesting +spots in France; and of a pleasant day there is no lounge +where a traveller can find so much matter for thought, with so +much pleasure to the eye. We crossed over by the <i>Pons Louis</i> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span> +<i>Quinze</i>, and kept along the bank of the river to the esplanade in +front of the hospital. There was never a softer sunshine, or a +more deliciously-tempered air; and we found the old veterans +out of doors, sitting upon the cannon along the rampart, or halting +about, with their wooden legs, under the trees, the pictures +of comfort and contentment. The building itself, as you know, +is very celebrated for its grandeur. The dome of the <i>Invalides</i> +rises upon the eye from all parts of Paris, a perfect model of +proportion and beauty. It was this which Bonaparte ordered to +be gilded, to divert the people from thinking too much upon his +defeat. It is a living monument of the most touching recollections +of him now. Positively the blood mounts, and the tears +spring to the eyes of the spectator, as he stands a moment, and +remembers what is around him in that place. To see his maimed +followers, creeping along the corridors, clothed and fed by the +bounty he left, in a place devoted to his soldiers alone, their old +comrades about them, and all glowing with one feeling of devotion +to his memory, to speak to them, to hear their stories of—"<i>L'Empereur</i>" +it is better than a thousand histories to make +one <i>feel</i> the glory of "the great captain." The interior of +the dome is vast, and of a splendid style of architecture, +and out from one of its sides extends a superb chapel, hung +all round with the tattered flags taken in <i>his</i> victories alone. +Here the veterans of his army worship, beneath the banners for +which they fought. It is hardly appropriate, I should think, to +adorn thus the church of a "religion of peace;" but while there, +at least, we feel strangely certain, somehow, that it is right and +fitting; and when, as we stood deciphering the half-effaced insignia +of the different nations, the organ began to peal, there certainly +was anything but a jar between this grand music, consecrated +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span> +as it is by religious associations, and the thrilling and +uncontrolled sense in my bosom of Napoleon's glory. The +anthem seemed to <i>him</i>!</p> + +<p>The majestic sounds were still rolling through the dome when +we came to the monument of <i>Turenne</i>. Here is another comment +on the character of Bonaparte's mind. There was once a +long inscription on this monument, describing, in the fulsome +style of an epitaph, the deeds and virtues of the distinguished +man who is buried beneath. The emperor removed and replaced +it by a small slab, graven with the single word <span class="smcap">Turenne</span>. You +acknowledge the sublimity of this as you stand before it. Everything +is in keeping with its grandeur. The lofty proportions +and magnificence of the dome, the tangible trophies of glory, +and the maimed and venerable figures, kneeling about the altar, +of those who helped to win them, are circumstances that make +that eloquent word as articulate as if it were spoken in thunder. +You feel that Napoleon's spirit might walk the place, and read +the hearts of those who should visit it, unoffended.</p> + +<p>We passed on to the library. It is ornamented with the portraits +of all the generals of Napoleon, save one. <i>Ney's</i> is not +there. It should, and will be, at some time or other, doubtless; +but I wonder that, in a day when such universal justice is done to +the memory of this brave man, so obvious and it would seem +necessary a reparation should not be demanded. Great efforts +have been making of late to get his sentence publicly reversed, +but, though they deny his widow and children nothing else, this +melancholy and unavailing satisfaction is refused them. Ney's +memory little needs it, it is true. No visiter looks about the +gallery at the <i>Invalides</i> without commenting feelingly on the +omission of his portrait; and probably no one of the scarred +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span> +veterans who sit there, reading their own deeds in history, looks +round on the faces of the old leaders of whom it tells, without +remembering and feeling that the brightest name upon the page +is wanting. I would rather, if I were his son, have the regret +than the justice.</p> + +<p>We left the hospital, as all must leave it, full of Napoleon. +France is full of him. The monuments and the hearts of the +people, all are alive with his name and glory. Disapprove and +detract from his reputation as you will (and as powerful minds, +with apparent justice, <i>have</i> done), as long as human nature is +what it is, as long as power and loftiness of heart hold their present +empire over the imagination, Napoleon is immortal.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>The promenading world is amused just now with the daily appearance +in the Tuileries of a Polish lady, dressed in the Polonaise +undress uniform, decorated with the order of distinction +given for bravery at Warsaw. She is not very beautiful, but she +wears the handsome military cap quite gallantly; and her small +feet and full chest are truly captivating in boots and a frogged +coat. It is an exceedingly spirited, well-charactered face, with +a complexion slightly roughened by her new habits. Her hair is +cut short, and brushed up at the sides, and she certainly handles +the little switch she carries with an air which entirely forbids +insult. She is ordinarily seen lounging very idly along between +two polytechnic boys, who seem to have a great admiration for +her. I observe that the Polish generals touch their hats very +respectfully as she passes, but as yet I have been unable to come +at her precise history.</p> + +<p>By the by, masquerading in men's clothes is not at all uncommon +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span> +in Paris. I have sometimes seen two or three women at a +time dining at the restaurants in this way. No notice is taken of +it, and the lady is perfectly safe from insult, though every one +that passes may penetrate the disguise. It is common at the +theatres, and at the public balls still more so. I have noticed +repeatedly at the weekly <i>soirées</i> of a lady of high respectability, +two sisters in boy's clothes, who play duets upon the piano for the +dance. The lady of the house told me they preferred it, to avoid +attention, and the awkwardness of position natural to their vocation, +in society. The tailors tell me it is quite a branch of trade—making +suits for ladies of a similar taste. There is one +particularly, in the <i>Rue Richelieu</i>, who is famed for his nice fits +to the female figure. It is remarkable, however, that instead of +wearing their new honors meekly, there is no such impertinent +puppy as a <i>femme deguisée</i>. I saw one in a <i>café</i>, not long ago, +rap the <i>garçon</i> very smartly over the fingers with a rattan, for +overrunning her cup; and they are sure to shoulder you off the +sidewalk, if you are at all in the way. I have seen several +amusing instances of a probable quarrel in the street, ending in a +gay bow, and a "<i>pardon, madame!</i>"</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>There has been a great deal of excitement here for the past +two days on the result of a gambling quarrel. An English gentleman, +a fine, gay, noble-looking fellow, whom I have often met +at parties, and admired for his strikingly winning and elegant +manners, lost fifty thousand francs on Thursday night at cards. +The Count St. Leon was the winner. It appears that Hesse, the +Englishman, had drank freely before sitting down to play, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span> +the next morning his friend, who had bet upon the game, persuaded +him that there had been some unfairness on the part of +his opponent. He refused consequently to pay the debt, and +charged the Frenchman, and another gentleman who backed +him, with deception. The result was a couple of challenges, +which were both accepted. Hesse fought the Count on Friday, +and was dangerously wounded at the first fire. His friend +fought on Saturday (yesterday), and is reported to be mortally +wounded. It is a little remarkable that both the <i>losers</i> are shot, +and still more remarkable, that Hesse should have been, as he +was known to be, a natural son of George the Fourth; and +Count Leon, as was equally well known, a natural son of Bonaparte!</p> + +<p>Everybody gambles in Paris. I had no idea that so desperate +a vice could be so universal, and so little deprecated as it is. +The gambling-houses are as open and as ordinary a resort as any +public promenade, and one may haunt them with as little danger +to his reputation. To dine from six to eight, gamble from eight +to ten, go to a ball, and return to gamble till morning, is as common +a routine for married men and bachelors both, as a system +of dress, and as little commented on. I sometimes stroll into +the card-room at a party, but I can not get accustomed to the +sight of ladies losing or winning money. Almost all Frenchwomen, +who are too old to dance, play at parties; and their +daughters and husbands watch the game as unconcernedly as if +they were turning over prints. I have seen English ladies play, +but with less philosophy. They do not lose their money gayly. +It is a great spoiler of beauty, the vexation of a loss. I think I +never could respect a woman upon whose face I had remarked +the shade I often see at an English card-table. It is certain that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span> +vice walks abroad in Paris, in many a shape that would seem, to +an American eye, to show the fiend too openly. I am not over +particular, I think, but I would as soon expose a child to the +plague as give either son or daughter a free rein for a year in +Paris. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XVI.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +THE CHOLERA—A MASQUE BALL—THE GAY WORLD—MOBS—VISIT +TO THE HOTEL DIEU.</p> + +<p>You see by the papers, I presume, the official accounts of the +cholera in Paris. It seems very terrible to you, no doubt, at +your distance from the scene, and truly it is terrible enough, if +one could realize it, anywhere; but many here do not trouble +themselves about it, and you might be in this metropolis a month, +and if you observed the people only, and frequented only the +places of amusement, and the public promenades, you might +never suspect its existence. The weather is June-like, deliciously +warm and bright; the trees are just in the tender green +of the new buds, and the public gardens are thronged all day +with thousands of the gay and idle, sitting under the trees in +groups, laughing and amusing themselves, as if there were no +plague in the air, though hundreds die every day. The churches +are all hung in black; there is a constant succession of funerals; +and you cross the biers and hand-barrows of the sick, hurrying to +the hospitals at every turn, in every quarter of the city. It is +very hard to realize such things, and, it would seem, very hard +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span> +even to treat them seriously. I was at a masque ball at the +<i>Théatre des Varietés</i>, a night or two since, at the celebration of +the <i>Mi-Careme</i>, or half-Lent. There were some two thousand +people, I should think, in fancy dresses, most of them grotesque +and satirical, and the ball was kept up till seven in the morning, +with all the extravagant gaiety, noise, and fun, with which the +French people manage such matters. There was a <i>cholera-waltz</i>, +and a <i>cholera-galopade</i>, and one man, immensely tall, dressed as +a personification of the <i>Cholera</i> itself, with skeleton armor, +bloodshot eyes, and other horrible appurtenances of a walking +pestilence. It was the burden of all the jokes, and all the cries +of the hawkers, and all the conversation; and yet, probably, +nineteen out of twenty of those present lived in the quarters most +ravaged by the disease, and many of them had seen it face to +face, and knew perfectly its deadly character!</p> + +<p>As yet, with few exceptions, the higher classes of society have +escaped. It seems to depend very much on the manner in +which people live, and the poor have been struck in every quarter, +often at the very next door to luxury. A friend told me this +morning, that the porter of a large and fashionable hotel, in +which he lives, had been taken to the hospital; and there have +been one or two cases in the airy quarter of St. Germain, in the +same street with Mr. Cooper, and nearly opposite. Several +physicians and medical students have died too, but the majority +of these live with the narrowest economy, and in the parts of the +city the most liable to impure effluvia. The balls go on still in +the gay world; and I presume they <i>would</i> go on if there were +only musicians enough left to make an orchestra, or fashionists +to compose a quadrille. I was walking home very late from a +party the night before last, with a captain in the English army. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span> +The gray of the morning was just stealing into the sky; and +after a stopping a moment in the <i>Place Vendome</i>, to look at the +column, stretching up apparently unto the very stars, we bade +good morning, and parted. He had hardly left me, he said, +when he heard a frightful scream from one of the houses in the +<i>Rue St. Honoré</i>, and thinking there might be some violence +going on, he rang at the gate and entered, mounting the first +staircase that presented. A woman had just opened a door, and +fallen on the broad stair at the top, and was writhing in great +agony. The people of the house collected immediately; but the +moment my friend pronounced the word cholera, there was a +general dispersion, and he was left alone with the patient. He +took her in his arms, and carried her to a coach-stand, without +assistance, and, driving to the <i>Hotel Dieu</i>, left her with the +<i>Sœurs de Charité</i>. She has since died.</p> + +<p>As if one plague were not enough, the city is still alive in the +distant faubourgs with revolts. Last night, the <i>rappel</i> was beat +all over the town, the national guard called to arms, and marched +to the <i>Porte St. Denis</i>, and the different quarters where the +mobs were collected.</p> + +<p>Many suppose there is no cholera except such as is produced +by poison; and the <i>Hotel Dieu</i>, and the other hospitals, are besieged +daily by the infuriated mob, who swear vengeance against +the government for all the mortality they witness.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I have just returned from a visit to the <i>Hotel Dieu</i>—the hospital +for the cholera. Impelled by a powerful motive, which it is +not now necessary to explain, I had previously made several attempts +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span> +to gain admission in vain; but yesterday I fell in fortunately +with an English physician, who told me I could pass with +a doctor's diploma, which he offered to borrow for me of some +medical friend. He called by appointment at seven this morning, +to accompany me on my visit.</p> + +<p>It was like one of our loveliest mornings in June—an inspiriting, +sunny, balmy day, all softness and beauty—and we crossed +the Tuileries by one of its superb avenues, and kept down the +bank of the river to the island. With the errand on which we +were bound in our minds, it was impossible not to be struck very +forcibly with our own exquisite enjoyment of life. I am sure I +never felt my veins fuller of the pleasure of health and motion; +and I never saw a day when everything about me seemed better +worth living for. The splendid palace of the Louvre, with its +long <i>façade</i> of nearly half a mile, lay in the mellowest sunshine +on our left; the lively river, covered with boats, and spanned +with its magnificent and crowded bridges on our right; the view +of the island, with its massive old structures below, and the fine +gray towers of the church of <i>Notre Dame</i> rising, dark and +gloomy, in the distance, rendered it difficult to realize anything +but life and pleasure. That under those very towers, which +added so much to the beauty of the scene, there lay a thousand +and more of poor wretches dying of a plague, was a thought my +mind would not retain a moment.</p> + +<p>Half an hour's walk brought us to the <i>Place Notre Dame</i>, on +one side of which, next this celebrated church, stands the hospital. +My friend entered, leaving me to wait till he had found +an acquaintance of whom he could borrow a diploma. A hearse +was standing at the door of the church, and I went in for a moment. +A few mourners, with the appearance of extreme poverty, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span> +were kneeling round a coffin at one of the side altars; and a +solitary priest, with an attendant boy, was mumbling the prayers +for the dead. As I came out, another hearse drove up, with a +rough coffin, scantily covered with a pall, and followed by one +poor old man. They hurried in, and I strolled around the +square. Fifteen or twenty water-carriers were filling their +buckets at the fountain opposite, singing and laughing; and at +the same moment four different litters crossed toward the hospital, +each with its two or three followers, women and children, +friends or relatives of the sick, accompanying them to the door, +where they parted from them, most probably for ever. The +litters were set down a moment before ascending the steps; the +crowd pressed around and lifted the coarse curtains; farewells +were exchanged, and the sick alone passed in. I did not see any +great demonstration of feeling in the particular cases that were +before me; but I can conceive, in the almost deadly certainty of +this disease, that these hasty partings at the door of the hospital +might often be scenes of unsurpassed suffering and distress.</p> + +<p>I waited, perhaps, ten minutes more. In the whole time that +I had been there, twelve litters, bearing the sick, had entered the +<i>Hotel Dieu</i>. As I exhibited the borrowed diploma, the thirteenth +arrived, and with it a young man, whose violent and uncontrolled +grief worked so far on the soldier at the door, that he allowed +him to pass. I followed the bearers to the yard, interested exceedingly +to observe the first treatment and manner of reception. +They wound slowly up the stone staircase to the upper story, and +entered the female department—a long low room, containing +nearly a hundred beds, placed in alleys scarce two feet from each +other. Nearly all were occupied, and those which were empty +my friend told me were vacated by deaths yesterday. They set +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span> +down the litter by the side of a narrow cot, with coarse but +clean sheets, and a <i>Sœur de Charité</i>, with a white cap, and a +cross at her girdle, came and took off the canopy. A young woman, +of apparently twenty-five, was beneath, absolutely convulsed +with agony. Her eyes were started from their sockets, +her mouth foamed, and her face was of a frightful, livid purple. +I never saw so horrible a sight. She had been taken in perfect +health only three hours before, but her features looked to me +marked with a year of pain. The first attempt to lift her produced +violent vomiting, and I thought she must die instantly. +They covered her up in bed, and leaving the man who came with +her hanging over her with the moan of one deprived of his +senses, they went to receive others, who were entering in the +same manner. I inquired of my companion how soon she would +be attended to. He said, "possibly in an hour, as the physician +was just commencing his rounds." An hour after this I passed +the bed of this poor woman, and she had not yet been visited. +Her husband answered my question with a choking voice and a +flood of tears.</p> + +<p>I passed down the ward, and found nineteen or twenty in the +last agonies of death. They lay perfectly still, and seemed benumbed. +I felt the limbs of several, and found them quite cold. +The stomach only had a little warmth. Now and then a half +groan escaped those who seemed the strongest; but with the +exception of the universally open mouth and upturned ghastly +eye, there were no signs of much suffering. I found two who +must have been dead half an hour, undiscovered by the attendants. +One of them was an old woman, nearly gray, with a very +bad expression of face, who was perfectly cold—lips, limbs, body, +and all. The other was younger, and looked as if she had died +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span> +in pain. Her eyes appeared as if they had been forced half out +of the sockets, and her skin was of the most livid and deathly +purple. The woman in the next bed told me she had died since +the <i>Sœur de Charité</i> had been there. It is horrible to think +how these poor creatures may suffer in the very midst of the provisions +that are made professedly for their relief. I asked why +a simple prescription of treatment might not be drawn up the +physicians, and administered by the numerous medical students +who were in Paris, that as few as possible might suffer from delay. +"Because," said my companion, "the chief physicians +must do everything <i>personally</i>, to study the complaint." And +so, I verily believe, more human lives are sacrificed in waiting +for experiments, than ever will be saved by the results. My +blood boiled from the beginning to the end of this melancholy +visit.</p> + +<p>I wandered about alone among the beds till my heart was sick, +and I could bear it no longer; and then rejoined my friend, who +was in the train of one of the physicians, making the rounds. +One would think a dying person should be treated with kindness. +I never saw a rougher or more heartless manner than that of the +celebrated Dr. ——, at the bedsides of these poor creatures. A +harsh question, a rude pulling open of the mouth, to look at the +tongue, a sentence or two of unsuppressed comments to the students +on the progress of the disease, and the train passed on. +If discouragement and despair are not medicines, I should think +the visits of such physicians were of little avail. The wretched +sufferers turned away their heads after he had gone, in every +instance that I saw, with an expression of visibly increased +distress. Several of them refused to answer his questions altogether. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</a></span></p> + +<p>On reaching the bottom of the <i>Salle St. Monique</i>, one of the +male wards, I heard loud voices and laughter. I had noticed +much more groaning and complaining in passing among the men, +and the horrible discordance struck me as something infernal. +It proceeded from one of the sides to which the patients had +been removed who were recovering. The most successful treatment +has been found to be <i>punch</i>, very strong, with but little +acid, and being permitted to drink as much as they would, they +had become partially intoxicated. It was a fiendish sight, positively. +They were sitting up, and reaching from one bed to the +other, and with their still pallid faces and blue lips, and the hospital +dress of white, they looked like so many carousing corpses. +I turned away from them in horror.</p> + +<p>I was stopped in the door-way by a litter entering with a sick +woman. They set her down in the main passage between the +beds, and left her a moment to find a place for her. She +seemed to have an interval of pain, and rose up on one hand, and +looked about her very earnestly. I followed the direction of her +eyes, and could easily imagine her sensations. Twenty or thirty +death-like faces were turned toward her from the different beds, +and the groans of the dying and the distressed came from every +side. She was without a friend whom she knew, sick of a mortal +disease, and abandoned to the mercy of those whose kindness is +mercenary and habitual, and of course without sympathy or feeling. +Was it not enough alone, if she had been far less ill, to imbitter +the very fountains of life, and kill her with mere fright and +horror? She sank down upon the litter again, and drew her +shawl over her head. I had seen enough of suffering, and I left +the place.</p> + +<p>On reaching the lower staircase, my friend proposed to me to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">129</a></span> +look into the <i>dead-room</i>. We descended to a large dark apartment +below the street-level, lighted by a lamp fixed to the wall. +Sixty or seventy bodies lay on the floor, some of them quite uncovered, +and some wrapped in mats. I could not see distinctly +enough by the dim light, to judge of their discoloration. They +appeared mostly old and emaciated.</p> + +<p>I can not describe the sensation of relief with which I breathed +the free air once more. I had no fear of the cholera, but the +suffering and misery I had seen, oppressed and half smothered +me. Every one who has walked through an hospital, will remember +how natural it is to subdue the breath, and close the nostrils +to the smells of medicine and the close air. The fact, too, that +the question of contagion is still disputed, though I fully believe +the cholera <i>not</i> to be contagious, might have had some effect. +My breast heaved, however, as if a weight had risen from my +lungs, and I walked home, blessing God for health, with undissembled +gratitude.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>P. S.—I began this account of my visit to the <i>Hotel Dieu</i> yesterday. +As I am perfectly well this morning, I think the point +of non-contagion, in my own case at least, is clear. I breathed +the same air with the dying and the diseased for two hours, and +felt of nearly a hundred to be satisfied of the curious phenomena +of the vital heat. Perhaps an experiment of this sort in a man +not professionally a physician, may be considered rash or useless; +and I would not willingly be thought to have done it from any +puerile curiosity. I have been interested in such subjects always; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</a></span> +and I considered the fact that the king's sons had been permitted +to visit the hospital, a sufficient assurance that the physicians +were seriously convinced there could be no possible danger. If I +need an apology, it may be found in this. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XVII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +LEGION OF HONOR—PRESENTATION TO THE KING—THE THRONE +OF FRANCE—THE QUEEN AND THE PRINCESSES—COUNTESS GUICCIOLI—THE +LATE DUEL—THE SEASON OF CARNIVAL—ANOTHER +FANCY BALL—DIFFERENCE BETWEEN PRIVATE AND PUBLIC +MASKERS—STREET MASKING—BALL AT THE PALACE—THE YOUNG +DUKE OF ORLEANS—PRINCESS CHRISTINE—LORD HARRY VANE—HEIR +OF CARDINAL RICHELIEU—VILLIERS—BERNARD, FABVIER, +COUSIN, AND OTHER DISTINGUISHED CHARACTERS—THE SUPPER—THE +GLASS VERANDAH, ETC.</p> + +<p>As I was getting out of a <i>fiacre</i> this morning on the Boulevard, +I observed that the driver had the cross of the legion of honor, +worn very modestly under his coat. On taking a second look at +his face, I was struck with its soldier-like, honest expression; +and with the fear that I might imply a doubt by a question, I +simply observed, that he probably received it from Napoleon. +He drew himself up a little as he assented, and with half a smile +pulled the coarse cape of his coat across his bosom. It was done +evidently with a mixed feeling of pride and a dislike of ostentation, +which showed the nurture of Napoleon. It is astonishing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span> +how superior every being seems to have become that served +under him. Wherever you find an old soldier of the "emperor," +as they delight to call him, you find a noble, brave, unpretending +man. On mentioning this circumstance to a friend, he informed +me, that it was possibly a man who was well known, from rather +a tragical circumstance. He had driven a gentleman to a party +one night, who was dissatisfied with him, for some reason or +other, and abused him very grossly. The <i>cocher</i> the next morning +sent him a challenge; and, as the cross of honor levels all +distinctions, he was compelled to fight him, and was shot dead at +the first fire.</p> + +<p>Honors of this sort must be a very great incentive. They are +worn very proudly in France. You see men of all classes, with +the striped riband in their button-hole, marking them as the +heroes of the three days of July. The Poles and the French +and English, who fought well at Warsaw, wear also a badge; +and it certainly produces a feeling of respect as one passes them +in the street. There are several very young men, lads really, +who are wandering about Paris, with the latter distinction on +their breasts, and every indication that it is all they have +brought away from their unhappy country. The Poles are coming +in now from every quarter. I meet occasionally in society +the celebrated Polish countess, who lost her property and was +compelled to flee, for her devotion to the cause. Louis Philippe +has formed a regiment of the refugees, and sent them to Algiers. +He allows no liberalists to remain in Paris, if he can help it. +The Spaniards and Italians, particularly, are ordered off to +Tours, and other provincial towns, the instant they become pensioners +upon the government. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span></p> + +<p>I was presented last night, with Mr. Carr and Mr. Ritchie, +two of our countrymen, to the king. We were very naturally +prepared for an embarrassing ceremony—an expectation which +was not lessened, in my case, by the necessity of a laced coat, +breeches, and sword. We drove into the court of the Tuileries, +as the palace clock struck nine, in the costume of courtiers of +the time of Louis the Twelfth, very anxious about the tenacity +of our knee-buckles, and not at all satisfied as to the justice done +to our unaccustomed proportions by the tailor. To say nothing +of my looks, I am sure I should have <i>felt</i> much more like a +gentleman in my <i>costume bourgeois</i>. By the time we had been +passed through the hands of all the chamberlains, however, and +walked through all the preparatory halls and drawing-rooms, each +with its complement of gentlemen in waiting, dressed like ourselves +in lace and small-clothes, I became more reconciled to +myself, and began to <i>feel</i> that I might possibly have looked out +of place in my ordinary dress. The atmosphere of a court is +very contagious in this particular.</p> + +<p>After being sufficiently astonished with long rooms, frescoes, +and guardsmen apparently seven or eight feet high, (the tallest +men I ever saw, standing with halberds at the doors), we were +introduced into the <i>Salle du Tróne</i>—a large hall lined with +crimson velvet throughout, with the throne in the centre of one +of the sides. Some half dozen gentlemen were standing about +the fire, conversing very familiarly, among whom was the British +ambassador, Lord Grenville, and the Brazilian minister, both of +whom I had met before. The king was not there. The Swedish +minister, a noble-looking man, with snow-white hair, was the +only other official person present, each of the ministers having +come to present one or two of his countrymen. The king +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span> +entered in a few moments, in the simple uniform of the line, and +joined the group at the fire, with the most familiar and cordial +politeness; each minister presenting his countrymen as occasion +offered, certainly with far less ceremony than one sees at most +dinner-parties in America. After talking a few minutes with +Lord Grenville, inquiring the progress of the cholera, he turned +to Mr. Rives, and we were presented. We stood in a little circle +round him, and he conversed with us about America for ten or +fifteen minutes. He inquired from what States we came, and +said he had been as far west as Nashville, Tennessee, and had +often slept in the woods, quite as soundly as he ever did in more +luxurious quarters. He begged pardon of Mr. Carr, who was +from South Carolina, for saying that he had found the southern +taverns not particularly good. He preferred the north. All +this time I was looking out for some accent in the "king's +English." He speaks the language with all the careless correctness +and fluency of a vernacular tongue. We were all +surprised at it. It is <i>American</i> English, however. He has not +a particle of the cockney drawl, half Irish and half Scotch, with +which many Englishmen speak. He must be the most cosmopolite +king that ever reigned. He even said he had been at +Tangiers, the place of Mr. Carr's consulate. After some pleasant +compliments to our country, he passed to the Brazilian minister, +who stood on the other side, leaving us delighted with his +manner; and, probably, in spite of our independence, much more +inclined than before to look indulgently upon his politics. The +queen had entered, meantime, with the king's sister, Lady +Adelaide, and one or two of the ladies of honor; and, after saying +something courteous to all, in her own language, and assuring <i>us</i> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span> +that his majesty was very fond of America, the royal group bowed +out, and left us once more to ourselves.</p> + +<p>We remained a few minutes, and I occupied myself with looking +at the gold and crimson throne before me, and recalling to +my mind the world of historical circumstances connected with it. +You can easily imagine it all. The throne of France is, perhaps, +the most interesting one in the world. But, of all its associations, +none rushed upon me so forcibly, or retained my imagination so +long, as the accidental drama of which it was the scene during +the three days of July. It was here that the people brought the +polytechnic scholar, mortally wounded in the attack on the +palace, to die. He breathed his last on the throne of France, +surrounded with his comrades and a crowd of patriots. It is +one of the most striking and affecting incidents, I think, in all +history.</p> + +<p>As we passed out I caught a glimpse, through a side door, of +the queen and the princesses sitting round a table covered with +books, in a small drawing-room, while a servant, in the gaudy +livery of the court, was just entering with tea. The careless +attitudes of the figures, the mellow light of the shade-lamp, and +the happy voices of children coming through the door, reminded +me more of home than anything I have seen in France. It is +odd, but really the most aching sense of home-sickness I have +felt since I left America, was awakened at that moment—in the +palace of a king, and at the sight of his queen and daughters!</p> + +<p>We stopped in the antechamber to have our names recorded +in the visiting-book—a ceremony which insures us invitations to +all the balls given at court during the winter. The first has +already appeared in the shape of a printed note, in which we are +informed by the "aide-de-camp of the king and the lady of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span> +honor of the queen," that we are invited to a ball at the palace +on Monday night. To my distress there is a little direction at +the bottom, "<i>Les hommes seront en uniforme</i>," which subjects +those of us who are not military, once more to the awkwardness +of this ridiculous court dress. I advise all Americans coming +abroad to get a commission in the militia to travel with. It is +of use in more ways than one.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I met the <i>Countess Guiccioli</i>, walking yesterday in the Tuileries. +She looks much younger than I anticipated, and is a +handsome <i>blonde</i>, apparently about thirty. I am told by a gentleman +who knows her, that she has become a great flirt, and is +quite spoiled by admiration. The celebrity of Lord Byron's +attachment would, certainly, make her a very desirable acquaintance, +were she much less pretty than she really is; and I am told +her drawing-room is thronged with lovers of all nations, contending +for a preference, which, having been once given, as it has, +should be buried, I think, for ever. So, indeed, should have +been the Empress Maria Louisa's, and that of the widow of +Bishop Heber; and yet the latter has married a Greek count, +and the former a German baron!</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I find I was incorrect in the statement I gave you of the duel +between Mr. Hesse and Count Leon. The particulars have come +out more fully, and from the curious position of the parties (Mr. +Hesse, as I stated, being the natural son of George the Fourth, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span> +and Count Leon of Napoleon) are worth recapitulating. Count +Leon had lost several thousand francs to Mr. Hesse, which he +refused to pay, alleging that there had been unfair dealing in the +game. The matter was left to arbitration, and Mr. Hesse fully +cleared of the charge. Leon still refused to pay, and for fifteen +days practised with the pistol from morning till night. At the +end of this time he paid the money, and challenged Hesse. The +latter had lost the use of his right arm in the battle of Waterloo, +(fighting of course against Count Leon's father), but accepted +his challenge, and fired with his left hand. Hesse was shot +through the body, and has since died, and Count Leon was not +hurt. The affair has made a great sensation here, for Hesse had +a young and lovely wife, only seventeen, and was unusually beloved +and admired; while his opponent is a notorious gambler, +and every way detested. People meet at the gaming-table +here, however, as they meet in the street, without question of +character.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>Carnival is over. Yesterday was "<i>Mardi Gras</i>"—the last +day of the reign of Folly. Paris has been like a city of grown-up +children for a week. What with masking all night, supping, +or breakfasting, (which you please), at sunrise, and going to bed +between morning and noon, I feel that I have done my <i>devoir</i> +upon the experiment of French manners.</p> + +<p>It would be tedious, not to say improper, to describe all the +absurdities I have seen and mingled in for the last fortnight; but +I must try to give you some idea of the meaning the French +attach to the season of carnival, and the manner in which it is +celebrated. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span></p> + +<p>In society it is the time for universal gaiety and freedom. +Parties, fancy balls, and private masques, are given, and kept up +till morning. The etiquette is something more free, and gallantry +is indulged and followed with the privileges, almost, of a +Saturnalia. One of the gayest things I have seen was a fancy +ball, given by a man of some fashion, in the beginning of the season. +Most of the <i>distingués</i> of Paris were there; and it was, +perhaps, as fair a specimen of the elegant gaiety of the French +capital, as occurred during the carnival. The rooms were full +by ten. Everybody was in costume, and the ladies in dresses of +unusual and costly splendor. At a <i>bal costumé</i> there are no +masks, of course, and dancing, waltzing, and galopading followed +each other in the ordinary succession, but with all the heightened +effect and additional spirit of a magnificent spectacle. It was +really beautiful. There were officers from all the English regiments, +in their fine showy uniforms; and French officers who had +brought dresses from their far-off campaigns; Turks, Egyptians, +Mussulmans, and Algerine rovers—every country that had been +touched by French soldiers, represented in its richest costume +and by men of the finest appearance. There was a colonel of the +English Madras cavalry, in the uniform of his corps—one mass +of blue and silver, the most splendidly dressed man I ever saw; +and another Englishman, who is said to be the successor of Lord +Byron in the graces of the gay and lovely Countess Guiccioli, +was dressed as a Greek; and between the exquisite taste and +richness of his costume, and his really excessive personal beauty, +he made no ordinary sensation. The loveliest woman there was +a young baroness, whose dancing, figure, and face, so resembled +a celebrated Philadelphia belle, that I was constantly expecting +her musical French voice to break into English. She was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span> +dressed as an eastern dancing-girl, and floated about with the +lightness and grace of a fairy. Her motion intoxicated the eye +completely. I have seen her since at the Tuileries, where, in a +waltz with the handsome Duke of Orleans, she was the single +object of admiration for the whole court. She is a small, lightly-framed +creature, with very little feet, and a face of more brilliancy +than regular beauty, but all airiness and spirit. A very +lovely, indolent-looking English girl, with large sleepy eyes, was +dressed as a Circassian slave, with chains from her ankles to her +waist. She was a beautiful part of the spectacle, but too passive +to interest one. There were sylphs and nuns, broom-girls and +Italian peasants, and a great many in rich Polonaise dresses. It +was unlike any other fancy ball I ever saw, in the variety and +novelty of the characters represented, and the costliness with +which they were dressed. You can have no idea of the splendor +of a waltz in such a glittering assemblage. It was about time for +an early breakfast when the ball was over.</p> + +<p>The private masks are amusing to those who are intimate with +the circle. A stranger, of course, is neither acquainted enough +to amuse himself within proper limits, nor incognito enough to +play his gallantries at hazard. I never have seen more decidedly +<i>triste</i> assemblies than the balls of this kind which I have attended, +where the uniform black masks and dominoes gave the party the +aspect of a funeral, and the restraint made it quite as melancholy.</p> + +<p>The public masks are quite another affair. They are given at +the principal theatres, and commence at midnight. The pit and +stage are thrown into a brilliant hall, with the orchestra in the +centre; the music is divine, and the etiquette perfect liberty. +There is, of course, a great deal of vulgar company, for every +one is admitted who pays the ten francs at the door; but all +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span> +classes of people mingle in the crowd; and if one is not amused, +it is because he will neither listen nor talk. I think it requires +one or two masks to get one's eye so much accustomed to the +sight, that he is not disgusted with the exteriors of the women. +There was something very diabolical to me at first in a dead, +black representation of the human face, and the long black +domino. Persuading one's self that there is beauty under such +an outside, is like getting up a passion for a very ugly woman, +for the sake of her mind—difficult, rather. I soon became used +to it, however, and amused myself infinitely. One is liable to +waste his wit, to be sure; for in a crowd so rarely <i>bien composée</i>, +as they phrase it, the undistinguishing dress gives every one the +opportunity of bewildering you; but the feet and manner of walking, +and the tone and mode of expression, are indices sufficiently +certain to decide, and give interest to a pursuit; and, with +tolerable caution, one is paid for his trouble, in nineteen cases +out of twenty.</p> + +<p>At the public masks, the visitors are not all in domino. One +half at least are in caricature dresses, men in petticoats, and +women in boots and spurs. It is not always easy to detect the +sex. An English lady, a carnival-acquaintance of mine, made +love successfully, with the aid of a tall figure and great spirit, to +a number of her own sex. She wore a half uniform, and was +certainly a very elegant fellow. France is so remarkable indeed, +for effeminate-looking men and masculine-looking women, that +half the population might change costume to apparent advantage. +The French are fond of caricaturing English dandies, and they do +it with great success. The imitation of Bond-street dialect in +another language is highly amusing. There were two imitation +exquisites at the "<i>Varietés</i>" one night, who were dressed to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span> +perfection, and must have studied the character thoroughly. +The whole theatre was in a roar when they entered. Malcontents +take the opportunity to show up the king and ministers, +and these are excellent, too. One gets weary of fun. It is a +life which becomes tedious long before carnival is over. It is a +relief to sit down once more to books and pen.</p> + +<p>The three last days are devoted to street-masking. This is the +most ridiculous of all. Paris pours out its whole population upon +the Boulevards, and guards are stationed to keep the goers and +comers in separate lines, and prevent all collecting of groups on +the <i>pavé</i>. People in the most grotesque and absurd dress pass +on foot, and in loaded carriages, and all is nonsense and obscenity. +It is difficult to conceive the motive which can induce +grown-up people to go to the expense and trouble of such an exhibition, +merely to amuse the world. A description of these +follies would be waste of paper.</p> + +<p>On the last night but one of the carnival, I went to a ball at +the palace. We presented our invitations at the door, and +mounted through piles of soldiers of the line, crowds of servants +in the king's livery, and groves of exotics at the broad landing +places, to the reception room. We were ushered into the <i>Salle +des Marechals</i>—a large hall, the ceiling of which rises into the +dome of the Tuileries, ornamented with full-length portraits of +the living marshals of France. A gallery of a light airy structure +runs round upon the capitals of the pillars, and this, when +we entered, and at all the after hours of the ball, was crowded +with loungers from the assembly beneath—producing a splendid +effect, as their glittering uniforms passed and repassed under the +flags and armor with which the ceilings were thickly hung. The +royal train entered presently, and the band struck up a superb +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span> +march. Three rows of velvet-covered seats, one above another, +went round the hall, leaving a passage behind, and, in front of +these, the queen and her family made a circuit of courtesy, followed +by the wives of the ambassadors, among whom was our +countrywoman, Mrs. Rives. Her majesty went smiling past, +stopping here and there to speak to a lady whom she recognized, +and the king followed her with his eternal and painfully forced +smile, saying something to every second person he encountered. +The princesses have good faces, and the second one has an expression +of great delicacy and tenderness, but no beauty. As +soon as the queen was seated, the band played a quadrille, and +the crowd cleared away from the centre for the dance. The +Duke of Orleans selected his partner, a pretty girl, who, I believe +was English, and forward went the head couples to the exquisite +music of the new opera—Robert le Diable.</p> + +<p>I fell into the little <i>cortége</i> standing about the queen, and +watched the interesting party dancing the head quadrille for an +hour. The Duke of Orleans, who is nearly twenty, and seems a +thoughtless, good-natured, immature young man, moved about +very gracefully with his handsome figure, and seemed amused, +and quite unconscious of the attention he drew. The princesses +were <i>vis-a-vis</i>, and the second one, a dark-haired, slender, interesting +girl of nineteen, had a polytechnic scholar for her partner. +He was a handsome, gallant-looking fellow, who must have distinguished +himself to have been invited to court, and I could not +but admire the beautiful mixture of respect and self-confidence +with which he demanded the hand of the princess from the lady +of honor, and conversed with her during the dance. If royalty +does not seal up the affections, I could scarce conceive how a +being so decidedly of nature's best nobility, handsome, graceful, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span> +and confident, could come within the sphere of a sensitive-looking +girl, like the princess Christine, and not leave more than a +transient recollection upon her fancy. The music stopped, and I +had been so occupied with my speculations upon the polytechnic +boy, that I had scarcely noticed any other person in the dance. +He led the princess back to her seat by the <i>dame d'honneur</i>, +bowing low, colored a little, and mingled with the crowd. A +few minutes after, I saw him in the gallery, quite alone, leaning +over the railing, and looking down upon the scene below, having +apparently abandoned the dance for the evening. From something +in his face, and in the manner of resuming his sword, I was +certain he had come to the palace with that single object, and +would dance no more. I kept him in my eye most of the night, +and am very sure he did not. If the little romance I wove out +of it was not a true one, it was not because the material was improbable.</p> + +<p>As I was looking still at the quadrille dancing before the +queen, Dr. Bowring took my arm and proposed a stroll through +the other apartments. I found that the immense crowd in the +<i>Salle des Marechals</i> was but about one fifth of the assembly. +We passed through hall after hall, with music and dancing in +each, all crowded and gay alike, till we came at last to the <i>Salle +du Tróne</i> where the old men were collected at card-tables and in +groups for conversation. My distinguished companion was of +the greatest use to me here, for he knew everybody, and there +was scarce a person in the room who did not strongly excite my +curiosity. One half of them at least were maimed; some without +arms, and some with wooden legs, and faces scarred and +weather-burnt, but all in full uniform, and nearly all with three +or four orders of honor on the breast. You would have held +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span> +your breath to have heard the recapitulation of their names. At +one table sat <i>Marshal Grouchy</i> and <i>General Excelmans</i>; in a +corner stood <i>Marshal Soult</i>, conversing with a knot of peers of +France; and in the window nearest the door, <i>General Bernard</i>, +our country's friend and citizen, was earnestly engaged in talking +to a group of distinguished-looking men, two of whom, my companion +said, were members of the chamber of deputies. We +stood a moment, and a circle was immediately formed around Dr. +Bowring, who is a great favorite among the literary and liberal +people of France. The celebrated <i>General Fabvier</i> came up +among others, and <i>Cousin</i> the poet. Fabvier, as you know, +held a chief command in Greece, and was elected governor of +Paris <i>pro tem.</i> after the "three days." He is a very remarkable-looking +man, with a head almost exactly resembling that of the +bust of Socrates. The engravings give him a more animated +and warlike expression than he wears in private. <i>Cousin</i> is a +mild, retired-looking man, and was one of the very few persons +present not in the court uniform. Among so many hundred +coats embroidered with gold, his plain black dress looked singularly +simple and poet-like.</p> + +<p>I left the diplomatist-poet conversing with his friends, and +went back to the dancing rooms. Music and female beauty are +more attractive metal than disabled generals playing at cards; +and encountering in my way an <i>attaché</i> to the American legation, +I inquired about one or two faces that interested me, and collecting +information enough to pass through the courtesies of a +dance, I found a partner and gave myself up, like the rest, to +amusement.</p> + +<p>Supper was served at two, and a more splendid affair could not +be conceived. A long and magnificent hall on the other side of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span> +the <i>Salle du Tróne</i> was set with tables, covered with everything +that France could afford, in the royal services of gold and silver, +and in the greatest profusion. There was room enough for all +the immense assemblage, and when the queen was seated with +her daughters and ladies of honor, the company sat down and all +was as quiet and well regulated as a dinner party of four.</p> + +<p>After supper the dancing was resumed, and the queen remained +till three o'clock. At her departure the band played <i>cotillons</i> or +waltzes with figures, in which the Duke of Orleans displayed the +grace for which he is celebrated, and at four, quite exhausted +with fatigue and heat, I went with a friend or two into the long +glass verandah, built by Napoleon as a promenade for the Empress +Maria Louisa during her illness, where tea, coffee, and +ices were served to those who wished them after supper. It was +an interesting place enough, and had my eyes and limbs ached +less, I should have liked to walk up and down, and muse a little +upon its recollections, but swallowing my tea as hastily as possible, +I was but too happy to make my escape and get home to bed. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XVIII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +CHOLERA—UNIVERSAL TERROR—FLIGHT OF THE INHABITANTS—CASES +WITHIN THE WALLS OF THE PALACE—DIFFICULTY OF +ESCAPE—DESERTED STREETS—CASES NOT REPORTED—DRYNESS +OF THE ATMOSPHERE—PREVENTIVES RECOMMENDED—PUBLIC +BATHS, ETC. +</p> + +<p><i>Cholera! Cholera!</i> It is now the only topic. There is no +other interest—no other dread—no other occupation, for Paris. +The invitations for parties are <i>at last</i> recalled—the theatres are +<i>at last</i> shut or languishing—the fearless are beginning to be +afraid—people walk the streets with camphor bags and vinaigrettes +at their nostrils—there is a universal terror in all classes, +and a general flight of all who can afford to get away. I never +saw a people so engrossed with one single and constant thought. +The waiter brought my breakfast this morning with a pale face, +and an apprehensive question, whether I was quite well. I sent +to my boot-maker yesterday, and he was dead. I called on a +friend, a Hanoverian, one of those broad-chested, florid, immortal-looking +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span> +men, of whose health for fifty years, violence apart, one +is absolutely certain, and he was at death's door with the cholera. +Poor fellow! He had fought all through the revolution in +Greece; he had slept in rain and cold, under the open sky, +many a night, through a ten years' pursuit of the profession of +a soldier of fortune, living one of the most remarkable lives, +hitherto, of which I ever heard, and to be taken down here in +the midst of ease and pleasure, reduced to a shadow with so +vulgar and unwarlike a disease as this, was quite too much for +his philosophy. He had been ill three days when I found him. +He was emaciated to a skeleton in that short time, weak and +helpless, and, though he is not a man to exaggerate suffering, he +said he never had conceived such intense agony as he had endured. +He assured me, that if he recovered, and should ever be +attacked with it again, he would blow out his brains at the first +symptom. Nothing but his iron constitution protracted the disorder. +Most people who are attacked die in from three to +twenty-four hours.</p> + +<p>For myself, I have felt and still feel quite safe. My rooms +are in the airiest quarter of Paris, facing the gardens of the +Tuileries, with windows overlooking the king's; and, as far as +<i>air</i> is concerned, if his majesty considers himself well situated, it +would be quite ridiculous in so insignificant a person as myself to +be alarmed. With absolute health, confident spirits, and tolerably +regular habits, I have usually thought one may defy almost +anything but love or a bullet. To-day, however, there have been, +they say, two cases <i>within the palace-walls</i>, members of the royal +household, and Casimir Perier, who probably lives well and has +enough to occupy his mind, is very low with it, and one cannot +help feeling that he has no certain exemption, when a disease has +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</a></span> +touched both above and below him. I went to-day to the Messagerie +to engage my place for Marseilles, on the way to Italy, +but the seats are all taken, in both mail-post and diligence, for a +fortnight to come, and, as there are no <i>extras</i> in France, one +must wait his turn. Having done my duty to myself by the inquiry, +I shall be content to remain quiet.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I have just returned from a social tea-party at a house of one +of the few English families left in Paris. It is but a little after +ten, and the streets, as I came along, were as deserted and still +as if it were a city of the dead. Usually, until four or five in +the morning, the same streets are thronged with carriages hurrying +to and fro, and always till midnight the <i>trottoirs</i> are crowded +with promenaders. To-night I scarce met a foot-passenger, and +but one solitary cabriolet in a walk of a mile. The contrast was +really impressive. The moon was nearly full, and high in the +heavens, and the sky absolutely without a trace of a cloud; nothing +interrupted the full broad light of the moon, and the +empty streets were almost as bright as at noon-day; and, as I +crossed the <i>Place Vendome</i>, I could hear, for the first time since +I have been in Paris, though I have passed it at every hour of +the night, the echo of my footsteps reverberated from the walls +around. You should have been in these crowded cities of +Europe to realize the impressive solemnity of such solitude.</p> + +<p>It is said that fifty thousand people have left Paris within the +past week. Adding this to the thousand a day who are struck +with the cholera, and the attendance necessary to the sick, and a +thinned population is sufficiently accounted for. There are, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</a></span> +however, hundreds ill of this frightful disease, whose cases are +not reported. It is only those who are taken to the hospitals, +the poor and destitute, who are numbered in the official statements. +The physicians are wearied out with their <i>private</i> practice. +The medical lectures are suspended, and a regular physician is +hardly to be had at all. There is scarce a house in which some +one has not been taken. You see biers and litters issuing from +almost every gate, and the better ranks are no longer spared. A +sister of the premier, M. Perier, died yesterday; and it was +reported at the <i>Bourse</i>, that several distinguished persons, who +have been ill of it, are also dead. No one feels safe; and the +consternation and dread on every countenance you meet, is +enough to chill one's very blood. I went out to-day for a little +exercise, not feeling very well, and I was glad to get home again. +Every creature looks stricken with a mortal fear. And this +among a French population, the gayest and merriest of people +under all depressions ordinarily, is too strong a contrast not to +be felt painfully. There is something singular in the air, too; +a disagreeable, depressing dryness, which the physicians say +must change, or all Paris will be struck with the plague. It is +clear and cold, but almost suffocating with dryness.</p> + +<p>It is very consoling in the midst of so much that is depressing, +that the preventives recommended against the cholera are so +agreeable. "Live well," say the doctors, "and bathe often. +Abstain from excesses, keep a clear head and good spirits, and +amuse yourself as much and as rationally as possible." It is a +very excellent recipe for happiness, let alone the cholera. There +is great room for a nice observance of this system in Paris, particularly +the eating and bathing. The baths are delightful. +You are received in handsome saloons, opening upon a garden in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</a></span> +the centre of the building, ornamented with statues and fountains, +the journals lying upon the sofas, and everything arranged with +quite the luxury of a palace. The bathing-rooms are furnished +with taste; the baths are of marble, and covered inside with spotlessly +white linen cloths; the water is perfumed, and you may +lie and take your coffee, or have your breakfast served upon the +mahogany cover which shuts you in—a union of luxuries which +is enough to enervate a cynic. When you are ready to come out, +a pull of the bell brings a servant, who gives you a <i>peignoir</i>—a +long linen wrapper, heated in an oven, in the warm folds of +which you are enveloped, and in three minutes are quite dry. In +this you may sit, at your ease, reading, or musing, or lie upon +the sofa without the restraint of a tight dress, till you are ready +to depart; and then four or five francs, something less than a +dollar, pays for all. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XIX.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +MORNING VIEW FROM THE RUE RIVOLI—THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE—GUICCIOLI—SISMONDI +THE HISTORIAN, ETC.</p> + +<p>It is now the middle of April, and, sitting at my window on +the <i>Rue Rivoli</i>, I look through one of the long, clipped avenues +of the Tuileries, and see an arch of green leaves, the sun of eight +o'clock in the morning just breaking through the thin foliage and +dappling the straight, even gravel-walk below, with a look of +summer that makes my heart leap. The cholera has put an end +to dissipation, and one gets up early, from necessity. It is +delicious to step out before breakfast, and cross the street into +those lovely gardens, for an hour or two of fresh air and reflection. +It is warm enough now to sit on the stone benches about +the fountains, by the time the dew is dry; and I know nothing so +contemplative as the occupation of watching these royal swans, in +the dreamy, almost imperceptible motion with which they glide +around the edges of the basins. The gold fish swim up and +circle about the breast of the imperial birds with a motion almost +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span> +as idle; and the old wooden-legged soldier, who has been made +warden of the gardens for his service, sits nodding on one of the +chairs, or drawing fortifications with his stick in the gravel; and +so it happens, that, in the midst of a gay and busy city one may +feel always a luxurious solitude; and, be he ever so poor, loiter +all day if he will, among scenes which only regal munificence could +provide for him. With the <i>Seine</i> bounding them on one side, the +splendid uniform <i>façade</i> of the <i>Rue Rivoli</i> on the other, the +palace stretching across the southern terrace, and the thick woods +of the <i>Champs Elysées</i> at the opposite gate, where could one go +in the world to give his taste or his eye a more costly or delightful +satisfaction?</p> + +<p>The <i>Bois de Boulogne</i>, about which the Parisians talk so much, +is less to my taste. It is a level wood of small trees, covering a +mile or two square, and cut from corner to corner with straight +roads for driving. The soil is sandy, and the grass grows only in +tufts, the walks are rough, and either muddy or dusty always; +and, barring the equipages and the pleasure of a word in passing +an acquaintance, I find a drive to this famous wood rather a dull +business. I want either one thing or the other—cultivated +grounds like the Tuileries, or the wild wood.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I have just left the Countess Guiccioli, with whom I have been +acquainted for some two or three weeks. She is very much +frightened at the cholera, and thinks of going to America. The +conversation turned principally upon Shelley, whom of course she +knew intimately; and she gave me one of his letters to herself as +an autograph. She says at times he was a little crazy—"<i>fou</i>," +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span> +as she expressed it—but that there never was a nobler or a better +man. Lord Byron, she says, loved him like a brother. She is +still in correspondence with Shelley's wife, of whom also she +speaks with the greatest affection. There were several miniatures +of Byron hanging up in the room, and I asked her if any of them +were perfect in the resemblance. "No," she said, "this was the +most like him," taking down an exquisitely-finished miniature by +an Italian artist, "<i>mais il etaît beaucoup plus beau—beaucoup! +beaucoup!</i>" She reiterated the word with a very touching +tenderness, and continued to look at the picture for some time, +either forgetting our presence, or affecting it. She speaks English +sweetly, with a soft, slow, honeyed accent, breaking into +French when ever she gets too much interested to choose her +words. She went on talking in French of the painters who had +drawn Byron, and said the American, West's was the best +likeness. I did not like to tell her that West's picture of herself +was excessively flattered. I am sure no one would know her +from the engraving of it, at least. Her cheek bones are high, +her forehead is badly shaped, and, altogether, the <i>frame</i> of her +features is decidedly ugly. She dresses in the worst taste, too, +and yet, with all this, and poetry and celebrity aside, the +Countess Guiccioli is both a lovely and a fascinating woman, +and one whom a man of sentiment would admire, even at this +age, very sincerely, but not for beauty. She has white and +regular teeth, however, and her hair is incomparably the most +beautiful I ever saw. It is of the richest and glossiest gold, +silken and luxuriant, and changes, as the light falls upon it, with +a mellow softness, than which nothing could be lovelier. It is +this and her indescribably winning manner which are lost in a +picture, and therefore, it is perhaps fair that she should be +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span> +otherwise flattered. Her drawing-room is one of the most +agreeable in Paris at present, and is one of the chief <i>agrémens</i> +which console me for a detention in an atmosphere so triste as well +as dangerous.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>My bed-room window opens upon the court in the interior of +the hotel Rivoli, in which I lodge. In looking out occasionally +upon my very near neighbors opposite, I have frequently +observed a gray-headed, scholar-like, fine-looking old man, writing +at a window in the story below. One does not trouble himself +much about his fellow-lodgers, and I had seen this gentleman at +his work at all hours, for a month or more, without curiosity +enough to inquire even his name. This morning the servant +came in, with a <i>Mon Dieu!</i> and said <i>M. Sismondi</i> was frightened +by the cholera, and was leaving his lodgings at that moment. +The name startled me, and making some inquiries, I found that +my gray-headed neighbor was no other than the celebrated +historian of Italian literature, and that I had been living under +the same roof with him for weeks, and watching him at his +classical labors, without being at all aware of the honor of his +neighborhood. He is a kind, benevolent-looking man, of about +sixty, I should think; and always had a peculiarly affectionate +manner to his wife, who, I am told by the valet, is an Englishwoman. +I regretted exceedingly the opportunity I had lost of +knowing him, for there are few writers of whom one retains a +more friendly and agreeable remembrance.</p> + +<p>In a conversation with Mr. Cooper, the other day he was remarking +of how little consequence any one individual found himself +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span> +in Paris, even the most distinguished. We were walking in +the Tuileries, and the remark was elicited by my pointing out to +him one or two celebrated persons, whose names are sufficiently +known, but who walk the public promenades, quite unnoticed and +unrecognised. He said he did not think there were five people in +Paris who knew him at sight, though his works were advertised +in all the bookstores, and he had lived in Paris one or two years, +and walked there constantly. This was putting a strong case, for +the French idolize Cooper; and the peculiarly translateable +character of his works makes them read even better in a good +translation than in the original. It is so all over the continent, I +am told. The Germans, Italians, and Spaniards, prefer Cooper +to Scott; and it is easily accounted for when one remembers how +much of the beauty of the Waverly novels depends on their exquisite +style, and how peculiarly Cooper's excellence lies in his +accurate, definite, tangible descriptions. There is not a more admired +author in Europe than Cooper, it is very certain; and I +am daily asked whether he is in America at present—so little +do the people of these crowded cities interest themselves about +that which is immediately at their elbows. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XX.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +GENERAL BERTRAND—FRIEND OF LADY MORGAN—PHRENOLOGY—DR. +SPURZHEIM—HIS LODGINGS—PROCESS OF TAKING A CAST OF +THE HEAD—INCARCERATION OF DR. BOWRING AND DE POTTER—DAVID +THE SCULPTOR—VISIT OF DR. SPURZHEIM TO THE UNITED +STATES.</p> + +<p>My room-mate called a day or two since on General Bertrand, +and yesterday he returned the visit, and spent an hour at our +lodgings. He talked of Napoleon with difficulty, and became +very much affected when my friend made some inquiries about +the safety of the body at St. Helena. The inquiry was suggested +by some notice we had seen in the papers of an attempt to rob +the tomb of Washington. The General said that the vault was +fifteen feet deep, and covered by a slab that could not be moved +without machinery. He told us that Madame Bertrand had +many mementoes of the Emperor, which she would be happy to +show us, and we promised to visit him.</p> + +<p>At a party, a night or two since, I fell into conversation with +an English lady, who had lived several years in Dublin, and was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span> +an intimate friend of Lady Morgan. She was an uncommonly +fine woman, both in appearance and conversational powers, and +told me many anecdotes of the authoress, defending her from all +the charges usually made against her, except that of vanity, which +she allowed. I received, on the whole, the impression that Lady +Morgan's goodness of heart was more than an offset to her certainly +very innocent weaknesses. My companion was much +amused at an American's asking after the "fender in Kildare +street;" though she half withdrew her cordiality when I told her +I knew the countryman of mine who wrote the account of Lady +Morgan, of which she complains so bitterly in the "Book of the +Boudoir." It was this lady with whom the fair authoress "dined +in the <i>Chaussée d'Antin</i>," so much to her satisfaction.</p> + +<p>While we were conversing, the lady's husband came up, and +finding that I was an American, made some inquiries about the +progress of <i>phrenology</i> on the other side of the water. Like most +enthusiasts in the science, his own head was a remarkably beautiful +one; and I soon found that he was the bosom friend of Dr. +Spurzheim, to whom he offered to introduce me. We made an +engagement for the next day, and the party separated.</p> + +<p>My new acquaintance called on me the next morning, according +to appointment, and we went together to Dr. Spurzheim's +residence. The passage at the entrance was lined with cases, in +which stood plaster casts of the heads of distinguished men, +orators, poets, musicians—each class on its particular shelf—making +altogether a most ghastly company. The doctor received +my companion with great cordiality, addressing him in French, +and changing to very good German-English when he made any +observation to me. He is a tall, large-boned man, and resembles +Harding, the American artist, very strikingly. His head is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span> +finely marked; his features are bold, with rather a German +look; and his voice is particularly winning, and changes its +modulations, in argument, from the deep, earnest tone of a man, +to an almost child-like softness. The conversation soon turned +upon America, and the doctor expressed, in ardent terms, his +desire to visit the United States, and said he had thought of +accomplishing it the coming summer. He spoke of Dr. Channing—said +he had read all his works with avidity and delight, +and considered him one of the clearest and most expansive +minds of the age. If Dr. Channing had not strong developments +of the organs of <i>ideality</i> and <i>benevolence</i>, he said, he should doubt +his theory more than he had ever found reason to. He knew +Webster and Professor Silliman by reputation, and seemed to be +familiar with our country, as few men in Europe are. One +naturally, on meeting a distinguished phrenologist, wishes to have +his own developments pronounced upon; but I had been warned +by my friend that Dr. Spurzheim refused such examinations as a +general principle, not wishing to deceive people, and unwilling to +run the risk of offending them. After a half hour's conversation, +however, he came across the room, and putting his hands under +my thick masses of hair, felt my head closely all over, and mentioned +at once a quality, which, right or wrong, has given a tendency +to all my pursuits in life. As he knew absolutely nothing +of me, and the gentleman who introduced me knew no more, I +was a little startled. The doctor then requested me to submit to +the operation of having a cast taken of my head, an offer which +was too kind and particular to be declined; and, appointing an +hour to be at his rooms the following day, we left him.</p> + +<p>I was there again at twelve, the morning after, and found +De Potter (the Belgian patriot) and Dr. Bowring, with the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span> +phrenologist, waiting to undergo the same operation. The +preparations looked very formidable, A frame, of the length +of the human body, lay in the middle of the room, with a +wooden bowl to receive the head, a mattress, and a long white +dress to prevent stain to the clothes. As I was the youngest, I +took my turn first. It was very like a preparation for being +beheaded. My neck was bared, my hair cut, and the long white +dress put on. The back of the head is taken first; and, as I was +only immersed up to the ears in the liquid plaster, this was not +very alarming. The second part, however, demanded more +patience. My head was put once more into the stiffened mould +of the first half, and as soon as I could get my features composed +I was ordered to shut my eyes; my hair was oiled and laid smooth, +and the liquid plaster poured slowly over my mouth, eyes, and +forehead, till I was cased completely in a stiffening mask. The +material was then poured on thickly, till the mask was two or +three inches thick, and the voices of those standing over me were +scarcely audible. I breathed pretty freely through the orifices at +my nose; but the dangerous experiment of Mademoiselle Sontag, +who was nearly smothered in the same operation, came across my +mind rather vividly; and it seemed to me that the doctor handled +the plaster quite too ungingerly, when he came to mould about +my nostrils. After a half hour's imprisonment, the plaster +became sufficiently hardened, and the thread which was laid upon +my face was drawn through, dividing the mask into two parts. +It was then gradually removed, pulling very tenaciously upon my +eyelashes and eyebrows, and leaving all the cavities of my face +filled with particles of lime. The process is a tribute to vanity, +which one would not be willing to pay very often.</p> + +<p>I looked on at Dr. Bowring's incarceration with no great feeling +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">160</a></span> +of relief. It is rather worse to see than to experience, I +think. The poet is a nervous man; and as long as the muscles +of his face were visible, his lips, eyelids, and mouth, were quivering +so violently that I scarcely believed it would be possible to +get an impression of them. He has a beautiful face for a scholar—clear, +well-cut, finished features, expressive of great purity of +thought; and a forehead of noble amplitude, white and polished +as marble. His hair is black and curling (indicating in most +cases, as Dr. Spurzheim remarked, activity of mind), and forms a +classical relief to his handsome temples. Altogether, his head +would look well in a picture, though his ordinary and ungraceful +dress, and quick, bustling manner, rather destroy the effect of it +in society.</p> + +<p>De Potter is one of the noblest-looking men I ever saw. He +is quite bald, with a broad, ample, majestic head, the very model +of dignity and intellect. Dr. Spurzheim considers his head one +of the most extraordinary he has met. <i>Firmness</i> is the great development +of its organs. His tone and manner are calm and +very impressive, and he looks made for great occasions—a man +stamped with the superiority which others acknowledge when circumstances +demand it. He employs himself in literary pursuits +at Paris, and has just published a pamphlet on "the manner of +conducting a revolution, so that no after-revolution shall be +necessary." I have translated the title awkwardly, but that is +the subject.</p> + +<p>I have since heard Dr. Spurzheim lecture twice, and have been +with him to a meeting of the "Anthropological Society" (of +which he is the president and De Potter the secretary), where I +witnessed the dissection of the human brain. It was a most +interesting and satisfactory experiment, as an illustration of phrenology. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</a></span> +David the sculptor is a member of the society, and was +present. He looks more like a soldier than an artist, however—wearing +the cross of the Legion of Honor, with a military frock +coat, and an erect, stern, military carriage. Spurzheim lectures +in a free, easy, unconstrained style, with occasionally a little +humor, and draws his arguments from admitted facts only. +Nothing could be more reasonable than his premises, and nothing +more like an axiom than the results, as far as I have heard him. +At any rate, true or false, his theory is one of extreme interest, +and no time can be wasted in examining it; for it is the study of +man, and therefore the most important of studies.</p> + +<p>I have had several long conversations with Dr. Spurzheim +about America, and have at last obtained his positive assurance +that he would visit it. He gave me permission this morning to +say (what I am sure all lovers of knowledge will be pleased to +hear) that he should sail for New York in the course of the +ensuing summer, and pass a year or more in lecturing and travelling +in the United States. He is a man to obtain the immediate +confidence and respect of a people like ours, of the highest moral +worth, and the most candid and open mind. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXI.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum">DEPARTURE FROM PARIS—DESULTORY REMARKS.</p> + +<p>I take my departure from Paris to-morrow. I have just been +making preparations to pack, and it has given me a fit of bad +spirits. I have been in France only a few months, but if I had +lived my life here, I could not be more at home. In my almost +universal acquaintance, I have of course made pleasant friends, +and, however time and travel should make us indifferent to such +volant attachments, I can not now cast off these threads of intimacy, +without pulling a little upon very sincere feelings. I have +been burning the mass of papers and cards that have accumulated +in my drawers; and the sight of these French invitations, mementoes, +as they are, of delightful and fascinating hours, almost +staggers my resolution of departure. It has been an intoxicating +time to me. Aside from lighter attractions, this metropolis +collects within itself so much of the distinction and genius of the +world; and gifted men in Paris, coming here merely for pleasure, +are so peculiarly accessible, that one looks upon them as friends +to whom he has become attached and accustomed, and leaves the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span> +sphere in which he has met them, as if he had been a part of it, +and had a right to be regretted. I do not think I shall ever +spend so pleasant a winter again. And then my local interest is +not a light one. I am a great lover of out-of-doors, and I have +ransacked Paris thoroughly. I know it all from its broad faubourgs +to its obscurest <i>cul de sac</i>. I have hunted with antiquaries +for coins and old armor; with lovers of adventure for the +amusing and odd; with the curious for traces of history; with the +romantic for the picturesque. Paris is a world for research. It +contains more odd places, I believe, more odd people, and every +way more material for uncommon amusement, than any other city +in the universe. One might live a life of novelty without +crossing the barrier. All this insensibly attaches one. My eye +wanders at this moment from my paper to these lovely gardens +lying beneath my window, and I could not feel more regret if +they were mine. Just over the long line of low clipped trees, +edging the fashionable terrace, I see the windows of the king +within half a stone's throw—the windows at which Napoleon has +stood, and the long line of the monarchs of France, and it has +become to me so much a habit of thought, sitting here in the +twilight and musing on the thousand, thousand things linked with +the spot my eye embraces, that I feel as if I had grown to it—as +if Paris had become to me, what it is proverbially and naturally +enough to a Frenchman—"the world."</p> + +<p>I have other associations which I part from less painfully, +because I hope at some future time to renew them—those with +my own countrymen. There are few pleasanter circles than that +of the Americans in Paris. Lafayette and his numerous family +make a part of them. I could not learn to love this good man +more, but seeing him often brings one's reverence more within +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span> +the limits of the affections; and I consider the little of his +attention that has fallen to my share the honored part of my life, +and the part best worth recording and remembering. He called +upon me a day or two ago, to leave with me some copies of a +translation of Mr. Cooper's letter on the finances of our government, +to be sent to my friend Dr. Howe; but, to my regret, I +did not see him. He neglects no American, and is ever busied +about some project connected with their welfare. May God +continue to bless him!</p> + +<p>And speaking of Mr. Cooper, no one who loves or owns a pride +in his native land, can live abroad without feeling every day what +we owe to the patriotism as well as the genius of this gifted man. +If there is an individual who loves the soil that gave him birth, +and so shows it that we are more respected for it, it is he. Mr. +Cooper's position is a high one; he has great advantages, and he +improves them to the uttermost. His benevolence and activity +in all enterprises for the relief of suffering, give him influence, +and he employs it like a true philanthropist and a real lover of +his country. I say this particularly, though it may look like +too personal a remark, because Americans abroad are <i>not</i> +always <i>national</i>. I am often mortified by reproaches from +foreigners, quoting admissions made by my countrymen, which +should be the last on their lips. A very distinguished person +told me a day or two since, that "the Americans abroad were +the worst enemies we had in Europe." It is difficult to +conceive at home how such a remark stings. Proportionately, +one takes a true patriot to his heart and I feel it right to say +here, that the love of country and active benevolence of Mr. +Cooper distinguish him abroad, even more than his genius. His +house is one of the most hospitable and agreeable in Paris; and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span> +with Morse and the circle of artists and men of distinction and +worth about him, he is an acquaintance sincerely to regret +leaving.</p> + +<p>From Mr. Rives, our Minister, I have received every possible +kindness. He has attached me to his legation, to facilitate my +access to other courts and the society of other cities, and to free +me from all delays and annoyances at frontiers and custom-houses. +It is a particular and valuable kindness, and I feel a pleasure in +acknowledging it. Then there is Dr. Bowring, the lover and +defender of the United States, who, as the editor of the Westminster +Review, should be well remembered in America, and of +him I have seen much, and from him I have received great kindness. +Altogether, as I said before, Paris is a home to me, and +I leave it with a heavy heart.</p> + +<p>I have taken a place on the top of the diligence <i>for a week</i>. +It is a long while to occupy one seat, but the weather and the +season are delicious; and in the covered and roomy cabriolet, +with the <i>conducteur</i> for a living reference, and all the appliances +for comfort, I expect to live very pleasantly, night and day, till I +reach Marseilles. <i>Vaucluse</i> is on the way, and I shall visit it if +I have time and good weather, perhaps. At Marseilles I propose +to take the steamboat for Leghorn, and thence get directly to +Florence, where I shall remain till I become familiar with the +Italian, at least. I lay down my pen till all this plan of travel is +accomplished, and so, for the present, adieu! +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_st"><span class="smcap">Chalons, on the saone.</span>—I have broken my route to stop at +this pretty town, and take the steamboat which goes down the +Saone to Lyons to-morrow morning. I have travelled two days +and nights; but an excellent dinner and a quickened imagination +indispose me for sleep, and, for want of better amusement in a +strange city at night, I will pass away an hour in transcribing the +hurried notes I have made at the stopping places.</p> + +<p>I chose, by advice, the part of the diligence called the <i>banquette</i>—a +covered seat over the front of the carriage, commanding +all the view, and free from the dust of the lower apartments. +The <i>conducteur</i> had the opposite corner, and a very ordinary-looking +man sat between us; the seat holding three very comfortably. +A lady and two gentlemen occupied the <i>coupé</i>; a +dragoon and his family, going to join his regiment, filled the +<i>rotonde</i>; and in the interior was a motley collection, whom I +scarce saw after starting; the occupants of the different parts of +a diligence having no more association, even in a week's travel, +than people living in adjoining houses in the city. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span></p> + +<p>We rolled out of Paris by the <i>faubourg St. Antoine</i>, and at +the end of the first post passed the first object that interested me—a +small brick pavilion, built by Henri Quatre for the beautiful +Gabrielle d'Estrees. It stands on a dull, level plain, not far +from the banks of the river; and nothing but the fact that it was +once occupied by the woman who most enslaved the heart of the +most chivalrous and fickle of the French monarchs, would call +your attention to it for a moment.</p> + +<p>For the twenty or thirty miles which we travelled by daylight, +I saw nothing particularly curious or beautiful. The guide-book +is very diffuse upon the chateaux and villages on the road, but I +saw nothing except very ordinary country-houses, and the same +succession of small and dirty villages, steeped to the very chimneys +in poverty. If ever I return to America, I shall make a journey to +the west, for the pure refreshment of seeing industry and thrift. +I am sick to the heart of pauperism and misery. Everything +that is near the large towns in France is either splendid or +disgusting. There is no medium in condition—nothing that +looks like content—none of that class we define in our country +as the "respectable."</p> + +<p>The moon was a little in the wane, but bright, and the night +lovely. As we got further into the interior, the towns began to +look more picturesque and antique; and, with the softening +touch of the moonlight, and the absence of beggars, the old low-browed +buildings and half-ruined churches assumed the beauty +they wear in description. I slept on the road, but the echo of +the wheels in entering a post-town woke me always; and I rarely +have felt the picturesque more keenly than, at these sudden +wakings from dreams, perhaps, of familiar things, finding myself +opposite some shadowy relic of another age; as if it were by +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</a></span> +magical transportation, from the fireside to some place of which I +had heard or read the history.</p> + +<p>I awoke as we drove into <i>Sens</i> at broad daylight. We +were just passing a glorious old pile of a cathedral, which I ran +back to see while the diligence stopped to change horses. It is +of pointed architecture, black with age, and crusted with moss. +It was to this town that Thomas a Becket retired in disgrace at +his difference with Henry the Second. There is a chapel in the +cathedral, dedicated to his memory. The French certainly +should have the credit of leaving things alone. This old pile +stands as if the town in which it is built had been desolate for +centuries: not a letter of the old sculptures chiselled out, not a +bird unnested, not a filament of the gathering moss pulled away. +All looks as if no human hand had been near it—almost as if no +human eye had looked upon it. In America they would paint +such an old church white or red, shove down the pillars, and put +up pews, sell the pictures for fireboards, and cover the tesselated +pavement with sand, or a home-made carpet.</p> + +<p>As we passed under a very ancient gate, crowning the old +Roman ramparts of the town, a door opened, and a baker, in +white cap and apron, thrust out his head to see us pass. His +oven was blazing bright, and he had just taken out a batch of hot +bread, which was smoking on the table; and what with the +chill of the morning air and having fasted for some fourteen +hours, I quite envied him his vocation. The diligence, however, +pushed on most mercilessly till twelve o'clock, the French never +dreaming of eating before their late <i>dejeuner</i>—a mid-day meal +always. When we did get it, it was a dinner in every respect—meats +of all kinds, wine, and dessert, certainly as solid and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</a></span> +various as any of the American breakfasts, at which travellers +laugh so universally.</p> + +<p>Auxerre is a pretty town, on a swelling bank of the river +Yonne; and I had admired it as one of the most improved-looking +villages of France. It was not till I had breakfasted +there, and travelled a league or two towards Chalons, that I +discovered by the guide book it was the ancient capital of Auxerrois, +a famous town in the time of Julius Cæsar, and had the +honor of being ravaged "at different times by Attila, the +Saracens, the Normans, and the Calvinists, vestiges of whose +devastations may still be seen." If I had not eaten of a positively +modern <i>paté foie gras</i>, and an <i>omelette soufflé</i>, at a nice little hotel, +with a mistress in a cap, and a coquettish French apron, I should +forgive myself less easily for not having detected antiquity in the +atmosphere. One imagines more readily than he realizes the +charm of mere age without beauty.</p> + +<p>We were now in the province of Burgundy, and, to say +nothing of the historical recollections, the vineyards were all +about us that delighted the palates of the world. One does not +dine at the <i>Trois Fréres</i>, in the Palais Royal, without contracting +a tenderness for the very name of Burgundy. I regretted +that I was not there in the season of the grape. The vines were +just budding, and the <i>paysans</i>, men and women, were scattered +over the vineyards, loosening the earth about the roots, and +driving stakes to support the young shoots. At Saint Bris I +found the country so lovely, that I left the diligence at the post-house, +and walked on to mount a long succession of hills on foot. +The road sides were quite blue with the violets growing thickly +among the grass, and the air was filled with perfume. I soon +got out of sight of the heavy vehicle, and made use of my leisure +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</a></span> +to enter the vineyards and talk to the people at their work. I +found one old man, with all his family about him; the little ones +with long baskets on their backs, bringing manure, and one or +two grown-up boys and girls raking up the earth with the +unhandy hoe of the country, and setting it firmly around the +roots with their wooden shoes. It was a pretty group, and I was +very much amused with their simplicity. The old man asked my +country, and set down his hoe in astonishment when I told him I +was an American. He wondered I was not more burnt, living in +such a hot country, and asked me what language we spoke. I +could scarce get away from his civilities when I bade him "Good +day." No politeness could have been more elegant than the +manner and expression of this old peasant, and certainly nothing +could have appeared sincerer or kinder. I kept on up the hill till +I reached a very high point, passing on my way a troop of +Italians, going to Paris with their organs and shows—a set of as +ragged specimens of the picturesque as I ever saw in a picture. +A lovely scene lay before me when I turned to look back. The +valley, on one side of which lies St. Bris, is as round as a bowl, +with an edge of mountain-tops absolutely even all around the +horizon. It slopes down from every side to the centre, as if it +had been measured and hollowed by art; and there is not a fence +to be seen from one side to the other, and scarcely a tree, but one +green and almost unbroken carpet of verdure, swelling up in broad +green slopes to the top, and realizing, with a slight difference, the +similitude of Madame de Genlis, of the place of satiety, eternal +green meadow and eternal blue sky. St. Bris is a little handful +of stone buildings around an old church; just such a thing as a +painter would throw into a picture—and the different-colored +grain, and here and there a ploughed patch of rich yellow earth, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span> +and the road crossing the hollow from hill to hill like a white +band; and then for the life of the scene, the group of Italians, +the cumbrous diligence, and the peasants in their broad straw +hats, scattered over the fields—it was something quite beyond +my usual experience of scenery and accident. I had rarely +before found so much in one view to delight me.</p> + +<p>After looking a while, I mounted again, and stood on the very +top of the hill; and, to my surprise, there, on the other side lay +just such another valley, with just such a village in its bosom, +and the single improvement of a river—the Yonne stealing +through it, with its riband-like stream; but all the rest of the +valley almost exactly as I have described the other. I crossed +a vineyard to get a view to the southeast, and <i>once more</i> there +lay a deep hollow valley before me, formed like the other two, +with its little hamlet and its vineyards and mountains—as if there +had been three lakes in the hills, with their edges touching like +three bowls, and the terrace on which I stood was the platform +between them. It is a most singular formation of country, really, +and as beautiful as it is singular. Each of these valleys might +be ten miles across; and if the dukes of Burgundy in feudal +times rode ever to St. Bris, I can conceive that their dukedom +never seemed larger to them than when crossing this triple apex +of highland.</p> + +<p>At Saulieu we left the usual route, and crossed over to Chagny. +Between these two places lay a spot, which, out of my own country, +I should choose before all others for a retreat from the +world. As it was off the route, the guide-book gave me not +even the name, and I have discovered nothing but that the little +hamlet is called <i>Rochepot</i>. It is a little nest of wild scenery, a +mimic valley shut in by high overhanging crags, with the ruins +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span> +of a battlemented and noble old castle, standing upon a rock in +the centre, with the village of some hundred stone cottages at its +very foot. You might stand on the towers of the ruins, and toss +a biscuit into almost every chimney in the village. The strong +round towers are still perfect, and the turrets and loop-holes and +windows are still there; and rank green vines have overrun the +whole mass everywhere; and nothing but the prodigious solidity +with which it was built could have kept it so long from falling, +for it is evidently one of the oldest castles in Burgundy. I never +before saw anything, even in a picture, which realized perfectly +my idea of feudal position. Here lived the lord of the domain, a +hundred feet in the air in his rocky castle, right over the heads +of his retainers, with the power to call in every soul that served +him at a minute's warning, and with a single blast of his trumpet. +I do not believe a stone has been displaced in the village for a +hundred years. The whole thing was redolent of antiquity. We +wound out of the place by a sharp narrow pass, and there, within +a mile of this old and deserted fortress, lay the broad plains +of Beaune and Chagny—one of the most fertile and luxurious +parts of France. I was charmed altogether. How many things +I have seen this side the water that I have made an involuntary +vow in my heart to visit again, and at more leisure, before I die!</p> + +<p>From Chagny it was but one post to Chalons, and here I am +in a pretty, busy town, with broad beautiful quays, where I have +promenaded till dark, observing this out-of-doors people; and +now, having written a long letter for a sleepy man, I will get to +bed, and redeem some portion of my two nights' wakefulness. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXIII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +PASSAGE DOWN THE SAONE—AN ODD ACQUAINTANCE—LYONS—CHURCH +OF NOTRE DAME DE FOURVIERES—VIEW FROM THE +TOWER.</p> + +<p>I looked out of my window the last thing before going to bed +at Chalons, and the familiar constellation of <i>Ursa Major</i> never +shone brighter, and never made me a more agreeable promise +than that of fair weather the following day for my passage down +the Saone. I was called at four, and it rained in torrents. The +steamboat was smaller than the smallest I have seen in our country, +and crowded to suffocation with children, women, and lap-dogs. +I appropriated my own trunk, and spreading my umbrella, +sat down upon it, to endure my disappointment with what philosophy +I might. A dirty-looking fellow, who must have slept in +his clothes for a month, came up, with a loaf of coarse bread +under his arm, and addressed me, to my sufficient astonishment, +<i>in Latin</i>! He wanted to sit under my umbrella. I looked at +him a second time, but he had touched my passion. Latin is +the only thing I have been driven to, in this world, that I ever +really loved; and the clear, mellow, unctuous pronunciation of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span> +my dirty companion equally astonished and pleased me. I made +room for him on my trunk, and, though rusted somewhat since I +philosophized over Lucretius, we got on very tolerably. He was +a German student, travelling to Italy, and a fine specimen of the +class. A dirtier man I never saw, and hardly a finer or more +intellectual face. He knew everything, and served me as a talking +guide to the history of all the places on the river.</p> + +<p>Instead of eating all at once, as we do on board the steamboats +in America, the French boats have a <i>restaurant</i>, from which you +order what you please, and at any hour. The cabin was set +round with small tables, and the passengers made little parties, +and breakfasted and dined at their own time. It is much the +better method. I descended to the cabin very hungry about +twelve o'clock, and was looking about for a place, when a +French gentleman politely rose, and observing that I was alone, +(my German friend living on bread and water only,) requested +me to join his party at breakfast. Two young ladies and a lad +of fourteen sat at the table, and addressing them by their familiar +names, my polite friend requested them to give me a place; and +then told me that they were his daughters and son, and that he +was travelling to Italy for the health of the younger girl, a pale, +slender creature, apparently about eighteen. I was very well +pleased with my position, and rarely have passed an hour more +agreeably. French girls of the better classes never talk, but the +father was very communicative, and a Parisian, with the cross of +the Legion of Honor, and we found abundance of matter for conversation. +They have stopped at Lyons, where I write at present, +and I shall probably join their party to Marseilles.</p> + +<p>The clouds broke away after mid-day, and the banks of the +river brightened wonderfully with the change. The Saone is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span> +about the size of the Mohawk, but not half so beautiful; at least +for the greater part of its course. Indeed, you can hardly compare +American with European rivers, for the charm is of another +description, quite. With us it is nature only, here it is almost +all art. Our rivers are lovely, because the outline of the shore is +graceful, and particularly because the vegetation is luxuriant. +The hills are green, the foliage deep and lavish, the rocks grown +over with vines or moss, the mountains in the distance covered +with pines and other forest-trees; everything is wild, and nothing +looks bare or sterile. The rivers of France are crowned on every +height with ruins, and in the bosom of every valley lies a cluster +of picturesque stone cottages; but the fields are naked, and there +are no trees; the mountains are barren and brown, and everything +looks as if the dwellings had been deserted by the people, and +nature had at the same time gone to decay. I can conceive +nothing more melancholy than the views upon the Saone, seen, +as I saw them, though vegetation is out everywhere, and the +banks should be beautiful if ever. As we approached Lyons the +river narrowed and grew bolder, and the last ten miles were +enchanting. Naturally the shores at this part of the Saone are +exceedingly like the highlands of the Hudson above West Point. +Abrupt hills rise from the river's edge, and the windings are +sharp and constant. But imagine the highlands of the Hudson +crowned with antique chateaux, and covered to the very top with +terraces and summer-houses and hanging-gardens, gravel walks +and beds of flowers, instead of wild pines and precipices, and you +may get a very correct idea of the Saone above Lyons. You +emerge from one of the dark passes of the river by a sudden +turn, and there before you lies this large city, built on both banks, +at the foot and on the sides of mountains. The bridges are fine, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span> +and the broad, crowded quays, all along the edges of the river, +have a beautiful effect. We landed at the stone stairs, and +I selected a hotel by chance, where I have found seven Americans +of my acquaintance. We have been spending the evening +at the rooms of a townsman of mine, very pleasantly.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>There is a great deal of magnificence at Lyons, in the way of +quays, promenades, and buildings; but its excessive filthiness +spoils everything. One could scarce admire a Venus in such an +atmosphere; and you cannot find room to stand in Lyons where +you have not some nauseating odor. I was glad to escape from +the lower streets, and climb up the long staircases to the observatory +that overhangs the town. From the base of this elevation +the descent of the river is almost a precipice. The houses +hang on the side of the steep hill, and their doors enter from the +long alleys of stone staircases by which you ascend. On every +step, and at almost every foot of the way, stood a beggar. They +might have touched hands from the quay to the summit. If +they were not such objects of real wretchedness, it would be +laughable to hear the church calendar of saints repeated so +volubly. The lame hobble after you, the blind stumble in your +way, the sick lie and stretch out their hands from the wall, and +all begin in the name of the Virgin Mary, and end with "<i>Mon +bon Monsieur</i>," and "<i>un petit sous</i>." I confined my charities to +a lovely child, that started out from its mother's lap, and ran +down to meet us—a dirty and ragged little thing, but with the +large dark eyes of the province; and a skin, where one could see +it, of the clearest nut-brown teint. Her mother had five such, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span> +and each of them, to any one who loved children, would have +been a treasure of beauty and interest.</p> + +<p>It was holy-week, and the church of <i>Notre Dame de Fourvières</i>, +which stands on the summit of the hill, was crowded with +people. We went in for a moment, and sat down on a bench to +rest. My companion was a Swiss captain of artillery, who was +a passenger in the boat, a very splendid fellow, with a mustache +that he might have tied behind his ears. He had addressed me +at the hotel, and proposed that we should visit the curiosities of +the town together. He was a model of a manly figure, athletic, +and soldier-like, and standing near him was to get the focus of all +the dark eyes in the congregation.</p> + +<p>The new square tower stands at the side of the church, and +rises to the height of perhaps sixty feet. The view from it is +said to be one of the finest in the world. I have seen more extensive +ones, but never one that comprehended more beauty and +interest. Lyons lies at the foot, with the Saone winding through +its bosom in abrupt curves; the Rhone comes down from the +north on the other side of the range of mountains, and meeting +the Saone in a broad stream below the town, they stretch off to +the south, through a diversified landscape; the Alps rise from +the east like the edges of a thunder-cloud, and the mountains of +Savoy fill up the interval to the Rhone. All about the foot of +the monument lie gardens, of exquisite cultivation; and above +and below the city the villas of the rich; giving you altogether +as delicious a nucleus for a broad circle of scenery as art and +nature could create, and one sufficiently in contrast with the barrenness +of the rocky circumference to enhance the charm, and +content you with your position. Half way down the hill lies an +old monastery, with a lovely garden walled in from the world; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span> +and several of the brotherhood were there, idling up and down +the shaded alleys, with their black dresses sweeping the ground, +possibly in holy contemplation. The river was covered with +boats, the bells were ringing to church, the glorious old cathedral, +so famous for its splendor, stood piled up, with its arches and +gray towers, in the square below; the day was soft, sunny, and +warm, and existence was a blessing. I leaned over the balustrade, +I know not how long, looking down upon the scene about +me; and I shall ever remember it as one of those few unalloyed +moments, when the press of care was taken off my mind, and the +chain of circumstances was strong enough to set aside both the +past and the future, and leave me to the quiet enjoyment of the +present. I have found such hours "few and far between." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXIV.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +DEPARTURE FROM LYONS—BATTEAUX DE POSTE—RIVER SCENERY—VILLAGE +OF CONDRIEU—VIENNE—VALENCE—POINT ST. ESPRIT—DAUPHINY +AND LANGUEDOC—DEMI-FETE DAY, ETC.</p> + +<p>I found a day and a half quite enough for Lyons. The views +from the mountain and the river were the only things that +pleased me. I made the usual dry visit to the library and the +museum, and admired the Hotel de Ville, and the new theatre, +and the front of the <i>Maison de Tolosan</i>, that so struck the fancy +of Joseph II., and having "despatched the lions," like a true +cockney traveller, I was too happy to escape the offensive smells +of the streets, and get to my rooms. One does not enjoy much +comfort within doors either. Lyons is a great imitation metropolis—a +sort of second-hand Paris. I am not very difficult to +please, but I found the living intolerable. It was an affectation +of abstruse cookery throughout. We sat down to what is called +the best table in the place, and it was a series of ludicrous travesties, +from the soup to the salad. One can eat well in the country, +because the dishes are simple, and he gets the natural taste of +things; but to come to a table covered with artificial dishes, +which he has been accustomed to see in their perfection, and to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</a></span> +taste and send away everything in disgust, is a trial of temper +which is reserved for the traveller at Lyons.</p> + +<p>The scenery on the river, from Lyons to Avignon, has great +celebrity, and I had determined to take that course to the south. +Just at this moment, however, the Rhone had been pronounced +too low, and the steamboats were stopped. I probably made the +last passage by steam on the Saone, for we ran aground repeatedly, +and were compelled to wait till horses could be procured to draw +the boat into deep water. It was quite amusing to see with what +a regular, business-like air, the postillions fixed their traces to +the prow, and whipped into the middle of the river. A small +boat was my only resource, and I found a man on the quay who +plied the river in what is called <i>batteaux de poste</i>, rough shallops +with flat bottoms, which are sold for firewood on their arrival, the +rapidity of the Rhone rendering a return against the current next +to impossible. The sight of the frail contrivance in which I was +to travel nearly two hundred miles, rather startled me, but the +man assured me he had several other passengers, and two ladies +among them. I paid the <i>arrhes</i>, or earnest money, and was at +the river-stairs punctually at four the next morning.</p> + +<p>To my very sincere pleasure the two ladies were the daughters +of my polite friend and fellow passenger from Chalons. They +were already on board, and the little shallop sat deep in the water +with her freight. Besides these, there were two young French +chasseurs going home on leave of absence, a pretty Parisian dress-maker +flying from the cholera, a masculine woman, the wife of a +dragoon, and my friend the captain. We pushed out into the +current, and drifted slowly down under the bridges, without oars +the padrone quietly smoking his pipe at the helm. In a few +minutes we were below the town, and here commenced again the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">181</a></span> +cultivated and ornamented banks I had so much admired on my +approach to Lyons from the other side. The thin haze was just +stirring from the river's surface, the sunrise flush was on the sky, +the air was genial and impregnated with the smell of grass and +flowers, and the little changing landscapes, as we followed the +stream, broke upon us like a series of exquisite dioramas. The +atmosphere was like Doughty's pictures, exactly. I wished a +thousand times for that delightful artist, that he might see how +richly the old <i>chateaux</i> and their picturesque appurtenances filled +up the scene. It would have given a new turn to his pencil.</p> + +<p>We soon arrived at the junction of the rivers, and, as we +touched the rapid current of the Rhone, the little shallop yielded +to its sway, and redoubled its velocity. The sun rose clear, the +cultivation grew less and less, the hills began to look distant and +barren, and our little party became sociable in proportion. We +closed around the invalid, who sat wrapped in a cloak in the +stern, leaning on her father's shoulder, and talked of Paris and +its pleasures—a theme of which the French are never weary. +Time passed delightfully. Without being decidedly pretty, our +two Parisiennes were quiet-mannered and engaging; and the +younger one particularly, whose pale face and deeply-sunken eyes +gave her a look of melancholy interest, seemed to have thought +much, and to feel, besides, that her uncertain health gave her a +privilege of overstepping the rigid reserve of an unmarried girl. +She talks freely, and with great delicacy of expression and +manner.</p> + +<p>We ran ashore at the little village of Condrieu to breakfast. +We were assailed on stepping out of the boat by the <i>demoiselles</i> +of two or three rival <i>auberges</i>—nice-looking, black-eyed girls, in +white aprons, who seized us by the arm, and pulled each to her +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">182</a></span> +own door, with torrents of unintelligible <i>patois</i>. We left it to +the captain, who selected the best-looking leader, and we were +soon seated around a table covered with a lavish breakfast; the +butter, cheese, and wine excellent, at least. A merrier party, I +am sure, never astonished the simple people of Condrieu. The +pretty dress-maker was full of good-humor and politeness, and +delighted at the envy with which the rural belles regarded her +knowing Parisian cap; the chasseurs sang the popular songs of +the army, and joked with the maids of the <i>auberge</i>; the captain +was inexhaustibly agreeable, and the hour given us by the +padrone was soon gone. We embarked with a thousand adieus +from the pleased people, and altogether it was more like a scene +from Wilhelm Meister, than a passage from real life.</p> + +<p>The wind soon rose free and steady from the north-west, and +with a spread sail we ran past <i>Vienne</i>, at ten miles in the hour. +This was the metropolis of my old friends, "the Allobrogues," in +Cesar's Commentaries. I could not help wondering at the +feelings with which I was passing over such classic ground. The +little dress-maker was giving us an account of her fright at the +cholera, and every one in the boat was in agonies of laughter. I +looked at the guide-book to find the name of the place, and the +first glance at the word carried me back to my old school-desk at +Andover, and conjured up for a moment the redolent classic +interest with which I read the history of the land I was now +hurrying through. That a laugh with a modern <i>grisette</i> should +engross me entirely, at the moment I was traversing such a spot, +is a possibility the man may realize much more readily than the +school-boy. A new roar of merriment from my companions +plucked me back effectually from Andover to the Rhone, and I +thought no more of Gaul or its great historian. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">183</a></span></p> + +<p>We floated on during the day, passing <i>chateaux</i> and ruins +constantly; but finding the country barren and rocky to a dismal +degree, I can not well imagine how the Rhone has acquired its +reputation for beauty. It has been sung by the poets more than +any other river in France, and the various epithets that have +been applied to it have become so common, that you can not +mention it without their rising to your lips; but the Saone and +the Seine are incomparably more lovely, and I am told the +valleys of the Loire are the most beautiful part of France. +From its junction with the Saone to the Mediterranean, the +Rhone is one stretch of barrenness.</p> + +<p>We passed a picturesque chateau, built very widely on a rock +washed by the river, called "<i>La Roche de Glun</i>," and twilight +soon after fell, closing in our view to all but the river edge. The +wind died away, but the stars were bright and the air mild; and, +quite fatigued to silence, our little party leaned on the sides of +the boat, and waited till the current should float us down to our +resting-place for the night. We reached <i>Valence</i> at ten, and with +a merry dinner and supper in one, which kept us up till after +midnight, we got to our coarse but clean beds, and slept soundly.</p> + +<p>The following forenoon we ran under the <i>Pont St. Esprit</i>, an +experiment the guide-book calls very dangerous. The Rhone is +rapid and noisy here, and we shot under the arches of the fine old +structure with great velocity; but the "Rapids of the St. +Lawrence" are passed constantly without apprehension by +travellers in America, and those of the Rhone are a mere millrace +in comparison. We breakfasted just below, at a village +where we could scarce understand a syllable, the <i>patois</i> was so +decided, and at sunset we were far down between the provinces +of <i>Dauphiny</i> and <i>Languedoc</i>, with the villages growing thicker +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">184</a></span> +and greener, and a high mountain within ten or fifteen miles, +covered with snow nearly to the base. We stopped opposite the +old castle of <i>Rocheméuse</i> to pay the <i>droit</i>. It was a <i>demi-fete</i> +day, and the inhabitants of a village back from the river had +come out to the green bank in their holyday costume for a revel. +The bank swelled up from the stream to a pretty wood, and the +green sward between was covered with these gay people, arrested +in their amusements by our arrival. We jumped out for a +moment, and I walked up the bank and endeavored to make the +acquaintance of a strikingly handsome woman about thirty, but +the <i>patois</i> was quite too much. After several vain attempts to +understand each other, she laughed and turned on her heel, and +I followed the call of the padrone to the batteau. For five or six +miles below, the river passed through a kind of meadow, and an +air more loaded with fragrance I never breathed. The sun was +just down, and with the mildness of the air, and quiet glide of +the boat on the water, it was quite enchanting. Conversation +died away, and I went forward and lay down in the bow alone, +with a fit of desperate musing. It is as singular as it is certain, +that the more one enjoys the loveliness of a foreign land, the +more he feels how absolutely his heart is at home in his own +country. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXV.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +INFLUENCE OF A BOATMAN—THE TOWN OF ARLES—ROMAN RUINS—THE +CATHEDRAL—MARSEILLES—THE PASS OF OLLIOULES—THE +VINEYARDS—TOULON—ANTIBES—LAZARETTO—VILLA FRANCA, +ETC.</p> + +<p>I entered Avignon after a delicious hour on the Rhone, quite +in the mood to do poetical homage to its associations. My +dreams of Petrarch and Vaucluse were interrupted by a scene +between my friend the captain, and a stout boatman, who had +brought his baggage from the batteau. The result was an appeal +to the mayor, who took the captain aside after the matter was +argued, and told him in his ear that he must compromise the +matter, for he <i>dared not give a judgment in his favor</i>! The +man had demanded <i>twelve</i> francs where the regulations allowed +him but <i>one</i>, and palpable as the imposition was, the magistrate +refused to interfere. The captain curled his mustache and +walked the room in a terrible passion, and the boatman, an +herculean fellow, eyed him with a look of assurance which quite +astonished me. After the case was settled, I asked an explanation +of the mayor. He told me frankly, that the fellow belonged +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">186</a></span> +to a powerful class of men of the lowest description, who, having +declared first for the present government, were and would be +supported by it in almost any question where favor could be +shown—that all the other classes of inhabitants were malcontents, +and that, between positive strength and royal favor, the +boatmen and their party had become too powerful even for the +ordinary enforcement of the law.</p> + +<p>The following day was so sultry and warm, that I gave up all +idea of a visit to Vaucluse. We spent the morning under the +trees which stand before the door of the <i>café</i> in the village +square, and at noon we took the steamboat upon the Rhone for +<i>Arles</i>. An hour or two brought us to this ancient town, where +we were compelled to wait till the next day, the larger boat +which goes hence by the mouths of the Rhone to Marseilles, +being out of order.</p> + +<p>We left our baggage in the boat, and I walked up with the +captain to see the town. An officer whom we addressed for +information on the quay politely offered to be our guide, and we +passed three or four hours rambling about, with great pleasure. +Our first object was the Roman ruins, for which the town is +celebrated. We traversed several streets, so narrow, that the +old time-worn houses on either side seemed to touch at the top, +and in the midst of a desolate and poverty-stricken neighborhood, +we came suddenly upon a noble Roman amphitheatre of gigantic +dimensions, and sufficiently preserved to be a picturesque ruin. +It was built on the terrace of a hill, overlooking the Rhone. +From the towers of the gateway, the view across the river into +the lovely province of Languedoc, is very extensive. The arena +is an excavation of perhaps thirty feet in depth, and the rows of +seats, all built of vast blocks of stone, stretch round it in retreating +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">187</a></span> +and rising platforms to the surface of the hill. The lower +story is surrounded with dens; and the upper terrace is enclosed +with a circle of small apartments, like boxes in a theatre, opening +by handsome arches upon the scene. It is the ruin of a noble +structure, and, even without the help of the imagination, exceedingly +impressive. It seems to be at present turned into a +play-ground. The dens and cavities were full of black-eyed and +happy creatures, hiding and hallooing with all the delightful spirit +and gayety of French children. Probably it was never appropriated +to a better use.</p> + +<p>We entered the cathedral in returning. It is an antique, and +considered a very fine one. The twilight was just falling; +and the candles burning upon the altar, had a faint, dull glare, +making the dimness of the air more perceptible. I walked up +the long aisle to the side chapel, without observing that my +companions had left me, and, quite tired with my walk, seated +myself against one of the Gothic pillars, enjoying the quiet of the +place, and the momentary relief from exciting objects. It struck +me presently that there was a dead silence in the church, and, as +much to hear the sound of English as for any better motive, I +approached the priest's missal, which lay open on a stand near +me, and commenced translating a familiar psalm aloud. My +voice echoed through the building with a fullness which startled +me, and looking over my shoulder, I saw that a simple, poor old +woman was kneeling in the centre of the church, praying alone. +She had looked up at my interruption of the silence of the place, +but her beads still slipped slowly through her fingers, and, feeling +that I was intruding possibly between a sincere worshipper and +her Maker, I withdrew to the side aisle, and made my way softly +out of the cathedral. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">188</a></span></p> + +<p>Arles appears to have modernized less than any town I have +seen in France. The streets and the inhabitants look as if they +had not changed for a century. The dress of the women is +very peculiar; the waist of the gown coming up to a point +behind, between the shoulder blades, and consequently very short +in front, and the high cap bound to the head with broad velvet +ribands, suffering nothing but the jet black curls to escape over +the forehead. As a class, they are the handsomest women I have +seen. Nothing could be prettier than the small-featured lively +brunettes we saw sitting on the stone benches at every door.</p> + +<p>We ran down the next morning, in a few hours to Marseilles. +It was a cloudy, misty day, and I did not enjoy, as I expected, +the first view of the Mediterranean from the mouths of the +Rhone. We put quite out into the swell of the sea, and the passengers +were all strewn on the deck in the various gradations of +sickness. My friend the captain, and myself, had the only constant +stomachs on board. I was very happy to distinguish Marseilles +through the mist, and as we approached nearer, the rocky +harbor and the islands of <i>Chateau d'If</i> and <i>Pomègue</i>, with the +fortress at the mouth of the harbor, came out gradually from the +mist, and the view opened to a noble amphitheatre of rocky +mountains, in whose bosom lies Marseilles at the edge of the sea. +We ran into the narrow cove which forms the inner harbor, passing +an American ship, the "William Penn," just arrived from +Philadelphia, and lying in quarantine. My blood started at the +sight of the starred flag; and as we passed closer and I read the +name upon her stern, a thousand recollections of that delightful +city sprang to my heart, and I leaned over to her from the boat's +side, with a feeling of interest and pleasure to which the foreign +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">189</a></span> +tongue that called me to bid adieu to newer friends, seemed an +unwelcome interruption.</p> + +<p>I parted from my pleasant Parisian friend and his family, however, +with real regret. They were polite and refined, and had +given me their intimacy voluntarily and without reserve. I +shook hands with them on the quay, and wished the pale and +quiet invalid better health, with more of feeling than is common +with acquaintances of a day. I believe them kind and sincere, +and I have not found these qualities growing so thickly in the +world that I can thrust aside anything that resembles them, with +a willing mistrust.</p> + +<p>The quay of Marseilles is one of the most varied scenes to be +met with in Europe. Vessels of all nations come trading to its +port, and nearly every costume in the world may be seen in its +busy crowds. I was surprised at the number of Greeks. Their +picturesque dresses and dark fine faces meet you at every step, +and it would be difficult, if it were not for the shrinking eye, to +believe them capable of an ignoble thought. The mould of the +race is one for heroes, but if all that is said of them be true, the +blood has become impure. Of the two or three hundred I must +have seen at Marseilles, I scarce remember one whose countenance +would not have been thought remarkable.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I have remained six days in Marseilles by the advice of the +Sardinian consul, who assured me that so long a residence in the +south of France, is necessary to escape quarantine for the +cholera, at the ports or on the frontiers of Italy. I have obtained +his certificate to-day, and depart to-morrow for Nice. My forced +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">190</a></span> +<i>sejour</i> here has been far from an amusing or a willing one. The +"<i>mistral</i>" has blown chilly and with suffocating dryness, so that +I have scarce breathed freely since I entered the town, and the +streets, though handsomely laid out and built, are intolerable from +the dust. The sun scorches your skin to a blister, and the wind +chills your blood to the bone. There are beautiful public walks, +which, at the more moist seasons, must be delightful, but at +present the leaves on the trees are all white, and you cannot keep +your eyes open long enough to see from one end of the promenade +to the other. Within doors, it is true, I have found +everything which could compensate for such evils; and I shall +carry away pleasant recollections of the hospitality of the Messrs. +Fitch, and others of my countrymen, living here—gentlemen +whose courtesies are well-remembered by every American +traveller through the south of France.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I sank into the corner of the <i>coupé</i> of the diligence for Toulon, +at nine o'clock in the evening, and awoke with the gray of the +dawn at the entrance of the pass of <i>Ollioules</i>, one of the wildest +defiles I ever saw. The gorge is the bed of a winter torrent, +and you travel three miles or more between two mountains seemingly +cleft asunder, on a road cut out a little above the stream, +with naked rock to the height of two or three hundred feet +almost perpendicularly above you. Nothing could be more bare +and desolate than the whole pass, and nothing could be richer +or more delightfully cultivated than the low valleys upon which it +opens. It is some four or five miles hence to Toulon, and we +traversed the road by sunrise, the soft, gray light creeping through +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">191</a></span> +the olive and orange trees with which the fields are laden, and the +peasants just coming out to their early labor. You see no brute +animal here except the mule; and every countryman you meet +is accompanied by one of these serviceable little creatures, often +quite hidden from sight by the enormous load he carries, or +pacing patiently along with a master on his back, who is by far +the larger of the two.</p> + +<p>The vineyards begin to look delightfully; for the thick black +stump which was visible over the fields I have hitherto passed, is +in these warm valleys covered already with masses of luxuriant +vine leaves, and the hill sides are lovely with the light and tender +verdure. I saw here for the first time, the olive and date trees +in perfection. They grow in vast orchards planted regularly, and +the olive resembles closely the willow, and reaches about the +same height and shape. The leaves are as slender but not quite +so long, and the color is more dusky, like the bloom upon a +grape. Indeed, at a short distance, the whole tree looks like a +mass of untouched fruit.</p> + +<p>I was agreeably disappointed in Toulon. It is a rural town +with a harbor—not the dirty seaport one naturally expects to find +it. The streets are the cleanest I have seen in France, some of +them lined with trees, and the fountains all over it freshen the +eye delightfully. We had an hour to spare, and with Mr. Doyle, +an Irish gentleman, who had been my travelling companion, since +I parted with my friend the Swiss, I made the circuit of the +quays. They were covered with French naval officers and +soldiers, promenading and conversing in the lively manner of +this gayest of nations. A handsome child, of perhaps six years, +was selling roses at one of the corners, and for a <i>sous</i>, all she +demanded, I bought six of the most superb damask buds just +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">192</a></span> +breaking into flower. They were the first I had seen from the +open air since I left America, and I have not often purchased so +much pleasure with a copper coin.</p> + +<p>Toulon was interesting to me as the place where Napoleon's +career began. The fortifications are very imposing. We passed +out of the town over the draw-bridge, and were again in the +midst of a lovely landscape, with an air of bland and exhilarating +softness, and everything that could delight the eye. The road +runs along the shore of the Mediterranean, and the fields are +green to the water edge.</p> + +<p>We arrived at Antibes to-day at noon, within fifteen miles of +the frontier of Sardinia. We have run through most of the +south of France, and have found it all like a garden. The thing +most like it in our country is the neighborhood of Boston, +particularly the undulated country about Brookline and Dorchester. +Remove all the stone fences from that sweet country, put +here and there an old chateau on an eminence, and change the +pretty white mock cottages of gentlemen, for the real stone +cottages of peasantry, and you have a fair picture of the scenery +of this celebrated shore. The Mediterranean should be added +as a distance, with its exquisite blue, equalled by nothing but an +American sky in a July noon—its crowds of sail, of every shape +and nation, and the Alps in the horizon crested with snow, like +clouds half touched by the sun. It is really a delicious climate. +Out of the scorching sun the air is bracing and cool; and though +my ears have been blistered in walking up the hills in a travelling +cap, I have scarcely experienced an uncomfortable sensation of +heat, and this in my winter dress, with flannels and a surtout, as +I have worn them for the six months past in Paris. The air +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">193</a></span> +could not be tempered more accurately for enjoyment. I regret +to go in doors. I regret to sleep it away.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p><i>Antibes</i> was fortified by the celebrated <i>Vauban</i>, and it looks +impregnable enough to my unscientific eye. If the portcullises +were drawn up, I would not undertake to get into the town with +the full consent of the inhabitants. We walked around the +ramparts which are washed by the Mediterranean, and got an +appetite in the sea-breeze, which we would willingly have +dispensed with. I dislike to abuse people, but I must say that +the <i>cuisine</i> of Madame Agarra, at the "Gold Eagle," is rather +the worst I have fallen upon in my travels. Her price, as is +usual in France, was proportionably exorbitant. My Irish friend, +who is one of the most religious gentlemen of his country I ever +met, came as near getting into a passion with his supper and bill, +as was possible for a temper so well disciplined. For myself, +having acquired only polite French, I can but "look daggers" +when I am abused. We depart presently for <i>Nice</i>, in a ricketty +barouche, with post-horses, the <i>courier</i>, or post-coach, going no +farther. It is a roomy old affair, that has had pretensions to +style some time since Henri Quatre, but the arms on its panels +are illegible now, and the ambitious driving-box is occupied by +the humble materials to remedy a probable break-down by the +way. The postillion is cracking his whip impatiently, my friend +has called me twice, and I must put up my pencil. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">194</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Antibes</i> again! We have returned here after an unsuccessful +attempt to enter the Sardinian dominions. We were on the road +by ten in the morning, and drove slowly along the shores of the +Mediterranean, enjoying to the utmost the heavenly weather and +the glorious scenery about us. The driver pointed out to us a +few miles from Antibes, the very spot on which Napoleon landed +on his return from Elba, and the tree, a fine old olive, under +which he slept three hours, before commencing his march. We +arrived at the <i>Pont de Var</i> about one, and crossed the river, but +here we were met by a guard of Sardinian soldiers, and our +passports were demanded. The commissary came from the +guard-house with a long pair of tongs, and receiving them open, +read them at the longest possible distance. They were then +handed back to us in the same manner, and we were told we +could not pass. We then handed him our certificates of quarantine +at Marseilles; but were told it availed nothing, a new +order having arrived from Turin that very morning, to admit no +travellers from infected or suspected places across the frontier. +We asked if there were no means by which we could pass; but +the commissary only shook his head, ordered us not to dismount +on the Sardinian side of the river, and shut his door. We +turned about and recrossed the bridge in some perplexity. The +French commissary at St. Laurent, the opposite village, received +us with a suppressed smile, and informed us that several parties +of travellers, among others an English gentleman and his wife +and sister, were at the <i>auberge</i>, waiting for an answer from the +Prefect of Nice, having been turned back in the same manner +since morning. We drove up, and they advised us to send our +passports by the postillion, with a letter to the consuls of our +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">195</a></span> +respective nations, requesting information, which we did immediately.</p> + +<p>Nice is three miles from St. Laurent, and as we could not +expect an answer for several hours, we amused ourselves with a +stroll along the banks of the Var to the Mediterranean. The +Sardinian side is bold, and wooded to the tops of the hills very +richly. We kept along a mile or more through the vineyards, +and returned in time to receive a letter from the American consul, +confirming the orders of the commissary, but advising us to +return to Antibes, and sail thence for Villa Franca, a lazaretto +in the neighborhood of Nice, whence we could enter Italy, after +<i>seven days quarantine</i>! By this time several travelling-carriages +had collected, and all, profiting by our experience, turned back +together. We are now at the "Gold Eagle," deliberating. +Some have determined to give up their object altogether, but the +rest of us sail to-morrow morning in a fishing-boat for the +lazaretto.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lazaretto, Villa Franca.</span>—There were but eight of the +twenty or thirty travellers stopped at the bridge who thought it +worth while to persevere. We are all here in this pest-house, and +a motley mixture of nations it is. There are two young Sicilians +returning from college to Messina; a Belgian lad of seventeen, +just started on his travels; two aristocratic young Frenchmen, +very elegant and very ignorant of the world, running down to +Italy in their own carriage, to avoid the cholera; a middle-aged +surgeon in the British navy, very cool and very gentlemanly; a +vulgar Marseilles trader, and myself. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">196</a></span></p> + +<p>We were from seven in the morning till two, getting away from +Antibes. Our difficulties during the whole day are such a practical +comparison of the freedom of European states and ours, that +I may as well detail them.</p> + +<p>First of all, our passports were to be vised by the police. We +were compelled to stand an hour with our hats off, in a close, +dirty office, waiting our turn for this favor. The next thing was +to get the permission of the prefect of the <i>marine</i> to embark; and +this occupied another hour. Thence we were taken to the +health-office, where a <i>bill of health</i> was made out for eight persons +<i>going to a lazaretto</i>! The padrone's freight duties were then +to be settled, and we went back and forth between the Sardinian +consul and the French, disputing these for another hour or more. +Our baggage was piled upon the <i>charrette</i>, at last, to be taken to +the boat. The quay is outside the gate, and here are stationed +the <i>douanes</i>, or custom-officers, who ordered our trunks to be +taken from the cart, and searched them from top to bottom. +After a half hour spent in repacking our effects in the open street, +amid a crowd of idle spectators, we were suffered to proceed. +Almost all these various gentlemen expect a fee, and some demand +a heavy one; and all this trouble and expense of time and +money to make a voyage of <i>fifteen miles in a fishing-boat</i>!</p> + +<p>We hoisted the fisherman's latteen sail, and put out of the little +harbor in very bad temper. The wind was fair, and we ran along +the shore for a couple of hours, till we came to Nice, where we +were to stop for permission to go to the lazaretto. We were +hailed, off the mole, with a trumpet, and suffered to pass. +Doubling a little point, half a mile farther on, we ran into the +bay of Villa Franca, a handful of houses at the base of an +amphitheatre of mountains. A little round tower stood in the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">197</a></span> +centre of the harbor, built upon a rock, and connected with the +town by a draw-bridge, and we were landed at a staircase outside, +by which we mounted to show our papers to the health-officer. +The interior was a little circular yard, separated from an office on +the town side by an iron grating, and looking out on the sea by +two embrasures for cannon. Two strips of water and the sky +above was our whole prospect for the hour that we waited here. +The cause of the delay was presently explained by clouds of +smoke issuing from the interior. The tower filled, and a more +nauseating odor I never inhaled. We were near suffocating with +the intolerable smell, and the quantity of smoke deemed necessary +to secure his majesty's officers against contagion.</p> + +<p>A cautious-looking old gentleman, with gray hair, emerged at +last from the smoke, with a long cane-pole in his hand, and, +coughing at every syllable, requested us to insert our passports +in the split at the extremity, which he thrust through the gate. +This being done, we asked him for bread. We had breakfasted +at seven, and it was now sundown—near twelve hours fast. +Several of my companions had been seasick with the swell of the +Mediterranean, in coming from Antibes, and all were faint with +hunger and exhaustion. For myself, the villainous smell of our +purification had made me sick, and I had no appetite; but the +rest ate very voraciously of a loaf of coarse bread, which was +extended to us with a tongs and two pieces of paper.</p> + +<p>After reading our passports, the magistrate informed us that +he had no orders to admit us to the lazaretto, and we must lie in +our boat till he could send a messenger to Nice with our passports +and obtain permission. We opened upon him, however, with such +a flood of remonstrance, and with such an emphasis from hunger +and fatigue, that he consented to admit us temporarily on his own +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">198</a></span> +responsibility, and gave the boatmen orders to row back to a long, +low stone building, which we had observed at the foot of a precipice +at the entrance to the harbor.</p> + +<p>He was there before us, and as we mounted the stone ladder +he pointed through the bars of a large inner gate to a single +chamber, separated from the rest of the building, and promising +to send us something to eat in the course of the evening, left us +to take possession. Our position was desolate enough. The +building was new, and the plaster still soft and wet. There was +not an article of furniture in the chamber, and but a single window; +the floor was of brick, and the air as damp within as a cellar. +The alternative was to remain out of doors, in the small yard, +walled up thirty feet on three sides, and washed by the sea on +the other; and here, on a long block of granite, the softest thing +I could find, I determined to make an <i>al fresco</i> night of it.</p> + +<p>Bread, cheese, wine, and cold meat, seethed, Italian fashion, in +nauseous oil, arrived about nine o'clock; and, by the light of a +candle standing in a boot, we sat around on the brick floor, and +supped very merrily. Hunger had brought even our two French +exquisites to their fare, and they ate well. The navy surgeon +had seen service, and had no qualms; the Sicilians were from a +German university, and were not delicate; the Marseilles trader +knew no better; and we should have been less contented with a +better meal. It was superfluous to abuse it.</p> + +<p>A steep precipice hangs immediately over the lazaretto, and +the horn of the half moon was just dipping below it, as I +stretched myself to sleep. With a folded coat under me, and a +carpet-bag for a pillow, I soon fell asleep, and slept soundly till +sunrise. My companions had chosen shelter, but all were happy +to be early risers. We mounted our wall upon the sea, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">199</a></span> +promenaded till the sun was broadly up, and the breeze from the +Mediterranean sharpened our appetites, and then finishing the +relics of our supper, we waited with what patience we might the +appearance of our breakfast.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>The magistrate arrived at twelve, yesterday, with a commissary +from Villa Franca, who is to be our victualler during the quarantine. +He has enlarged our limits, by a stone staircase and an +immense chamber, on condition that we pay for an extra guard, +in the shape of a Sardinian soldier, who is to sleep in our room, +and eat at our table. By the way, we <i>have</i> a table, and four +rough benches, and these, with three single mattresses, are all +the furniture we can procure. We are compelled to sleep <i>across</i> +the latter of course, to give every one his share.</p> + +<p>We have come down very contentedly to our situation, and I +have been exceedingly amused at the facility with which eight +such different tempers can amalgamate, upon compulsion. Our +small quarters bring us in contact continually, and we harmonize +like schoolboys. At this moment the Marseilles trader and the +two Frenchmen are throwing stones at something that is floating +out with the tide; the surgeon has dropped his Italian grammar +to decide upon which is the best shot; the Belgian is fishing off +the wall, with a pin hook and a bit of cheese; and the two +Sicilians are talking <i>lingua franca</i>, at the top of their voices, to +Carolina, the guardian's daughter, who stands coquetting on the +pier just outside the limits. I have got out my books and portfolio, +and taken possession of the broad stair, depending on the +courtesy of my companions to jump over me and my papers when +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">200</a></span> +they go up and down. I sit here most of the day laughing at the +fun below, and writing or reading alternately. The climate is +too delicious for discontent. Every breath is a pleasure. The +hills of the amphitheatre opposite to us are covered with olive, +lemon, and orange trees; and in the evening, from the time +the land breeze commences to blow off shore until ten or eleven, +the air is impregnated with the delicate perfume of the orange-blossom, +than which nothing could be more grateful. Nice is +called the hospital of Europe; and truly, under this divine sky, +and with the inspiriting vitality and softness of the air, and all that +nature can lavish of luxuriance and variety upon the hills, it is +the place, if there is one in the world, where the drooping spirit +of the invalid must revive and renew. At this moment the sun +has crept from the peak of the highest mountain across the bay, +and we shall scent presently the spicy wind from the shore. I +close my book to go upon the wall, which I see the surgeon has +mounted already with the same object, to catch the first breath +that blows seaward.</p> + +<p>It is Sunday, and an Italian summer morning. I do not think +my eyes ever woke upon so lovely a day. The long, lazy swell +comes in from the Mediterranean as smooth as glass; the sails of +a beautiful yacht, belonging to an English nobleman at Nice, +and lying becalmed just now in the bay, are hanging motionless +about the masts; the sky is without a speck, the air just seems to +me to steep every nerve and fibre of the frame with repose and +pleasure. Now and then in America I have felt a June morning +that approached it, but never the degree, the fulness, the sunny +softness of this exquisite clime. It tranquilizes the mind as well +as the body. You cannot resist feeling contented and genial. +We are all out of doors, and my companions have brought down +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">201</a></span> +their mattresses, and are lying along the shade of the east wall, +talking quietly and pleasantly; the usual sounds of the workmen +on the quays of the town are still, our harbor-guard lies asleep in +his boat, the yellow flag of the lazaretto clings to the staff, +everything about us breathes tranquillity. Prisoner as I am, I +would not stir willingly to-day.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>We have had two new arrivals this morning—a boat from +Antibes, with a company of players bound for the theatre at +Milan; and two French deserters from the regiment at Toulon, +who escaped in a leaky boat, and have made this voyage along +the coast to get into Italy. They knew nothing of the quarantine, +and were very much surprised at their arrest. They will, +probably, be delivered up to the French consul. The new +comers are all put together in the large chamber next us, and we +have been talking with them through the grate. His majesty of +Sardinia is not spared in their voluble denunciations.</p> + +<p>Our imprisonment is getting to be a little tedious. We +lengthen our breakfasts and dinners, go to sleep early and get up +late, but a lazaretto is a dull place after all. We have no books +except dictionaries and grammars, and I am on my last sheet of +paper. What I shall do, the two remaining days, I cannot +divine. Our meals were amusing for a while. We have but +three knives and four glasses; and the Belgian, having cut his +plate in two on the first day, has eaten since from the wash-bowl. +The salt is in a brown paper, the vinegar in a shell; and the +meats, to be kept warm during their passage by water, are +brought in the black utensils in which they are cooked. Our +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</a></span> +tablecloth appeared to-day of all the colors of the rainbow. We sat +down to breakfast with a general cry of horror. Still, with +youth and good spirits, we manage to be more contented than +one would expect; and our lively discussions of the spot on the +quay where the table shall be laid, and the noise of our dinners <i>en +plein air</i>, would convince the spectator that we were a very merry +and sufficiently happy company.</p> + +<p>I like my companions, on the whole, very much. The surgeon +has been in Canada and the west of New York, and we have +travelled the same routes, and made in several instances, the +same acquaintances. He has been in almost every part of the +world also, and his descriptions are very graphic and sensible. +The Belgian talks of his new king Leopold, the Sicilians of the +German universities; and when I have exhausted all they can tell +me, I turn to our Parisians, whom I find I have met all last +winter without noticing them, at the parties; and we discuss the +belles, and the different members of the <i>beau monde</i>, with all the +touching air and tone of exiles from paradise. In a case of +desperate ennui, wearied with studying and talking, the sea wall +is a delightful lounge, and the blue Mediterranean plays the witch +to the indolent fancy, and beguiles it well. I have never seen +such a beautiful sheet of water. The color is peculiarly rich and +clear, like an intensely blue sky, heaving into waves. I do not +find the often-repeated description of its loveliness exaggerated.</p> + +<p>Our seven days expire to-morrow, and we are preparing to eat +our last dinner in the lazaretto with great glee. A temporary +table is already laid upon the quay, and two strips of board raised +upon some ingenious contrivance, I can not well say what, and +covered with all the private and public napkins that retained any +portion of their maiden whiteness. Our knives are reduced to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">203</a></span> +two, one having disappeared unaccountably; but the deficiency +is partially remedied. The surgeon has "whittled" a +pine knot, which floated in upon the tide, into a distant imitation; +and one of the company has produced a delicate dagger, that +looks very like a keepsake from a lady; and, by the reluctant +manner in which it was put to service, the profanation cost his +sentiment an effort. Its white handle and silver sheath lie across +a plate, abridged of its proportions by a very formidable segment. +There was no disguising the poverty of the brown paper that +contained the salt. It was too necessary to be made an "aside," +and lies plump in the middle of the table. I fear there has been +more fun in the preparation than we shall feel in eating the +dinner when it arrives. The Belgian stands on the wall, +watching all the boats from town; but they pass off down the +harbor, one after another, and we are destined to keep our +appetites to a late hour. Their detestable cookery needs the +"sauce of hunger."</p> + +<p>The Belgian's hat waves in the air, and the commissary's boat +must be in sight. As we get off at six o'clock to-morrow +morning, my portfolio shuts till I find another resting place, +probably Genoa. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXVI.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +SHORE OF THE MEDITERRANEAN—NICE—FUNERAL SERVICES OF +MARIA THERESA, ARCHDUCHESS OF AUSTRIA—PRINCIPALITY OF +MONACO—ROAD TO GENOA—SARDINIA—PRISON OF THE POPE—HOUSE +OF COLUMBUS—GENOA.</p> + +<p>The health-magistrate arrived at an early hour, on the morning +of our departure from the lazaretto of Villa Franca. He was +accompanied by a physician, who was to direct the fumigation. +The iron pot was placed in the centre of the chamber, our clothes +were spread out upon the beds, and the windows shut. The +<i>chlorin</i> soon filled the room, and its detestable odor became so +intolerable that we forced the door, and rushed past the sentinel +into the open air, nearly suffocated. This farce over, we were +permitted to embark, and, rounding the point, put into Nice.</p> + +<p>The Mediterranean curves gracefully into the crescented shore +of this lovely bay, and the high hills lean away from the skirts of +the town in one unbroken slope of cultivation to the top. Large, +handsome buildings face you on the long quay, as you approach; +and white chimneys, and half-concealed parts of country-houses +and suburban villas, appear through the olive and orange trees +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</a></span> +with which the whole amphitheatre is covered. We landed amid +a crowd of half-naked idlers, and were soon at a hotel, where we +ordered the best breakfast the town would afford, and sat down +once more to clean cloths and unrepulsive food.</p> + +<p>As we rose from the table, a note, edged with black, and +sealed and enveloped with considerable circumstance, was put +into my hand by the master of the hotel. It was an invitation +from the governor to attend a funeral service, to be performed in +the cathedral that day, at ten o'clock, for the "late Queen-mother, +Maria Theresa, Archduchess of Austria." Wondering +not a little how I came by the honor, I joined the crowd flocking +from all parts of the town to see the ceremony. The central +door was guarded by a file of Sardinian soldiers; and, presenting +my invitation to the officer on duty, I was handed over to the +master of ceremonies, and shown to an excellent seat in the +centre of the church. The windows were darkened, and the +candles of the altar not yet lit; and, by the indistinct light that +came in through the door, I could distinguish nothing clearly. +A little silver bell tinkled presently from one of the side-chapels, +and boys dressed in white appeared, with long tapers, and the +house was soon splendidly illuminated. I found myself in the +midst of a crowd of four or five hundred ladies, all in deep +mourning. The church was hung from the floor to the roof in +black cloth, ornamented gorgeously with silver; and, under the +large dome, which occupied half the ceiling, was raised a +pyramidal altar, with tripods supporting chalices for incense at +the four corners, a walk round the lower base for the priests, and +something in the centre, surrounded with a blaze of light, +representing figures weeping over a tomb. The organ commenced +pealing, there was a single beat on the drum, and a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">206</a></span> +procession entered. It was composed of the nobility of Nice, +and the military and civil officers, all in uniform and court +dresses. The gold and silver flashing in the light, the tall +plumes of the Sardinian soldiery below, the solemn music, and +the moving of the censers from the four corners of the altar, +produced a very impressive effect. As soon as the procession +had quite entered, the fire was kindled in the four chalices; and, +as the white smoke rolled up to the roof, an anthem commenced +with the full power of the organ. The singing was admirable, +and there was one female voice in the choir, of singular power +and sweetness.</p> + +<p>The remainder of the service was the usual ceremonies of the +Catholic church, and I amused myself with observing the people +about me. It was little like a scene of mourning. The officers +gradually edged in between the seats, and every woman with the +least pretension to prettiness was engaged in anything but her +prayers for the soul of the late Archduchess. Some of these, the +very young girls, were pretty; and the women, of thirty-five or +forty apparently, were fine-looking; but, except a decided air of +style and rank, the fairly grown-up belles seemed to me of very +small attraction.</p> + +<p>I saw little else in Nice to interest me. I wandered about +with my friend the surgeon, laughing at the ridiculous figures and +villainous uniforms of the Sardinian infantry, and repelling the +beggars, who radiated to us from every corner; and, having +traversed the terrace of a mile on the tops of the houses next the +sea, unravelled all the lanes of the old town, and admired all the +splendor of the new, we dined and got early to bed, anxious to +sleep once more between sheets, and prepare for an early start on +the following morning.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">207</a></span></p> + +<p>We were on the road to Genoa with the first gray of the dawn: +the surgeon, a French officer, and myself, three passengers of +a courier barouche. We were climbing up mountains and sliding +down with locked wheels for several hours, by a road edging on +precipices, and overhung by tremendous rocks, and, descending at +last to the sea-level, we entered <i>Mentone</i>, a town of the little +principality of <i>Monaco</i>. Having paid our twenty sous tribute to +this prince of a territory not larger than a Kentucky farm, we +were suffered to cross his borders once more into Sardinia, having +posted through a whole State in less than half an hour.</p> + +<p>It is impossible to conceive a route of more grandeur than the +famous road along the Mediterranean from Nice to Genoa. It is +near a hundred and fifty miles, over the edges of mountains +bordering the sea for the whole distance. The road is cut into +the sides of the precipice, often hundreds of feet perpendicular +above the surf, descending sometimes into the ravines formed by +the numerous rivers that cut their way to the sea, and mounting +immediately again to the loftiest summits. It is a dizzy business, +from beginning to end. There is no parapet, usually, and there +are thousands of places where half a "shie" by a timid horse, +would drop you at once some hundred fathoms upon rocks wet by +the spray of every sea that breaks upon the shore. The loveliest +little nests of valleys lie between that can be conceived. You +will see a green spot, miles below you in turning the face of a +rock; and right in the midst, like a handful of plaster models on +a carpet, a cluster of houses, lying quietly in the warm southern +exposure, embosomed in everything refreshing to the eye, the +mountain sides cultivated in a large circle around, and the ruins +of an old castle to a certainty on the eminence above. You +descend and descend, and wind into the curves of the shore, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</a></span> +losing and regaining sight of it constantly, till, entering a gate on +the sea-level, you find yourself in a filthy, narrow, half-whitewashed +town, with a population of beggars, priests, and soldiers; +not a respectable citizen to be seen from one end to the other, +nor a clean woman, nor a decent house. It is so, all through +Sardinia. The towns from a distance lie in the most exquisitely-chosen +spots possible. A river comes down from the hills and +washes the wall; the uplands above are always of the very +choicest shelter and exposure. You would think man and +nature had conspired to complete its convenience and beauty; +yet, within, all is misery, dirt, and superstition. Every corner +has a cross—every bench a priest, idling in the sun—every door +a picture of the Virgin. You are delighted to emerge once +more, and get up a mountain to the fresh air.</p> + +<p>As we got farther on toward Genoa, the valleys became longer +by the sea, and the road ran through gardens, down to the very +beach, of great richness and beauty. It was new to me to travel +for hours among groves of orange and lemon trees, laden with +both fruit and flower, the ground beneath covered with the +windfalls, like an American apple-orchard. I never saw such a +profusion of fruit. The trees were breaking under the rich +yellow clusters. Among other things, there were hundreds of +tall palms, spreading out their broad fans in the sun, apparently +perfectly strong and at home under this warm sky. They are +cultivated as ornaments for the churches on sacred days.</p> + +<p>I caught some half dozen views on the way that I shall never +get out of my memory. At one place particularly, I think near +Fenale, we ran round the corner of a precipice by a road cut +right into the face of a rock, two hundred feet at least above the +sea; and a long view burst upon us at once of a sweet green +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">209</a></span> +valley, stretching back into the mountains as far as the eye could +go, with three or four small towns, with their white churches, just +checkering the broad sweeps of verdure, a rapid river winding +through its bosom, and a back ground of the Piedmontese Alps, +with clouds half-way up their sides, and snow glittering in the sun +on their summits. Language cannot describe these scenes. It is +but a repetition of epithets to attempt it. You must come and +see them to feel how much one loses to live always at home, and +<i>read</i> of such things only.</p> + +<p>The <i>courier</i> pointed out to us the place in which Napoleon +imprisoned the Pope of Rome—a low house, surrounded with a +wall close upon the sea—and the house a few miles from Genoa, +believed to have been that of Columbus.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>We entered Genoa an hour after sunrise, by a noble gate, +placed at the western extremity of the crescented harbor. +Thence to the centre of the city was one continued succession +of sumptuous palaces. We drove rapidly along the smooth, +beautifully paved streets, and my astonishment was unbroken +till we were set down at the hotel. Congratulating ourselves on +the hindrances which had conspired to bring us here against our +will, we took coffee, and went to bed for a few hours, fatigued +with a journey more wearisome to the body than the mind.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I have spent two days in merely wandering about Genoa, +looking at the exterior of the city. It is a group of hills, piled +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">210</a></span> +with princely palaces. I scarce know how to commence a +description of it. If there were but one of these splendid +edifices, or if I could isolate a single palace, and describe it to +you minutely, it would be easy to convey an impression of the +surprise and pleasure of a stranger in Genoa. The whole city, to +use the expression of a French guide-book, "<i>respire la magnificence</i>"—breathes +of splendor! The grand street, in which +most of the palaces stand, winds around the foot of a high hill; +and the gardens and terraces are piled back, with palaces above +them; and gardens, and terraces, and palaces still above these; +forming, wherever you can catch a vista, the most exquisite rising +perspective. On the summit of this hill stands the noble fortress +of St. George; and behind it a lovely open garden, just now alive +with millions of roses, a fountain playing into a deep oval basin in +the centre, and a view beneath and beyond of a broad winding +valley, covered with the country villas of the nobility and gentry, +and blooming with all the luxuriant vegetation of a southern +clime.</p> + +<p>My window looks out upon the bay, across which I see the +palace of <i>Andria Doria</i>, the great winner of the best glory of the +Genoese; and just under me floats an American flag, at the peak +of a Baltimore schooner, that sails to-morrow morning for the +United States. I must close my letter, to send by her. I shall +remain in Genoa a week, and will write you of its splendor more +minutely. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXVII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +FLORENCE—THE GALLERY—THE VENUS DE MEDICIS—THE TRIBUNE—THE +FORNARINA—THE CASCINE—AN ITALIAN FESTA—MADAME +CATALANI.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florence.</span>—It is among the pleasantest things in this very +pleasant world, to find oneself for the first time in a famous city. +We sallied from the hotel this morning an hour after our arrival, +and stopped at the first corner to debate where we should go. I +could not help smiling at the magnificence of the alternatives. +"To the Gallery, of course," said I, "to see the Venus de Medicis." +"To Santa Croce," said one, "to see the tombs of Michael +Angelo, and Alfieri, and Machiavelli." "To the Palazzo Pitti," +said another, "the Grand Duke's palace, and the choicest collection +of pictures in the world." The embarrassment alone was +quite a sensation.</p> + +<p>The Venus carried the day. We crossed the Piazza de +Granduca, and inquired for the gallery. A fine court was shown +us, opening out from the square, around the three sides of which +stood a fine uniform structure, with a colonnade, the lower story +occupied by shops and crowded with people. We mounted a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">212</a></span> +broad staircase, and requested of the soldier at the door to be +directed to the presence of the Venus, without delay. Passing +through one of the long wings of the gallery, without even a +glance at the statues, pictures, and bronzes that lined the walls, +we arrived at the door of a cabinet, and, putting aside the large +crimson curtain at the entrance, stood before the enchantress. I +must defer a description of her. We spent an hour there, but, +except that her divine beauty filled and satisfied my eye, as +nothing else ever did, and that the statue is as unlike a thing to +the casts one sees of it as one thing could well be unlike another, +I made no criticism. There is an atmosphere of fame and +circumstantial interest about the Venus, which bewilders the +fancy almost as much as her loveliness does the eye. She has +been gazed upon and admired by troops of pilgrims, each of +whom it were worth half a life to have met at her pedestal. The +painters, the poets, the talent and beauty, that have come there +from every country under the sun, and the single feeling of love +and admiration that she has breathed alike into all, consecrate +her mere presence as a place for revery and speculation. Childe +Harold has been here, I thought, and Shelley and Wordsworth +and Moore; and, farther removed from our sympathies, but +interesting still, the poets and sculptors of another age, Michael +Angelo and Alfieri, the men of genius of all nations and times; +and, to stand in the same spot, and experience the same feeling +with them, is an imaginative pleasure, it is true, but as truly a +deep and real one. Exceeding, as the Venus does beyond all +competition, every image of loveliness painted or sculptured that +one has ever before seen, the fancy leaves the eye gazing upon it, +and busies itself irresistibly with its pregnant atmosphere of +recollections. At least I found it so, and I must go there again +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">213</a></span> +and again, before I can look at the marble separately, and with a +merely admiring attention.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>Three or four days have stolen away, I scarce know how. I +have seen but one or two things, yet have felt so unequal to the +description, that but for my promise I should never write a line +about them. Really, to sit down and gaze into one of Titian's +faces for an hour, and then to go away and dream of putting into +language its color and expression, seems to me little short of +superlative madness. I only wonder at the divine faculty of +sight. The draught of pleasure seems to me immortal, and the +eye the only Ganymede that can carry the cup steadily to the +mind. How shall I begin to give you an idea of the Fornarina? +What can I tell you of the St. John in the desert, +that can afford you a glimpse, even, of Raphael's inspired +creations?</p> + +<p>The <i>Tribune</i> is the name of a small octagonal cabinet in the +gallery, devoted to the masterpieces of the collection. There are +five statues, of which one is the Venus de Medicis; and a dozen +or twenty pictures, of which I have only seen as yet Titian's two +Venuses, and Raphael's St. John and Fornarina. People walk +through the other parts of the gallery, and pause here and there +a moment before a painting or a statue; but in the Tribune they +sit down, and you may wait hours before a chair is vacated, or +often before the occupant shows a sign of life. Everybody seems +entranced there. They get before a picture, and bury their eyes +in it, as if it had turned them to stone. After the Venus, the +Fornarina strikes me most forcibly, and I have stood and gazed +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">214</a></span> +at it till my limbs were numb with the motionless posture. +There is no affectation in this. I saw an English girl yesterday +gazing at the St. John. She was a flighty, coquettish-looking +creature, and I had felt that the spirit of the place was profaned +by the way she sailed into the room. She sat down, with half a +glance at the Venus, and began to look at this picture. It is a +glorious thing, to be sure, a youth of apparently seventeen, with +a leopard-skin about his loins, in the very pride of maturing manliness +and beauty. The expression of the face is all human, but +wrought to the very limit of celestial enthusiasm. The wonderful +richness of the coloring, the exquisite ripe fulness of the limbs, +the passionate devotion of the kindling features, combine to make +it the faultless ideal of a perfect human being in youth. I had +quite forgotten the intruder, for an hour. Quite a different picture +had absorbed all my attention. The entrance of some one +disturbed me, and as I looked around I caught a glance of my +coquette, sitting with her hands awkwardly clasped over her guide-book, +her mouth open, and the lower jaw hanging down with a +ludicrous expression of unconsciousness and astonished admiration. +She was evidently unaware of everything in the world except the +form before her, and a more absorbed and sincere wonder I +never witnessed.</p> + +<p>I have been enjoying all day an Italian Festa. The Florentines +have a pleasant custom of celebrating this particular festival, +Ascension-day, in the open air; breakfasting, dining, and dancing +under the superb trees of the Cascine. This is, by the way, +quite the loveliest public pleasure-ground I ever saw—a wood of +three miles in circumference, lying on the banks of the Arno, +just below the town; not, like most European promenades, a +bare field of clay or ground, set out with stunted trees, and cut +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">215</a></span> +into rectangular walks, or without a secluded spot or an +untrodden blade of grass; but full of sward-paths, green and +embowered, the underbrush growing wild and luxuriant between; +ivy and vines of all descriptions hanging from the limbs, and +winding about every trunk; and here and there a splendid +opening of velvet grass for half a mile, with an ornamental +temple in the centre, and beautiful contrivances of perspective +in every direction. I have been not a little surprised with the +enchantment of so public a place. You step into the woods +from the very pavement of one of the most populous streets in +Florence; from dust and noise and a crowd of busy people to +scenes where Boccacio might have fitly laid his "hundred tales +of love." The river skirts the Cascine on one side, and the +extensive grounds of a young Russian nobleman's villa on the +other; and here at sunset come all the world to walk and +drive, and on festas like this, to encamp, and keep holy-day +under the trees. The whole place is more like a half-redeemed +wild-wood in America, than a public promenade in +Europe.</p> + +<p>It is the custom, I am told, for the Grand Duke and the nobles +of Tuscany to join in this festival, and breakfast in the open air +with the people. The late death of the young and beautiful +Grand-Duchess has prevented it this year, and the merry-makings +are diminished of one half their interest. I should not have +imagined it, however, without the information. I took a long +stroll among the tents this morning, with two ladies from Albany, +old friends, whom I have encountered accidentally in Florence. +The scenes were peculiar and perfectly Italian. Everything was +done fantastically and tastefully. The tables were set about the +knolls, the bonnets and shawls hung upon the trees, and the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">216</a></span> +dark-eyed men and girls, with their expressive faces full of +enjoyment, leaned around upon the grass, with the children +playing among them, in innumerable little parties, dispersed as if +it had been managed by a painter. At every few steps a long +embowered alley stretched off to the right or left, with strolling +groups scattered as far as the eye could see under the trees, the +red ribands and bright colored costumes contrasting gayly with +the foliage of every tint, from the dusky leaf of the olive to the +bright soft green of the acacia. Wherever there was a circular +opening there were tents just in the edges of the wood, the white +festoons of the cloth hung from the limbs, and tables spread +under them, with their antique-looking Tuscan pitchers wreathed +with vines, and tables spread with broad green leaves, making the +prettiest cool covering that could be conceived. I have not +come up to the reality in this description, and yet, on reading +it, it sounds half a fiction. One must be here to feel how +little language can convey an idea of this "garden of the +world."</p> + +<p>The evening was the fashionable hour, and, with the addition +of Mr. Greenough, the sculptor, to our party, we drove to the +Cascine about an hour before sunset to see the equipages, and +enjoy the close of the festival. The drives intersect these +beautiful grounds irregularly in every direction, and the spectacle +was even more brilliant than in the morning. The nobility and +the gay world of Florence flew past us, in their showy carriages +of every description, the distinguished occupants differing in but +one respect from well-bred people of other countries—<i>they looked +happy</i>. If I had been lying on the grass, an Italian peasant, +with my kinsmen and friends, I should not have felt that among +the hundreds who were rolling past me, richer and better born. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">217</a></span> +there was one face that looked on me contemptuously or condescendingly. +I was very much struck with the universal air of +enjoyment and natural exhilaration. One scarce felt like a +stranger in such a happy-looking crowd.</p> + +<p>Near the centre of the grounds is an open space, where it is +the custom for people to stop in driving to exchange courtesies +with their friends. It is a kind of fashionable open air <i>soirée</i>. +Every evening you may see from fifty to a hundred carriages at a +time, moving about in this little square in the midst of the +woods, and drawing up side by side, one after another, for +conversation. Gentlemen come ordinarily on horseback, and +pass round from carriage to carriage, with their hats off, talking +gayly with the ladies within. There could not be a more +brilliant scene, and there never was a more delightful custom. +It keeps alive the intercourse in the summer months, when there +are no parties, and it gives a stranger an opportunity of seeing +the lovely and the distinguished without the difficulty and +restraint of an introduction to society. I wish some of these +better habits of Europe were imitated in our country as readily +as worse ones.</p> + +<p>After threading the embowered roads of the Cascine for an +hour, and gazing with constant delight at the thousand pictures +of beauty and happiness that met us at every turn, we came +back and mingled in the gay throng of carriages at the centre. +The <i>valet</i> of our lady-friends knew everybody, and, taking a +convenient stand, we amused ourselves for an hour, gazing at +them as they were named in passing. Among others, several of +the Bonaparte family went by in a splendid barouche; and a +heavy carriage, with a showy, tasselled hammer-cloth, and +servants in dashy liveries, stopped just at our side, containing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">218</a></span> +Madame Catalani, the celebrated singer. She has a fine face +yet, with large expressive features, and dark, handsome eyes. +Her daughter was with her, but she has none of her mother's +pretensions to good looks. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXVIII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +THE PITTI PALACE—TITIAN'S BELLA—AN IMPROVISATRICE—VIEW +FROM A WINDOW—ANNUAL EXPENSE OF RESIDENCE AT +FLORENCE.</p> + +<p>I have got into the "back-stairs interest," as the politicians +say, and to-day I wound up the staircase of the <i>Pitti Palace</i>, and +spent an hour or two in its glorious halls with the younger +Greenough, without the insufferable and usually inevitable annoyance +of a <i>cicerone</i>. You will not of course, expect a regular +description of such a vast labyrinth of splendor. I could not +give it to you even if I had been there the hundred times that I +intend to go, if I live long enough in Florence. In other +galleries you see merely the Arts, here you are dazzled with the +renewed and costly magnificence of a royal palace. The floors +and ceilings and furniture, each particular part of which it must +have cost the education of a life to accomplish, bewilder you out +of yourself, quite; and, till you can tread on a matchless pavement +or imitated mosaic, and lay your hat on a table of inlaid +gems, and sit on a sofa wrought with you know not what delicate +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">220</a></span> +and curious workmanship, without nervousness or compunction, +you are not in a state to appreciate the pictures upon the walls +with judgment or pleasure.</p> + +<p>I saw but one thing well—Titian's <span class="smcap">Bella</span>, as the Florentines +call it. There are two famous Venuses by the same master, as +you know, in the other gallery, hanging over the Venus de +Medicis—full-length figures reclining upon couches, one of them +usually called Titian's mistress. The <i>Bella</i> in the Pitti gallery, +is a half-length portrait, dressed to the shoulders, and a different +kind of picture altogether. The others are voluptuous, full-grown +women. This represents a young girl of perhaps seventeen; +and if the frame in which it hangs were a window, and the +loveliest creature that ever trod the floors of a palace stood +looking out upon you, in the open air, she could not seem more +real, or give you a stronger feeling of the presence of exquisite, +breathing, human beauty. The face has no particular character. +It is the look with which a girl would walk to the casement in a +mood of listless happiness, and gaze out, she scarce knew why. +You feel that it is the habitual expression. Yet, with all its +subdued quiet and sweetness, it is a countenance beneath which +evidently sleeps warm and measureless passion, capacities for +loving and enduring and resenting everything that makes up a +character to revere and adore. I do not know how a picture can +express so much—but it does express all this, and eloquently +too.</p> + +<p>In a fresco on the ceiling of one of the private chambers, is a +portrait of the late lamented Grand-duchess. On the mantelpiece +in the Duke's cabinet also is a beautiful marble bust of her. It +is a face and head corresponding perfectly to the character given +her by common report, full of nobleness and kindness. The +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">221</a></span> +Duke, who loved her with a devotion rarely found in marriages of +state, is inconsolable since her death, and has shut himself from +all society. He hardly slept during her illness, watching by her +bedside constantly. She was a religious enthusiast, and her +health is said to have been first impaired by too rigid an adherence +to the fasts of the church, and self-inflicted penance. The +Florentines talk of her still, and she appears to have been unusually +loved and honored.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I have just returned from hearing an <i>improvisatrice</i>. At a +party last night I met an Italian gentleman, who talked very +enthusiastically of a lady of Florence, celebrated for her talent +of improvisation. She was to give a private exhibition to her +friends the next day at twelve, and he offered politely to introduce +me. He called this morning, and we went together.</p> + +<p>Some thirty or forty people were assembled in a handsome +room, darkened tastefully by heavy curtains. They were sitting +in perfect silence when we entered, all gazing intently on the improvisatrice, +a lady of some forty or fifty years, of a fine countenance, +and dressed in deep mourning. She rose to receive us; +and my friend introducing me, to my infinite dismay, as an <i>improvisatore +Americano</i>, she gave me a seat on the sofa at her +right hand, an honor I had not Italian enough to decline. I +regretted it the less that it gave me an opportunity of observing +the effects of the "fine phrensy," a pleasure I should otherwise +certainly have lost through the darkness of the room.</p> + +<p>We were sitting in profound silence, the head of the improvisatrice +bent down upon her breast, and her hands clasped over +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">222</a></span> +her lap, when she suddenly raised herself, and with both hands +extended, commenced in a thrilling voice, "<i>Patria!</i>" Some +particular passage of Florentine history had been given her by +one of the company, and we had interrupted her in the midst of +her conception. She went on with astonishing fluency, in +smooth harmonious rhyme, without the hesitation of a breath, for +half an hour. My knowledge of the language was too imperfect +to judge of the finish of the style, but the Italians present were +quite carried away with their enthusiasm. There was an improvisatore +in company, said to be the second in Italy; a young +man, of perhaps twenty-five, with a face that struck me as the +very <i>beau ideal</i> of genius. His large expressive eyes kindled as +the poetess went on, and the changes of his countenance soon +attracted the attention of the company. She closed and sunk +back upon her seat, quite exhausted; and the poet, looking +round for sympathy, loaded her with praises in the peculiarly +beautiful epithets of the Italian language. I regarded her more +closely as she sat by me. Her profile was beautiful; and her +mouth, which at the first glance had exhibited marks of age, was +curled by her excitement into a firm, animated curve, which +restored twenty years at least by its expression.</p> + +<p>After a few minutes one of the company went out of the room, +and wrote upon a sheet of paper the last words of every line +for a sonnet; and a gentleman who had remained within, gave a +subject to fill it up. She took the paper, and looking at it a moment +or two, repeated the sonnet as fluently as if it had been +written out before her. Several other subjects were then given +her, and she filled the same sonnet with the same terminations. +It was wonderful. I could not conceive of such facility. After +she had satisfied them with this, she turned to me and said, that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">223</a></span> +in compliment to the American improvisatore she would give an +ode upon America. To disclaim the character and the honor +would have been both difficult and embarrassing even for one +who knew the language better than I, so I bowed and submitted. +She began with the discovery of Columbus, claimed him as her +countryman; and with some poetical fancies about the wild +woods and the Indians, mingled up Montezuma and Washington +rather promiscuously, and closed with a really beautiful apostrophe +to liberty. My acknowledgments were fortunately lost +in the general murmur.</p> + +<p>A tragedy succeeded, in which she sustained four characters. +This, by the working of her forehead and the agitation of her +breast, gave her more trouble, but her fluency was unimpeded; +and when she closed, the company was in raptures. Her gestures +were more passionate in this performance, but, even with +my imperfect knowledge of the language, they always seemed +called for and in taste. Her friends rose as she sunk back on +the sofa, gathered round her, and took her hands, overwhelming +her with praises. It was a very exciting scene altogether, and I +went away with new ideas of poetical power and enthusiasm.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>One lodges like a prince in Florence, and pays like a beggar. +For the information of artists and scholars desirous to come +abroad, to whom exact knowledge on the subject is important, I +will give you the inventory and cost of my whereabout.</p> + +<p>I sit at this moment in a window of what was formerly the +archbishop's palace—a noble old edifice, with vast staircases and +resounding arches, and a hall in which you might put a dozen of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">224</a></span> +the modern brick houses of our country. My chamber is as +large as a ball-room, on the second story, looking out upon the +garden belonging to the house, which extends to the eastern wall +of the city. Beyond this lies one of the sweetest views in the +world—the ascending amphitheatre of hills, in whose lap lies +Florence, with the tall eminence of <i>Fiesolé</i> in the centre, crowned +with the monastery in which Milton passed six weeks, while +gathering scenery for his Paradise. I can almost count the +panes of glass in the windows of the bard's room; and, between +the fine old building and my eye, on the slope of the hill, lie +thirty or forty splendid villas, half-buried in trees (Madame +Catalani's among them), piled one above another on the steep +ascent, with their columns and porticoes, as if they were mock +temples in a vast terraced garden. I do not think there is +a window in Italy that commands more points of beauty. Cole, +the American landscape painter, who occupied the room before +me, took a sketch from it. For neighbors, the Neapolitan ambassador +lives on the same floor, the two Greenoughs in the +ground-rooms below, and the palace of one of the wealthiest +nobles of Florence overlooks the garden, with a front of eighty-five +windows, from which you are at liberty to select any two or +three, and imagine the most celebrated beauty of Tuscany behind +the crimson curtains—the daughter of this same noble bearing +that reputation. She was pointed out to me at the Opera a +night or two since, and I have seen as famous women with less +pretensions.</p> + +<p>For the interior, my furniture is not quite upon the same +scale, but I have a clean snow-white bed, a calico-covered sofa, +chairs and tables enough, and pictures three deep from the wall +to the floor. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">225</a></span></p> + +<p>For all this, and the liberty of the episcopal garden, I pay +<i>three dollars a month</i>! A dollar more is charged for lamps, +boots, and service, and a dark-eyed landlady of thirty-five +mends my gloves, and pays me two visits a day—items not mentioned +in the bill. Then for the feeding, an excellent breakfast +of coffee and toast is brought me for six cents; and, without +wine, one may dine heartily at a fashionable restaurant for twelve +cents, and with wine, quite magnificently for twenty-five. Exclusive +of postage and pleasures, this is all one is called upon to +spend in Florence. Three hundred dollars a year would fairly +and largely cover the expenses of a man living at this rate; and +a man who would not be willing to live half as well for the sake +of his art, does not deserve to see Italy. I have stated these +unsentimental particulars, because it is a kind of information I +believe much wanted. I should have come to Italy years ago if +I had known as much, and I am sure there are young men in our +country, dreaming of this paradise of art in half despair, who will +thank me for it, and take up at once "the pilgrim's sandal-shoon +and scollop-shell." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXIX.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +EXCURSION TO VENICE—AMERICAN ARTISTS—VALLEY OF FLORENCE—MOUNTAINS +OF CARRARA—TRAVELLING COMPANIONS—HIGHLAND +TAVERN—MIST AND SUNSHINE—ITALIAN VALLEYS—VIEW +OF THE ADRIATIC—BORDER OF ROMAGNA—SUBJECTS +FOR THE PENCIL—HIGHLAND ITALIANS—ROMANTIC +SCENERY—A PAINFUL OCCURRENCE—AN ITALIAN HUSBAND—A +DUTCHMAN, HIS WIFE AND CHILDREN—BOLOGNE—THE +PILGRIM—MODEL FOR A MAGDALEN.</p> + +<p>I started for Venice yesterday, in company with Mr. Alexander +and Mr. Cranch, two American artists. We had taken the +vetturino for Bologna, and at daylight we were winding up the +side of the amphitheatre of Appenines that bends over Florence, +leaving Fiesolé rising sharply on our right. The mist was creeping +up the mountain just in advance of us, retreating with a +scarcely perceptible motion to the summits, like the lift of a +heavy curtain; Florence, and its long, heavenly valley, full of +white palaces sparkling in the sun, lay below us, more like a +vision of a better world than a scene of human passion; away in +the horizon the abrupt heads of the mountains of Carrara rose +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">227</a></span> +into the sky; and with the cool, fresh breeze of the hills, and the +excitement of the pleasant excursion before us, we were three of +as happy travellers probably as were to be met on any highway +in this garden of the world.</p> + +<p>We had six companions, and a motley crew they were—a little +effeminate Venetian, probably a tailor, with a large, noble-looking, +handsome contadina for a wife; a sputtering Dutch merchant, a +fine, little, coarse, good-natured fellow, with <i>his</i> wife, and two +very small and very disagreeable children; an Austrian corporal +in full uniform; and a fellow in a straw hat, speaking some +unknown language, and a nondescript in every respect. The +women and children, and my friends, the artists, were my +companions inside, the double dicky in front accommodating the +others. Conversation commenced with the journey. The Dutch +spoke their dissonant language to each other, and French to us, +the contadina's soft Venetian dialect broke in like a flute in a +chorus of harsh instruments, and our own hissing English added +to a mixture already sufficiently various.</p> + +<p>We were all day ascending mountains, and slept coolly under +three or four blankets at a highland tavern, on a very wild +Appenine. Our supper was gaily eaten, and our mirth served +to entertain five or six English families, whose chambers were +only separated from the rough raftered dining hall by double +curtains. It was pleasant to hear the children and nurses +speaking English unseen. The contrast made us realize forcibly +the eminently foreign scene about us. The next morning, after +travelling two or three hours in a thick, drizzling mist, we +descended a sharp hill, and emerged at its foot into a sunshine so +sudden and clear, that it seemed almost as if the night had burst +into mid-day in a moment. We had come out of a black cloud. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">228</a></span> +The mountain behind us was capped with it to the summit. +Beneath us lay a map of a hundred valleys, all bathed and +glowing in unclouded light, and on the limit of the horizon, far +off as the eye could span, lay a long sparkling line of water, like +a silver frame around the landscape. It was our first view of the +<i>Adriatic</i>. We looked at it with the singular and indefinable +emotion with which one always sees a celebrated <i>water</i> for the +first time—a sensation, it seems to me, which is like that of no +other addition to our knowledge. The Mediterranean at Marseilles, +the Arno at Florence, the Seine at Paris, affected me in +the same way. Explain it who will, or can!</p> + +<p>An hour after, we reached the border of <i>Romagna</i>, the +dominions of the Pope running up thus far into the Appenines. +Here our trunks were taken off and searched more minutely. +The little village was full of the dark-skinned, romantic-looking +Romagnese, and my two friends, seated on a wall, with a dozen +curious gazers about them, sketched the heads looking from the +old stone windows, beggars, buildings, and scenery, in a mood of +professional contentment. Dress apart, these highland Italians +are like North American Indians—the same copper complexions, +high cheek bones, thin lips, and dead, black hair. The old +women particularly, would pass in any of our towns for full-blooded +squaws.</p> + +<p>The scenery, after this, grew of the kind "which savage Rosa +dashed"—the only landscape I ever saw <i>exactly</i> of the tints +so peculiar to Salvator's pictures. Our painters were in ecstasies +with it, and truly, the dark foliage, and blanched rocks, the wild +glens, and wind-distorted trees, gave the country the air of a +home for all the tempests and floods of a continent. The +Kaatskills are tame to it. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">229</a></span></p> + +<p>The forenoon came on, hot and sultry, and our little republic +began to display its character. The tailor's wife was taken sick; +and fatigue, and heat, and the rough motion of the vetturino in +descending the mountains, brought on a degree of suffering which +it was painful to witness. She was a woman of really extraordinary +beauty, and dignified and modest as few women are in any +country. Her suppressed groans, her white, tremulous lips, the +tears of agony pressing thickly through her shut eyelids, and the +clenching of her sculpture-like hands, would have moved anything +but an Italian husband. The little effeminate villain +treated her as if she had been a dog. She bore everything from +him till he took her hand, which she raised faintly to intimate that +she could not rise when the carriage stopped, and threw it back +into her face with a curse. She roused, and looked at him with +a natural majesty and calmness that made my blood thrill. +"<i>Aspetta?</i>" was her only answer, as she sunk back and fainted.</p> + +<p>The Dutchman's wife was a plain, honest, affectionate creature, +bearing the humors of two heated and ill-tempered children, +with a patience we were compelled to admire. Her husband +smoked and laughed, and talked villainous French and worse +Italian, but was glad to escape to the cabriolet in the hottest of +the day, leaving his wife to her cares. The baby screamed, and +the child blubbered and fretted, and for hours the mother was a +miracle of kindness. The "drop too much," came in the shape +of a new crying fit from both children, and the poor little Dutchwoman, +quite wearied out, burst into a flood of tears, and hiccupped +her complaints in her own language, weeping unrestrainedly +for a quarter of an hour. After this she felt better, took a +gulp of wine from the black bottle, and settled herself once more +quietly and resignedly to her duties. We had certainly opened +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">230</a></span> +one or two very fresh veins of human character, when we stopped +at the gates.</p> + +<p>There is but one hotel for American travellers in Bologna, of +course. Those who have read Rogers's Italy, will remember his +mention of "The Pilgrim," the house where the poet met Lord +Byron by appointment, and passed the evening with him which +he describes so exquisitely. We took leave of our motley friends +at the door, and our artists who had greatly admired the lovely +Venetian, parted from her with the regret of old acquaintances. +She certainly was, as they said, a splendid model for a Magdalen, +"majestical and sad," and, always in attitudes for a picture: +sleeping or waking, she afforded a succession of studies of which +they took the most enthusiastic advantage. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXX.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +EXCURSION TO VENICE CONTINUED—BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF BOLOGNA—GALLERY +OF THE FINE ARTS—RAPHAEL'S ST. CECILIA—PICTURES +OF CARRACCI—DOMENICHINOS' MADONNA DEL ROSARIO—GUIDO'S +MASSACRE OF THE INNOCENTS—THE CATHEDRAL +AND THE DUOMO—EFFECTS OF THESE PLACES OF WORSHIP, +AND THE CEREMONIES, UPON THE MIND—RESORT OF THE +ITALIAN PEASANTRY—OPEN CHURCHES—SUBTERRANEAN-CONFESSION +CHAPEL—THE FESTA—GRAND PROCESSIONS—ILLUMINATIONS—AUSTRIAN +BANDS OF MUSIC—DEPORTMENT OF THE +PEOPLE TO A STRANGER.</p> + +<p>Another evening is here, and my friends have crept to bed +with the exclamation, "how much we may live in a day." +Bologna is unlike any other city we have ever seen, in a multitude +of things. You walk all over it under arcades, sheltered on +either side from the sun, the elegance and ornament of the lines +of pillars depending on the wealth of the owner of the particular +house, but columns and arches, simple or rich, everywhere. +Imagine porticoes built on the front of every house in Philadelphia +or New York, so as to cover the sidewalks completely, and, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">232</a></span> +down the long perspective of every street, continued lines of airy +Corinthian, or simple Doric pillars, and you may faintly conceive +the impression of the streets of Bologna. With Lord Byron's +desire to forget everything English, I do not wonder at his +selection of this foreign city for a residence, so emphatically +unlike, as it is, to everything else in the world.</p> + +<p>We inquired out the gallery after breakfast, and spent two or +three hours among the celebrated master-pieces of the <i>Carracci</i>, +and the famous painters of the Bolognese school. The collection is +small, but said to be more choice than any other in Italy. There +certainly are five or six among its forty or fifty gems, that deserve +each a pilgrimage. The pride of the place is the St. Cecilia, by +Raphael. This always beautiful personification of music, a +woman of celestial beauty, stands in the midst of a choir who +have been interrupted in their anthem by a song, issuing from a +vision of angels in a cloud from heaven. They have dropped +their instruments, broken, upon the ground, and are listening +with rapt attention, all, except the saint, with heads dropped +upon their bosoms, overcome with the glory of the revelation. +She alone, with her harp hanging loosely from her fingers, gazes +up with the most serene and cloudless rapture beaming from her +countenance, yet with a look of full and angelic comprehension, +and understanding of the melody and its divine meaning. You +feel that her beauty is mortal, for it is all woman; but you see +that, for the moment, the spirit that breathes through, and +mingles with the harmony in the sky, is seraphic and immortal. +If there ever was inspiration, out of holy writ, it touched the +pencil of Raphael.</p> + +<p>It is tedious to read descriptions of pictures. I liked everything +in the gallery. The Bolognese style of color suits my eye. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">233</a></span> +It is rich and forcible, without startling or offending. Its +delicious mellowness of color, and vigor and triumphant power of +conception, show two separate triumphs of the art, which in the +same hand are delightful. The pictures of Ludovico Carracci +especially fired my admiration. And Domenichino, who died of +a broken heart at Rome, because his productions were neglected, +is a painter who always touches me nearly. His <i>Madonna del +Rosario</i> is crowded with beauty. Such children I never saw in +painting—the very ideals of infantile grace and innocence. It is +said of him, that, after painting his admirable frescoes in the +church of St. Andrew, at Rome, which, at the time, were +ridiculed unsparingly by the artists, he used to walk in on his +return from his studio, and gazing at them with a dejected air, +remark to his friend, that he "could not think they were <i>quite</i> +so bad—they <i>might</i> have been worse." How true it is, that, +"the root of a great name is in the dead body."</p> + +<p>Guido's celebrated picture of the "Massacre of the Innocents," +hangs just opposite the St. Cecilia. It is a powerful and painful +thing. The marvel of it to me is the simplicity with which its +wonderful effects are produced, both of expression and color. +The kneeling mother in the foreground, with her dead children +before her, is the most intense representation of agony I ever saw. +Yet the face is calm, her eyes thrown up to heaven, but her lips +undistorted, and the muscles of her face, steeped as they are in +suffering, still and natural. It is the look of a soul overwhelmed—that +has ceased to struggle because it is full. Her gaze is on +heaven, and in the abandonment of her limbs, and the deep, but +calm agony of her countenance, you see that nothing between +this and heaven can move her more. One suffers in seeing such +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">234</a></span> +pictures. You go away exhausted, and with feelings harassed +and excited.</p> + +<p>As we returned, we passed the gates of the university. On +the walls were pasted a sonnet printed with some flourish, in +honor of <i>Camillo Rosalpina</i>, the laureate of one of the academical +classes.</p> + +<p>We visited several of the churches in the afternoon. The +cathedral and the Duomo are glorious places—both. I wish I +could convey, to minds accustomed to the diminutive size and +proportions of our churches in America, an idea of the enormous +and often almost supernatural grandeur of those in Italy. Aisles +in whose distance the figure of a man is almost lost—pillars, +whose bases you walk round in wonder, stretching into the lofty +vaults of the roof, as if they ended in the sky—arches of gigantic +dimensions, mingling and meeting with the fine tracery of a +cobweb—altars piled up on every side with gold, and marble, and +silver—private chapels ornamented with the wealth of nobles, let +into the sides, each large enough for a communion—and through +the whole extent of the interior, an unencumbered breadth of +floor, with here and there a solitary worshipper on his knees, or +prostrated on his face—figures so small in comparison with the +immense dome above them, that it seems as if, could distance +drown a prayer, they were as much lost as if they prayed under +the open sky! Without having even a leaning to the Catholic +faith, I love to haunt their churches, and I am not sure that the +religious awe of the sublime ceremonies and places of worship +does not steal upon me daily. Whenever I am heated, or +fatigued, or out of spirits, I go into the first cathedral, and sit +down for an hour. They are always dark, and cool, and quiet; +and the distant tinkling of the bell from some distant chapel and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">235</a></span> +the grateful odor of the incense, and the low, just audible +murmur of prayer, settles on my feelings like a mist, and softens +and soothes and refreshes me, as nothing else will. The Italian +peasantry who come to the cities to sell or bargain, pass their +noons in these cool places. You see them on their knees asleep +against a pillar, or sitting in a corner, with their heads upon their +bosoms; and, if it were as a place of retreat and silence alone, the +churches are an inestimable blessing to them. It seems to me, +that any sincere Christian, of whatever faith, would find a +pleasure in going into a sacred place and sitting down in the +heat of the day, to be quiet and devotional for an hour. It +would promote the objects of any denomination in our country, I +should think, if the churches were thus left always open.</p> + +<p>Under the cathedral of Bologna is a <i>subterranean confession-chapel</i>—as +singular and impressive a device as I ever saw. It is +dark like a cellar, the daylight faintly struggling through a +painted window above the altar, and the two solitary wax candles +giving a most ghastly intensity to the gloom. The floor is paved +with tombstones, the inscriptions and death's heads of which +you feel under your feet as you walk through. The roof is so +vaulted that every tread is reverberated endlessly in hollow +tones. All around are the confession-boxes, with the pierced +plates, at which the priest within puts his ear, worn with the lips +of penitents, and at one of the sides is a deep cave, far within +which, as in a tomb, lies a representation on limestone of our +Saviour, bleeding as he came from the cross, with the apostles, +made of the same cadaverous material, hanging over him! +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">236</a></span></p> + +<p>We have happened, by a fortunate chance, upon an extraordinary +day in Bologna—a <i>festa</i>, that occurs but once in ten years. +We went out as usual after breakfast this morning, and found the +city had been decorated over-night in the most splendid and +singular manner. The arcades of some four or five streets in the +centre of the town were covered with rich crimson damask, the +pillars completely bound, and the arches dressed and festooned +with a degree of gorgeousness and taste as costly as it was +magnificent. The streets themselves were covered with cloths +stretched above the second stories of the houses from one side to +the other, keeping off the sun entirely, and making in each street +one long tent of a mile or more, with two lines of crimson +columns at the sides, and festoons of gauze, of different colors, +hung from window to window in every direction. It was by far +the most splendid scene I ever saw. The people were all there +in their gayest dresses, and we probably saw in the course of the +day every woman in Bologna. My friends, the painters, give it +the palm for beauty over all the cities they had seen. There was +a grand procession in the morning, and in the afternoon the +bands of the Austrian army made the round of the decorated +streets, playing most delightfully before the principal houses. In +the evening there was an illumination, and we wandered up and +down till midnight through the fairy scene, almost literally +"dazzled and drunk with beauty."</p> + +<p>The people of Bologna have a kind of earnest yet haughty +courtesy, very different from that of most of the Italians I have +seen. They bow to the stranger, as he enters the <i>café</i>; and if +they rise before him, the men raise their hats and the ladies smile +and curtsy as they go out; yet without the least familiarity +which could authorize farther approach to acquaintance. We +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">237</a></span> +have found the officers, whom we meet at the eating-houses, +particularly courteous. There is something delightful in this +universal acknowledgment of a stranger's claims on courtesy and +kindness. I could well wish it substituted in our country, for the +surly and selfish manners of people in public-houses to each +other. There is neither loss of dignity nor committal of +acquaintance in such attentions; and the manner in which a +gentleman steps forward to assist you in any difficulty of explanation +in a foreign tongue, or sends the waiter to you if you +are neglected, or hands you the newspaper or his snuff-box, or +rises to give you room in a crowded place, takes away, from me +at least, all that painful sense of solitude and neglect one feels as +a stranger in a foreign land.</p> + +<p>We go to Ferrara to-morrow, and thence by the Po to Venice. +My letter must close for the present. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXXI.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +VENICE—THE FESTA—GONDOLIERS—WOMEN—AN ITALIAN SUNSET—THE +LANDING—PRISONS OF THE DUCAL PALACE—THE +CELLS DESCRIBED BY BYRON—APARTMENT IN WHICH PRISONERS +WERE STRANGLED—DUNGEONS UNDER THE CANAL—SECRET +GUILLOTINE—STATE CRIMINALS—BRIDGE OF SIGHS—PASSAGE +TO THE INQUISITION AND TO DEATH—CHURCH OF ST. MARC—A +NOBLEMAN IN POVERTY, ETC., ETC.</p> + +<p>You will excuse me at present from a description of Venice. +It is a matter not to be hastily undertaken. It has also been +already done a thousand times; and I have just seen a beautiful +sketch of it in the public prints of the United States. I proceed +with my letters.</p> + +<p>The Venetian <i>festa</i> is a gay affair, as you may imagine. If +not so beautiful and fanciful as the revels by moonlight, it was +more satisfactory, for we could see and be seen, those important +circumstances to one's individual share in the amusement. At +four o'clock in the afternoon, the links of the long bridge of +boats across the Giudecca were cut away, and the broad canal +left clear for a mile up and down. It was covered in a few +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">239</a></span> +minutes with gondolas, and all the gayety and fashion of Venice +fell into the broad promenade between the city and the festal +island. I should think five hundred were quite within the number +of gondolas. You can scarcely fancy the novelty and agreeableness +of this singular promenade. It was busy work for the +eyes to the right and left, with the great proportion of beauty, +and the rapid glide of their fairy-like boats. And the <i>quietness</i> +of the thing was so delightful—no crowding, no dust, no noise +but the dash of oars and the ring of merry voices; and we sat so +luxuriously upon our deep cushions the while, threading the busy +crowd rapidly and silently, without a jar or touch of anything but +the yielding element that sustained us.</p> + +<p>Two boats soon appeared with wreaths upon their prows, and +these had won the first and second prizes at the last year's +<i>regatta</i>. The private gondolas fell away from the middle of the +canal, and left them free space for a trial of their speed. They +were the most airy things I ever saw afloat, about forty feet long, +and as slender and light as they could well be, and hold together. +Each boat had six oars, and the crews stood with their faces to +the beak of their craft; slight, but muscular men, and with a +skill and quickness at their oars which I had never conceived. I +realized the truth and the force of Cooper's inimitable description +of the race in the Bravo. The whole of his book gives you +the very air and spirit of Venice, and one thanks him constantly +for the lively interest which he has thrown over everything in +this bewitching city. The races of the rival boats to-day were +not a regular part of the <i>festa</i>, and were not regularly contested. +The gondoliers were exhibiting themselves merely, and the people +soon ceased to be interested in them.</p> + +<p>We rowed up and down till dark, following here and there the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">240</a></span> +boats whose freights attracted us, and exclaiming every moment +at some new glimpse of beauty. There is really a surprising +proportion of loveliness in Venice. The women are all large, +probably from never walking, and other indolent habits consequent +upon want of exercise; and an oriental air, sleepy and +passionate, is characteristic of the whole race. One feels that he +has come among an entirely new class of women, and hence, probably, +the far-famed fascination of Venice to foreigners.</p> + +<p>The sunset happened to be one of those so peculiar to Italy, +and which are richer and more enchanting in Venice than in any +other part of it, from the character of its scenery. It was a sunset +without a cloud; but at the horizon the sky was dyed of a +deep orange, which softened away toward the zenith almost imperceptibly, +the whole west like a wall of burning gold. The +mingled softness and splendor of these skies is indescribable. +Everything is touched with the same hue. A mild, yellow glow +is all over the canals and buildings. The air seems filled with +glittering golden dust, and the lines of the architecture, and the +outlines of the distant islands, and the whole landscape about you +is mellowed and enriched with a new and glorious light. I have +seen one or two such sunsets in America; but there the sunsets +are bolder and clearer, and with much more sublimity—they +have rarely the voluptuous coloring of those in Italy.</p> + +<p>It was delightful to glide along over a sea of light so richly +tinted, among those graceful gondolas, with their freights of +gayety and beauty. As the glow on the sky began to fade, they +all turned their prows toward San Marc, and dropping into a +slower motion, the whole procession moved on together to the +stairs of the piazzetta; and by the time the twilight was perceptible, +the <i>cafés</i> were crowded, and the square was like one +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">241</a></span> +great <i>féte</i>. We passed the evening in wandering up and down, +never for an instant feeling like strangers, and excited and +amused till long after midnight.</p> + +<p>After several days' delay, we received an answer this morning +from the authorities, with permission to see the bridge of sighs, +and the prisons of the ducal palace. We landed at the broad +stairs, and passing the desolate court, with its marble pillars and +statues green with damp and neglect, ascended the "giant's +steps," and found the warder waiting for us, with his enormous +keys, at the door of a private passage. At the bottom of a staircase +we entered a close gallery, from which the first range of +cells opened. The doors were broken down, and the guide holding +his torch in them for a moment in passing, showed us the +same dismal interior in each—a mere cave, in which you would +hardly think it possible to breathe, with a raised platform for a +bed, and a small hole in the front wall to admit food and what air +could find its way through from the narrow passage. There +were eight of these; and descending another flight of damp steps, +we came to a second range, differing only from the first in their +slimy dampness. These are the cells of which Lord Byron gives +a description in the notes to the fourth canto of Childe Harold. +He has transcribed, if you remember, the inscription from the +ceilings and walls of one which was occupied successively by the +victims of the Inquisition. The letters are cut rudely enough, +and must have been done entirely by feeling, as there is no possibility +of the penetration of a ray of light. I copied them with +some difficulty, forgetting that they were in print, and, comparing +them afterward with my copy of Childe Harold, I found them +exactly the same, and I refer you, therefore, to his notes.</p> + +<p>In a range of cells still below these, and almost suffocating +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">242</a></span> +from their closeness, one was shown us in which prisoners were +strangled. The rope was passed through an iron grating of four +bars, the executioner standing outside the cell. The prisoner +within sat upon a stone, with his back to the grating, and the +cord was passed round his neck, and drawn till he was choked. +The wall of the cell was covered with blood, which had spattered +against it with some violence. The guide explained it by saying, +that owing to the narrowness of the passage the executioner had +no room to draw the cord, and to expedite his business his +assistant at the same time plunged a dagger into the neck of the +victim. The blood had flowed widely over the wall, and ran to +the floor in streams. With the darkness of the place, the difficulty +I found in breathing, and the frightful reality of the scenes +before me, I never had in my life a comparable sensation of +horror.</p> + +<p>At the end of the passage a door was walled up. It led, in the +times of the republic, to dungeons under the canal, in which the +prisoner died in eight days from his incarceration, at the farthest, +from the noisome dampness and unwholesome vapors of the +place. The guide gave us a harrowing description of the +swelling of their bodies, and the various agonies of their slow +death. I hurried away from the place with a sickness at my +heart. In returning by the same way I passed the turning, and +stumbled over a raised stone across the passage. It was the +groove of a secret guillotine. Here many of the state and +inquisition victims were put to death in the darkness of a narrow +passage, shut out even in their last moment from the light and +breath of heaven. The frame of the instrument had been taken +away; but the pits in the wall, which had sustained the axe, were +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">243</a></span> +still there; and the sink on the other side, where the head fell, +to carry off the blood. And these shocking executions took +place directly before the cells of the other prisoners, within +twenty feet from the farthest. In a cell close to this guillotine +had been confined a state criminal for sixteen years. He was +released at last by the arrival of the French, and on coming to +the light in the square of San Marc was struck blind, and died in +a few days. In another cell we stopped to look at the attempts +of a prisoner upon its walls, interrupted, happily, by his release. +He had sawed several inches into the front wall, with some +miserable instrument, probably a nail. He had afterward +abandoned this, and had, with prodigious strength, taken up a +block from the floor; and, the guide assured us, had descended +into the cell below. It was curious to look around his pent +prison, and see the patient labor of years upon those rough walls, +and imagine the workings of the human mind in such a miserable +lapse of existence.</p> + +<p>We ascended to the light again, and the guide led us to a +massive door, with two locks, secured by heavy iron bars. It +swung open with a scream, and we mounted a winding stair, +and</p> + +<p class="blockquot"> +"Stood in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs." +</p> + +<p>Two windows of close grating looked on either side upon the +long canal below, and let in the only light to the covered passage. +It is a gloomy place within, beautifully as its light arch hangs +in the air from without. It was easy to employ the imagination +as we stood on the stone where Childe Harold had stood before +us, and conjured up in fancy the despair and agony that must +have been pressed into the last glance at light and life that had +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">244</a></span> +been sent through those barred windows. Across this bridge the +condemned were brought to receive their sentence in the Chamber +of the <i>Ten</i>, or to be confronted with bloody inquisitors, and then +were led back over it to die. The last light that ever gladdened +their eyes came through those close bars, and the gay Giudecca in +the distance, with its lively waters covered with boats, must have +made that farewell glance to a Venetian bitter indeed. The side +next the prison is now massively walled up. We stayed, silently +musing at the windows, till the old cicerone ventured to remind +us that his time was precious.</p> + +<p>Ordering the gondola round to the stairs of the piazetta, we +strolled for the first time into the church of San Marc. The four +famous bronze horses stood with their dilated nostrils and fine +action over the porch, bringing back to us Andrea Doria, and his +threat; and as I remembered the ruined palace of the old +admiral at Genoa, and glanced at the Austrian soldier upon +guard, in the very shadow of the winged lion, I could not but +feel most impressively the moral of the contrast. The lesson +was not attractive enough, however, to keep us in a burning sun, +and we put aside the heavy folds of the drapery and entered. +How deliciously cool are these churches in Italy! We walked +slowly up toward the distant altar. An old man rose from the +base of one of the pillars, and put out his hand for charity. It +is an incident that meets one at every step, and with half a glance +at his face I passed on. I was looking at the rich mosaic on the +roof, but his features lingered in my mind. They grew upon me +still more strongly; and as I became aware of the full expression +of misery and pride upon them, I turned about to see what had +become of him. My two friends had done each the very same +thing, with the same feeling of regret, and were talking of the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">245</a></span> +old man when I came back to them. We went to the door, and +looked all about the square, but he was no where to be seen. It +is singular that he should have made the same impression upon +all of us, of an old Venetian nobleman in poverty. Slight as +my glance was, the noble expression of sadness about his fine +white head and strong features, are still indelible in my memory. +The prophecy which Byron puts into the mouth of the condemned +Doge, is still true in every particular:—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<p>——"When the Hebrew's in thy palaces,</p> +<p>The Hun in thy high places, and the Greek</p> +<p>Walks o'er thy mart, and smiles on it for his;</p> +<p>When <i>thy patricians beg their bitter bread</i>," &c.</p> +</div> + +<p>The church of San Marc is rich to excess, and its splendid +mosaic pavement is sunk into deep pits with age and the yielding +foundations on which its heavy pile is built. Its pictures are not +so fine as those of the other churches of Venice, but its age and +historic associations make it by far the most interesting. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXXII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +VENICE—SCENES BY MOONLIGHT—THE CANALS—THE ARMENIAN +ISLAND—THE ISLAND OF THE INSANE—IMPROVEMENTS MADE +BY NAPOLEON—SHADED WALKS—PAVILION AND ARTIFICIAL +HILL—ANTIDOTES TO SADNESS—PARTIES ON THE CANALS—NARROW +STREETS AND SMALL BRIDGES—THE RIALTO—MERCHANTS +AND IDLERS—SHELL-WORK AND JEWELRY—POETRY +AND HISTORY—GENERAL VIEW OF THE CITY—THE FRIULI +MOUNTAINS—THE SHORE OF ITALY—A SILENT PANORAMA—THE +ADRIATIC—PROMENADERS AND SITTERS, ETC.</p> + +<p>We stepped into the gondola to-night as the shadows of the +moon began to be perceptible, with orders to Giuseppe to take us +where he would. <i>Abroad in a summer's moonlight in Venice</i>, is +a line that might never be written but as the scene of a play. +You can not miss pleasure. If it were only the tracking silently +and swiftly the bosom of the broader canals lying asleep like +streets of molten silver between the marble palaces, or shooting +into the dark shadows of the narrower, with the black spirit-like +gondolas gliding past, or lying in the shelter of a low and not +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">247</a></span> +unoccupied balcony; or did you but loiter on in search of music, +lying unperceived beneath the windows of a palace, and listening, +half asleep, to the sound of the guitar and the song of the invisible +player within; this, with the strange beauty of every building +about you, and the loveliness of the magic lights and shadows, +were enough to make a night of pleasure, even were no charm of +personal adventure to be added to the enumeration.</p> + +<p>We glided along under the Rialto, talking of Belvidera, and +Othello, and Shylock, and, entering a cross canal, cut the arched +shadow of the Bridge of Sighs, hanging like a cobweb in the air, +and shot in a moment forth to the full, ample, moonlit bosom of +the Giudecca. This is the canal that makes the harbor and +washes the stairs of San Marc. The Lido lay off at a mile's +distance across the water, and, with the moon riding over it, the +bay between us as still as the sky above, and brighter, it looked +like a long cloud pencilled like a landscape in the heavens. To +the right lay the Armenian island, which Lord Byron visited so +often, to study with the fathers at the convent; and, a little +nearer the island of the Insane—spite of its misery, asleep, with +a most heavenly calmness on the sea. You remember the +touching story of the crazed girl, who was sent here with a +broken heart, described as putting her hand through the grating +at the dash of every passing gondola, with her unvarying +and affecting "<i>Venite per me? Venite per me?</i>"</p> + +<p>At a corner of the harbor, some three quarters of a mile from +San Marc, lies an island once occupied by a convent. Napoleon +rased the buildings, and connecting it with the town by a new, +handsome street and a bridge, laid out the ground as a public +garden. We debarked at the stairs, and passed an hour in strolling +through shaded walks, filled with the gay Venetians, who +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">248</a></span> +come to enjoy here what they find nowhere else, the smell of +grass and green leaves. There is a pavilion upon an artificial +hill in the centre, where the best lemonades and ices of Venice +are to be found; and it was surrounded to-night by merry groups, +amusing themselves with all the heart-cheering gayety of this +delightful people. The very sight of them is an antidote to +sadness.</p> + +<p>In returning to San Marc a large gondola crossed us, filled +with ladies and gentlemen, and followed by another with a band +of music. This is a common mode of making a party on the +canals, and a more agreeable one never was imagined. We +ordered the gondolier to follow at a certain distance, and spent +an hour or two just keeping within the softened sound of the +instruments. How romantic are the veriest, every-day occurrences +of this enchanting city.</p> + +<p>We have strolled to-day through most of the narrow streets +between the Rialto and the San Marc. They are, more properly, +alleys. You wind through them at sharp angles, turning constantly, +from the interruption of the canals, and crossing the +small bridges at every twenty yards. They are dark and cool; +and no hoof of any description ever passing through them, the +marble flags are always smooth and clean; and with the singular +silence, only broken by the shuffling of feet, they are pleasant +places to loiter in at noon-day, when the canals are sunny.</p> + +<p>We spent a half hour on the <i>Rialto</i>. This is the only bridge +across the grand canal, and connects the two main parts of the +city. It is, as you see by engravings, a noble span of a single +arch, built of pure white marble. You pass it, ascending the +arch by a long flight of steps to the apex, and descending again +to the opposite side. It is very broad, the centre forming a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">249</a></span> +street, with shops on each side, with alleys outside these, next +the parapet, usually occupied by idlers or merchants, probably +very much as in the time of Shylock. Here are exposed the cases +of shell-work and jewelry for which Venice is famous. The +variety and cheapness of these articles are surprising. The +Rialto has always been to me, as it is probably to most others, +quite the core of romantic locality. I stopped on the upper stair +of the arch, and passed my hand across my eyes to recall my +idea of it, and realize that I was there. One is disappointed, +spite of all the common sense in the world, not to meet Shylock +and Antonio and Pierre.</p> + +<p class="center">"Shylock and the Moor<br /> +And Pierre cannot be swept or worn away,"</p> + +<p>says Childe Harold; and that, indeed, is the feeling everywhere +in these romantic countries. You cannot separate them from +the characters with which poetry or history once peopled them.</p> + +<p>At sunset we mounted into the tower of San Marc, to get a +general view of the city. The gold-dust atmosphere, so common +in Italy at this hour, was all over the broad lagunes and the far +stretching city; and she lay beneath us, in the midst of a sea of +light, an island far out into the ocean, crowned with towers and +churches, and heaped up with all the splendors of architecture. +The Friuli mountains rose in the north with the deep blue dyes +of distance, breaking up the else level horizon; the shore of Italy +lay like a low line-cloud in the west; the spot where the Brenta +empties into the sea glowing in the blaze of the sunset. About us +lay the smaller islands, the suburbs of the sea-city, and all among +them, and up and down the Giudecca, and away off in the lagunes, +were sprinkled the thousand gondolas, meeting and crossing in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">250</a></span> +one continued and silent panorama. The Lido, with its long +wall hemmed in the bay, and beyond this lay the wide Adriatic. +The floor of San Marc's vast square was beneath, dotted over its +many-colored marbles with promenaders, its <i>cafés</i> swarmed by +the sitters outside, and its long arcades thronged. One of my +pleasantest hours in Venice was passed here. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXXIII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +PALACES—PALAZZO GRIMANI—OLD STATUARY—MALE AND FEMALE +CHERUBS—THE BATH OF CLEOPATRA—TITIAN'S PALACE—UNFINISHED +PICTURE OF THE GREAT MASTER—HIS MAGDALEN +AND BUST—HIS DAUGHTER IN THE ARMS OF A SATYR—BEAUTIFUL +FEMALE HEADS—THE CHURCHES OF VENICE—BURIAL-PLACES +OF THE DOGES—TOMB OF CANOVA—DEPARTURE +FOR VERONA, ETC.</p> + +<p>We have passed a day in visiting palaces. There are some +eight or ten in Venice, whose galleries are still splendid. We +landed first at the stairs of the <i>Palazzo Grimani</i>, and were +received by an old family servant, who sat leaning on his knees, +and gazing idly into the canal. The court and staircase were +ornamented with statuary, that had not been moved for centuries. +In the ante-room was a fresco painting by Georgione, in which +there were two <i>female</i> cherubs, the first of that sex I ever saw +represented. They were beautifully contrasted with the two +male cherubs, who completed the picture, and reminded me +strongly of Greenough's group in sculpture. After examining +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">252</a></span> +several rooms, tapestried and furnished in such a style as +befitted the palace of a Venetian noble, when Venice was in +her glory, we passed on to the gallery. The best picture in the +first room was a large one by Cigoli, <i>the bath of Cleopatra</i>. The +four attendants of the fair Egyptian are about her, and one is +bathing her feet from a rich vase. Her figure is rather a +voluptuous one, and her head is turned, but without alarm, to +Antony, who is just putting aside the curtain and entering the +room. It is a piece of fine coloring, rather of the Titian school, +and one of the few good pictures left by the English, who have +bought up almost all the private galleries of Venice.</p> + +<p>We stopped next at the stairs of the noble old <i>Barberigo</i> +Palace, in which Titian lived and died. We mounted the +decaying staircases, imagining the choice spirits of the great +painter's time, who had trodden them before us, and (as it was +for ages the dwelling of one of the proudest races of Venice) the +beauty and rank that had swept up and down those worn slabs of +marble on nights of revel, in the days when Venice was a paradise +of splendid pleasure. How thickly come romantic fancies +in such a place as this. We passed through halls hung with +neglected pictures to an inner room, occupied only with those of +Titian. Here he painted, and here is a picture half finished, as +he left it when he died. His famous <i>Magdalen</i>, hangs on the +wall, covered with dirt; and so, indeed, is everything in the +palace. The neglect is melancholy. On a marble table stood a +plaster bust of Titian, moulded by himself in his old age. It is +a most noble head, and it is difficult to look at it, and believe he +could have painted a picture which hangs just against it—<i>his own +daughter in the arms of a satyr</i>. There is an engraving from it +in one of the souvenirs; but instead of a satyr's head, she holds a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">253</a></span> +casket in her hands, which, though it does not sufficiently account +for the delight of her countenance, is an improvement upon the +original. Here, too, are several slight sketches of female heads, +by the same master. Oh how beautiful they are! There is one, +less than the size of life, which I would rather have than his +Magdalen.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I have spent my last day in Venice in visiting churches. +Their splendor makes the eye ache and the imagination weary. +You would think the surplus wealth of half the empires of the +world would scarce suffice to fill them as they are. I can give +you no descriptions. The gorgeous tombs of the Doges are interesting, +and the plain black monument over Marino Faliero made +me linger. Canova's tomb is splendid; and the simple slab +under your feet in the church of the Frari, where Titian lies with +his brief epitaph, is affecting—but, though I shall remember all +these, the simplest as well as the grandest, a description would +be wearisome to all who had not seen them. This evening at +sunset I start in the post-boat for the mainland, on my way to +the place of Juliet's tomb—Verona. My friends, the painters, +are so attracted with the galleries here that they remain to copy, +and I go back alone. Take a short letter from me this time, +and expect to hear from me by the next earliest opportunity, and +more at length. Adieu. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXXIV.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +DEPARTURE FROM VENICE—A SUNSET SCENE—PADUA—SPLENDID +HOTEL—MANNERS OF THE COUNTRY—VICENZA—MIDNIGHT—LADY +RETURNING FROM A PARTY—VERONA—JULIET'S +TOMB—THE TOMB OF THE CAPULETS—THE TOMBS OF THE +SCALIGERS—TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA—A WALKING CHRONICLE—PALACE +OF THE CAPULETS—ONLY COOL PLACE IN AN +ITALIAN CITY—BANQUETING HALL OF THE CAPULETS—FACTS +AND FICTION, ETC.</p> + +<p>We pushed from the post-office stairs in a gondola with six +oars at sunset. It was melancholy to leave Venice. A hasty +farewell look, as we sped down the grand canal, at the gorgeous +palaces, even less famous than beautiful—a glance at the disappearing +Rialto, and we shot out into the Giudecca in a blaze of +sunset glory. Oh how magnificently looked Venice in that light—rising +behind us from the sea—all her superb towers and +palaces, turrets and spires, fused into gold; and the waters about +her, like a mirror of stained glass, without a ripple!</p> + +<p>An hour and a half of hard rowing brought us to the nearest +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">255</a></span> +land. You should go to Venice to know how like a dream a +reality may be. You will find it difficult to realize, when you +smell once more the fresh earth and grass and flowers, and walk +about and see fields and mountains, that this city upon the sea +exists out of the imagination. You float to it and about it and +from it, in their light craft, so aerially, that it seems a vision.</p> + +<p>With a drive of two or three hours, half twilight, half moonlight, +we entered <i>Padua</i>. It was too late to see the portrait of +Petrarch, and I had not time to go to his tomb at Arqua, twelve +miles distant, so, musing on Livy and Galileo, to both of whom +Padua was a home, I inquired for a <i>café</i>. A new one had lately +been built in the centre of the town, quite the largest and most +thronged I ever saw. Eight or ten large, high-roofed halls were +open, and filled with tables, at which sat more beauty and fashion +than I supposed all Padua could have mustered. I walked +through one after another, without finding a seat, and was about +turning to go out, and seek a place of less pretension, when an +elderly lady, who sat with a party of seven, eating ices, rose, with +Italian courtesy, and offered me a chair at their table. I accepted +it, and made the acquaintance of eight as agreeable and polished +people as it has been my fortune to meet. We parted as if we +had known each other as many weeks as minutes. I mention it +as an instance of the manners of the country.</p> + +<p>Three hours more, through spicy fields and on a road lined +with the country-houses of the Venetian nobles, brought us to +<i>Vicenza</i>. It was past midnight, and not a soul stirring in the +bright moonlit streets. I remember it as a kind of city of the +dead. As we passed out of the opposite gate, we detained for a +moment a carriage, with servants in splendid liveries, and a lady +inside returning from a party, in full dress. I have rarely seen so +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">256</a></span> +beautiful a head. The lamps shone strongly on a broad pearl +fillet on her forehead, and lighted up features such as we do not +often meet even in Italy. A gentleman leaned back in the +corner of the carriage, fast asleep—probably her husband!</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I breakfasted at <i>Verona</i> at seven. A humpbacked <i>cicerone</i> +there took me to "Juliet's tomb." A very high wall, green +with age, surrounds what was once a cemetery, just outside the +city. An old woman answered the bell at the dilapidated gate, +and, without saying a word, pointed to an empty granite sarcophagus, +raised upon a rude pile of stones. "Questa?" asked I, +with a doubtful look. "Questa," said the old woman. +"Questa!" said the hunchback. And here, I was to believe, +lay the gentle Juliet! There was a raised place in the sarcophagus, +with a hollowed socket for the head, and it was about the +measure for a woman! I ran my fingers through the cavity, and +tried to imagine the dark curls that covered the hand of Father +Lawrence as he laid her down in the trance, and fitted her +beautiful head softly to the place. But where was "the tomb of +the Capulets?" The beldame took me through a cabbage-garden, +and drove off a donkey who was feeding on an artichoke +that grew on the very spot. "Ecco!" said she, pointing to one +of the slightly sunken spots on the surface. I deferred my +belief, and paying an extra paul for the privilege of chipping off +a fragment of the stone coffin, followed the cicerone.</p> + +<p>The <i>tombs of the Scaligers</i> were more authentic. They stand +in the centre of the town, with a highly ornamental railing about +them, and are a perfect mockery of death with their splendor. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">257</a></span> +If the poets and scholars whom these petty princes drew to their +court had been buried in these airy tombs beside them, one would +look at them with some interest. <i>Now</i>, one asks, "who were +the Scaligers, that their bodies should be lifted high in air in the +midst of a city, and kept for ages, in marble and precious +stones?" With less ostentation, however, it were pleasant to be +so disposed of after death, lifted thus into the sun, and in sight +of moving and living creatures.</p> + +<p>I inquired for the old palace of the Capulets. The cicerone +knew nothing about it, and I dismissed her and went into a <i>café</i>. +"Two gentlemen of Verona" sat on different sides; one reading, +the other asleep, with his chin on his cane—an old, white-headed +man, of about seventy. I sat down near the old gentleman, and +by the time I had eaten my ice, he awoke. I addressed him in +Italian, which I speak indifferently; but, stumbling for a word, +he politely helped me out in French, and I went on in that +language with my inquiries. He was the very man—a walking +chronicle of Verona. He took up his hat and cane to conduct me +to <i>casa Capuletti</i>, and on the way told me the true history, as I +had heard it before, which differs but little, as you know, from +Shakspeare's version. The whole story is in the annuals.</p> + +<p>After a half hour's walk among the handsomer, and more +modern parts of the city, we stopped opposite a house of an +antique construction, but newly stuccoed and painted. A wheelwright +occupied the lower story, and by the sign, the upper part +was used as a tavern. "Impossible!" said I, as I looked at the +fresh front and the staring sign. The old gentleman smiled, and +kept his cane pointed at it in silence. "It is well authenticated," +said he, after enjoying my astonishment a minute or two, "and the +interior still bears marks of a palace." We went in and mounted +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">258</a></span> +the dirty staircase to a large hall on the second floor. The +frescoes and cornices had not been touched, and I invited my +kind old friend to an early dinner on the spot. He accepted, +and we went back to the cathedral, and sat an hour in the only +cool place in an Italian city. The best dinner the house could +afford was ready when we returned, and a pleasanter one it has +never been my fortune to sit down to; though, for the meats, I +have eaten better. That I relished an hour in the very hall +where the masque must have been held, to which Romeo ventured +in the house of his enemy, to see the fair Juliet, you may easily +believe. The wine was not so bad, either, that my imagination +did not warm all fiction into fact; and another time, perhaps, I +may describe my old friend and the dinner more particularly. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXXV.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +ANOTHER SHORT LETTER—DEPARTURE FROM VERONA—MANTUA—FLEAS—MODENA—TASSONI'S +BUCKET—A MAN GOING TO EXECUTION—THE +DUKE OF MODENA—BOLOGNA—AUSTRIAN OFFICERS—THE +APPENINES—MOONLIGHT ON THE MOUNTAINS—ENGLISH +BRIDAL PARTY—PICTURESQUE SUPPER, ETC.</p> + +<p>I left Verona with the courier at sunset, and was at <i>Mantua</i> +in a few hours. I went to bed in a dirty hotel, the best in the +place, and awoke, bitten at every pore by fleas—the first I have +encountered in Italy, strange as it may seem, in a country that +swarms with them. For the next twenty-four hours I was in +such positive pain that my interest in "Virgil's birthplace" quite +evaporated. I hired a <i>caleche</i>, and travelled all night to <i>Modena</i>.</p> + +<p>I liked the town as I drove in, and after sleeping an hour or +two, I went out in search of "Tassoni's bucket" (which Rogers +says <i>is not the true one</i>), and the picture of "<i>Ginevra</i>." The +first thing I met was a man going to execution. He was a tall, +exceedingly handsome man; and, I thought, a marked gentleman, +even in his fetters. He was one of the body-guard of the +duke, and had joined a conspiracy against him, in which he had +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">260</a></span> +taken the first step by firing at him from a window as he passed. +I saw him guillotined, but I will spare you the description. The +duke is the worst tyrant in Italy, it is well known, and has been +fired at <i>eighteen times</i> in the streets. So said the cicerone, who +added, that "the d——l took care of his own." After many +fruitless inquiries, I could find nothing of "the picture," and I +took my place for Bologna in the afternoon.</p> + +<p>I was at Bologna at ten the next morning. As I felt rather +indisposed, I retained my seat with the courier for Florence; +and, hungry with travel and a long fast, went into a <i>restaurant</i>, +to make the best use of the hour given me for refreshment. A +party of Austrian officers sat at one end of the only table, +breakfasting; and here I experienced the first rudeness I have +seen in Europe. I mention it to show its rarity, and the manner +in which, even among military men, a quarrel is guarded against +or prevented. A young man, who seemed the wit of the party, +chose to make comments from time to time on the solidity of +what he considered my breakfast. These became at last so +pointed, that I was compelled to rise and demand an apology. +With one voice, all except the offender, immediately sided with +me, and insisted on the justice of the demand, with so many +apologies of their own, that I regretted noticing the thing at all. +The young man rose, after a minute, and offered me his hand in +the frankest manner; and then calling for a fresh bottle, they +drank wine with me, and I went back to my breakfast. In +America, such an incident would have ended, nine times out of +ten, in a duel.</p> + +<p>The two mounted <i>gens d'armes</i>, who usually attend the courier +at night, joined us as we began to ascend the Appenines. We +stopped at eleven to sup on the highest mountain between +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">261</a></span> +Bologna and Florence, and I was glad to get to the kitchen fire, +the clear moonlight was so cold. Chickens were turning on the +long spit, and sounds of high merriment came from the rooms +above. A <i>bridal party</i> of English had just arrived, and every +chamber and article of provision was engaged. They had +nothing to give us. A compliment to the hostess and a bribe to +the cook had their usual effect, however; and as one of the +dragoons had ridden back a mile or two for my travelling cap, +which had dropped off while I was asleep, I invited them both, +with the courier, to share my bribed supper. The cloth was +spread right before the fire, on the same table with all the cook's +paraphernalia, and a merry and picturesque supper we had of it. +The rough Tuscan flasks of wine and Etruscan pitchers, the +brazen helmets formed on the finest models of the antique, the +long mustaches, and dark Italian eyes of the men, all in the +bright light of a blazing fire, made a picture that Salvator Rosa +would have relished. We had time for a hasty song or two after +the dishes were cleared, and then went gayly on our way to +Florence.</p> + +<p>Excuse the brevity of this epistle, but I must stop here, or +lose the opportunity of sending. If my letters do not reach you +with the utmost regularity, it is no fault of mine. You can not +imagine the difficulty I frequently experience in getting a safe +conveyance. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXXVI.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +BATHS OF LUCCA—SARATOGA OF ITALY—HILL SCENERY—RIVER +LIMA—FASHIONABLE LODGINGS—THE VILLA—THE DUKE'S PALACE—MOUNTAINS—VALLEYS—COTTAGES—PEASANTS—WINDING-PATHS—AMUSEMENTS—PRIVATE +PARTIES—BALLS—FETES—A +CASINO—ORIGINALS OF SCOTT'S DIANA VERNON AND THE MISS +PRATT OF THE INHERITANCE—A SUMMER IN ITALY, ETC., ETC.</p> + +<p>I spent a week at the baths of Lucca, which is about sixty +miles north of Florence, and the Saratoga of Italy. None of the +cities are habitable in summer, for the heat, and there flocks all +the world to bathe and keep cool by day, and dance and intrigue +by night, from spring to autumn. It is very like the month of +June in our country in many respects, and the differences are +not disagreeable. The scenery is the finest of its kind in Italy. +The whole village is built about a bridge across the river Lima, +which meets the Serchio a half mile below. On both sides of the +stream the mountains rise so abruptly, that the houses are +erected against them, and from the summits on both sides you +look directly down on the street. Half-way up one of the hills +stands a cluster of houses, overlooking the valley to fine advantage, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">263</a></span> +and these are rather the most fashionable lodgings. Round +the base of this mountain runs the Lima, and on its banks for a +mile is laid out a superb road, at the extremity of which is another +cluster of buildings, called the Villa, composed of the +duke's palace and baths, and some fifty lodging-houses. This, +like the pavilion at Saratoga, is usually occupied by invalids and +people of more retired habits. I have found no hill scenery in +Europe comparable to the baths of Lucca. The mountains +ascend so sharply and join so closely, that two hours of the sun +are lost, morning and evening, and the heat is very little felt. +The valley is formed by four or five small mountains, which are +clothed from the base to the summit with the finest chestnut +woods; and dotted over with the nest-like cottages of the Luccese +peasants, the smoke from which, morning and evening, +breaks through the trees, and steals up to the summits with an +effect than which a painter could not conceive anything more +beautiful. It is quite a little paradise; and with the drives +along the river on each side at the mountain foot, and the trim +winding-paths in the hills, there is no lack of opportunity for the +freest indulgence of a love of scenery or amusement.</p> + +<p>Instead of living as we do in great hotels, the people at these +baths take their own lodgings, three or four families in a house, +and meet in their drives and walks, or in small exclusive parties. +The Duke gives a ball every Tuesday, to which all respectable +strangers are invited; and while I was there an Italian prince, +who married into the royal family of Spain, gave a grand <i>fete</i> at +the theatre. There is usually some party every night, and with +the freedom of a watering-place, they are rather the pleasantest +I have seen in Italy. The Duke's chamberlain, an Italian cavalier, +has the charge of a <i>casino</i>, or public hall, which is open day +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">264</a></span> +and night for conversation, dancing and play. The Italians frequent +it very much, and it is free to all well-dressed people; and +as there is always a band of music, the English sometimes make +up a party and spend the evening there in dancing or promenading. +It is maintained at the Duke's expense, lights, music, and +all, and he finds his equivalent in the profits of the gambling-bank.</p> + +<p>I scarce know who of the distinguished people I met there +would interest you. The village was full of coroneted carriages, +whose masters were nobles of every nation, and every reputation. +The originals of two well-known characters happened to be there—Scott's +<i>Diana Vernon</i>, and the <i>Miss Pratt</i> of the Inheritance. +The former is a Scotch lady, with five or six children; a tall, +superb woman still, with the look of a mountain-queen, who rode +out every night with two gallant boys mounted on ponies, and +dashing after her with the spirit you would bespeak for the sons +of Die Vernon. Her husband was the best horseman there, and +a "has been" handsome fellow, of about forty-five. An Italian +abbé came up to her one night, at a small party, and told her he +"wondered the king of England did not marry her." "Miss +Pratt" was the companion of an English lady of fortune, who +lived on the floor below me. She was still what she used to be, +a much-laughed-at but much-sought person, and it was quite +requisite to know her. She flew into a passion whenever the +book was named. The rest of the world there was very much +what it is elsewhere—a medley of agreeable and disagreeable, intelligent +and stupid, elegant and awkward. The <i>women</i> were +perhaps superior in style and manner to those ordinarily met in +such places in America, and the <i>men</i> vastly inferior. It is so +wherever I have been on the continent. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">265</a></span></p> + +<p>I remained at the baths a few weeks, recruiting—for the hot +weather and travel had, for the first time in my life, worn upon +me. They say that a summer in Italy is equal to five years elsewhere, +in its ravages upon the constitution, and so I found it. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXXVII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +RETURN TO VENICE—CITY OF LUCCA—A MAGNIFICENT WALL—A +CULTIVATED AND LOVELY COUNTRY—A COMFORTABLE +PALACE—THE DUKE AND DUCHESS OF LUCCA—THE APPENINES—MOUNTAIN +SCENERY—MODENA—VIEW OF AN IMMENSE +PLAIN—VINEYARDS AND FIELDS—AUSTRIAN TROOPS—A +PETTY DUKE AND A GREAT TYRANT—SUSPECTED +TRAITORS—LADIES UNDER ARREST—MODENESE NOBILITY—SPLENDOR +AND MEANNESS—CORREGIO'S BAG OF COPPER +COIN—PICTURE GALLERY—CHIEF OF THE CONSPIRATORS—OPPRESSIVE +LAWS—ANTIQUITY—MUSEUM—BOLOGNA—MANUSCRIPTS +OF TASSO AND ARIOSTO—THE PO—AUSTRIAN CUSTOM-HOUSE—POLICE +OFFICERS—DIFFICULTY ON BOARD THE +STEAMBOAT—VENICE ONCE MORE, ETC.</p> + +<p>After five or six weeks <i>sejour</i> at the baths of Lucca, the only +exception to the pleasure of which was an attack of the "country +fever," I am again on the road, with a pleasant party, bound for +Venice; but passing by cities I had not seen, I have been from +one place to another for a week, till I find myself to-day in Modena—a +place I might as well not have seen at all as to have +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">267</a></span> +hurried through, as I was compelled to do a month or two since. +To go back a little, however, our first stopping-place was the +city of Lucca, about fifteen miles from the baths; a little, clean, +beautiful gem of a town, with a wall three miles round only, and +on the top of it a broad carriage road, giving you on every side +views of the best cultivated and loveliest country in Italy. The +traveller finds nothing so rural and quiet, nothing so happy-looking, +in the whole land. The radius to the horizon is nowhere +more than five or six miles; and the bright green farms and +luxuriant vineyards stretch from the foot of the wall to the summits +of the lovely mountains which form the theatre around. It +is a very ancient town, but the duchy is so rich and flourishing +that it bears none of the marks of decay, so common to even +more modern towns in Italy. Here Cæsar is said to have +stopped to deliberate on passing the Rubicon.</p> + +<p>The palace of the Duke is the <i>prettiest</i> I ever saw. There is +not a room in it you could not <i>live</i> in—and no feeling is less +common than this in visiting palaces. It is furnished with +splendor, too—but with such an eye to comfort, such taste and +elegance, that you would respect the prince's affections that +should order such a one. The Duke of Lucca, however, is never +at home. He is a young man of twenty-eight or thirty, and +spends his time and money in travelling, as caprice takes him. +He has been now for a year at Vienna, where he spends the +revenue of these rich plains most lavishly. The Duchess, too, +travels always, but in a different direction, and the people complain +loudly of the desertion. For many years they have now +been both absent and parted. The Duke is a member of the +royal family of Spain, and at the death of Maria Louisa of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">268</a></span> +Parma, he becomes Duke of Parma, and the duchy goes to +Tuscany.</p> + +<p>From Lucca we crossed the Appenines, by a road seldom +travelled, performing the hundred miles to Modena in three +days. We suffered, as all must who leave the high roads in +continental countries, more privations than the novelty was +worth. The mountain scenery was fine, of course, but I think +less so than that on the passes between Florence and Bologna, +the account of which I wrote a few weeks since. We were too +happy to get to Modena.</p> + +<p>Modena lies in the vast campagna lying between the Appenines +and the Adriatic—an immense plain looking like the sea +as far as the eye can stretch from north to south. The view of +it from the mountains in descending is magnificent beyond description. +The capital of the little duchy lay in the midst of us, +like a speck on a green carpet, and smaller towns and rivers +varied its else unbroken surface of vineyards and fields. We +reached the gates just as a fine sunset was reddening the ramparts +and towers, and giving up our passports to the soldier on +guard, rattled into the hotel.</p> + +<p>The town is full of Austrian troops, and in our walk to the +ducal palace we met scarce any one else. The streets look +gloomy and neglected, and the people singularly dispirited and +poor. This petty Duke of Modena is a man of about fifty, and +said to be the greatest tyrant, after Don Miguel, in the world. +The prisons are full of suspected traitors; one hundred and +thirty of the best families of the duchy are banished for liberal +opinions; three hundred and over are now under arrest (among +them a considerable number of ladies); and many of the Modenese +nobility are now serving in the galleys for conspiracy. He +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">269</a></span> +has been shot at eighteen times. The last man who attempted +it, as I stated in a former letter, was executed the morning I +passed through Modena on my return from Venice. With all +this he is a fine soldier, and his capital looks in all respects like +a garrison in the first style of discipline. He is just now absent +at a chateau three miles in the country.</p> + +<p>The palace is a union of splendor and meanness within. The +endless succession of state apartments are gorgeously draped and +ornamented, but the entrance halls and intermediate passages are +furnished with an economy you would scarce find exceeded in the +"worst inn's worst room." Modena is Corregio's birthplace, +and it was from a Duke of Modena that he received the bag of +copper coin which occasioned his death. It was, I think, the +meagre reward of his celebrated "Night," and he broke a blood-vessel +in carrying it to his house. The Duke has sold this picture, +as well as every other sufficiently celebrated to bring a +princely price. His gallery is a heap of trash, with but here and +there a redeeming thing. Among others, there is a portrait of a +boy, I think by Rembrandt, very intellectual and lofty, yet with +all the youthfulness of fourteen; and a copy of "Giorgione's +mistress," the "love in life" of the Manfrini palace, so admired +by Lord Byron. There is also a remarkably fine crucifixion, I +forget by whom.</p> + +<p>The front of the palace is renowned for its beauty. In a +street near it, we passed a house half battered down by cannon. +It was the residence of the chief of a late conspiracy, who was +betrayed a few hours before his plot was ripe. He refused to +surrender, and, before the ducal troops had mastered his house, +the revolt commenced and the Duke was driven from Modena. +He returned in a week or two with some three thousand Austrians, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">270</a></span> +and has kept possession by their assistance ever since. +While we were waiting dinner at the hotel, I took up a volume +of the Modenese law, and opened upon a statute forbidding all +subjects of the duchy to live out of the Duke's territories under +pain of the entire confiscation of their property. They are liable +to arrest, also, if it is suspected that they are taking measures to +remove. The alternatives are oppression here or poverty elsewhere, +and the result is that the Duke has scarce a noble left in +his realm.</p> + +<p>Modena is a place of great antiquity. It was a strong-hold in +the time of Cæsar, and after his death was occupied by Brutus, +and besieged by Antony. There are no traces left, except some +mutilated and uncertain relics in the museum.</p> + +<p>We drove to Bologna the following morning, and I slept once +more in Rogers's chamber at "the Pilgrim." I have described +this city, which I passed on my way to Venice, so fully before, +that I pass it over now with the mere mention. I should not +forget, however, my acquaintance with a snuffy little librarian, +who showed me the manuscripts of Tasso and Ariosto, with +much amusing importance.</p> + +<p>We crossed the Po to the Austrian custom-house. Our +trunks were turned inside out, our papers and books examined, +our passports studied for flaws—as usual. After two hours of +vexation, we were permitted to go on board the steamboat, thanking +Heaven that our troubles were over for a week or two, and +giving Austria the common benediction she gets from travellers. +The ropes were cast off from the pier when a police retainer +came running to the boat, and ordered our whole party on shore, +bag and baggage. Our passports, which had been retained to be +sent on to Venice by the captain, were irregular. We had not +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">271</a></span> +passed by Florence, and they had not the signature of the Austrian +ambassador. We were ordered imperatively back over the +Po, with a flat assurance, that, without first going to Florence, we +never could see Venice. To the ladies of the party, who had +made themselves certain of seeing this romance of cities in +twelve hours, it was a sad disappointment, and after seeing them +safely seated in the return shallop, I thought I would go and +make a desperate appeal to the commissary in person. My +nominal commission as <i>attaché</i> to the Legation at Paris, served me +in this case as it had often done before, and making myself and +the honor of the American nation responsible for the innocent +designs of a party of ladies upon Venice, the dirty and surly +commissary signed our passports and permitted us to remand our +baggage.</p> + +<p>It was with unmingled pleasure that I saw again the towers +and palaces of Venice rising from the sea. The splendid approach +to the Piazzetta; the transfer to the gondola and its soft +motion; the swift and still glide beneath the balconies of palaces, +with whose history I was familiar; and the renewal of my own +first impressions in the surprise and delight of others, made up, +altogether, a moment of high happiness. There is nothing like—nothing +equal to Venice. She is the city of the imagination—the +realization of romance—the queen of splendor and softness +and luxury. Allow all her decay—feel all her degradation—see +the "Huns in her palaces," and the "Greek upon her mart," +and, after all, she is alone in the world for beauty, and, spoiled +as she has been by successive conquerors, almost for riches too. +Her churches of marble, with their floors of precious stones, and +walls of gold and mosaic; her ducal palace, with its world of art +and massy magnificence; her private palaces, with their fronts +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">272</a></span> +of inland gems, and balconies and towers of inimitable workmanship +and riches; her lovely islands and mirror-like canals—all +distinguish her, and will till the sea rolls over her, as one of the +wonders of time. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXXVIII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +VENICE—CHURCH OF THE JESUITS—A MARBLE CURTAIN—ORIGINAL +OF TITIAN'S MARTYRDOM OF ST. LAWRENCE—A SUMMER +MORNING—ARMENIAN ISLAND—VISIT TO A CLOISTER—A CELEBRATED +MONK—THE POET'S STUDY—ILLUMINATED COPIES OF +THE BIBLE—THE STRANGER'S BOOK—A CLEAN PRINTING-OFFICE—THE +HOSPITAL FOR THE INSANE—INNOCENT AND HAPPY-LOOKING +MANIACS—THE CELLS FOR UNGOVERNABLE LUNATICS—BARBARITY +OF THE KEEPER—MISERABLE PROVISIONS—ANOTHER +GLANCE AT THE PRISONS UNDER THE DUCAL PALACE—THE +OFFICE OF EXECUTIONER—THE ARSENAL—THE STATE GALLERY—THE +ARMOR OF HENRY THE FOURTH—A CURIOUS KEY—MACHINES +FOR TORTURE, ETC.</p> + +<p>In a first visit to a great European city it is difficult not to let +many things escape notice. Among several churches which I +did not see when I was here before, is that of the <i>Jesuits</i>. It is +a temple worthy of the celebrity of this splendid order. The +proportions are finer than those of most of the Venetian churches, +and the interior is one tissue of curious marbles and gold. As +we entered, we were first struck with the grace and magnificence +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">274</a></span> +of a large heavy curtain, hanging over the pulpit, the folds of +which, and the figures wrought upon it, struck us as unusually +elegant and ingenious. Our astonishment was not lessened when +we found it was one solid mass of verd-antique marble. Its sweep +over the side and front of the pulpit is as careless as if it were +done by the wind. The whole ceiling of the church is covered +with <i>sequin gold</i>—the finest that is coined. In one of the side +chapels is the famous "Martyrdom of St. Lawrence," by Titian. +A fine copy of it (said in the catalogue to be the original) was +exhibited in the Boston Athenæum a year or two since.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>It is Sunday, and the morning has been of a heavenly, summer, +sunny calmness, such as is seen often in Italy, and once in +a year, perhaps, in New England. It is a kind of atmosphere, +that, to breathe is to be grateful and happy. We have been to +the Armenian island—a little gem on the bosom of the Lagune, +a mile from Venice, where stands the monastery, to which place +Lord Byron went daily to study and translate with the fathers. +There is just room upon it for a church, a convent, and a little +garden. It looks afloat on the water. Our gondola glided up to +the clean stone stairs, and we were received by one of the order, +a hale but venerable looking monk, in the Armenian dress, the +long black cassock and small round cap, his beard long and scattered +with gray, and his complexion and eyes of a cheerful, +child-like clearness, such as regular and simple habits alone can +give. I inquired, as we walked through the cloister, for the +father with whom Lord Byron studied, and of whom the poet +speaks so often and so highly in his letters. The monk smiled +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">275</a></span> +and bowed modestly, and related a little incident that had happened +to him at Padua, where he had met two American travellers, +who had asked him of himself in the same manner. He had +forgotten their names, but from his description I presumed one +to have been Professor Longfellow, of Bowdoin University.</p> + +<p>The stillness and cleanliness about the convent, as we passed +through the cloisters and halls, rendered the impression upon a +stranger delightful. We passed the small garden, in which grew +a stately oleander in full blossom, and thousands of smaller +flowers, in neat beds and vases, and after walking through the +church, a plain and pretty one, we came to the library, where +the monk had studied with the poet. It is a proper place for +study—disturbed by nothing but the dash of oars from a passing +gondola, or the screams of a sea-bird, and well furnished with +books in every language, and very luxurious chairs. The monk +showed us an encyclopædia, presented to himself by an English +lady of rank, who had visited the convent often. His handsome +eyes flashed as he pointed to it on the shelves. We went next +into a smaller room, where the more precious manuscripts are +deposited, and he showed us curious illuminated copies of the +Bible, and gave us the stranger's book to inscribe our names. +Byron had scrawled his there before us, and the Empress +Maria Louisa had written hers twice on separate visits. The +monk then brought us a volume of prayers, in twenty-five languages, +translated by himself. We bought copies, and upon +some remark of one of the ladies upon his acquirements, he ran +from one language to another, speaking English, French, +Italian, German, and Dutch, with equal facility. His English +was quite wonderful; and a lady from Rotterdam, who was with +us, pronounced his Dutch and German excellent. We then +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">276</a></span> +bought small histories of the order, written by an English gentleman, +who had studied at the island, and passed on to the +printing office—the first <i>clean</i> one I ever saw, and quite the best +appointed. Here the monks print their Bibles, and prayer-books +in really beautiful Armenian type, beside almanacs, and +other useful publications for Constantinople, and other parts of +Turkey. The monk wrote his name at our request (Pascal +Aucher) in the blank leaves of our books, and we parted from +him at the water-stairs with sincere regret. I recommend this +monastery to all travellers to Venice.</p> + +<p>On our return we passed near an island, upon which stands a +single building—an insane hospital. I was not very curious to +enter it, but the gondolier assured us that it was a common visit +for strangers, and we consented to go in. We were received by +the keeper, who went through the horrid scene like a regular +cicerone, giving us a cold and rapid history of every patient that +arrested our attention. The men's apartment was the first, and +I should never have supposed them insane. They were all silent, +and either read or slept like the inmates of common hospitals. +We came to a side door, and as it opened, the confusion of a +hundred tongues burst through, and we were introduced into the +apartment for women. The noise was deafening. After traversing +a short gallery, we entered a large hall, containing perhaps +fifty females. There was a simultaneous smoothing back of the +hair and prinking of the dress through the room. These the +keeper said, were the well-behaved patients, and more innocent +and happy-looking people I never saw. If to be happy is to be +wise, I should believe with the mad philosopher, that the world +and the lunatic should change names. One large, fine-looking +woman took upon herself to do the honors of the place, and came +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">277</a></span> +forward with a graceful curtesy and a smile of condescension and +begged the ladies to take off their bonnets, and offered me a chair. +Even with her closely-shaven head and coarse flannel dress, she +seemed a lady. The keeper did not know her history. Her +attentions were occasionally interrupted by a stolen glance at the +keeper, and a shrinking in of the shoulders, like a child that had +been whipped. One handsome and perfectly healthy-looking girl +of eighteen, walked up and down the hall, with her arms folded, +and a sweet smile on her face, apparently lost in pleasing thought, +and taking no notice of us. Only one was in bed, and her face +might have been a conception of Michael Angelo for horror. +Her hair was uncut, and fell over her eyes, her tongue hung +from her mouth, her eyes were sunken and restless, and the +deadly pallor over features drawn into the intensest look of +mental agony, completing a picture that made my heart sick. +Her bed was clean, and she was as well cared for as she could be, +apparently.</p> + +<p>We mounted a flight of stairs to the cells. Here were confined +those who were violent and ungovernable. The mingled sounds +that came through the gratings as we passed were terrific. +Laughter of a demoniac wildness, moans, complaints in every +language, screams—every sound that could express impatience +and fear and suffering saluted our ears. The keeper opened +most of the cells and went in, rousing occasionally one that was +asleep, and insisting that all should appear at the grate. I +remonstrated of course, against such a piece of barbarity, but he +said he did it for all strangers, and took no notice of our pity. +The cells were small, just large enough for a bed, upon the post +of which hung a small coarse cloth bag, containing two or three +loaves of the coarsest bread. There was no other furniture. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">278</a></span> +The beds were bags of straw, without sheets or pillows, and each +had a coarse piece of matting for a covering. I expressed some +horror at the miserable provision made for their comfort, but was +told that they broke and injured themselves with any loose furniture, +and were so reckless in their habits, that it was impossible to +give them any other bedding than straw, which was changed every +day. I observed that each patient had a wisp of long straw tied +up in a bundle, given them, as the keeper said, to employ their +hands and amuse them. The wooden blind before one of the +gratings was removed, and a girl flew to it with the ferocity of a +tiger, thrust her hands at us through the bars, and threw her +bread out into the passage, with a look of violent and uncontrolled +anger such as I never saw. She was tall and very fine-looking. +In another cell lay a poor creature, with her face dreadfully +torn, and her hands tied strongly behind her. She was tossing +about restlessly upon her straw, and muttering to herself indistinctly. +The man said she tore her face and bosom whenever +she could get her hands free, and was his worst patient. In the +last cell was a girl of eleven or twelve years, who began to cry +piteously the moment the bolt was drawn. She was in bed, and +uncovered her head very unwillingly, and evidently expected to +be whipped. There was another range of cells above, but we +had seen enough, and were glad to get out upon the calm +Lagune. There could scarcely be a stronger contrast than +between those two islands lying side by side—the first the very +picture of regularity and happiness, and the last a refuge for +distraction and misery. The feeling of gratitude to God for +reason after such a scene is irresistible.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">279</a></span></p> + +<p>In visiting again the prisons under the ducal palace, several +additional circumstances were told us. The condemned were +compelled to become executioners. They were led from their +cells into the dark passage where stood the secret guillotine, and +without warning forced to put to death a fellow-creature either +by this instrument, or the more horrible method of strangling +against a grate. The guide said that the office of executioner +was held in such horror that it was impossible to fill it, and hence +this dreadful alternative. When a prisoner was about to be +executed, his clothes were sent home to his family with the +message, that "the state would care for him." How much more +agonizing do these circumstances seem, when we remember that +most of the victims were men of rank and education, condemned +on suspicion of political crimes, and often with families refined to +a most unfortunate capacity for mental torture! One ceases to +regret the fall of the Venetian republic, when he sees with how +much crime and tyranny her splendor was accompanied.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I saw at the arsenal to-day the model of the "Bucentaur," the +state galley in which the Doge of Venice went out annually to +marry him to the sea. This poetical relic (which, in Childe +Harold's time, "lay rotting unrestored") was burnt by the +French—why, I can not conceive. It was a departure from their +usual habit of respect to the curious and beautiful; and if they had +been jealous of such a vestige of the grandeur of a conquered +people, it might at least have been sent to Paris as easily as +"Saint Mark's steeds of brass," and would have been as great a +curiosity. I would rather have seen the Bucentaur than all their +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">280</a></span> +other plunder. The arsenal contains many other treasures. +The armor given to the city of Venice by Henry the Fourth is +there, and a curious key constructed to shoot poisoned needles, +and used by one of the Henrys, I have forgotten which, to +despatch any one who offended him in his presence. One or +two curious machines for torture were shown us—mortars into +which the victim was put, with an iron armor which was screwed +down upon him till his head was crushed, or confession stopped +the torture. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XXXIX.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +VENICE—SAN MARC'S CHURCH—RECOLLECTIONS OF HOME—FESTA +AT THE LIDO—A POETICAL SCENE—AN ITALIAN SUNSET—PALACE +OF MANFRINI—PESARO'S PALACE AND COUNTRY +RESIDENCE—CHURCH OE SAINT MARY OF NAZARETH—PADUA—THE +UNIVERSITY—STATUES OF DISTINGUISHED FOREIGNERS +THE PUBLIC PALACE—BUST OF TITUS LIVY—BUST OF PETRARCH—CHURCH +OF ST. ANTONY DURING MASS—THE SAINT'S +CHIN AND TONGUE—MARTYRDOM OF ST. AGATHA—AUSTRIAN +AND GERMAN SOLDIERS—TRAVELLER'S RECORD-BOOK—PETRARCH'S +COTTAGE AND TOMB—ITALIAN SUMMER AFTERNOON—THE +POET'S HOUSE—A FINE VIEW—THE ROOM WHERE +PETRARCH DIED, ETC.</p> + +<p>I was loitering down one of the gloomy aisles of San Marc's +church, just at twilight this evening, listening to the far-off Ave +Maria in one of the distant chapels, when a Boston gentleman, +who I did not know was abroad, entered with his family, and +passed up to the altar. It is difficult to conceive with what a +tide the half-forgotten circumstances of a home, so far away, +rush back upon one's heart in a strange land, after a long +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">282</a></span> +absence, at the sight of familiar faces. I could realize nothing +about me after it—the glittering mosaic of precious stones under +my feet, the gold and splendid colors of the roof above me, the +echoes of the monotonous chant through the arches—foreign and +strange as these circumstances all were. I was irresistibly at +home, the familiar pictures of my native place filling my eye, and +the recollections of those whom I love and honor there crowding +upon my heart with irresistible emotion. The feeling is a painful +one, and with the necessity for becoming again a forgetful +wanderer, remembering home only as a dream, one shrinks from +such things. The reception of a letter, even, destroys a day.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>There has been a grand <i>festa</i> to-day at the <i>Lido</i>. This, you +know, is a long island, forming part of the sea-wall of Venice. +It is, perhaps, five or six miles long, covered in part with groves +of small trees, and a fine green sward; and to the Venetians, to +whom leaves and grass are holyday novelties, is the scene of their +gayest <i>festas</i>. They were dancing and dining under the trees; +and in front of the fort which crowns the island, the Austrian +commandant had pitched his tent, and with a band of military +music, the officers were waltzing with ladies in a circle of green +sward, making altogether a very poetical scene. We passed an +hour or two wandering among this gay and unconscious people, +and came home by one of the loveliest sunsets that ever melted +sea and sky together. Venice looked like a vision of a city +hanging in mid-air.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">283</a></span></p> + +<p>We have been again to that delightful <i>palace of Manfrini</i>. +The "Portia swallowing fire," the Rembrandt portrait, the +far-famed "Giorgione, son and wife," and twenty others, which +to see is to be charmed, delighted me once more. I believe the +surviving Manfrini is the only noble left in Venice. <i>Pesaro</i>, +who disdained to live in his country after its liberty was gone, +died lately in London. His palace here is the finest structure I +have seen, and his country-house on the Brenta is a paradise. It +must have been a strong feeling which exiled him from them for +eighteen years.</p> + +<p>In coming from the Manfrini, we stopped at the church of +"St. Mary of Nazareth." This is one of those whose cost might +buy a kingdom. Its gold and marbles oppress one with their +splendor. In the centre of the ceiling is a striking fresco of the +bearing of "Loretto's chapel through the air;" and in one of the +corners a lovely portrait of a boy looking over a balustrade, done +by the artist <i>fourteen years of age</i>!</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padua.</span>—We have passed two days in this venerable city of +learning, including a visit to Petrarch's tomb at Arqua. The +university here is still in its glory, with fifteen hundred students. +It has never declined, I believe, since Livy's time. The beautiful +inner court has two or three galleries, crowded with the arms of +the nobles and distinguished individuals who have received its +honors. It has been the "cradle of princes" from every part of +Europe.</p> + +<p>Around one of the squares of the city, stand forty or fifty +statues of the great and distinguished foreigners who have +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">284</a></span> +received their education here. It happened to be the month +of vacation, and we could not see the interior.</p> + +<p>At a public palace, so renowned for the size and singular +architecture of its principal hall, we saw a very antique bust of +Titus Livy—a fine, cleanly-chiselled, scholastic old head, that +looked like the spirit of Latin embodied. We went thence to the +Duomo, where they show a beautiful bust of Petrarch, who lived +at Padua some of the latter years of his life. It is a softer and +more voluptuous countenance than is given him in the pictures.</p> + +<p>The church of Saint Antony here has stood just six hundred +years. It occupied a century in building, and is a rich and noble +old specimen of the taste of the times, with eight cupolas and +towers, twenty-seven chapels inside, four immense organs, and +countless statues and pictures. Saint Antony's body lies in the +midst of the principal chapel, which is surrounded with relievos +representing his miracles, done in the best manner of the glorious +artists of antiquity. We were there during mass, and the people +were nearly suffocating themselves in the press to touch the altar +and tomb of the saint. This chapel was formerly lit by massive +silver lamps, which Napoleon took, presenting them with their +models in gilt. He also exacted from them three thousand +sequins for permission to retain the chin and tongue of St. +Antony, which works miracles still, and are preserved in a +splendid chapel with immense brazen doors. Behind the main +altar I saw a harrowing picture by Tiepoli, of the martyrdom of +St. Agatha. Her breasts are cut off, and lying in a dish. The +expression in the face of the dying woman is painfully well done.</p> + +<p>Returning to the inn, we passed a magnificent palace on one +of the squares, upon whose marble steps and column-bases, sat +hundreds of brutish Austrian troops, smoking and laughing at the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">285</a></span> +passers-by. This is a sight you may see now through all Italy. The +palaces of the proudest nobles are turned into barracks for foreign +troops, and there is scarce a noble old church or monastery that +is not defiled with their filth. The German soldiers are, without +exception, the most stolid and disagreeable looking body of men +I ever saw; and they have little to soften the indignant feeling +with which one sees them rioting in this lovely and oppressed +country.</p> + +<p>We passed an hour before bedtime in the usual amusement of +travellers in a foreign hotel—reading the traveller's record-book. +Walter Scott's name was written there, and hundreds of distinguished +names besides. I was pleased to find, on a leaf far +back, "Edward Everett," written in his own round legible hand. +There were at least the names of fifty Americans within the dates +of the year past—such a wandering nation we are. Foreigners +express their astonishment always at their numbers in these +cities.</p> + +<p>On the afternoon of the next day, we went to Arqua, on a +pilgrimage to Petrarch's cottage and tomb. It was an Italian +summer afternoon, and the Euganean hills were rising green and +lovely, with the sun an hour high above them, and the yellow of +the early sunset already commencing to glow about the horizon.</p> + +<p>We left the carriage at the "pellucid lake," and went into the +hills a mile, plucking the ripe grapes which hung over the road +in profusion. We were soon at the little village and the tomb, +which stands just before the church door, "reared in air." The +four laurels Byron mentions are dead. We passed up the hill to +the poet's house, a rural stone cottage, commanding a lovely +view of the campagna from the portico. Sixteen villages may be +counted from the door, and the two large towns of Rovigo and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">286</a></span> +Ferrara are distinguishable in a clear atmosphere. It was a +retreat fit for a poet. We went through the rooms, and saw the +poet's cat, stuffed and exhibited behind a wire grating, his chair +and desk, his portrait in fresco, and Laura's, and the small +closet-like room where he died. It was an interesting visit, and +we returned by the golden twilight of this heavenly climate, +repeating Childe Harold, and wishing for his pen to describe +afresh the scene about us. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XL.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +EXCURSION FROM VENICE TO VERONA—TRUTH OF BYRON'S DESCRIPTION +OF ITALIAN SCENERY—THE LOMBARDY PEASANTRY—APPEARANCE +OF THE COUNTRY—MANNER OF CULTIVATING +THE VINE ON LIVING TREES—THE VINTAGE—ANOTHER VISIT +TO JULIET'S TOMB—THE OPERA AT VERONA—THE PRIMA +DONNA—ROMAN AMPHITHEATRE—BOLOGNA AGAIN—MADAME +MALIBRAN IN LA GAZZA LADRA—CHEAP LUXURIES—THE +PALACE OF THE LAMBACCARI—A MAGDALEN OF GUIDO CARRACCI—CHARLES +THE SECOND'S BEAUTIES—VALLEY OF THE +ARNO—FLORENCE ONCE MORE.</p> + +<p>Our gondola set us on shore at Fusina an hour or two before +sunset, with a sky (such as we have had for five months) without +a cloud, and the same promise of a golden sunset, to which I +have now become so accustomed, that rain and a dark heaven +would seem to me almost unnatural. It was the hour and the +spot at which Childe Harold must have left Venice, and we look +at the "blue Friuli mountains," the "deep-died Brenta," and +the "Rhœtian hill," and feel the truth of his description as +well as its beauty. The two banks of the Brenta are studded with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">288</a></span> +the palaces of the Venetian nobles for almost twenty miles, and +the road runs close to the water on the northern side, following +all its graceful windings, and, at every few yards, surprising the +traveller with some fresh scene of cultivated beauty, church, +palace, or garden, while the gondolas on the stream, and the fair +"damas" of Italy sitting under the porticoes, enliven and brighten +the picture. These people live out of doors, and the road was +thronged with the <i>contadini</i>; and here and there rolled by a carriage, +with servants in livery; or a family of the better class on +their evening walk, sauntered along at the Italian pace of indolence, +and a finer or happier looking race of people would not +easily be found. It is difficult to see the athletic frames and +dark flashing eyes of the Lombardy peasantry, and remember +their degraded condition. You cannot believe it will remain +so. If they think at all, they must, in time, feel too deeply to +endure.</p> + +<p>The guide-book says, the "traveller wants words to express +his sensations at the beauty of the country from Padua to +Verona." Its beauty is owing to the perfection of a method of +cultivation universal in Italy. The fields are divided into handsome +squares, by rows of elms or other forest trees, and the vines +are trained upon these with all the elegance of holyday festoons, +winding about the trunks, and hanging with their heavy clusters +from one to the other, the foliage of vine and tree mingled so +closely that it appears as if they sprung from the same root. +Every square is perfectly enclosed with these fantastic walls of +vine-leaves and grapes, and the imagination of a poet could conceive +nothing more beautiful for a festival of Bacchus. The +ground between is sown with grass or corn. The vines are luxuriant +always, and often send their tendrils into the air higher +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">289</a></span> +than the topmost branch of the tree, and this extends the whole +distance from Padua to Verona, with no interruption except the +palaces and gardens of the nobles lying between.</p> + +<p>It was just the season for gathering and pressing the grape, +and the romantic vineyards were full of the happy peasants, of +all ages, mounting the ladders adventurously for the tall clusters, +heaping the baskets and carts, driving in the stately gray oxen +with their loads, and talking and singing as merrily as if it were +Arcadia. Oh how beautiful these scenes are in Italy. The +people are picturesque, the land is like the poetry of nature, +the habits are all as they were described centuries ago, and as the +still living pictures of the glorious old masters represent them. +The most every-day traveller smiles and wonders, as he lets down +his carriage windows to look at the vintage.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>We have been three or four days in Verona, visiting Juliet's +tomb, and riding through the lovely environs. The opera here +is excellent, and we went last night to see "Romeo and Juliet" +performed in the city renowned by their story. The <i>prima donna</i> +was one of those syrens found often in Italy—a young singer of +great promise, with that daring brilliancy which practice and +maturer science discipline, to my taste, too severely. It was +like the wild, ungovernable trill of a bird, and my ear is not so +nice yet, that I even would not rather feel a roughness in the +harmony than lose it. Malibran delighted me more in America +than in Paris.</p> + +<p>The opera was over at twelve, and, as we emerged from the +crowded lobby, the moon full, and as clear and soft as the eye of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">290</a></span> +a child, burst through the arches of the portico. The theatre is +opposite the celebrated Roman amphitheatre, and the wish to +visit it by moonlight was expressed spontaneously by the whole +party. The <i>custode</i> was roused, and we entered the vast arena +and stood in the midst, with the gigantic ranges of stone seats +towering up in a receding circle, as if to the very sky, and the +lofty arches and echoing dens lying black and silent in the dead +shadows of the moon. A hundred thousand people could sit here; +and it was in these arenas, scattered through the Roman provinces, +that the bloody gladiator fights, and the massacre of +Christians, and every scene of horror, amused the subjects of the +mighty mistress of the world. You would never believe it, if you +could have seen how peacefully the moonlight now sleeps on the +moss-gathering walls, and with what untrimmed grace the vines +and flowers creep and blossom on the rocky crevices of the +windows.</p> + +<p>We arrived at Bologna just in time to get to the opera. Malibran +in <i>La Gazza Ladra</i> was enough to make one forget more +than the fatigue of a day's travel. She sings as well as ever +and plays much better, though she had been ill, and looked thin. +In the prison scene, she was ghastlier even than the character required. +There are few pleasures in Europe like such singing as +hers, and the Italians, in their excellent operas, and the cheap +rate at which they can be frequented, have a resource corresponding +to everything else in their delightful country. Every +comfort and luxury is better and cheaper in Italy than elsewhere, +and it is a pity that he who can get his wine for three cents a +bottle, his dinner and his place at the opera for ten, and has +lodgings for anything he chooses to pay, can not find leisure, and +does not think it worth the trouble, to look about for means to be +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">291</a></span> +free. It is vexatious to see nature lavishing such blessings on +slaves.</p> + +<p>The next morning we visited a palace, which, as it is not +mentioned in the guide-books of travel, I had not before seen—the +<i>Lambaccari</i>. It was full of glorious pictures, most of them +for sale. Among others we were captivated with a Magdalen of +unrivalled sweetness by <i>Guido Carracci</i>. It has been bought +since by Mr. Cabot, of Boston, who passed through Bologna the +day after, and will be sent to America, I am happy to say, +immediately. There were also six of "Charles the Second's +beauties,"—portraits of the celebrated women of that gay monarch's +court, by Sir Peter Lely—ripe, glowing English women, +more voluptuous than chary-looking, but pictures of exquisite +workmanship. There were nine or ten apartments to this splendid +palace, all crowded with paintings by the first masters, and +the surviving Lambaccari is said to be selling them one by one +for bread. It is really melancholy to go through Italy, and see +how her people are suffering, and her nobles starving under +oppression.</p> + +<p>We crossed the Appenines in two of the finest days that ever +shone, and descending through clouds and mist to the Tuscan +frontier, entered the lovely valley of the Arno, sparkling in the +sunshine, with all its palaces and spires, as beautiful as ever. I +am at Florence once more, and parting from the delightful party +with whom I have travelled for two months. I start for Rome +to-morrow, in company with five artists. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XLI.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +JOURNEY TO THE ETERNAL CITY—TWO ROADS TO ROME—SIENNA—THE +PUBLIC SQUARE—AN ITALIAN FAIR—THE CATHEDRAL—THE +LIBRARY—THE THREE GRECIAN GRACES—DANDY OFFICERS—PUBLIC +PROMENADE—LANDSCAPE VIEW—LONG GLEN—A +WATERFALL—A CULTIVATED VALLEY—THE TOWN OF AQUAPENDENTE—SAN +LORENZO—PLINY'S FLOATING ISLANDS—MONTEFIASCONE—VITERBO—PROCESSION +OF FLOWER AND DANCING +GIRLS TO THE VINTAGE—ASCENT OF THE MONTECIMINO—THE +ROAD OF THIEVES—LAKE VICO—BACCANO—MOUNT SORACTE—DOME +OF ST. PETER'S, ETC.</p> + +<p>I left Florence in company with the five artists mentioned +in my last letter, one of them an Englishman, and the other four +pensioners of the royal academy at Madrid. The Spaniards had +but just arrived in Italy, and could not speak a syllable of the +language. The Englishman spoke everything but French, which +he avoided learning <i>from principle</i>. He "hated a Frenchman!"</p> + +<p>There are two roads to Rome. One goes by Sienna, and is a +day shorter; the other by Perugia, the Falls of Terni, Lake +Thrasymene, and the Clitumnus. Childe Harold took the latter, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">293</a></span> +and his ten or twelve best cantos describe it. I was compelled +to go by Sienna, and shall return, of course, by the other road.</p> + +<p>I was at Sienna on the following day. As the second capital +of Tuscany, this should be a place of some interest, but an hour +or two is more than enough to see all that is attractive. The +public square was a gay scene. It was rather singularly situated, +lying fifteen or twenty feet lower than the streets about it. I +should think there were several thousand people in its area—all +buying or selling, and vociferating, as usual, at the top of their +voices. We heard the murmur, like the roar of the sea, in all +the distant streets. There are few sights more picturesque than +an Italian fair, and I strolled about in the crowd for an hour, +amused with the fanciful costumes, and endeavoring to make out +with the assistance of the eye, what rather distracted my unaccustomed +ear—the cries of the various wandering venders of merchandise. +The women, who were all from the country, were +coarse, and looked well only at a distance.</p> + +<p>The cathedral is the great sight of Sienna. It has a rich +exterior, encrusted with curiously wrought marbles, and the front, +as far as I can judge, is in beautiful taste. The pavement of the +interior is very precious, and covered with a wooden platform, +which is removed but once a year. The servitor raised a part of +it, to show us the workmanship. It was like a drawing in India +ink, quite as fine as if pencilled, and representing, as is customary, +some miracle of a saint.</p> + +<p>A massive iron door, made ingeniously to imitate a rope-netting, +opens from the side of the church into the <i>library</i>. It contained +some twenty volumes in black letter, bound with enormous clasps +and placed upon inclined shelves. It would have been a task for +a man of moderate strength to lift either of them from the floor. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">294</a></span> +The little sacristan found great difficulty in only opening one to +show us the letter.</p> + +<p>In the centre of the chapel on a high pedestal, stands the +original antique group, so often copied, of the three Grecian +Graces. It is shockingly mutilated; but its original beauty is +still in a great measure discernable. Three naked women are +an odd ornament for the private chapel of a cathedral.<a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> One +often wonders, however, in Italian churches, whether his devotion +is most called upon by the arts or the Deity.</p> + +<p>As we were leaving the church, four young officers passed us +in gay uniform, their long steel scabbards rattling on the pavement, +and their heavy tread disturbing visibly every person +present. As I turned to look after them, with some remark on +their coxcombry, they dropped on their knees at the bases of the +tall pillars about the altar, and burying their faces in their +caps, bowed their heads nearly to the floor, in attitudes of the +deepest devotion. Sincere or not, Catholic worshippers of all +classes <i>seem</i> absorbed in their religious duties. You can scarce +withdraw the attention even of a child in such places. In the six +months that I have been in Italy, I never saw anything like +irreverence within the church walls.</p> + +<p>The public promenade, on the edge of the hill upon which the +town is beautifully situated, commands a noble view of the country +about. The peculiar landscape of Italy lay before us in all +its loveliness—the far-off hills lightly tinted with the divided +colors of distance, the atmosphere between absolutely clear and +invisible, and villages clustered about, each with its ancient castle +on the hill-top above, just as it was settled in feudal times, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">295</a></span> +as painters and poets would imagine it. You never get a view +in this "garden of the world" that would not excuse very +extravagant description.</p> + +<p>Sienna is said to be the best place for learning the language. +Just between Florence and Rome, it combines the "<i>lingua +Toscano</i>," with the "<i>bocca Romano</i>"—the Roman pronunciation +with the Florentine purity of language. It looks like a dull +place, however, and I was very glad after dinner to resume my +passport at the gate and get on.</p> + +<p>The next morning, after toiling up a considerable ascent, we +suddenly rounded the shoulder of a mountain, and found ourselves +at the edge of a long glen, walled up at one extremity by a precipice +with an old town upon its brow, and a waterfall pouring off +at its side, and opening away at the other into a broad, gently-sloped +valley, cultivated like a garden as far as the eye could +distinguish. I think I have seen an engraving of it in the +Landscape Annual. Taken together, it is positively the most +beautiful view I ever saw, from the road edge, as you wind up +into the town of <i>Acquapendente</i>. The precipice might be a +hundred feet, and from its immediate edge were built up the +walls of the houses, so that a child at the window might throw +its plaything into the bottom of the ravine. It is scarce a +pistol-shot across the glen, and the two hills on either side lean +off from the level of the town in one long soft declivity to the +valley—the little river which pours off the rock at the very base +of the church, fretting and fuming its way between to the meadows—its +stony bed quite hidden by the thick vegetation of its banks. +The bells were ringing to mass, and the echoes came back to us +at long distances with every modulation. The streets, as we +entered the town, were full of people hurrying to the churches; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">296</a></span> +the women with their red shawls thrown about their heads, and +the men with their immense dingy cloaks flung romantically over +their shoulders, with a grace, one and all, that in a Parisian +dandy, would be attributed to a consummate study of effect. For +outline merely, I think there is nothing in costume which can +surpass the closely-stockinged leg, heavy cloak, and slouched hat +of an Italian peasant. It is added to by his indolent, and, consequently, +graceful motion and attitudes. Johnson, in his book +on the climate of Italy, says their sloth is induced by <i>malaria</i>. +You will see a man watching goats or sheep, with his back +against a rock, quite motionless for hours together. His dog +feels, apparently, the same influence, and lies couched in his long +white hair, with his eyes upon the flock, as lifeless, and almost as +picturesque, as his master.</p> + +<p>The town of San Lorenzo is a handful of houses on the top of +a hill which hangs over Lake Bolsena. You get the first view of +the lake as you go out of the gate toward Rome, and descend +immediately to its banks. There was a heavy mist upon the +water, and we could not see across, but it looked like as quiet and +pleasant a shore as might be found in the world—the woods wild, +and of uncommonly rich foliage for Italy, and the slopes of the +hills beautiful. Saving the road, and here and there a house with +no sign of an inhabitant, there can scarcely be a lonelier wilderness +in America. We stopped two hours at an inn on its banks, +and whether it was the air, or the influence of the perfect stillness +about us, my companions went to sleep, and I could scarce +resist my own drowsiness.</p> + +<p>The mist lifted a little from the lake after dinner, and we saw +the two islands said by Pliny to have floated, in his time. They +look like the tops of green hills rising from the water. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">297</a></span></p> + +<p>It is a beautiful country again as you approach Montefiascone. +The scenery is finely broken up with glens formed by columns of +basalt, giving it a look of great wildness. Montefiascone is +built on the river of one of these ravines. We stopped here +long enough to get a bottle of the wine for which the place is +famous, drinking it to the memory of the "German prelate," +who, as Madame Stark relates, "stopped here on his journey to +Rome, and died of drinking it to excess." It has degenerated, +probably, since his time, or we chanced upon a bad bottle.</p> + +<p>The walls of <i>Viterbo</i> are flanked with towers, and have a noble +appearance from the hill-side on which the town stands. We +arrived too late to see anything of the place. As we were taking +coffee at the <i>café</i> the next morning, a half hour before daylight, +we heard music in the street, and looking out at the door, we +saw a long procession of young girls, dressed with flowers in their +hair, and each playing a kind of cymbal, and half dancing as she +went along. Three or four at the head of the procession sung a +kind of verse, and the rest joined in a short merry chorus at +intervals. It was more like a train of Corybantes than anything +I had seen. We inquired the object of it, and were told it was a +procession <i>to the vintage</i>. They were going out to pluck the last +grapes, and it was the custom to make it a festa. It was a +striking scene in the otherwise perfect darkness of the streets, the +torch-bearers at the sides waving their flambeaux regularly over +their heads, and shouting with the rest in chorus. The measure +was quick, and the step very fast. They were gone in an +instant. The whole thing was poetical, and in keeping, for Italy. +I have never seen it elsewhere.</p> + +<p>We left Viterbo on a clear, mild autumnal morning; and I +think I never felt the excitement of a delightful climate more +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">298</a></span> +thrillingly. The road was wild, and with the long ascent of the +Monte-Cimino before us, I left the carriage to its slow pace and +went ahead several miles on foot. The first rain of the season +had fallen, and the road was moist, and all the spicy herbs of +Italy perceptible in the air. Half way up the mountain, I +overtook a fat, bald, middle-aged priest, slowly toiling up on his +mule. I was passing him with a "<i>buon giorno</i>," when he +begged me for my own sake, as well as his, to keep him company. +"It was the worst road for thieves," he said, "in all Italy," and +he pointed at every short distance to little crosses erected at the +road-side, to commemorate the finding of murdered men on the +spot. After he had told me several stories of the kind, he +elevated his tone, and began to talk of other matters. I think I +never heard so loud and long a laugh as his. I ventured to +express a wonder at his finding himself so happy in a life of +celibacy. He looked at me slily a moment or two as if he were +hesitating whether to trust me with his opinions on the subject; +but he suddenly seemed to remember his caution, and pointing +off to the right, showed me a lake brought into view by the last +turn of the road. It was <i>Lake Vico</i>. From the midst of it rose +a round mountain covered to the top with luxuriant chestnuts—the +lake forming a sort of trench about it, with the hill on which +we stood rising directly from the other edge. It was one faultless +mirror of green leaves. The two hill sides shadowed it completely. +All the views from Monte-Cimino were among the +richest in mere nature that I ever saw, and reminded me strongly +of the country about the Seneca lake of America. I was on the +Cayuga at about the same season three summers ago, and I could +have believed myself back again, it was so like my recollection.</p> + +<p>We stopped on the fourth night of our journey, seventeen +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">299</a></span> +miles from Rome, at a place called Baccano. A ridge of hills +rose just before us, from the top of which we were told, we could +see St. Peter's. The sun was just dipping under the horizon, +and the ascent was three miles. We threw off our cloaks, determining +to see Rome before we slept, ran unbreathed to the top +of the hill, an effort which so nearly exhausted us, that we could +scarce stand long enough upon our feet to search over the broad +campagna for the dome.</p> + +<p>The sunset had lingered a great while—as it does in Italy. +Four or five light feathery streaks of cloud glowed with intense +crimson in the west, and on the brow of Mount Soracte, (which I +recognised instantly from the graphic simile<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> of Childe Harold), +and along on all the ridges of mountain in the east, still played +a kind of vanishing reflection, half purple, half gray. With a +moment's glance around to catch the outline of the landscape, I +felt instinctively where Rome <i>should</i> stand, and my eye fell at +once upon "the mighty dome." Jupiter had by this time +appeared, and hung right over it, trembling in the sky with its +peculiar glory, like a lump of molten spar, and as the color faded +from the clouds, and the dark mass of "the eternal city" itself +mingled and was lost in the shadows of the campagna, the dome +still seemed to catch light, and tower visibly, as if the radiance +of the glowing star above fell more directly upon it. We could +see it till we could scarcely distinguish each other's features. +The dead level of the campagna extended between and beyond +for twenty miles, and it looked like a far-off beacon in a dim sea. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">300</a></span> +We sat an hour on the summit of the hill, gazing into the +increasing darkness, till our eyes ached. The stars brightened +one by one, the mountains grew indistinct, and we rose unwillingly +to retrace our steps to Baccano. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XLII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +FIRST DAY IN ROME—SAINT PETER'S—A SOLITARY MONK—STRANGE +MUSIC—MICHAEL ANGELO'S MASTERPIECE—THE +MUSEUM—LIKENESS OF YOUNG AUGUSTUS—APOLLO BELVIDERE—THE +MEDICEAN VENUS—RAPHAEL'S TRANSFIGURATION—THE +PANTHEON—THE BURIAL-PLACE OF CARRACCI AND +RAPHAEL—ROMAN FORUM—TEMPLE OF FORTUNE—THE ROSTRUM—PALACE +OF THE CESARS—THE RUINS—THE COLISEUM, +ETC.</p> + +<p>To be rid of the dust of travel, and abroad in a strange and +renowned city, is a sensation of no slight pleasure anywhere. +To step into the street under these circumstances and inquire for +the <i>Roman Forum</i>, was a sufficient advance upon the ordinary +feeling to mark a bright day in one's calendar. I was hurrying +up the Corso with this object before me a half hour after my +arrival in Rome, when an old friend arrested my steps, and +begging me to reserve the "Ruins" for moonlight, took me off +to St. Peter's.</p> + +<p>The façade of the church appears alone, as you walk up the +street from the castle of St. Angelo. It disappointed me. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">302</a></span> +There is no portico, and it looks flat and bare. But approaching +nearer, I stood at the base of the obelisk, and with those two +magnificent fountains sending their musical waters, as if to the +sky, and the two encircling wings of the church embracing the +immense area with its triple colonnades, I felt the grandeur of +St. Peter's. I felt it again in the gigantic and richly-wrought +porches, and again with indescribable surprise and admiration at +the first step on the pavement of the interior. There was not a +figure on its immense floor from the door to the altar, and its far-off +roof, its mighty pillars, its gold and marbles in such profusion +that the eye shrinks from the examination, made their overpowering +impression uninterrupted. You feel that it must be a +glorious creature that could build such a temple to his Maker.</p> + +<p>An organ was playing brokenly in one of the distant chapels, +and, drawing insensibly to the music, we found the door half +open, and a monk alone, running his fingers over the keys, and +stopping sometimes as if to muse, till the echo died and the +silence seemed to startle him anew. It was strange music; very +irregular, but sweet, and in a less excited moment, I could have +sat and listened to it till the sun set.</p> + +<p>I strayed down the aisle, and stood before the "Dead Christ" +of Michael Angelo. The Saviour lies in the arms of Mary. +The limbs hang lifelessly down, and, exquisitely beautiful as they +are, express death with a wonderful power. It is the best work +of the artist, I think, and the only one I was ever <i>moved</i> in +looking at.</p> + +<p>The greatest statue and the first picture in the world are under +the same roof, and we mounted to the Vatican. The museum is +a wilderness of statuary. Old Romans, men and women, stand +about you, copied, as you feel when you look on them, from the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">303</a></span> +life; and conceptions of beauty in children, nymphs, and heroes, +from minds that conceived beauty in a degree that has never been +transcended, confuse and bewilder you with their number and +wonderful workmanship. It is like seeing a vision of past ages. +It is calling up from Athens and old classic Rome, all that was +distinguished and admired of the most polished ages of the world. +On the right of the long gallery, as you enter, stands the bust of +the "Young Augustus"—a kind of beautiful, angelic likeness of +Napoleon, as Napoleon might have been in his youth. It is a +boy, but with a serene dignity about the forehead and lips, that +makes him visibly a boy-emperor—born for his throne, and +conscious of his right to it. There is nothing in marble more +perfect, and I never saw anything which made me realize that the +Romans of history and poetry were <i>men</i>—nothing which brought +them so familiarly to my mind, as the feeling for beauty shown in +this infantine bust. I would rather have it than all the gods and +heroes of the Vatican.</p> + +<p>No cast gives you any idea worth having of the Apollo +Belvidere. It is a god-like model of a man. The lightness and +the elegance of the limbs; the free, fiery, confident energy of the +attitude; the breathing, indignant nostril and lips; the whole +statue's mingled and equal grace and power, are, with all its +truth to nature, beyond any conception I had formed of manly +beauty. It spoils one's eye for common men to look at it. It +stands there like a descended angel, with a splendor of form and +an air of power, that makes one feel what he should have been, +and mortifies him for what he is. Most women whom I have met +in Europe, adore the Apollo as far the finest statue in the world, +and most <i>men</i> say as much of the Medicean Venus. But, to my +eye, the Venus, lovely as she is, compares with the Apollo as a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">304</a></span> +mortal with an angel of light. The latter is incomparably the +finest statue. If it were only for its face, it would transcend the +other infinitely. The beauty of the Venus is only in the limbs +and body. It is a faultless, and withal, modest representation of +the flesh and blood beauty of a woman. The Apollo is all this, +and has a <i>soul</i>. I have seen women that approached the Venus +in form, and had finer faces—I never saw a man that was a +shadow of the Apollo in either. It stands as it should, in a room +by itself, and is thronged at all hours by female worshippers. +They never tire of gazing at it; and I should believe, from the +open-mouthed wonder of those whom I met at its pedestal, that +the story of the girl who pined and died for love of it, was neither +improbable nor singular.</p> + +<p>Raphael's "Transfiguration" is agreed to be the finest picture +in the world. I had made up my mind to the same opinion from +the engravings of it, but was painfully disappointed in the picture. +I looked at it from every corner of the room, and asked the +<i>custode</i> three times if he was sure this was the original. The +color offended my eye, blind as Raphael's name should make it, +and I left the room with a sigh, and an unsettled faith in my own +taste, that made me seriously unhappy. My complacency was +restored a few hours after on hearing that the wonder was entirely +in the drawing—the colors having quite changed with time. I +bought the engraving immediately, which you have seen too often, +of course, to need my commentary. The aerial lightness with +which he has hung the figures of the Saviour and the apostles in +the air, is a triumph of the pencil over the laws of nature, that +seem to have required the power of the miracle itself.</p> + +<p>I lost myself in coming home, and following a priest's +direction to the Corso, came unexpectedly upon the "Pantheon," +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">305</a></span> +which I recognised at once. This wonder of architecture has no +questionable beauty. A dunce would not need to be told that it +was perfect. Its Corinthian columns fall on the eye with that +sense of fulness that seems to answer an instinct of beauty in the +very organ. One feels a fault or an excellence in architecture +long before he can give the feeling a name; and I can see why, +by Childe Harold and others, this heathen temple is called "the +pride of Rome," though I cannot venture on a description. The +faultless interior is now used as a church, and there lie Annibal +Carracci and the divine Raphael—two names worthy of the +place, and the last, of a shrine in every bosom capable of a +conception of beauty. Glorious Raphael! If there was no +other relic in Rome, one would willingly become a pilgrim to his +ashes.</p> + +<p>With my countryman and friend, Mr. Cleveland, I stood in +the Roman forum by the light of a clear half moon. The soft +silver rays poured in through the ruined columns of the Temple +of Fortune and threw our shadows upon the bases of the tall +shafts near the capitol, the remains, I believe, of the temple +erected by Augustus to Jupiter Tonans. Impressive things they +are, even without their name, standing tall and alone, with their +broken capitals wreathed with ivy, and neither roof nor wall to +support them, where they were placed by hands that have mouldered +for centuries. It is difficult to rally one's senses in such a +place, and be awake coldly to the scene. We stood, as we supposed, +in the Rostrum. The noble arch, still almost perfect, +erected by the senate to Septimius Severus, stood up clear and +lofty beside us, the three matchless and lonely columns of the +supposed temple of Jupiter Stator threw their shadows across +the Forum below, the great arch, built at the conquest of Jerusalem +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">306</a></span> +to Titus, was visible in the distance, and above them all, on +the gentle ascent of the Palatine, stood the ruined palace of the +Cesars, the sharp edges of the demolished walls breaking up +through vines and ivy, and the mellow moon of Italy softening +rock and foliage into one silver-edged mass of shadow. It seems +as if the very genius of the picturesque had arranged these immortal +ruins. If the heaps of fresh excavation were but overgrown +with grass, no poet nor painter could better image out the +Rome of his dream. It surpasses fancy.</p> + +<p>We walked on, over fragments of marble columns turned up +from the mould, and leaving the majestic arches of the Temple +of Peace on our left, passed under the arch of Titus (so dreaded +by the Jews), to the Coliseum. This too is magnificently ruined—broken +in every part, and yet showing still the brave skeleton +of what it was—its gigantic and triple walls, half encircling the +silent area, and its rocky seats lifting one above the other amid +weeds and ivy, and darkening the dens beneath, whence issued +the gladiators, beasts, and Christian martyrs, to be sacrificed for +the amusement of Rome. A sentinel paced at the gigantic archway, +a capuchin monk, whose duty is to attend the small chapels +built around the arena, walked up and down in his russet cowl +and sandals, the moon broke through the clefts in the wall, and +the whole place was buried in the silence of a wilderness. I +have given you the features of the scene—I leave you to people +it with your own thoughts. I dare not trust mine to a colder +medium than poetry. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XLIII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +TIVOLI—RUINS OF THE BATHS OF DIOCLETIAN—FALLS OF TIVOLI—CASCATELLI—SUBJECT +OF ONE OF COLE'S LANDSCAPES—RUINS +OF THE VILLAGE OF MECÆNAS—RUINED VILLA OF ADRIAN—THE +FORUM—TEMPLE OF VESTA—THE CLOACA MAXIMA—THE RIVER +JUTURNA, ETC.</p> + +<p>I have spent a day at Tivoli with Messrs. Auchmuty and +Bissell, of our navy, and one or two others, forming quite an +American party. We passed the ruins of the baths of Diocletian, +with a heavy cloud over our heads; but we were scarce +through the gate, when the sun broke through, the rain swept off +over Soracte, and the sky was clear till sunset.</p> + +<p>I have seen many finer falls than Tivoli; that is, more water, +and falling farther; but I do not think there is so pretty a place +in the world. A very dirty village, a dirtier hotel, and a +cicerone all rags and ruffianism, are somewhat dampers to anticipation. +We passed through a broken gate, and with a step, +were in a glen of fairy-land; the lightest and loveliest of antique +temples on a crag above, a snowy waterfall of some hundred and +fifty feet below, grottoes mossed to the mouth at the river's outlet, +and all up and down the cleft valley vines twisted in the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">308</a></span> +crevices of rock, and shrubbery hanging on every ledge, with a +felicity of taste or nature, or both, that is uncommon even in +Italy. The fall itself comes rushing down through a grotto to the +face of the precipice, over which it leaps, and looks like a subterranean +river just coming to light. Its bed is rough above, and it +bursts forth from its cavern in dazzling foam, and falls in one sparry +sheet to the gulf. The falls of Montmorenci are not unlike it.</p> + +<p>We descended to the bottom, and from the little terrace, wet +by the spray, and dark with overhanging rocks, looked up the +"cavern of Neptune," a deep passage, through which the divided +river rushes to meet the fall in the gulf. Then remounting to +the top, we took mules to make the three miles' circuit of the +glen, and see what are called the <i>Cascatelli</i>.</p> + +<p>No fairy-work could exceed the beauty of the little antique +Sybil's temple perched on the top of the crag above the fall. As +we rode round the other edge of the glen, it stood opposite us in +all the beauty of its light and airy architecture; a thing that +might be borne, "like Loretto's chapel, through the air," and +seem no miracle.</p> + +<p>A mile farther on I began to recognize the features of the +scene, at a most lovely point of view. It was the subject of one +of Cole's landscapes, which I had seen in Florence; and I need +not say to any one who knows the works of this admirable artist, +that it was done with truth and taste.<a name="FNanchor_3" id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> The little town of Tivoli +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">309</a></span> +hangs on a jutting lap of a mountain, on the side of the ravine +opposite to your point of view. From beneath its walls, as if its +foundations were laid upon a river's fountains, bursts foaming +water in some thirty different falls; and it seems to you as if the +long declivities were that moment for the first time overflowed, +for the currents go dashing under trees, and overleaping vines +and shrubs, appearing and disappearing continually, till they +all meet in the quiet bed of the river below. "<i>It was made by +Bernini</i>," said the guide, as we stood gazing at it; and, odd as +this information sounded, while wondering at a spectacle worthy +of the happiest accident of nature, it will explain the phenomena +of the place to you—the artist having turned a mountain river +from its course, and leading it under the town of Tivoli, threw it +over the sides of the precipitous hill upon which it stands. One +of the streams appears from beneath the ruins of the "Villa of +Mecænas," which topples over a precipice just below the town, +looking over the campagna toward Rome—a situation worthy of +the patron of the poets. We rode through the immense subterranean +arches, which formed its court, in ascending the mountain +again to the town.</p> + +<p>Near Tivoli is the ruined villa of Adrian, where was found the +Venus de Medicis, and some other of the wonders of antique art. +The sun had set, however, and the long campagna of twenty +miles lay between us and Rome. We were compelled to leave it +unseen. We entered the gates at nine o'clock, <i>unrobbed</i>—rather +an unusual good fortune, we were told, for travellers +after dark on that lonely waste. Perhaps our number deprived +us of the romance. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">310</a></span></p> + +<p>I left a crowded ball-room at midnight, wearied with a day at +Tivoli, and oppressed with an atmosphere breathed by two hundred, +dancing and card-playing, Romans and foreigners; and +with a step from the portico of the noble palace of our host, +came into a broad beam of moonlight, that with the stillness and +coolness of the night refreshed me at once, and banished all disposition +for sleep. A friend was with me, and I proposed a +ramble among the ruins.</p> + +<p>The sentinel challenged us as we entered the Forum. The +frequent robberies of romantic strangers in this lonely place have +made a guard necessary, and they are now stationed from the +Arch of Severus to the Coliseum. We passed an hour rambling +among the ruins of the temples. Not a footstep was to be heard, +nor a sound even from the near city; and the tall columns, with +their broken friezes and capitals, and the grand imperishable +arches, stood up in the bright light of the moon, looking indeed +like monuments of Rome. I am told they are less majestic by +daylight. The rubbish and fresh earth injure the effect. But I +have as yet seen them in the garb of moonlight only, and I shall +carry this impression away. It is to me, now, all that my fancy +hoped to find it—its temples and columns just enough in ruin to +be affecting and beautiful.</p> + +<p>We went thence to the Temple of Vesta. It is shut up in the +modern streets, ten or fifteen minutes walk from the Forum. +The picture of this perfect temple, and the beautiful purpose of +its consecration, have been always prominent in my imaginary +Rome. It is worthy of its association—an exquisite round temple, +with its simple circle of columns from the base to the roof, a +faultless thing in proportion, and as light and floating to the eye +as if the wind might lift it. It was no common place to stand +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">311</a></span> +beside, and recall the poetical truth and fiction of which it has +been the scene—the vestal lamp cherished or neglected by its +high-born votaries, their honors if pure, and their dreadful death +if faithless. It needed not the heavenly moonlight that broke +across its columns to make it a very shrine of fancy.</p> + +<p>My companion proposed a visit next to the Cloaca Maxima. +A <i>common sewer</i>, after the Temple of Vesta, sounds like an abrupt +transition; but the arches beneath which we descended were +touched by moonlight, and the vines and ivy crossed our path, +and instead of a drain of filth, which the fame of its imperial +builder would scarce have sweetened, a rapid stream leaped to +the right, and disappeared again beneath the solid masonry, more +like a wild brook plunging into a grotto than the thing one expects +to find it. The clear little river <i>Juturna</i> (on the banks of +which Castor and Pollux watered their foaming horses, when +bringing the news of victory to Rome), dashes now through the +Cloaca Maxima; and a fresher or purer spot, or waters with a +more musical murmur, it has not been my fortune to see. We +stopped over a broken column for a drink, and went home, +refreshed, to bed. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XLIV.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +MASS IN THE SISTINE CHAPEL—THE CARDINALS—THE "LAST +JUDGMENT"—THE POPE OF ROME—THE "ADAM AND EVE" +CHANTING OF THE PRIESTS—FESTA AT THE CHURCH OF SAN +CARLOS—GREGORY THE SIXTEENTH, HIS EQUIPAGE, TRAIN, ETC.</p> + +<p>All the world goes to hear "mass in the Sistine chapel," and +all travellers describe it. It occurs infrequently and is performed +by the Pope. We were there to-day at ten, crowding at the door +with hundreds of foreigners, mostly English, elbowed alternately +by priests and ladies, and kept in order by the Swiss guards in +their harlequin dresses and long pikes. We were admitted after +an hour's pushing, and the guard retreated to the grated door, +through which no woman is permitted to pass. Their gay bonnets +and feathers clustered behind the gilded bars, and we could +admire them for once without the qualifying reflection that they +were between us and the show. An hour more was occupied in +the entrance, one by one, of some forty cardinals with their rustling +silk trains supported by boys in purple. They passed the +gate, their train bearers lifted their cassocks and helped them to +kneel, a moment's prayer was mumbled, and they took their seats +with the same servile assistance. Their attendants placed themselves +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">313</a></span> +at their feet, and, taking the prayer-books, the only use of +which appeared to be to display their jewelled fingers, they looked +over them at the faces behind the grating, and waited for his +Holiness.</p> + +<p>The intervals of this memory, gave us time to study the famous +<i>frescoes</i> for which the Sistine chapel is renowned. The +subject is the "Last Judgment." The Saviour sits in the midst, +pronouncing the sentence, the wicked plunging from his presence +on the left hand, and the righteous ascending with the assistance +of angels on the right. The artist had, of course, infinite scope +for expression, and the fame of the fresco (which occupies the +whole of the wall behind the altar) would seem to argue his +success. The light is miserable, however, and incense or lamp-smoke, +has obscured the colors, and one looks at it now with +little pleasure. As well as I could see, the figure of the +Saviour was more that of a tiler throwing down slates from the +top of a house in some fear of falling, than the Judge of the world +upon his throne. Some of the other parts are better, and one or +two naked females figures might once have been beautiful, but +one of the succeeding popes ordered them dressed, and they now +flaunt at the judgment-seat in colored silks, obscuring both saints +and sinners with their finery. There are some redeeming frescoes, +also by Michael Angelo, on the ceiling, among them +"Adam and Eve," exquisitely done.</p> + +<p>The Pope entered by a door at the side of the altar. With +him came a host of dignitaries and church servants, and, as he +tottered round in front of the altar, to kneel, his cap was taken +off and put on, his flowing robes lifted and spread, and he was +treated in all respects, as if he were the Deity himself. In fact, +the whole service was the worship, not of God, but of the Pope. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">314</a></span> +The cardinals came up, one by one, with their heads bowed, and +knelt reverently to kiss his hand and the hem of his white satin +dress; his throne was higher than the altar, and ten times as +gorgeous; the incense was flung toward him, and his motions +from one side of the chapel to the other, were attended with +more ceremony and devotion than all the rest of the service +together. The chanting commenced with his entrance, and this +should have been to God alone, for it was like music from heaven. +The choir was composed of priests, who sang from massive volumes +bound in golden clasps, in a small side gallery. One stood +by the book, turning the leaves as the chant proceeded, and +keeping the measure, and the others clustered around with their +hands clasped, their heads thrown back, and their eyes closed or +fixed upon the turning leaves in such grouping and attitude as +you see in pictures of angels singing in the clouds. I have heard +wonderful music since I have been on the continent, and have +received new ideas of the compass of the human voice, and its +capacities for pathos and sweetness. But, after all the wonders +of the opera, as it is learned to sing before kings and courts, the +chanting of these priests transcended every conception in my +mind of music. It was the human voice, cleared of all earthliness, +and gushing through its organs with uncontrollable feeling +and nature. The burden of the various parts returned continually +upon one or two simple notes, the deepest and sweetest in +the octave for melody, and occasionally a single voice outran the +choir in a passionate repetition of the air, which seemed less like +musical contrivance, than an abandonment of soul and voice to a +preternatural impulse of devotion. One writes nonsense in describing +such things, but there is no other way of conveying an +idea of them. The subject is beyond the wildest superlatives. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">315</a></span></p> + +<p>To-day we have again seen the Pope. It was a festa, and the +church of San Carlos was the scene of the ceremonies. His +Holiness came in the state-coach with six long-tailed black horses, +and all his cardinals in their red and gold carriages in his train. +The gaudy procession swept up to the steps, and the father of +the church was taken upon the shoulders of his bearers in a chair +of gold and crimson, and solemnly borne up the aisle, and deposited +within the railings of the altar, where homage was done +to him by the cardinals as before, and the half-supernatural +music of his choir awaited his motions. The church was half +filled with soldiers armed to the teeth, and drawn up on either +side, and his body-guard of Roman nobles, stood even within the +railing of the altar, capped and motionless, conveying, as everything +else does, the irresistible impression that it was the worship +of the Pope, not of God.</p> + +<p>Gregory the sixteenth, is a small old man, with a large heavy +nose, eyes buried in sluggish wrinkles, and a flushed, apoplectic +complexion. He sits, or is borne about with his eyes shut, looking +quite asleep, even his limbs hanging lifelessly. The gorgeous +and heavy papal costumes only render him more insignificant, +and when he is borne about, buried in his deep chair, or +lost in the corner of his huge black and gold pagoda of a carriage, +it is difficult to look at him without a smile. Among his cardinals, +however, there are magnificent heads, boldly marked, noble +and scholarlike, and I may say, perhaps, that there is no one of +them, who had not nature's mark upon him of superiority. +They are a dignified and impressive body of men, and their servile +homage to the Pope, seems unnatural and disgusting. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XLV.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +ROME—A MORNING IN THE STUDIO OF THORWALDSEN—COLOSSAL +STATUE OF THE SAVIOUR—STATUE OF BYRON—GIBSON'S ROOMS—CUPID +AND PSYCHE—HYLAS WITH THE RIVER NYMPHS—PALAZZO +SPADA—STATUE OF POMPEY—BORGHESE PALACE—PORTRAIT OF +CESAR BORGIA—DOSSI'S PSYCHE—SACRED AND PROFANE LOVE—ROOM +DEVOTED TO VENUSES—THE SOCIETY OF ROME, ETC.</p> + +<p>I have spent a morning in the studio of <i>Thorwaldsen</i>. He +is probably the greatest sculptor now living. A colossal statue +of Christ, thought by many to be his masterpiece, is the prominent +object as you enter. It is a noble conception—the mild +majesty of a Saviour expressed in a face of the most dignified +human beauty. Perhaps his full-length statue of Byron is inferior +to some of his other works, but it interested me, and I spent +most of my time in looking at it. It was taken from life; and +my friend, Mr. Auchmuty, who was with me, and who had seen +Byron frequently on board one of our ships-of-war at Leghorn, +thought it the only faithful likeness he had ever seen. The poet +is dressed oddly enough, in a morning frock coat, cravat, pantaloons, +and shoes; and, unpromising as these materials would +seem, the statue is classic and elegant to a very high degree. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">317</a></span> +His coat is held by the two centre buttons in front (a more exquisite +cut never came from the hands of a London tailor), +swelled out a little above and below by the fleshy roundness of +his figure; his cravat is tied loosely, leaving his throat bare +(which, by the way, both in the statue and the original, was very +beautifully chiselled); and he sits upon a fragment of a column, +with a book in one hand and a pencil in the other. A man +reading a pleasant poem among the ruins of Rome, and looking +up to reflect upon a fine passage before marking it, would assume +the attitude and expression exactly. The face has half a smile +upon it, and, differing from the Apollo faces usually drawn for +Byron, is finer, and more expressive of his character than any I +ever met with. Thorwaldsen is a Dane, and is beloved by every +one for his simplicity and modesty. I did not see him.</p> + +<p>We were afterward at <i>Gibson's</i> rooms. This gentleman is an +English artist, apparently about thirty, and full of genius. He +has taken some portraits which are esteemed admirable; but his +principal labor has been thrown upon the most beautiful fables +of antiquity. His various groups and bas-reliefs of Cupid and +Psyche are worthy of the beauty of the story. His <i>chef d'œuvre</i>, +I think, is a group of three figures, representing the boy, "Hylas +with the river nymphs." He stands between them with the +pitcher in his hand, startled with their touch, and listening to +their persuasions. The smaller of the two female figures is an +almost matchless conception of loveliness. Gibson went round +with us kindly, and I was delighted with his modesty of manner, +and the apparently completely poetical character of his mind. +He has a noble head, a lofty forehead well marked, and a mouth +of finely mingled strength and mildness. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">318</a></span></p> + +<p>We devoted this morning to <i>palaces</i>. At the <i>Palazzo Spada</i> +we saw the statue of Pompey, at the base of which Cesar fell. +Antiquaries dispute its authenticity, but the evidence is quite +strong enough for a poetical belief; and if it were not, one's time +is not lost, for the statue is a majestic thing, and well worth the +long walk necessary to see it. The mutilated arm, and the hole +in the wall behind, remind one of the ludicrous fantasy of the +French, who carried it to the Forum to enact "Brutus" at its +base.</p> + +<p>The <i>Borghese Palace</i> is rich in pictures. The portrait of <i>Cesar +Borgia</i>, by Titian, is one of the most striking. It represents +that accomplished villain with rather slight features, and, barring +a look of cool determination about his well-formed lips, with +rather a prepossessing countenance. One detects in it the +capabilities of such a character as his, after the original is +mentioned; but otherwise he might pass for a handsome gallant, +of no more dangerous trait than a fiery temper. Just beyond it +is a very strong contrast in a figure of <i>Psyche</i>, by Dossi, of +Ferrara. She is coming on tiptoe, with the lamp, to see her +lover. The Cupid asleep is not so well done; but for an image +of a real woman, unexaggerated and lovely, I have seen nothing +which pleases me better than this Psyche. Opposite it hangs a +very celebrated Titian, representing "Sacred and Profane Love." +Two female figures are sitting by a well—one quite nude, with +her hair about her shoulders, and the other dressed, and coiffed <i>a +la mode</i>, but looking less modest to my eye than her undraped +sister. It is little wonder, however, that a man who could paint +his own daughter in the embraces of a satyr (a revolting picture, +which I saw in the Barberigo palace at Venice) should fail in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">319</a></span> +drawing the face of Virtue. The coloring of the picture is +exquisite, but the design is certainly a failure.</p> + +<p>The last room in the palace is devoted to Venuses—all very +naked and very bad. There might be forty, I think, and not a +limb among them that one's eye would rest upon with the least +pleasure for a single moment.</p> + +<p>The society of Rome is of course changing continually. At +this particular season, strangers from every part of the continent +are beginning to arrive, and it promises to be pleasant. I have +been at most of the parties during the fortnight that I have been +here, but find them thronged with priests, and with only the +resident society which is dull. Cards and conversation with +people one never saw before, and will certainly never see again, +are heavy pastimes. I start for Florence to-morrow, and shall +return to Rome for Holy Week, and the spring months. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XLVI.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +ITALIAN AND AMERICAN SKIES—FALLS OF TERNI—THE CLITUMNUS—THE +TEMPLE—EFFECTS OF AN EARTHQUAKE AT FOLIGNO—LAKE +THRASIMENE—JOURNEY FROM ROME—FLORENCE—FLORENTINE +SCENERY—PRINCE PONIATOWSKI—JEROME BONAPARTE +AND FAMILY—WANT OF A MINISTER IN ITALY.</p> + +<p>I left Rome by the magnificent "Porta del Popolo," as the +flush of a pearly and spotless Italian sunrise deepened over +Soracte. They are so splendid without clouds—these skies of +Italy! so deep to the eye, so radiantly clear! <i>Clouds</i> make the +glory of an American sky. The "Indian summer" sunsets +excepted, our sun goes down in New England, with the extravagance +of a theatrical scene. The clouds are massed and +heavy, like piles of gold and fire, and day after day, if you +observe them, you are literally astonished with the brilliant +phenomena of the west. Here, for seven months, we have had +no rain. The sun has risen faultlessly clear, with the same gray, +and silver, and rose tints succeeding each other as regularly as +the colors in a turning prism, and it has set as constantly in +orange, gold, and purple, with scarce the variation of a painter's +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">321</a></span> +pallet, from one day to another. It is really most delightful to live +under such heavens as these; to be depressed never by a gloomy +sky, nor ill from a chance exposure to a chill wind, nor out of +humor because the rain or damp keeps you a prisoner at home. +You feel the delicious climate in a thousand ways. It is a +positive blessing, and were worth more than a fortune, if it were +bought and sold. I would rather be poor in Italy, than rich in +any other country in the world.</p> + +<p>We ascended the mountain that shuts in the campagna on the +north, and turned, while the horses breathed, to take a last look +at Rome. My two friends, the lieutenants, and myself, occupied +the interior of the vetturino, in company with a young Roman +woman, who was making her first journey from home. She was +going to see her husband. I pointed out of the window to the +distant dome of St. Peter's, rising above the thin smoke hung +over the city, and she looked at it with the tears streaming from +her large black eyes in torrents. She might have cried because +she was going to her husband, but I could not divest myself of +the fact that she was a Roman, and leaving a home that <i>could</i> be +very romantically wept for. She was a fine specimen of this finest +of the races of woman—amply proportioned without grossness, +and with that certain presence or dignity that rises above manners +and rank, common to them all.</p> + +<p>We saw beautiful scenery at Narni. The town stands on the +edge of a precipice, and the valley, a hundred feet or two below, +is coursed by a wild stream, that goes foaming along its bed in a +long line of froth for miles away. We dined here, and drove +afterward to Terni, where the voiturier stopped for the night, to +give us an opportunity to see the <i>Falls</i>.</p> + +<p>We drove to the mountain base, three miles, in an old post +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">322</a></span> +barouche, and made the ascent on foot. A line of precipices +extends along from the summit, and from the third or fourth of +these leaps the Velino, clear into the valley. We saw it in +front as we went on, and then followed the road round, till we +reached the bed of the river behind. The fountain of Egeria is +not more secludedly beautiful than its current above the fall. +Trees overhang and meet, and flowers spring in wonderful variety +on its banks, and the ripple against the roots is heard amid the +roar of the cataract, like a sweet, clear voice in a chorus. It is a +place in which you half expect to startle a fawn, it looks so +unvisited and wild. We wound out through the shrubbery, and +gained a projecting point, from which we could see the sheet of +the cascade. It is "horribly beautiful" to be sure. Childe +Harold's description of it is as true as a drawing.</p> + +<p>I should think the quantity of water at Niagara would make +five hundred such falls as those of Terni, without exaggeration. +It is a "hell of waters," however, notwithstanding, and leaps +over with a current all turned into foam by the roughness of its +bed above—a circumstance that gives the sheet more richness of +surface. Two or three lovely little streams steal off on either +side of the fall, as if they shrunk from the leap, and drop down, +from rock to rock, till they are lost in the rising mist.</p> + +<p>The sun set over the little town of Terni, while we stood +silently looking down into the gulf, and the wet spray reminded +us that the most romantic people may take cold. We descended +to our carriage; and in an hour were sitting around the blazing +fire at the post-house, with a motley group of Germans, Swiss, +French, and Italians—a mixture of company universal in the +public room of an Italian albergo, at night. The coming and +going vetturini stop at the same houses throughout, and the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">323</a></span> +concourse is always amusing. We sat till the fire burned low, +and then wishing our chance friends a happy night, had the +"priests"<a name="FNanchor_4" id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> taken from our beds, and were soon lost to everything +but sleep.</p> + +<p>Terni was the Italian Tempe, and its beautiful scenery was +shown to Cicero, whose excursion hither is recorded. It is part +of a long, deep valley, between abrupt ranges of mountains, and +abounds in loveliness.</p> + +<p>We went to Spoleto, the next morning, to breakfast. It is a +very old town, oddly built, and one of its gates still remains, at +which Hannibal was repulsed after his victory at Thrasimene. +It bears his name in time-worn letters.</p> + +<p>At the distance of one post from Spoleto we came to the +<i>Clitumnus</i>, a small stream, still, deep, and glassy—the clearest +water I ever saw. It looks almost like air. On its bank, facing +away from the road, stands the temple, "of small and delicate +proportions," mentioned so exquisitely by Childe Harold.</p> + +<p>The temple of the Clitumnus might stand in a drawing-room. +The stream is a mere brook, and this little marble gem, whose +richly fretted columns were raised to its honor with a feeling of +beauty that makes one thrill, seems exactly of relative proportions. +It is a thing of pure poetry; and to find an antiquity of +such perfect preservation, with the small clear stream running +still at the base of its <i>façade</i>, just as it did when Cicero and his +contemporaries passed it on their visits to a country called after +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">324</a></span> +the loveliest vale of Greece for its beauty, was a gratification of +the highest demand of taste. Childe Harold's lesson,</p> + +<p class="blockquot"> +"Pass not unblest the genius of the place" +</p> + +<p>was scarce necessary.<a name="FNanchor_5" id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></p> + +<p>We slept at <i>Foligno</i>. For many miles we had observed that +the houses were propped in every direction, many of them in +ruins apparently recent, and small wooden sheds erected in the +midst of the squares, or beside the roads, and crowded with the +poor. The next morning we arrived at St. Angelo, and found its +gigantic cathedral a heap of ruins. Its painted chapels, to the +number of fifteen or sixteen, were half standing in the shattered +walls, the altars all exposed, and the interior of the dome one +mass of stone and rubbish. It was the first time I had seen the +effects of an <i>earthquake</i>. For eight or ten miles further, we +found every house cracked and deserted, and the people living +like the settlers in a new country, half in the open air. The +beggars were innumerable.</p> + +<p>We stopped the next night on the shores of lake Thrasimene. +For once in my life, I felt that the time spent at school on the +"dull drilled lesson," had not been wasted. I was on the battle +ground of Hannibal—the "<i>locus aptus insidiis</i>" where the consul +Flaminius was snared and beaten by the wily Carthaginian on his +march to Rome. I longed for my old copy of Livy "much +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">325</a></span> +thumbed," that I might sit on the hill and compare the image in +my mind, made by his pithy and sententious description, with the +reality.</p> + +<p>The battle ground, the scene of the principal slaughter, was +beyond the <i>albergo</i>, and the increasing darkness compelled us to +defer a visit to it till the next morning. Meantime the lake was +beautiful. We were on the eastern side, and the deep-red sky of +a departed sunset over the other shore, was reflected glowingly +on the water. All around was dark, but the light in the sky and +lake seemed to have forgotten to follow. It is a phenomenon +peculiar to Italy. The heavens seem "dyed" and steeped in the +glory of the sunset.</p> + +<p>We drank our host's best bottle of wine, the grape plucked +from the battle ground; and if it was not better for the Roman +blood that had manured its ancestor, it was better for some other +reason.</p> + +<p>Early the next morning we were on our way, and wound down +into the narrow pass between the lake and the hill, as the sun +rose. We crossed the <i>Sanguinetto</i>, a little stream which took its +name from the battle. The principal slaughter was just on its +banks, and the hills are so steep above it, that everybody who +fell near must have rolled into its bed. It crawls on very quietly +across the road, its clear stream scarce interrupted by the wheels +of the vetturino, which in crossing it, passes from the Roman +states into Tuscany. I ran a little up the stream, knelt and +drank at a small gurgling fall. The blood of the old Flaminian +Cohort spoiled very delicious water, when it mingled with that +brook.</p> + +<p>We were six days and a half accomplishing the hundred and +eighty miles from Rome to Florence—slow travelling—but not +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">326</a></span> +too slow in Italy, where every stone has its story, and every +ascent of a hill its twenty matchless pictures, sprinkled with +ruins, as a painter's eye could not imagine them. We looked +down on the Eden-like valley of the Arno at sunrise, and again +my heart leaped to see the tall dome of Florence, and the hills +all about the queenly city, sparkling with palaces and bright in a +sun that shines nowhere so kindly. If there is a spot in the +world that could wean one from his native home, it is Florence! +"Florence the fair," they call her! I have passed four of the +seven months I have been in Italy, here—and I think I shall pass +here as great a proportion of the rest of my life. There is nothing +that can contribute to comfort and pleasure, that is not within the +reach of the smallest means in Florence. I never saw a place +where wealth made less distinction. The choicest galleries of art +in the world, are open to all comers. The palace of the monarch +may be entered and visited, and enjoyed by all. The ducal +gardens of the Boboli, rich in everything that can refine nature, +and commanding views that no land can equal, cooled by +fountains, haunted in every grove by statuary, are the property +of the stranger and the citizen alike. Museums, laboratories, +libraries, grounds, palaces, are all free as Utopia. You may +take any pleasure that others can command, and have any means +of instruction, as free as the common air. Where else would +one live so pleasantly—so profitably—so wisely.</p> + +<p>The society of Florence is of a very fascinating description. +The Florentine nobles have a <i>casino</i>, or club-house, to which +most of the respectable strangers are invited, and balls are given +there once a week, frequently by the duke and his court, and the +best society of the place. I attended one on my first arrival +from Rome, at which I saw a proportion of beauty which astonished +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">327</a></span> +me. The female descendants of the great names in Italian +history, seem to me to have almost without exception the mark +of noble beauty by nature. The loveliest woman in Florence is +a <i>Medici</i>. The two daughters of <i>Capponi</i>, the patriot and the +descendant of patriots, are of the finest order of beauty. I could +instance many others, the mention of whose names, when I have +first seen them, has made my blood start. I think if Italy is +ever to be redeemed, she must owe it to her daughters. The +men, the brothers of these women, with very rare exceptions, look +like the slaves they are, from one end of Italy to the other.</p> + +<p>One of the most hospitable houses here, is that of Prince Poniatowski, +the brother of the hero of Poland. He has a large +family, and his <i>soirées</i> are thronged with all that is fair and +distinguished. He is a venerable, grayheaded old man, of perhaps +seventy, very fond of speaking English, of which rare acquisition +abroad he seems a little vain. He gave me the heartiest +welcome as an American, and said he loved the nation.</p> + +<p>I had the honor of dining, a day or two since, with the Ex-King +of Westphalia, Jerome Bonaparte. He lives here with the title +of Prince Montfort, conferred on him by his father-in-law, the +king of Wurtemburg. Americans are well received at this house +also; and his queen, as the prince still calls her, can never say +enough in praise of the family of Mr. H., our former secretary of +legation at Paris. It is a constantly recurring theme, and ends +always with "<i>J'aime beaucoup les Americains</i>." The prince +resembles his brother, but has a milder face, and his mouth is less +firm and less beautiful than Napoleon's. His second son is most +remarkably like the emperor. He is about ten years of age; but +except his youth, you can detect no difference between his head +and the busts of his uncle. He has a daughter of about twelve, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">328</a></span> +and an elder son at the university of Sienna. His family is large +as his queen still keeps up her state, with the ladies of honor and +suite. He never goes out, but his house is open every night, and +the best society of Florence may be met there almost at the <i>prima +sera</i>, or early part of the evening.</p> + +<p>The Grand Duke is about to be married, and the court is to be +unusually gay in the carnival. Our countryman, Mr. Thorn, was +presented some time since, and I am to have that honor in two +or three days. By the way, we feel exceedingly in Italy the +want of a <i>minister</i>. There is no accredited agent of our government +in Tuscany, and there are rarely less than three hundred +Americans within its dominions. Fortunately the Marquis Corsi, +the grand chamberlain of the duke, offers to act in the capacity +of an ambassador, and neglects nothing for our advantage in such +matters, but he never fails to express his regret that we should +not have some <i>chargé d'affaires</i> at his court. We have officers +in many parts of the world where they are much less needed. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XLVII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +FLORENCE—GRAND DUKE OF TUSCANY—THE GRAND CHAMBERLAIN—PRINCE +DE LIGNE—THE AUSTRIAN AMBASSADOR—THE +MARQUIS TORRIGIANI—LEOPOLD OF TUSCANY—VIEWS +OF THE VAL D'ARNO—SPLENDID BALL—TREES OF CANDLES—THE +DUKE AND DUCHESS—HIGHBORN ITALIAN AND ENGLISH +BEAUTIES, ETC., ETC.</p> + +<p>I was presented to the grand Duke of Tuscany yesterday +morning, at a private audience. As we have no minister at this +court, I drove alone to the ducal palace, and, passing through +the body-guard of young nobles, was met at the door of the ante-chamber +by the Marquis Corsi, the grand chamberlain. Around +a blazing fire, in this room, stood five or six persons, in splendid +uniforms, to whom I was introduced on entering. One was the +Prince de Ligne—traveling at present in Italy, and waiting to be +presented by the Austrian ambassador—a young and remarkably +handsome man of twenty-five. He showed a knowledge of America, +in the course of a half hour's conversation, which rather +surprised me, inquiring particularly about the residences and condition +of the United States' ministers whom he had met at the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">330</a></span> +various courts of Europe. The Austrian ambassador, an old, +wily-looking man, covered with orders, joined in the conversation +and asked after our former minister at Paris, Mr. Brown, remarking +that he had done the United States great credit, during his +embassy. He had known Mr. Gallatin also, and spoke highly of +him. Mr. Van Buren's election to the vice-presidency, after his +recall, seemed greatly to surprise him.</p> + +<p>The Prince was summoned to the presence of the Duke, and I +remained some fifteen minutes in conversation with a venerable +and noble-looking man, the Marquis Torrigiani, one of the chamberlains. +His eldest son has lately gone upon his travels in the +United States, in company with Mr. Thorn, an American gentleman +living in Florence. He seemed to think the voyage a great +undertaking. Torrigiani is one of the oldest of the Florentine +nobles, and his family is in high esteem.</p> + +<p>As the Austrian minister came out, the Grand Chamberlain +came for me, and I entered the presence of the Duke. He was +standing quite alone in a small, plain room, dressed in a simple +white uniform, with a star upon his breast—a slender, pale, +scholar-like looking young man, of perhaps thirty years. He +received me with a pleasant smile, and crossing his hands behind +him, came close to me, and commenced questioning me about +America. The departure of young Torrigiani for the United +States pleased him, and he said he should like to go himself—"but," +said he, "a voyage of three thousand miles and back—<i>comment +faire!</i>" and he threw out his hands with a look of mock +despair that was very expressive. He assured me he felt great +pleasure at Mr. Thorn's having taken up his residence in Florence. +He had sent for his whole family a few days before, and promised +them every attention to their comfort during the absence of Mr. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">331</a></span> +Thorn. He said young Torrigiani was <i>bien instruit</i>, and would +travel to advantage, without doubt. At every pause of his inquiries, +he looked me full in the eyes, and seemed anxious to +yield me the <i>parole</i> and listen. He bowed with a smile, after I +had been with him perhaps half an hour, and I took my leave +with all the impressions of his character which common report +had given me, quite confirmed. He is said to be the best monarch +in Europe, and it is written most expressively in his mild, +amiable features.</p> + +<p>The Duke is very unwilling to marry again, although the crown +passes from his family if he die without a male heir. He has +two daughters, lovely children, between five and seven, whose +mother died not quite a year since. She was unusually beloved, +both by her husband and his subjects, and is still talked of by the +people, and never without the deepest regret. She was very +religious, and is said to have died of a cold taken in doing a +severe penance. The Duke watched with her day and night, till +she died; and I was told by the old Chamberlain, that he cannot +yet speak of her without tears.</p> + +<p>With the new year, the Grand Duke of Tuscany threw off his +mourning. Not from his countenance, for the sadness of that is +habitual; but his equipages have laid off their black trappings, +his grooms and outriders are in drab and gold, and, more important +to us strangers in his capital, the ducal palace is aired with +a weekly reception and ball, as splendid and hospitable as money +and taste can make them.</p> + +<p>Leopold of Tuscany is said to be the richest individual in +Europe. The Palazzo Pitti, in which he lives, seems to confirm +it. The exterior is marked with the character of the times in +which it was built, and might be that of a fortress—its long, dark +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">332</a></span> +front of roughly-hewn stone, with its two slight, out-curving +wings, bearing a look of more strength than beauty. The interior +is incalculably rich. The suite of halls on the front side is +the home of the choicest and most extensive gallery of pictures +in the world. The tables of inlaid gems and mosaic, the walls +encrusted with relievos, the curious floors, the drapery—all +satiate the eye with sumptuousness. It is built against a hill, +and I was surprised, on the night of the ball, to find myself +alighting from the carriage upon the same floor to which I had +mounted from the front by tediously long staircases. The Duke +thus rides in his carriage to his upper story—an advantage which +saves him no little fatigue and exposure. The gardens of the +Boboli, which cover the hill behind, rise far above the turrets of +the palace, and command glorious views of the Val d'Arno.</p> + +<p>The reception hour at the ball was from eight to nine. We were +received at the steps on the garden side of the palace, by a crowd +of servants, in livery, under the orders of a fat major-domo, and +passing through a long gallery, lined with exotics and grenadiers, +we arrived at the anteroom, where the Duke's body-guard of +nobles were drawn up in attendance. The band was playing delightfully +in the saloon beyond. I had arrived late, having been +presented a few days before, and desirous of avoiding the stiffness +of the first hour of presentation. The rooms were in a blaze of +light from eight <i>trees</i> of candles, cypress-shaped, and reaching +from the floor to the ceiling, and the company entirely assembled, +crowded them with a dazzling show of jewels, flowers, feathers, +and uniforms.</p> + +<p>The Duke and the Grand Duchess (the widow of the late +Duke) stood in the centre of the room, and in the pauses of conversation, +the different ambassadors presented their countrymen. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">333</a></span> +His highness was dressed in a suit of plain black, probably the +worst made clothes in Florence. With his pale, timid face, his +bent shoulders, an inexpressibly ill-tied cravat, and rank, untrimmed +whiskers, he was the most uncourtly person present. His +extreme popularity as a monarch is certainly very independent +of his personal address. His mother-in-law is about his own age, +with marked features, full of talent, a pale, high forehead, and +the bearing altogether of a queen. She wore a small diadem of +the purest diamonds, and with her height and her flashing jewels, +she was conspicuous from every part of the room. She is a high +Catholic, and is said to be bending all her powers upon the re-establishment +of the Jesuits in Florence.</p> + +<p>As soon as the presentations were over, the Grand Duke led +out the wife of the English ambassador, and opened the ball with +a waltz. He then danced a quadrille with the wife of the French +ambassador, and for his next partner selected an <i>American lady</i>—the +daughter of Colonel T——, of New York.</p> + +<p>The supper rooms were opened early, and among the delicacies +of a table loaded with everything rare and luxurious, were a brace +or two of pheasants from the Duke's estates in Germany. Duly +flavored with <i>truffes</i>, and accompanied with Rhine wines, which +deserved the conspicuous place given them upon the royal table—and +in this letter.</p> + +<p>I hardly dare speak of the degree of <i>beauty</i> in the assembly; +it is so difficult to compare a new impression with an old one, +and the thing itself is so indefinite. But there were two persons +present whose extreme loveliness, as it is not disputed even by +admiring envy, may be worth describing, for the sake of the +comparison.</p> + +<p>The Princess S—— may be twenty-four years of age. She is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">334</a></span> +of the middle height, with the slight stoop in her shoulders, +which is rather a grace than a fault. Her bust is exquisitely +turned, her neck slender but full, her arms, hands, and feet, +those of a Psyche. Her face is the abstraction of highborn +Italian beauty—calm, almost to indifference, of an indescribably +<i>glowing paleness</i>—a complexion that would be alabaster if it +were not for the richness of the blood beneath, betrayed in lips +whose depth of color and fineness of curve seem only too curiously +beautiful to be the work of nature. Her eyes are dark and +large, and must have had an indolent expression in her childhood, +but are now the very seat and soul of feeling. A constant trace +of pain mars the beauty of her forehead. She dresses her hair +with a kind of characteristic departure from the mode, parting +its glossy flakes on her brow with nymph-like simplicity, a peculiarity +which one regrets not to see in the too Parisian dress of +her person. In her manner she is strikingly elegant, but without +being absent, she seems to give an unconscious attention to what +is about her, and to be gracious and winning without knowing or +intending it, merely because she could not listen or speak otherwise. +Her voice is sweet, and, in her own Italian, mellow and +soft to a degree inconceivable by those who have not heard this +delicious language spoken in its native land. With all these advantages, +and a look of pride that nothing could insult, there is +an expression in her beautiful face that reminds you of her sex +and its temptations, and prepares you fully for the history which +you may hear from the first woman that stands at your elbow.</p> + +<p>The other is that English girl of seventeen, shrinking timidly +from the crowd, and leaning with her hands clasped over her +father's arm, apparently listening only to the waltz, and unconscious +that every eye is fixed upon her in admiration. She has +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">335</a></span> +lived all her life in Italy, but has been bred by an English +mother, in a retired villa of the Val d'Arno—her character and +feelings are those of her race, and nothing of Italy about her, but +the glow of its sunny clime in the else spotless snow of her complexion, +and an enthusiasm in her downcast eye that you may +account for as you will—it is not English! Her form has just +ripened into womanhood. The bust still wants fullness, and the +step confidence. Her forehead is rather too intellectual to be +maidenly; but the droop of her singularly long eye-lashes over +eyes that elude the most guarded glance of your own, and the +modest expression of her lips closed but not pressed together, +redeem her from any look of conscious superiority, and convince +you that she only seeks to be unobserved. A single ringlet of +golden brown hair falls nearly to her shoulder, catching the light +upon its glossy curves with an effect that would enchant a +painter. Lilies of the valley, the first of the season, are in her +bosom and her hair, and she might be the personification of the +flower for delicacy and beauty. You are only disappointed in +talking with her. She expresses herself with a nerve and self-command, +which, from a slight glance, you did not anticipate. +She shrinks from the general eye, but in conversation she is the +high-minded woman more than the timid child for which her +manner seems to mark her. In either light, she is the very +presence of purity. She stands by the side of her not less beautiful +rival, like a Madonna by a Magdalen—both seem not at +home in the world, but only one could have dropped from +heaven. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XLVIII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +VALLOMBROSA—ITALIAN OXEN—CONVENT—SERVICE IN THE +CHAPEL—HOUSE OCCUPIED BY MILTON.</p> + +<p>I left Florence for Vallombrosa at daylight on a warm summer's +morning, in company with four ladies. We drove along +the northern bank of the Arno for four or five miles, passing +several beautiful villas, belonging to the Florentine nobles; and, +crossing the river by a picturesque bridge, took the road to the +village of Pelago, which lies at the foot of the mountain, and is +the farthest point to which a carriage can mount. It is about +fourteen miles from Florence, and the ascent thence to the convent +is nearly three.</p> + +<p>We alighted in the centre of the village, in the midst of a ragged +troop of women and children, among whom were two idiot +beggars; and, while the preparations were making for our ascent, +we took chairs in the open square around a basket of cherries, +and made a delicious luncheon of fruit and bread, very much to +the astonishment of some two hundred spectators.</p> + +<p>Our conveyances appeared in the course of half an hour, consisting +of two large baskets, each drawn by a pair of oxen and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">337</a></span> +containing two persons, and a small Sardinian pony. The ladies +seated themselves with some hesitation in their singular sledges; +I mounted the pony, and we made a dusty exit from Pelago, +attended to the gate by our gaping friends, who bowed, and +wished us the <i>bon viaggio</i> with more gratitude than three Tuscan +<i>crazie</i> would buy, I am sure, in any other part of the world.</p> + +<p>The gray oxen of Italy are quite a different race from ours, +much lighter and quicker, and in a small vehicle they will trot +off five or six miles in the hour as freely as a horse. They are +exceedingly beautiful. The hide is very fine, of a soft squirrel +gray, and as sleek and polished often as that of a well-groomed +courser. With their large, bright, intelligent eyes, high-lifted +heads, and open nostrils, they are among the finest-looking animals +in the world in motion. We soon came to the steep path, +and the facility with which our singular equipages mounted was +surprising. I followed, as well as I could, on my diminutive +pony, my feet touching the ground, and my balance constantly +endangered by the contact of stumps and stones—the hard-mouthed +little creature taking his own way, in spite of every +effort of mine to the contrary.</p> + +<p>We stopped to breathe in a deep, cool glen, which lay across +our path, the descent into which was very difficult. The road +through the bottom of it ran just above the bank of a brook, into +which poured a pretty fall of eight or ten feet, and with the +spray-wet grass beneath, and the full-leaved chestnuts above, it +was as delicious a spot for a rest in a summer noontide as I ever +saw. The ladies took out their pencils and sketched it, making +a group themselves the while, which added all the picture +wanted.</p> + +<p>The path wound continually about in the deep woods, with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">338</a></span> +which the mountain is covered, and occasionally from an opening +we obtained a view back upon the valley of the Arno, which was +exceedingly fine. We came in sight of the convent in about two +hours, emerging from the shade of the thick chestnuts into a +cultivated lawn, fenced and mown with the nicety of the grass-plot +before a cottage, and entering upon a smooth, well-swept +pavement, approached the gate of the venerable-looking pile, as +anxious for the refreshment of its far-famed hospitality as ever +pilgrims were.</p> + +<p>An old cheerful-looking monk came out to meet us, and shaking +hands with the ladies very cordially, assisted in extracting +them from their cramped conveyances. He then led the way to +a small stone cottage, a little removed from the convent, quoting +gravely by the way the law of the order against the entrance of +females over the monastic threshold. We were ushered into a +small, neat parlor, with two bedrooms communicating, and two +of the servants of the monastery followed, with water and snow-white +napkins, the <i>padre degli forestieri</i>, as they called the old +monk, who received us, talking most volubly all the while.</p> + +<p>The cook appeared presently with a low reverence, and asked +what we would like for dinner. He ran over the contents of the +larder before we had time to answer his question, enumerating +half a dozen kinds of game, and a variety altogether that rather +surprised our ideas of monastical severity. His own rosy gills +bore testimony that it was not the kitchen of Dennis Bulgruddery.</p> + +<p>While dinner was preparing, Father Gasparo proposed a walk. +An avenue of the most majestic trees opened immediately away +from the little lawn before the cottage door. We followed it +perhaps half a mile round the mountain, threading a thick pine +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">339</a></span> +forest, till we emerged on the edge of a shelf of greensward, running +just under the summit of the hill. From this spot the view +was limited only by the power of the eye. The silver line of the +Mediterranean off Leghorn is seen hence on a clear day, between +which and the mountain lie sixty or seventy miles, wound into +the loveliest undulations by the course of the Arno. The vale +of this beautiful river, in which Florence stands, was just distinguishable +as a mere dell in the prospect. It was one of the sultriest +days of August, but the air was vividly fresh, and the sun, +with all the strength of the climate of Italy, was unoppressive. +We seated ourselves on the small fine grass of the hillside, and +with the good old monk narrating passages of his life, enjoyed +the glorious scene till the cook's messenger summoned us back to +dinner.</p> + +<p>We were waited upon at table by two young servitors of the +convent, with shaven crowns and long black cassocks, under the +direction of Father Gasparo, who sat at a little distance, entertaining +us with his inexhaustible stories till the bell rung for the +convent supper. The dinner would have graced the table of an +emperor. Soup, beef, cutlets, ducks, woodcocks, followed each +other, cooked in the most approved manner, with all the accompaniments +established by taste and usage; and better wine, white +and red, never was pressed from the Tuscan grape. The dessert +was various and plentiful; and while we were sitting, after +the good father's departure, wondering at the luxuries we had +found on a mountain-top, strong coffee and <i>liqueurs</i> were set before +us, both of the finest flavor.</p> + +<p>I was to sleep myself in the convent. Father Gasparo joined +us upon the wooden bench in the avenue, where we were enjoying +a brilliant sunset, and informed me that the gates shut at +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">340</a></span> +eight. The vesper-bell soon rung, echoing round from the rocks, +and I bade my four companions good night, and followed the +monk to the cloisters. As we entered the postern, he asked me +whether I would go directly to the cell, or attend first the service +in the chapel, assisting my decision at the same time by gently +slipping his arm through mine and drawing me toward the cloth +door, from which a strong peal of the organ was issuing.</p> + +<p>We lifted the suspended curtain, and entered a chapel so +dimly lit, that I could only judge of its extent from the reverberations +of the music. The lamps were all in the choir, behind +the altar, and the shuffling footsteps of the gathering monks +approached it from every quarter. Father Gasparo led me to +the base of a pillar, and telling me to kneel, left me and entered +the choir, where he was lost in the depth of one of the old richly-carved +seats for a few minutes, appearing again with thirty or +forty others, who rose and joined in the chorus of the chant, +making the hollow roof ring with the deep unmingled base of +their voices.</p> + +<p>I stood till I was chilled, listening to the service, and looking +at the long line of monks rising and sitting, with their monotonous +changes of books and positions, and not knowing which way +to go for warmth or retirement. I wandered up and down the +dim church during the remaining hour, an unwilling, but not +altogether an unamused spectator of the scene. The performers +of the service, with the exception of Father Gasparo, were +young men from sixteen to twenty; but during my slow turns to +and fro on the pavement of the church, fifteen or twenty old +monks entered, and, with a bend of the knee before the altar +went off into the obscure corners, and knelt motionless at prayer, +for almost an hour. I could just distinguish the dark outline of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">341</a></span> +their figures when my eye became accustomed to the imperfect +light, and I never saw a finer spectacle of religious devotion.</p> + +<p>The convent clock struck ten, and shutting up their "clasped +missals," the young monks took their cloaks about them, bent +their knees in passing the altar, and disappeared by different +doors. Father Gasparo was the last to depart, and our footsteps +echoed as we passed through the long cloisters to the cell appropriated +for me. We opened one of some twenty small doors, +and I was agreeably surprised to find a supper of cold game +upon the table, with a bottle of wine, and two plates—the monk +intending to give me his company at supper. The cell was hung +round with bad engravings of the Virgin, the death of martyrs, +crosses, &c., and a small oaken desk stood against the wall beneath +a large crucifix, with a prayer-book upon it. The bed +was high, ample, and spotlessly white, and relieved the otherwise +comfortless look of a stone floor and white-washed walls. I felt +the change from summer heat to the keen mountain air, and as I +shivered and buttoned my coat, my gay guest threw over me his +heavy black cowl of cloth—a dress that, with its closeness and +numerous folds, would keep one warm in Siberia. Adding to it +his little black scull-cap, he told me, with a hearty laugh, that +but for a certain absence of sanctity in the expression of my face, +and the uncanonical length of my hair, I looked the monk complete. +We had a merry supper. The wine was of a choicer +vintage than that we had drank at dinner, and the father answered, +upon my discovery of its merits, that he <i>never wasted it +upon women</i>.</p> + +<p>In the course of the conversation, I found out that my entertainer +was a kind of butler, or head-servitor of the convent, and +that the great body of the monks were of noble lineage. The +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">342</a></span> +feeling of pride still remains among them from the days when the +Certosa of Vallombrosa was a residence for princes, before its +splendid pictures were pillaged by a foreign army, its wealth +scattered, and its numbers diminished. "In those days," said +the monk, "we received nothing for our hospitality but the pleasure +it gave us"—relieving my mind, by the remark, of what I +looked forward to at parting as a delicate point.</p> + +<p>My host left me at midnight, and I went to bed, and slept +under a thick covering in an Italian August. "The blanched +linen, white and lavendered," seemed to have a peculiar charm, +for though I had promised to meet my excluded companions +at sunrise, on the top of the mountain, I slept soundly till +nine, and was obliged to breakfast alone in the refectory of the +convent.</p> + +<p>We were to dine at three, and start for Florence at four the +next day, and we spent our morning in traversing the mountain +paths, and getting views on every side. Fifty or a hundred feet +above the convent, perched on a rock like an eyry, stands a small +building in which Milton is supposed to have lived, during his six +weeks sojourn at the convent. It is now fitted up as a nest of +small chapels—every one of its six or eight little chambers +having an altar. The ladies were not permitted to enter it. I +selected the room I presumed the poet must have chosen—the +only one commanding the immense view to the west, and, looking +from the window, could easily feel the truth of his simile, "thick +as leaves in Vallombrosa." It is a mountain of foliage.</p> + +<p>Another sumptuous dinner was served, Father Gasparo sitting +by, even more voluble than before, the baskets and the pony were +brought to the door, and we bade farewell to the old monk with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">343</a></span> +more regret than a day's acquaintance often produces. We +reached our carriage in an hour, and were in Florence at eight—having +passed, by unanimous opinion, the two brightest days in +our calendar of travel. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER XLIX.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +HOUSE OF MICHAEL ANGELO—THE ANCIENT CHURCH OF SAN +MINIATO—MADAME CATALANI—WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR—MIDNIGHT +MASS, ETC.</p> + +<p>I went with a party this morning to visit <i>the house of Michael +Angelo</i>. It stands as he lived in it, in the Via Ghibellini, and is +still in possession of his descendants. It is a neat building of +three stories, divided on the second floor into three rooms, shown +as those occupied by the painter, sculptor, and poet. The first +is panelled and painted by his scholars after his death—each +picture representing some incident of his life. There are ten or +twelve of these, and several of them are highly beautiful. One +near the window represents him in his old age on a visit to +"Lorenzo the Magnificent," who commands him to sit in his +presence. The Duke is standing before his chair, and the figure +of the old man is finely expressive.</p> + +<p>The next room appears to have been his parlor, and the +furniture is exactly as it stood when he died. In one corner is +placed a bust of him in his youth, with his face perfect; and +opposite, another, taken from a cast after his nose was broken by +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">345</a></span> +a fellow painter in the church of the Carmine. There are also +one or two portraits of him, and the resemblance through them +all, shows that the likeness we have of him in the engravings are +uncommonly correct.</p> + +<p>In the inner room, which was his studio, they show his pallet, +brushes, pots, maul-sticks, slippers, and easel—all standing +carelessly in the little closets around, as if he had left them but +yesterday. The walls are painted in fresco, by Angelo himself, +and represent groups of all the distinguished philosophers, poets +and statesmen of his time. Among them are the heads of +Petrarch, Dante, Galileo, and Lorenzo de Medici. It is a noble +gallery! perhaps a hundred heads in all.</p> + +<p>The descendant of Buonarotti is now an old man, and +fortunately rich enough to preserve the house of his great +ancestor as an object of curiosity. He has a son, I believe +studying the arts at Rome.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>On a beautiful hill which ascends directly from one of the +southern gates of Florence, stands a church built so long ago as +at the close of the first century. The gate, church, and hill, are +all called San Miniato, after a saint buried under the church +pavement. A large, and at present flourishing convent, hangs on +the side of the hill below, and around the church stand the walls +of a strong fortress, built by Michael Angelo. A half mile or +more south, across a valley, an old tower rises against the sky, +which was erected for the observations of Galileo. A mile to +the left, on the same ridge, an old villa is to be seen in which +Boccaccio wrote most of his "Hundred Tales of Love." The +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">346</a></span> +Arno comes down from Vallombrosa, and passing through +Florence at the foot of San Miniato, is seen for three miles +further on its way to Pisa; the hill, tower, and convent of +Fiesole, where Milton studied and Catiline encamped with his +conspirators, rise from the opposite bank of the river; and right +below, as if you could leap into the lantern of the dome, nestles +the lovely city of Florence, in the lap of the very brightest vale +that ever mountain sheltered or river ran through. Such are the +temptations to a <i>walk in Italy</i>, and add to it the charms of the +climate, and you may understand one of a hundred reasons why +it is the land of poetry and romance, and why it so easily +becomes the land of a stranger's affection.</p> + +<p>The villas which sparkle all over the hills which lean unto +Florence, are occupied mainly by foreigners living here for health +or luxury, and most of them are known and visited by the floating +society of the place. Among them are Madame Catalani, the +celebrated singer, who occupies a beautiful palace on the ascent +of Fiesole, and Walter Savage Landor, the author of the +"Imaginary Conversations," as refined a scholar perhaps as is +now living, who is her near neighbor. A pleasant family of my +acquaintance lives just back of the fortress of San Miniato, and +in walking out to them with a friend yesterday, I visited the +church again, and remarked more particularly the features of +the scene I have described.</p> + +<p>The church of San Miniato was built by Henry I. of Germany, +and Cunegonde his wife. The front is pretty—a kind of mixture +of Greek and Arabic architecture, crusted with marble. The +interior is in the style of the primitive churches, the altar +standing in what was called the <i>presbytery</i>, a high platform +occupying a third of the nave, with two splendid flights of stairs +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">347</a></span> +of the purest white marble. The most curious part of it is the +rotunda in the rear, which is lit by five windows of transparent +oriental alabaster, each eight or nine feet high and three broad, in +single slabs. The sun shone full on one of them while we were +there, and the effect was inconceivably rich. It was like a sheet +of half molten gold and silver. The transparency of course was +irregular, but in the yellow spots of the stone the light came +through like the effect of deeply stained glass.</p> + +<p>A partly subterranean chapel, six or eight feet lower than the +pavement of the church, extends under the presbytery. It is a +labyrinth of marble columns which support the platform above, +no two of which are alike. The ancient cathedral of Modena is +the only church I have seen in Italy built in the same manner.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>The <i>midnight mass</i> on "Christmas eve," is abused in all +catholic countries, I believe, as a kind of saturnalia of gallantry. +I joined a party of young men who were leaving a ball for the +church of the Annunciata, the fashionable rendezvous, and we +were set down at the portico when the mass was about half over. +The entrances of the open vestibule were thronged to suffocation. +People of all ages and conditions were crowding in and out, and +the sound of the distant chant at the altar came to our ears as +we entered, mingled with every tone of address and reply from +the crowd about us. The body of the church was quite obscured +with the smoke of the incense. We edged our way on through +the press, carried about in the open area of the church by every +tide that rushed in from the various doors, till we stopped in a +thick eddy in the centre, almost unable to stir a limb. I could +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">348</a></span> +see the altar very clearly from this point, and I contented myself +with merely observing what was about me, leaving my motions to +the impulse of the crowd.</p> + +<p>It was a curiously mingled scene. The ceremonies of the +altar were going on in all their mysterious splendor. The waving +of censers, the kneeling and rising of the gorgeously clad priests, +accompanied simultaneously by the pealing of solemn music from +the different organs—the countless lights burning upon the altar, +and, ranged within the paling, a semicircle of the duke's +grenadiers, standing motionless, with their arms presented, while +the sentinel paced to and fro, and all kneeling, and grounding +arms at the tinkle of the slight bell—were the materials for the +back-ground of the picture. In the immense area of the +church stood perhaps, four thousand people, one third of whom, +doubtless, came to worship. Those who did and those who did +not, dropped alike upon the marble pavement at the sound of the +bell; and then, as I was heretic enough to stand, I had full +opportunity for observing both devotion and intrigue. The latter +was amusingly managed. Almost all the pretty and young +women were accompanied by an ostensible duenna, and the +methods of eluding their vigilance in communication were various. +I had detected under a <i>blond</i> wig, in entering, the young +ambassador of a foreign court, who being <i>cavaliere servente</i> to one +of the most beautiful women in Florence, certainly had no right +to the amusement of the hour. We had been carried up the +church in the same tide, and when the whole crowd were +prostrate, I found him just beyond me, slipping a card into the +shoe of an uncommonly pretty girl kneeling before him. She +was attended by both father and mother apparently, but as she +gave no sign of surprise, except stealing an almost imperceptible +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">349</a></span> +glance behind her, I presumed she was not offended. I passed +an hour, perhaps, in amused observation of similar matters, most +of which could not be well described on paper. It is enough to +say, that I do not think more dissolute circumstances accompanied +the worship of Venus in the most defiled of heathen temples. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER L.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +FLORENCE—VISIT TO THE CHURCH OF SAN GAETANO—PENITENTIAL +PROCESSIONS—THE REFUGEE CARLISTS—THE MIRACLE OF RAIN—CHURCH +OF THE ANNUNCIATA—TOMB OF GIOVANNI DI BOLOGNA—MASTERPIECE +OF ANDREA DEL SARTO, ETC., ETC.</p> + +<p>I heard the best passage of the opera of "Romeo and Juliet" +delightfully played in the church of <i>San Gaetano</i> this morning. +I was coming from the <i>café</i>, where I had been breakfasting, +when the sound of the organ drew me in. The communion +was administering at one of the side chapels, the showy +Sunday mass was going on at the great altar, and the numerous +confession boxes were full of penitents, <i>all female</i>, as usual. +As I took a seat near the communicants, the sacred wafer was +dipped into the cup and put into the mouth of a young woman +kneeling before the railing. She rose soon after, and I was +not lightly surprised to find it was a certain errand-girl of a +bachelor's washerwoman, as unfit a person for the holy sacrament +as wears a petticoat in Florence.</p> + +<p>I was drawn by the agreeable odor of the incense to the paling +of the high altar. The censers were flung by unseen hands from +the doors of the sacristy at the sides, and an unseen chorus of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">351</a></span> +boys in the choir behind, broke in occasionally with the high-keyed +chant that echoes with its wild melody from every arch and corner +of these immense churches. It seems running upon the highest +note that the ear can bear, and yet nothing could be more +musical. A man knelt on the pavement near me, with two +coarse baskets beside him, and the traces of long and dirty +travel from his heels to his hips. He had stopped in to the mass, +probably, on his way to market. There can be no greater +contrast than that seen in Catholic churches, between the splendor +of architecture, renowned pictures, statues and ornaments of +silver and gold, and the crowd of tattered, famished, misery-marked +worshippers that throng them. I wonder it never +occurs to them, that the costly pavement upon which they kneel +might feed and clothe them.<a name="FNanchor_6" id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p> + +<p>Penitential processions are to be met all over Florence to-day, +on account of the uncommon degree of sickness. One of them +passed under my window just now. They are composed of +people of all classes, upon whom it is inflicted as a penance by +the priests. A white robe covers them entirely, even the face, +and, with their eyes glaring through the two holes made for that +purpose, they look like processions of shrouded corpses. Eight +of the first carry burning candles of six feet in length, and a +company in the rear have the church books, from which they +chant, the whole procession joining in a melancholy chorus of +three notes. It rains hard to-day, and their white dresses cling +to them with a ludicrously ungraceful effect. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">352</a></span></p> + +<p>Florence is an unhealthful climate in the winter. The +tramontane winds come down from the Appenines so sharply, that +delicate constitutions, particularly those liable to pulmonary +complaints, suffer invariably. There has been a dismal mortality +among the Italians. The Marquis Corsi, who presented me at +court a week ago (the last day he was out, and the last duty he +performed), lies in state, at this moment, in the church of Santa +Trinita, and another of the duke's counsellors of state died a few +days before. His prime minister, Fossombroni, is dangerously +ill also, and all of the same complaint, the <i>mal di petto</i>, as it is +called, or disease of the lungs. Corsi is a great loss to Americans. +He was the grand chamberlain of court, wealthy and +hospitable, and took particular pride in fulfilling the functions of +an American ambassador. He was a courtier of the old school, +accomplished, elegant, and possessed of universal information.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>The <i>refugee Carlists</i> are celebrating to-day, in the church of +Santa Maria Novella, the anniversary of the death of <i>Louis XVI</i>. +The bishop of Strasbourg is here, and is performing high mass +for the soul of the "<i>martyr</i>," as they term him. Italy is full +of the more aristocratic families of France, and it has become +<i>mauvais ton</i> in society to advocate the present government of +France, or even its principles. They detest Louis Philippe with +the virulence of a deadly private enmity, and declare universally, +that they will exile themselves till they can return to overthrow +him. Among the refugees are great numbers of young men, who +are sent away from home with a chivalrous devotion to the cause +of the Duchess of Berri, which they avow so constantly in the +circles of Italian society, that she seems the exclusive heroine of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">353</a></span> +the day. There was nothing seen of the French exquisites in +Florence for a week after she was taken. They were in mourning +for the misfortune of their mistress.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>All Florence is ringing with <i>the miracle</i>. The city fountains +have for some days been dry, and the whole country was suffering +for rain. <i>The day before the moon changed</i>, the procession began, +and the day after, when the sky was full of clouds, the holy +picture in the church of the Annunciata, "painted by St. Luke +himself," was solemnly uncovered. The result was the present +miracle of <i>rain</i>, and the priests are preaching upon it from every +pulpit. The <i>padrone</i> of my lodgings came in this morning, and +told me the circumstances with the most serious astonishment.</p> + +<p>I joined the crowd this morning, who are still thronging up the +<i>via de Servi</i> to the church of the Annunciata at all hours of the +day. The square in front of the church was like a fair—every +nook occupied with the little booths of the sellers of rosaries, +saints books, and pictures. We were assailed by a troop of +pedlars at the door, holding leaden medals and crucifixes, and +crying, at the top of their voices, for <i>fidele Christiani</i> to spend a +crazie for the love of God.</p> + +<p>After crowding up the long cloister with a hundred or two of +wretches, steaming from the rain, and fresh from every filthy +occupation in the city, we were pushed under the suspended +leather door, and reached the nave of the church. In the slow +progress we made toward the altar, I had full opportunity to +study the fretted-gold ceiling above me, the masterly pictures in +the side chapels, the statuary, carving, and general architecture. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">354</a></span> +Description can give you no idea of the waste of splendor in these +places.</p> + +<p>I stood at last within sight of the miraculous picture. It is +painted in fresco, above an altar surrounded with a paling of +bronze and marble projecting into the body of the church. +Eight or ten massive silver lamps, each one presented by some +<i>trade</i> in Florence, hung from the roof of the chapel, burning +with a dusky glare in the daylight. A grenadier, with cap and +musket, stood on each side of the bronze gate, repressing the +eager rush of the crowd. Within, at the side of the altar, stood +the officiating priest, a man with a look of intellect and nobleness +on his fine features and lofty forehead, that seemed irreconcilable +with the folly he was performing. The devotees came in, one by +one, as they were admitted by the sentinel, knelt, offered their +rosary to the priest, who touched it to the frame of the picture +with one hand, and received their money with the other, and then +crossing themselves, and pressing the beads to their bosom, passed +out at the small door leading into the cloisters.</p> + +<p>As the only chance of seeing the picture, I bought a rosary for +two crazie (about three cents), and pressed into the throng. In +a half hour it came to my turn to pass the guard. The priest +took my silver paul, and while he touched the beads to the +picture, I had a moment to look at it nearly. I could see +nothing but a confused mass of black paint, with an indistinct +outline of the head of the Madonna in the centre. The large +spiked rays of glory standing out from every side were all I could +see in the imperfect light. The richness of the chapel itself, +however, was better worth the trouble to see. It is quite +encrusted with silver. Silver <i>bassi relievi</i>, two silver candelabra, +six feet in height, two very large silver statues of angels, a <i>ciborio</i> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">355</a></span> +(enclosing a most exquisite head of our Saviour, by <i>Andrea del +Sarto</i>), a massive silver cornice sustaining a heavily folded silver +curtain, and silver lilies and lamps in any quantity all around. I +wonder, after the plundering of the church of San Antonio, at +Padua, that these useless riches escaped Napoleon.</p> + +<p>How some of the priests, who are really learned and clever +men, can lend themselves to such barefaced imposture as this +miracle, it is difficult to conceive. The picture has been kept as +a doer of these miracles, perhaps for a century. It is never +uncovered in vain. Supernatural results are certain to follow, +and it is done as often as they dare to make a fresh draught on +the credulity and money of the people. The story is as follows: +"A certain Bartolomeo, while painting a fresco of the annunciation, +being at a loss how to make the countenance of the Madonna +properly seraphic, fell asleep while pondering over his work; and, +on waking, found it executed in a style he was unable to equal." +I can only say that St. Luke, or the angel, or whoever did it, +was a very indifferent draughtsman. It is ill drawn, and +whatever the colors might have been upon the pallet of the +sleepy painter, they were not made immortal by angelic use. It +is a mass of confused black.</p> + +<p>I was glad to get away from the crowd and their mummery, +and pay a new tribute of reverence at the tomb of <i>Giovanni di +Bologna</i>. He is buried behind the grand altar, in a chapel +ornamented at his own expense, and with his own inimitable +works. Six bas-reliefs in bronze, than which life itself is not +more natural, represent different passages of our Saviour's history. +They were done for the Grand Duke, who, at the death of the +artist, liberally gave them to ornament his tomb. After the authors +of the Venus and the Apollo Belvidere, John of Bologna is, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">356</a></span> +in my judgment, the greatest of sculptors. His <i>mounting Mercury</i>, +in the Florence gallery, might have been a theft from heaven for +its divine beauty.</p> + +<p>In passing out by the cloisters of the adjoining convent, I +stopped a moment to see the fresco of the <i>Madonna del Sacco</i>, +said to have been the masterpiece of <i>Andrea del Sarto</i>. Michael +Angelo and Raphael are said to have "gazed at it unceasingly." +It is much defaced, and preserves only its graceful drawing. The +countenance of Mary has the <i>beau reste</i> of singular loveliness. +The models of this delightful artist (who, by the way, is buried +in the vestibule of this same church), must have been the most +beautiful in the world. All his pictures move the heart. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LI.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +FLORENTINE PECULIARITIES—SOCIETY—BALLS—DUCAL ENTERTAINMENTS—PRIVILEGE +OF STRANGERS—FAMILIES OF HIGH +RANK—THE EXCLUSIVES—SOIREES—PARTIES OF A RICH BANKER—PEASANT +BEAUTY—VISITERS OF A BARONESS—AWKWARD +DEPORTMENT OF A PRINCE—A CONTENTED MARRIED LADY—HUSBANDS, +CAVALIERS, AND WIVES—PERSONAL MANNERS—HABITS +OF SOCIETY, ETC.</p> + +<p>I am about starting on my second visit to Rome, after having +passed nearly three months in Florence. As I have seen most +of the society of this gayest and fairest of the Italian cities, it +may not be uninteresting to depart a little from the traveller's +routine by sketching a feature or two.</p> + +<p>Florence is a resort for strangers from every part of the world. +The gay society is a mixture of all nations, of whom one third +may be Florentine, one third English, and the remaining part +equally divided between Russians, Germans, French, Poles, and +Americans. The English entertain a great deal, and give most +of the balls and dinner parties. The Florentines seldom trouble +themselves to give parties, but are always at home for visits in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">358</a></span> +the <i>prima sera</i> (from seven till nine), and in their box at the +opera. They go, without scruple, to all the strangers' balls, +considering courtesy repaid, perhaps, by the weekly reception of +the Grand Duke, and a weekly ball at the club-house of young +Italian noblemen.</p> + +<p>The ducal entertainments occur every Tuesday, and are the +most splendid of course. The foreign ministers present all of +their countrymen who have been presented at their own courts, +and the company is necessarily more select than elsewhere. The +Florentines who go to court are about seven hundred, of whom +half are invited on each week—strangers, when once presented, +having the double privilege of coming uninvited to all. There +are several Italian families, of the highest rank, who are seen +only here; but, with the single exception of one unmarried girl, +of uncommon beauty, who bears a name celebrated in Italian history, +they are no loss to general society. Among the foreigners +of rank, are three or four German princes, who play high and +waltz well, and are remarkable for nothing else; half a dozen +star-wearing dukes, counts, and marquises, of all nations and in +any quantity, and a few English noblemen and noble ladies—only +the latter nation showing their blood at all in their features +and bearing.</p> + +<p>The most exclusive society is that of the Prince Montfort +(Jerome Bonaparte), whose splendid palace is shut entirely +against the English, and difficult of access to all. He makes a +single exception in favor of a descendant of the Talbots, a lady +whose beauty might be an apology for a much graver departure +from rule. He has given two grand entertainments since the +carnival commenced, to which nothing was wanting but people to +enjoy them. The immense rooms were flooded with light, the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">359</a></span> +music was the best Florence could give, the supper might have +supped an army—stars and red ribands entered with every fresh +comer, but it looked like a "banquet hall deserted." Some +thirty ladies, and as many men, were all that Florence contained +worthy of the society of the Ex-King. A kinder man in his manners, +however, or apparently a more affectionate husband and +father, I never saw. He opened the dance by waltzing with the +young Princess, his daughter, a lovely girl of fourteen, of whom +he seems fond to excess, and he was quite the gayest person in +the company till the ball was over. The Ex-Queen, who is a +miracle of size, sat on a divan, with her ladies of honor about her, +following her husband with her eyes, and enjoying his gayety +with the most childish good humor.</p> + +<p>The Saturday evening <i>soirées</i>, at Prince Poniatowski's (a +brother of the hero), are perhaps as agreeable as any in Florence. +He has several grown-up sons and daughters married, and, with +a very sumptuous palace and great liberality of style, he has +made his parties more than usually valued. His eldest daughter +is the leader of the fashion, and his second is the "cynosure of +all eyes." The old Prince is a tall, bent, venerable man, with +snow-white hair, and very peculiarly marked features. He is +fond of speaking English, and professes a great affection for +America.</p> + +<p>Then there are the <i>soirées</i> of the rich banker, Fenzi, which, as +they are subservient to business, assemble all ranks on the common +pretensions of interest. At the last, I saw, among other +curiosities, a young girl of eighteen from one of the more common +families of Florence—a fine specimen of the peasant beauty +of Italy. Her heavily moulded figure, hands, and feet, were +quite forgiven when you looked at her dark, deep, indolent eye, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">360</a></span> +and glowing skin, and strongly-lined mouth and forehead. The +society was evidently new to her, but she had a manner quite +beyond being astonished. It was the kind of <i>animal dignity</i> so +universal in the lower classes of this country.</p> + +<p>A German baroness of high rank receives on the Mondays, and +here one sees foreign society in its highest coloring. The prettiest +woman that frequents her parties, is a Genoese marchioness, +who has <i>left her husband</i> to live with a Lucchese count, who has +<i>left his wife</i>. He is a very accomplished man, with the look of +Mephistopheles in the "Devil's Walk," and she is certainly a +most fascinating woman. She is received in most of the good +society of Florence—a severe, though a very just comment on its +character. A Prince, the brother of the King of ——, divided +the attention of the company with her last Monday. He is a +tall, military-looking man, with very bad manners, ill at ease, +and impudent at the same time. He entered with his suite in +the middle of a song. The singer stopped, the company rose, +the Prince swept about, bowing like a dancing-master, and, after +the sensation had subsided, the ladies were taken up and presented +to him, one by one. He asked them all the same question, +stayed through two songs, which he spoiled by talking loudly +all the while, and then bowed himself out in the same awkward +style, leaving everybody more happy for his departure.</p> + +<p>One gains little by his opportunities of meeting Italian ladies +in society. The <i>cavaliere servente</i> flourishes still as in the days of +Beppo, and it is to him only that the lady condescends to <i>talk</i>. +There is a delicate, refined-looking, little marchioness here, who +is remarkable as being the only known Italian lady without a +cavalier. They tell you, with an amused smile, "that she is +content with her husband." It really seems to be a business of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">361</a></span> +real love between the lady of Italy and her cavalier. Naturally +enough too—for her parents marry her without consulting her at +all, and she selects a friend afterward, as ladies in other countries +select a lover who is to end in a husband. The married couple +are never seen together by any accident, and the lady and her +cavalier never apart. The latter is always invited with her as a +matter of course, and the husband, if there is room, or if he is +not forgotten. She is insulted if asked without a cavalier, but is +quite indifferent whether her husband goes with her or not. +These are points <i>really settled</i> in the policy of society, and the +rights of the cavalier are specified in the marriage contracts. I +had thought, until I came to Italy, that such things were either +a romance, or customs of an age gone by.</p> + +<p>I like very much the personal manners of the Italians. They +are mild and courteous to the farthest extent of looks and words. +They do not entertain, it is true, but their great dim rooms are +free to you whenever you can find them at home, and you are at +liberty to join the gossiping circle around the lady of the house, +or sit at the table and read, or be silent unquestioned. You are +<i>let alone</i>, if you seem to choose it, and it is neither commented +on, nor thought uncivil, and this I take to be a grand excellence +in manners.</p> + +<p>The society is dissolute, I think, almost without an exception. +The English fall into its habits, with the difference that they do +not conceal it so well, and have the appearance of knowing its +wrong—which the Italians have not. The latter are very much +shocked at the want of propriety in the management of the English. +To suffer the particulars of an intrigue to get about is a +worse sin, in their eyes, than any violation of the commandments. +It is scarce possible for an American to conceive the universal +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">362</a></span> +corruption of a society like this of Florence, though, if he were +not told of it he would think it all that was delicate and attractive. +There are external features in which the society of our +own country is far less scrupulous and proper. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +SIENNA—POGGIOBONSI—BONCONVENTO—ENCOURAGEMENT OF +FRENCH ARTISTS BY THEIR GOVERNMENT—ACQUAPENDENTE—POOR +BEGGAR, THE ORIGINAL OF A SKETCH BY COLE—BOLSENA—VOLSCENIUM—SCENERY—CURIOUS +STATE OF THE CHESTNUT WOODS.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sienna.</span>—A day and a half on my second journey to Rome. +With a party of four nations inside, and two strangers, probably +Frenchmen, in the cabriolet, we have jogged on at some three +miles in the hour, enjoying the lovely scenery of these lower +Appenines at our leisure. We slept last night at Poggiobonsi, a +little village on a hill-side, and arrived at Sienna for our mid-day +rest. I pencil this note after an hour's ramble over the city, +visiting once more the cathedral, with its encrusted marbles and +naked graces, and the shell-shaped square in the centre of the +city, at the rim of which the eight principal streets terminate. +There is a fountain in the midst, surrounded with <i>bassi relievi</i> +much disfigured. It was mentioned by Dante. The streets +were deserted, it being Sunday, and all the people at the Corso, +to see the racing of horses without riders. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">364</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bonconvento.</span>—We sit, with the remains of a traveller's +supper on the table—six very social companions. Our cabriolet +friends are two French artists, on their way to study at Rome. +They are both pensioners of the government, each having gained +the annual prize at the academy in his separate branch of art, +which entitles him to five years' support in Italy. They are full +of enthusiasm, and converse with all the amusing vivacity of their +nation. The academy of France send out in this manner five +young men annually, who have gained the prizes for painting, +sculpture, architecture, music, and engraving.</p> + +<p>This is the place where Henry the Seventh of Germany was +poisoned by a monk, on his way to Rome. The drug was given +to him in the communion cup. The "Ave Marie" was ringing +when we drove into town, and I left the carriage and followed the +crowd, in the hope of finding an old church where the crime +might have been committed. But the priest was mumbling the +service in a new chapel, which no romance that I could summon +would picture as the scene of a tragedy.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Acquapendente.</span>—While the dirty customhouse officer is +deciphering our passports, in a hole a dog would live in unwillingly, +I take out my pencil to mark once more the pleasure I +have received from the exquisite scenery of this place. The +wild rocks enclosing the little narrow valley below, the waterfalls, +the town on its airy perch above, the just starting vegetation of +spring, the roads lined with snowdrops, crocuses and violets, have +renewed, in a tenfold degree, the delight with which I saw this +romantic spot on my former journey to Rome.</p> + +<p>We crossed the mountain of Radicofani yesterday, in so thick +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">365</a></span> +a mist that I could not even distinguish the ruin of the old castle, +towering into the clouds above. The wild, half-naked people +thronged about us as before, and I gave another paul to the old +beggar with whom I became acquainted by Mr. Cole's graphic +sketch. The winter had, apparently, gone hard with him. He +was scarce able to come to the carriage window, and coughed so +hollowly that I thought he had nearly begged his last pittance.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolsena.</span>—we walked in advance of the vetturino along the +borders of this lovely and beautiful lake till we are tired. Our +artists have taken off their coats with the heat, and sit, a quarter +of a mile further on, pointing in every direction at these unparalleled +views. The water is as still as a mirror, with a soft mist +on its face, and the water-fowl in thousands are diving and floating +within gunshot of us. An afternoon in June could not be +more summer-like, and this, to a lover of soft climate, is no +trifling pleasure.</p> + +<p>A mile behind us lies the town, the seat of ancient <i>Volscinium</i>, +the capital of the Volscians. The country about is one quarry +of ruins, mouldering away in the moss. Nobody can live in +health in the neighborhood, and the poor pale wretches who call +it a home are in melancholy contrast to the smiling paradise +about them. Before us, in the bosom of the lake, lie two green +islands, those which Pliny records to have floated in his time +and one of which, <i>Martana</i>, a small conical isle, was the scene +of the murder of the queen of the Goths, by her cousin Theodatus. +She was taken there and strangled. It is difficult to +imagine, with such a sea of sunshine around and over it, that it +was ever anything but a spot of delight.</p> + +<p>The whole neighborhood is covered with rotten trunks of trees—a +thing which at first surprised me in a country where wood is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">366</a></span> +so economised. It is accounted for in the French guide-book of +one of our party by the fact, that the chestnut woods of Bolsena +are considered sacred by the people, from their antiquity, and are +never cut. The trees have ripened and fallen and rotted thus for +centuries—one cause, perhaps, of the deadly change in the air.</p> + +<p>The vetturino comes lumbering up, and I must pocket my +pencil and remount. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LIII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +MONTEFIASCONE—ANECDOTE OF THE WINE—VITERBO—MOUNT +CIMINO—TRADITION—VIEW OF ST. PETER'S—ENTRANCE INTO +ROME—A STRANGER'S IMPRESSIONS OF THE CITY.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Montefiascone.</span>—We have stopped for the night at the hotel +of this place, so renowned for its wine—the remnant of a bottle +of which stands, at this moment, twinkling between me and my +French companions. The ladies of our party have gone to bed, +and left us in the room where sat <i>Jean Defoucris</i>, the merry +German monk, who died of excess in drinking the same liquor +that flashes through this straw-covered flask. The story is told +more fully in the French guide-books. A prelate of Augsbourg, +on a pilgrimage to Rome, sent forward his servant with orders to +mark every tavern where the wine was good with the word <i>est</i>, in +large letters of chalk. On arriving at this hotel, the monk saw +the signal thrice written over the door—<i>Est! Est! Est!</i> +He put up his mule, and drank of Montefiascone till he died. +His servant wrote his epitaph, which is still seen in the church +of St. Florian:—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<p class="o1">"Propter minium <span class="s07">EST</span>, <span class="s07">EST</span>,</p> +<p>Dominus meus mortuus <span class="s07">EST</span>!"</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">368</a></span> +"<i>Est, Est, Est!</i>" is the motto upon the sign of the hotel to +this day.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>In wandering about Viterbo in search of amusement, while the +horses were baiting, I stumbled upon the shop of an antiquary. +After looking over his medals, Etruscan vases, cameos, &c., a +very interesting collection, I inquired into the state of trade for +such things in Viterbo. He was a cadaverous, melancholy +looking old man, with his pockets worn quite out with the habit +of thrusting his hands into them, and about his mouth and eye +there was the proper virtuoso expression of inquisitiveness and +discrimination. He kept also a small <i>café</i> adjoining his shop, +into which we passed, as he shrugged his shoulders at my question. +I had wondered to find a vender of costly curiosities in a town of +such poverty, and I was not surprised at the sad fortunes which +had followed upon his enterprise. They were a base herd, he +said, of the people, utterly ignorant of the value of the precious +objects he had for sale and he had been compelled to open a +<i>café</i>, and degrade himself by waiting on them for a contemptible +<i>crazie</i> worth of coffee, while his lovely antiquities lay unappreciated +within. The old gentleman was eloquent upon his +misfortunes. He had not been long in trade, and had collected +his museum originally for his own amusement. He was an odd +specimen, in a small way, of a man who was quite above his +sphere, and suffered for his superiority. I bought a pretty +<i>intaglio</i>, and bade him farewell, after an hour's acquaintance, +with quite the feeling of a friend.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">369</a></span></p> + +<p>Mount Cimino rose before us soon after leaving Viterbo, and +we walked up most of the long and gentle ascent, inhaling the +odor of the spicy plants for which it is famous, and looking out +sharply for the brigands with which it is always infested. English +carriages are constantly robbed on this part of the route of late. +The robbers are met usually in parties of ten and twelve, and, a +week before we passed, Lady Berwick (the widow of an English +nobleman, and a sister of the famous Harriet Wilson) was +stopped and plundered in broad mid-day. The excessive distress +among the peasantry of these misgoverned States accounts for +these things, and one only wonders why there is not even more +robbing among such a starving population. This mountain, by +the way, and the pretty lake below it, are spoken of in the +Æneid: "<i>Cimini cum monte locum</i>," etc. There is an ancient +tradition, that in the crescent-shaped valley which the lake fills, +there was formerly a city, which was overwhelmed by the rise of +the water, and certain authors state that when the lake is clear, +the ruins are still to be seen at the bottom.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>The sun rose upon us as we reached the mountain above +Baccano, on the sixth day of our journey, and, by its clear +golden flood, we saw the dome of St. Peter's, at a distance of +sixteen miles, towering amid the campagna in all its majestic +beauty. We descended into the vast plain, and traversed its +gentle undulations for two or three hours. With the forenoon +well advanced, we turned into the valley of the Tiber, and saw +the home of Raphael, a noble chateau on the side of a hill, near +the river, and, in the little plain between, the first peach-trees we +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">370</a></span> +had seen, in full blossom. The tomb of Nero is on one side of +the road, before crossing the Tiber, and on the other a newly +painted and staring <i>restaurant</i>, where the modern Roman +cockneys drive for punch and ices. The bridge of Pontemolle, +by which we passed into the immediate suburb of Rome, was the +ancient <i>Pons Æmilius</i>, and here Cicero arrested the conspirators +on their way to join Catiline in his camp. It was on the same +bridge, too, that Constantine saw his famous vision, and gained +his victory over the tyrant Maxentius.</p> + +<p>Two miles over the <i>Via Flaminia</i>, between garden walls that +were ornamented with sculpture and inscription in the time of +Augustus, brought us to the <i>Porta del Popolo</i>. The square +within this noble gate is modern, but very imposing. Two +streets diverge before you, as far away as you can see into the +heart of the city, a magnificent fountain sends up its waters in +the centre, the façades of two handsome churches face you as +you enter, and on the right and left are gardens and palaces of +princely splendor. Gay and sumptuous equipages cross it in +every direction, driving out to the villa Borghese, and up to the +Pincian mount, the splendid troops of the Pope are on guard, and +the busy and stirring population of modern Rome swell out to +its limit like the ebb and flow of the sea. All this disappoints +while it impresses the stranger. He has come to Rome—but it +was <i>old</i> Rome that he had pictured to his fancy. The Forum, +the ruins of her temples, the palaces of her emperors, the homes +of her orators, poets, and patriots, the majestic relics of the once +mistress of the world, are the features in his anticipation. But +he enters by a modern gate to a modern square, and pays his +modern coin to a whiskered officer of customs; and in the place +of a venerable Belisarius begging an obolus in classic Latin, he is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">371</a></span> +beset by a troop of lusty and filthy lazzaroni entreating for +a <i>baioch</i> in the name of the Madonna, and in effeminate Italian. +He drives down the Corso, and reads nothing but French signs, +and sees all the familiar wares of his own country exposed for +sale, and every other person on the <i>pave</i> is an Englishman, with +a narrow-rimmed hat and whalebone stick, and with an hour at +the Dogama, where his baggage is turned inside out by a snuffy +old man who speaks French, and a reception at a hotel where the +porter addresses him in his own language, whatever it may be; +he goes to bed under Parisian curtains, and tries to dream of the +Rome he could not realize while awake. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LIV.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +APPIAN WAY—TOMB OF CECILIA METELLA—ALBANO—TOMB OF THE +CURIATII—ARICIA—TEMPLE OF DIANA—FOUNTAIN OF EGERIA—LAKE +OF NEMI—VELLETRI—PONTINE MARSHES—CONVENT—CANAL—TERRACINA—SAN +FELICE—FONDI—STORY OF JULIA +GONZAGA—CICERO'S GARDEN AND TOMB—MOLA—MINTURNA—RUINS +OF AN AMPHITHEATRE AND TEMPLE—FALERNIAN MOUNT +AND WINE—THE DOCTOR OF ST. AGATHA—CAPUA—ENTRANCE +INTO NAPLES—THE QUEEN.</p> + +<p>With the intention of returning to Rome for the ceremonies of +the holy week, I have merely passed through on my way to Naples. +We left it the morning after our arrival, going by the "Appian +way" to mount Albano, which borders the Campagna on the +south, at a distance of fifteen miles. This celebrated road is +lined with the ruined tombs of the Romans. Off at the right, +some four or five miles from the city, rises the fortress-like <i>tomb +of Cecilia Metella</i>, so exquisitely mused upon by Childe Harold. +This, says Sismondi, with the tombs of Adrian and Augustus, +became fortresses of banditti, in the thirteenth century, and were +taken by Brancallone, the Bolognese governor of Rome, who +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">373</a></span> +hanged the marauders from the walls. It looks little like "a +woman's grave."</p> + +<p>We changed horses at the pretty village of Albano, and, on +leaving it, passed an ancient mausoleum, believed to be the tomb +of the Curiatii who fought the Horatii on this spot. It is a large +structure, and had originally four pyramids on the corners, two +of which only remain.</p> + +<p>A mile from Albano lies Aricia, in a country of the loveliest +rural beauty. Here was the famous temple of Diana, and here +were the lake and grove sacred to the "virgin huntress," and +consecrated as her home by peculiar worship. The fountain of +Egeria is here, where Numa communed with the nymph, and the +lake of Nemi, on the borders of which the temple stood, and which +was called <i>Diana's mirror</i> (<i>speculum Dianæ</i>), is at this day, perhaps, +one of the sweetest gems of natural scenery in the world.</p> + +<p>We slept at Velletri, a pretty town of some twelve thousand +inhabitants, which stands on a hill-side, leaning down to the +Pontine marshes. It was one of the grand days of carnival, and +the streets were full of masks, walking up and down in their +ridiculous dresses, and committing every sort of foolery. The +next morning, by daylight, we were upon the Pontine marshes, +the long thirty miles level of which we passed in an unbroken trot, +one part of a day's journey of seventy-five miles, done by the +<i>same horses</i>, at the rate of six miles in the hour! They are small, +compact animals, and look in good condition, though they do as +much habitually.</p> + +<p>At a distance of fifteen miles from Velletri, we passed a convent, +which is built opposite the spot where St. Paul was met by +his friends, on his journey from the seaside to Rome. The +canal upon which Horace embarked on his celebrated journey to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">374</a></span> +Brundusium, runs parallel with the road for its whole distance. +This marshy desert is inhabited by a race of as wretched beings, +perhaps, as are to be found upon the face of the earth. The +pestiferous miasma of the pools is certain destruction to health, +and the few who are needed at the distant post-houses, crawl out +to the road-side like so many victims from a pest-house, stooping +with weakness, hollow-eyed, and apparently insensible to everything. +The feathered race seems exempt from its influence, and +the quantities of game of every known description are incredible. +The ground was alive with wild geese, turkeys, pigeons, plover, +ducks, and numerous birds we did not know, as far as the eye +could distinguish. The travelling books caution against sleeping +in the carriage while passing these marshes, but we found it next +to impossible to resist the heavy drowsiness of the air.</p> + +<p>At Terracina the marshes end, and the long avenue of elms +terminates at the foot of a romantic precipice, which is washed +by the Mediterranean. The town is most picturesquely built between +the rocky wall and the sea. We dined with the hollow +murmur of the surf in our ears, and then, presenting our passports, +entered the kingdom of Naples. This Terracina, by the +way, was the ancient <i>Anxur</i>, which Horace describes in his +line—</p> + +<p class="blockquot"> +"Impositum late saxis candentibus Anxur." +</p> + +<p>For twenty or thirty miles before arriving at Terracina, we +had seen before us the headland of Circœum, lying like a mountain +island off the shore. It is usually called San Felice, from +the small town seated upon it. This was the ancient abode of +the "daughter of the sun," and here were imprisoned, according +to Homer, the champions of Ulysses, after their metamorphoses. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">375</a></span></p> + +<p>From Terracina to Fondi, we followed the old Appian way, a +road hedged with flowering myrtles and orange trees laden with +fruit. Fondi itself is dirtier than imagination could picture it, +and the scowling men in the streets look like myrmidons of Fra +Diavolo, their celebrated countryman. This town, however, was +the scene of the romantic story of the beautiful Julia Gonzaga, +and was destroyed by the corsair Barbarossa, who had intended to +present the rarest beauty of Italy to the Sultan. It was to the +rocky mountains above the town that she escaped in her night-dress, +and lay concealed till the pirate's departure.</p> + +<p>In leaving Fondi, we passed the ruined walls of a garden said +to have belonged to Cicero, whose tomb is only three leagues +distant. Night came on before we reached the tomb, and we +were compelled to promise ourselves a pilgrimage to it on our +return.</p> + +<p>We slept at Mola, and here Cicero was assassinated. The +ruins of his country-house are still here. The town lies in the +lap of a graceful bay, and in all Italy, it is said, there is no spot +more favored by nature. The mountains shelter it from the +winds of the north; the soil produces, spontaneously, the orange, +the myrtle, the olive, delicious grapes, jasmine, and many odoriferous +herbs. This and its neighborhood was called, by the +great orator and statesman who selected it for his retreat, "the +most beautiful patrimony of the Romans." The Mediterranean +spreads out from its bosom, the lovely islands near Naples bound +its view, Vesuvius sends up its smoke and fire in the south, and +back from its hills stretches a country fertile and beautiful as a +paradise. This is a place of great resort for the English and +other travellers in the summer. The old palaces are turned into +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">376</a></span> +hotels, and we entered our inn through an avenue of shrubs that +must have been planted and trimmed for a century.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>We left Mola before dawn and crossed the small river Garigliano +as the sun rose. A short distance from the southern bank, +we found ourselves in the midst of ruins, the golden beams of the +sun pouring upon us through the arches of some once magnificent +structure, whose area is now crossed by the road. This was the +ancient Minturna, and the ruins are those of an amphitheatre, +and a temple of Venus. Some say that it was in the marshes +about the now waste city, that the soldier sent by Sylla to kill +Marius, found the old hero, and, struck with his noble mien, fell +with respect at his feet.</p> + +<p>The road soon enters a chain of hills, and the scenery becomes +enchanting. At the left of the first ascent lies the Falernian +mount, whose wines are immortalized by Horace. It is a beautiful +hill, which throws round its shoulder to the south, and is +covered with vineyards. I dismounted and walked on while the +horses breathed at the post-house of St. Agatha, and was overtaken +by a good-natured-looking man, mounted on a mule, of +whom I made some inquiry respecting the modern Falernian. +He said it was still the best wine of the neighborhood, but was +far below its ancient reputation, because never kept long enough +to ripen. It is at its prime from the fifteenth to the twentieth +year, and is usually drank the first or second. My new acquaintance, +I soon found, was the physician of the two or three small +villages nested about among the hills and a man of some pretensions +to learning. I was delighted with his frank good-humor, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">377</a></span> +and a certain spice of drollery in his description of his patients. +The peasants at work in the fields saluted him from any distance +as he passed; and the pretty contadini going to St. Agatha with +their baskets on their heads, smiled as he nodded, calling them all +by name, and I was rather amused than offended with the inquisitiveness +he manifested about my age, family, pursuits, and even +morals. His mule stopped of its own will, at the door of the +apothecary of the small village on the summit of the hill, and as +the carriage came in sight the doctor invited me, seizing my hand +with a look of friendly sincerity, to stop at St. Agatha on my +return, to shoot, and drink Falernian with him for a month. +The apothecary stopped the vetturino at the door; and, to the +astonishment of my companions within, the doctor seized me in +his arms and kissed me on both sides of my face with a volume +of blessings and compliments, which I had no breath in my surprise +to return. I have made many friends on the road in this +country of quick feelings, but the doctor of St. Agatha had a +readiness of sympathy which threw all my former experience into +the shade.</p> + +<p>We dined at Capua, the city whose luxuries enervated Hannibal +and his soldiers—the "<i>dives, amorosa, felix</i>" Capua. It is +in melancholy contrast with the description now—its streets +filthy, and its people looking the antipodes of luxury. The +climate should be the same, as we dined with open doors, and +with the branch of an orange tree heavy with fruit hanging in at +the window, in a month that with us is one of the wintriest.</p> + +<p>From Capua to Naples, the distance is but fifteen miles, over +a flat, uninteresting country. We entered "this third city in the +world" in the middle of the afternoon, and were immediately surrounded +with beggars of every conceivable degree of misery. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">378</a></span> +We sat an hour at the gate while our passports were recorded, +and the vetturino examined, and then passing up a noble street, +entered a dense crowd, through which was creeping slowly a +double line of carriages. The mounted dragoons compelled our +postillion to fall into the line, and we were two hours following in +a fashionable corso with our mud-spattered vehicle and tired +horses, surrounded by all that was brilliant and gay in Naples. +It was the last day of carnival. Everybody was abroad, and we +were forced, however unwillingly to see all the rank and beauty +of the city. The carriages in this fine climate are all open, and +the ladies were in full dress. As we entered the Toledo, the +cavalcade came to a halt, and with hats off and handkerchiefs +flying in every direction about them, the young new-married +Queen of Naples rode up the middle of the street preceded and +followed by outriders in the gayest livery. She has been married +about a month, is but seventeen, and is acknowledged to be +the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. The description I +had heard of her, though very extravagant, had hardly done her +justice. She is a little above the middle height, with a fine lift +to her head and neck, and a countenance only less modest and +maidenly than noble. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LV.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +ROME—FRONT OF ST. PETER'S—EQUIPAGES OF THE CARDINALS—BEGGARS—BODY +OF THE CHURCH—TOMB OF ST. PETER—THE +TIBER—FORTRESS-TOMB OF ADRIAN—JEWS' QUARTER—FORUM +BARBERINI PALACE—PORTRAIT OF BEATRICE CENCI—HER +MELANCHOLY HISTORY—PICTURE OF THE FORNARINA—LIKENESS +OF GIORGIONE'S MISTRESS—JOSEPH AND POTIPHAR'S +WIFE—THE PALACES DORIA AND SCIARRA—PORTRAIT OF +OLIVIA WALDACHINI—OF "A CELEBRATED WIDOW"—OF +SEMIRAMIS—CLAUDE'S LANDSCAPES—BRILL'S—BRUGHEL'S—NOTTI'S +"WOMAN CATCHING FLEAS"—DA VINCI'S QUEEN +GIOVANNA—PORTRAIT OF A FEMALE DORIA—PRINCE DORIA—PALACE +SCIARRA—BRILL AND BOTH'S LANDSCAPES—CLAUDE'S—PICTURE +OF NOAH INTOXICATED—ROMANA'S FORNARINA—DA +VINCI'S TWO PICTURES.</p> + +<p>Drawn in twenty different directions on starting from my +lodgings this morning, I found myself, undecided where to pass +my day, in front of St. Peter's. Some gorgeous ceremony was +just over, and the sumptuous equipages of the cardinals, blazing +in the sun with their mountings of gold and silver, were driving +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">380</a></span> +up and dashing away from the end of the long colonnades, producing +any effect upon the mind rather than a devout one. I +stood admiring their fiery horses and gay liveries, till the last +rattled from the square, and then mounted to the deserted +church. Its vast vestibule was filled with beggars, diseased in +every conceivable manner, halting, groping, and crawling about +in search of strangers of whom to implore charity—a contrast to +the splendid pavement beneath and the gold and marble above +and around, which would reconcile one to see the "mighty +dome" melted into alms, and his holiness reduced to a plain +chapel and a rusty cassock.</p> + +<p>Lifting the curtain I stood in the body of the church. There +were perhaps twenty persons, at different distances, on its immense +floor, the farthest off (<i>six hundred and fourteen feet from +me!</i>) looking like a pigmy in the far perspective. St. Peter's is +less like a church than a collection of large churches enclosed +under a gigantic roof. The chapels at the sides are larger than +most houses of public worship in our country, and of these there +may be eight or ten, not included in the effect of the vast interior. +One is lost in it. It is a city of columns and sculpture +and mosaic. Its walls are encrusted with precious stones and +masterly workmanship to the very top, and its wealth may be +conceived when you remember that, standing in the centre and +raising your eyes aloft, there are <i>four hundred and forty feet</i> between +you and the roof of the dome—the height, almost of a +mountain.</p> + +<p>I walked up toward the tomb of St. Peter, passing in my way +a solitary worshipper here and there, upon his knees, and arrested +constantly by the exquisite beauty of the statuary with which the +columns are carved. Accustomed as we are in America, to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">381</a></span> +churches filled with pews, it is hardly possible to imagine the +noble effect of a vast mosaic floor, unencumbered even with a +chair, and only broken by a few prostrate figures, just specking +its wide area. All Catholic churches are without fixed seats, and +St. Peter's seems scarce measurable to the eye, it is so far and +clear, from one extremity to the other.</p> + +<p>I passed the hundred lamps burning over the tomb of St. +Peter, the lovely female statue (covered with a bronze drapery, +because its exquisite beauty was thought dangerous to the morality +of the young priests), reclining upon the tomb of Paul III., +the ethereal figures of Canova's geniuses weeping at the door of +the tomb of the Stuarts (where sleeps the pretender Charles +Edward), the thousand thousand rich and beautiful monuments +of art and taste crowding every corner of this wondrous church—I +passed them, I say, with the same lost and unexamining, unparticularizing +feeling which I cannot overcome in this place—a +mind borne quite off its feet and confused and overwhelmed with +the tide of astonishment—the one grand impression of the whole. +I dare say, a little more familiarity with St. Peter's will do away +the feeling, but I left the church, after two hours loitering in its +aisles, despairing, and scarce wishing to examine or make a note.</p> + +<p>Those beautiful fountains, moistening the air over the whole +area of the column encircled front!—and that tall Egyptian +pyramid, sending up its slender and perfect spire between! One +lingers about, and turns again and again to gaze around him, as +he leaves St. Peter's, in wonder and admiration.</p> + +<p>I crossed the Tiber, at the fortress-tomb of Adrian, and thridding +the long streets at the western end of Rome, passed through +the Jews' quarter, and entered the Forum. The sun lay warm +among the ruins of the great temples and columns of ancient +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">382</a></span> +Rome, and, seating myself on a fragment of an antique frieze, +near the noble arch of Septimius Severus, I gazed on the scene, +for the first time, by daylight. I had been in Rome, on my first +visit, during the full moon, and my impressions of the Forum +with this romantic enhancement were vivid in my memory. One +would think it enough to be upon the spot at any time, with +light to see it, but what with modern excavations, fresh banks of +earth, carts, boys playing at marbles, and wooden sentry-boxes, +and what with the Parisian promenade, made by the French +through the centre, the imagination is too disturbed and hindered +in daylight. The moon gives it all one covering of gray and +silver. The old columns stand up in all their solitary majesty, +wrecks of beauty and taste; silence leaves the fancy to find a +voice for itself; and from the palaces of the Cesars to the prisons +of the capitol, the whole train of emperors, senators, conspirators, +and citizens, are summoned with but half a thought and the +magic glass is filled with moving and re-animated Rome. There, +beneath those walls, on the right, in the Mamertine prisons, +perished Jugurtha (and there, too, were imprisoned St. Paul and +St. Peter), and opposite, upon the Palatine-hill, lived the mighty +masters of Rome, in the "palaces of the Cesars," and beneath +the majestic arch beyond, were led, as a seal of their slavery, the +captives from Jerusalem, and in these temples, whose ruins cast +their shadows at my feet, walked and discoursed Cicero and the +philosophers, Brutus and the patriots, Catiline and the conspirators, +Augustus and the scholars and poets, and the great stranger +in Rome, St. Paul, gazing at the false altars, and burning in his +heart to reveal to them the "unknown God." What men have +crossed the shadows of these very columns! and what thoughts, +that have moved the world, have been born beneath them! +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">383</a></span></p> + +<p>The Barberini palace contains three or four masterpieces of +painting. The most celebrated is the portrait of Beatrice Cenci, +by Guido. The melancholy and strange history of this beautiful +girl has been told in a variety of ways, and is probably familiar to +every reader. Guido saw her on her way to execution, and has +painted her as she was dressed, in the gray habit and head-dress +made by her own hands, and finished but an hour before she put +it on. There are engravings and copies of the picture all over +the world, but none that I have seen give any idea of the +excessive gentleness and serenity of the countenance. The eyes +retain traces of weeping, but the child-like mouth, the soft, girlish +lines of features that look as if they never had worn more than +the one expression of youthfulness and affection, are all in repose, +and the head is turned over the shoulder with as simple a sweetness +as if she had but looked back to say a good-night before +going to her chamber to sleep. She little looks like what she +was—one of the firmest and boldest spirits whose history is recorded. +After murdering her father for his fiendish attempts +upon her virtue, she endured every torture rather than disgrace +her family by confession, and was only moved from her constancy, +at last, by the agonies of her younger brother on the rack. Who +would read capabilities like these, in these heavenly and child-like +features?</p> + +<p>I have tried to purchase the life of the Cenci, in vain. A +bookseller told me to-day, that it was a forbidden book, on +account of its reflections upon the pope. Immense interest was +made for the poor girl, but, it is said, the papal treasury ran low, +and if she was pardoned, the large possessions of the Cenci family +could not have been confiscated.</p> + +<p>The gallery contains also, a delicious picture of the Fornarina +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">384</a></span> +by Raphael himself, and a portrait of Giorgione's mistress, as a +Carthaginian slave, the same head multiplied so often in his and +Titian's pictures. The original of the admirable picture of +Joseph and the wife of Potiphar, is also here. A copy of it is in +the gallery of Florence.</p> + +<p>I have passed a day between the two palaces Doria and Sciarra, +nearly opposite each other in the Corso at Rome. The first is an +immense gallery of perhaps a thousand pictures, distributed +through seven large halls, and four galleries encircling the court. +In the first four rooms I found nothing that struck me particularly. +In the fifth was a portrait, by an unknown artist, of Olivia +Waldachini, the favorite and sister-in-law of Pope Innocent X., +a handsome woman, with that round fulness in the throat and +neck, which (whether it existed in the originals, or is a part of +a painter's ideal of a woman of pleasure), is universal in portraits +of that character. In the same room was a portrait of a "celebrated +widow," by Vandyck,<a name="FNanchor_7" id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> a had-been beautiful woman, in a +staid cap (the hands wonderfully painted), and a large and rich +picture of Semiramis, by one of the Carraccis.</p> + +<p>In the galleries hung the landscapes by Claude, famous through +the world. It is like roving through a paradise, to sit and look +at them. His broad green lawns, his half-hidden temples, his +life-like luxuriant trees, his fountains, his sunny streams—all +flush into the eye like the bright opening of a Utopia, or some +dream over a description from Boccaccio. It is what Italy might +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">385</a></span> +be in a golden age—her ruins rebuilt into the transparent air, her +woods unprofaned, her people pastoral and refined, and every +valley a landscape of Arcadia. I can conceive no higher pleasure +for the imagination than to see a Claude in travelling through +Italy. It is finding a home for one's more visionary fancies—those +children of moonshine that one begets in a colder clime, +but scarce dares acknowledge till he has seen them under a more +congenial sky. More plainly, one does not know whether his +abstract imaginations of pastoral life and scenery are not ridiculous +and unreal, till he has seen one of these landscapes, and felt +<i>steeped</i>, if I may use such a word, in the very loveliness which +inspired the pencil of the painter. There he finds the pastures, +the groves, the fairy structures, the clear waters, the straying +groups, the whole delicious scenery, as bright as in his dreams, +and he feels as if he should bless the artist for the liberty to +acknowledge freely to himself the possibility of so beautiful a +world.</p> + +<p>We went on through the long galleries, going back again and +again to see the Claudes. In the third division of the gallery +were one or two small and bright landscapes, by Brill, that would +have enchanted us if seen elsewhere; and four strange pictures, +by Breughel, representing the four elements, by a kind of half-poetical, +half-supernatural landscapes, one of which had a very +lovely view of a distant village. Then there was the famous +picture of the "woman catching fleas" by Gherardodelle Notti, +a perfect piece of life. She stands close to a lamp, with a vessel +of hot water before her, and is just closing her thumb and finger +over a flea, which she has detected on the bosom of her dress. +Some eight or ten are boiling already in the water, and the +expression upon the girl's face is that of the most grave and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">386</a></span> +unconscious interest in her employment. Next to this amusing +picture hangs a portrait of Queen Giovanna, of Naples, by +Leonardo da Vinci, a copy of which I had seen, much prized, in +the possession of the archbishop of Torento. It scarce looks like +the talented and ambitious queen she was, but it does full justice +to her passion for amorous intrigue—a face full of the woman.</p> + +<p>The last picture we came to, was one not even mentioned in +the catalogue, an old portrait of one of the females of the Doria +family. It was a girl of eighteen, with a kind of face that in life +must have been extremely fascinating. While we were looking +at it, we heard a kind of gibbering laugh from the outer apartment, +and an old man in a cardinal's dress, dwarfish in size, and +with deformed and almost useless legs, came shuffling into the +gallery, supported by two priests. His features were imbecility +itself, rendered almost horrible by the contrast of the cardinal's +red cap. The <i>custode</i> took off his hat and bowed low, and the +old man gave us a half-bow and a long laugh in passing, and disappeared +at the end of the gallery. This was the Prince Doria, +the owner of the palace, and a cardinal of Rome! the sole +remaining representative of one of the most powerful and ambitious +families of Italy! There could not be a more affecting type +of the great "mistress of the world" herself. Her very children +have dwindled into idiots.</p> + +<p>We crossed the Corso to the <i>Palace Sciarra</i>. The collection +here is small, but choice. Half a dozen small but exquisite landscapes, +by Brill and Both, grace the second room. Here are also +three small Claudes, very, very beautiful. In the next room is a +finely-colored but most indecent picture of Noah intoxicated, by +Andrea Sacchi, and a portrait by Giulio Romano, of Raphael's +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">387</a></span> +celebrated Fornarina, to whose lovely face one becomes so +accustomed in Italy, that it seems like that of an acquaintance.</p> + +<p>In the last room are two of the most celebrated pictures in +Rome. The first is by Leonardo da Vinci, and represents +Vanity and Modesty, by two females standing together in conversation—one +a handsome, gay, volatile looking creature, covered +with ornaments, and listening unwillingly to what seems a +lecture from the other, upon her foibles. The face of the other +is a heavenly conception of woman—earnest, delicate, and lovely—the +idea one forms to himself, before intercourse with the +world, gives him a distaste for its purity. The moral lesson of +the picture is more forcible than language. The painter deserved +to have died, as he did, in the arms of an emperor.</p> + +<p>The other picture represents two gamblers cheating a youth, a +very striking picture of nature. It is common from the engravings. +On the opposite side of the room, is a very expressive picture, by +Schidone. On the ruins of an old tomb stands a skull, beneath +which is written—"<i>I, too, was of Arcadia</i>;" and, at a little +distance, gazing at it in attitudes of earnest reflection, stand two +shepherds, struck simultaneously with the moral. It is a poetical +thought, and wrought out with great truth and skill.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>Our eyes aching and our attention exhausted with pictures, we +drove from the Sciarra to the ruined palaces of the Cesars. +Here, on an eminence above the Tiber, with the Forum beneath +us on one side, the Coliseum on the other, and all the towers and +spires of modern and Catholic Rome arising on her many hills +beyond, we seated ourselves on fragments of marble, half buried +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">388</a></span> +in the grass, and mused away the hours till sunset. On this spot +Romulus founded Rome. The princely Augustus, in the last +days of her glory, laid here the foundations of his imperial palace, +which, continued by Caligula and Tiberius, and completed by +Domitian, covered the hill, like a small city. It was a labyrinth +of temples, baths, pavilions, fountains, and gardens, with a large +theatre at the western extremity; and adjoining the temple of +Apollo, was a library filled with the best authors, and ornamented +with a colossal bronze statue of Apollo, "of excellent Etruscan +workmanship." "Statues of the fifty daughters of Danaus Siuramdert +surrounded the portico" (of this same temple), "and +opposite them were equestrian statues of their husbands." About +a hundred years ago, accident discovered, in the gardens buried +in rubbish, a magnificent hall, two hundred feet in length and +one hundred and thirty-two in breadth, supposed to have been +built by Domitian. It was richly ornamented with statues, and +columns of precious marbles, and near it were baths in excellent +preservation. "But," says Stark, "immense and superb as was +this first-built palace of the Cesars, Nero, whose extravagance +and passion for architecture knew no limits, thought it much too +small for him, and extended its edifices and gardens from the +Palatine to the Esquiline. After the destruction of the whole, +by fire, sixty-five years after Christ, he added to it his celebrated +'Golden House,' which extended from one extremity to the other +of the Cœlian Hill."<a name="FNanchor_8" id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></p> + +<p>The ancient walls, which made the whole of the Mount Palatine +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">389</a></span> +a fortress, still hold together its earth and its ruins. It is a broad +tabular eminence, worn into footpaths which wind at every moment +around broken shafts of marble, fragments of statuary, or broken +and ivy-covered fountains. Part of it is cultivated as a vineyard, +by the degenerate modern Romans, and the baths, into which the +water still pours from aqueducts encrusted with aged stalactites +are public washing-places for the contadini, eight or ten of whom +were splashing away in their red jackets, with gold bodkins in +their hair, while we were moralizing on their worthier progenitors +of eighteen centuries ago. It is a beautiful spot of itself, and +with the delicious soft sunshine of an Italian spring, the tall green +grass beneath our feet, and an air as soft as June just stirring +the myrtles and jasmines, growing wild wherever the ruins gave +them place, our enjoyment of the overpowering associations of +the spot was ample and untroubled. I could wish every refined +spirit in the world had shared our pleasant hour upon the Palatine. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LVI.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +ANNUAL DOWRIES TO TWELVE GIRLS—VESPERS IN THE CONVENT +OF SANTA TRINITA—RUINS OF ROMAN BATHS—A MAGNIFICENT +MODERN CHURCH WITHIN TWO ANCIENT HALLS—GARDENS OF +MECÆNAS—TOWER WHENCE NERO SAW ROME ON FIRE—HOUSES +OF HORACE AND VIRGIL—BATHS OF TITUS AND CARACALLA.</p> + +<p>The yearly ceremony of giving dowries to twelve girls, was +performed by the Pope, this morning, in the church built over +the ancient temple of Minerva. His Holiness arrived, in state, +from the Vatican, at ten, followed by his red troop of cardinals, +and preceded by a clerical courier, on a palfrey, and the body-guard +of nobles. He blessed the crowd, right and left, with his +three fingers (precisely as a Parisian dandy salutes his friend +across the street), and, descending from his carriage (which is +like a good-sized glass boudoir upon wheels), he was received in +the papal sedan, and carried into the church by his Swiss bearers. +My legation button carried me through the guard, and I found +an excellent place under a cardinal's wing, in the penetralia +within the railing of the altar. Mass commenced presently, with +a chant from the celebrated choir of St. Peter's. Room was +then made through the crowd, the cardinals put on their red +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">391</a></span> +caps, and the small procession of twelve young girls entered from +a side chapel, bearing each a taper in her hand, and robed to the +eyes in white, with a chaplet of flowers round the forehead. I +could form no judgment of anything but their eyes and feet. A +Roman eye could not be otherwise than fine, and a Roman +woman's foot could scarce be other than ugly, and, consequently, +there was but one satin slipper in the group that a man might +not have worn, and every eye I could see from my position, +might have graced an improvisatrice. They stopped in front of +the throne, and, giving their long tapers to the servitors, mounted +in couples, hand in hand, and kissed the foot of his Holiness, who, +at the same time, leaned over and blessed them, and then turning +about, walked off again behind the altar in the same order in which +they had entered.</p> + +<p>The choir now struck up their half-unearthly chant (a music +so strangely shrill and clear, that I scarce know whether the +sensation is pleasure or pain), the Pope was led from his throne +to his sedan, and his mitre changed for a richly jewelled crown, +the bearers lifted their burden, the guard presented arms, the +cardinals summoned their officious servants to unrobe, and the +crowd poured out as it came.</p> + +<p>This ceremony, I found upon inquiry, is performed every +year, <i>on the day of the annunciation</i>—just nine months before +Christmas, and is intended to commemorate the incarnation of +our Saviour.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>As I was returning from a twilight stroll upon the Pincian hill +this evening, the bells of the convent of Santa Trinita rung to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">392</a></span> +vespers. I had heard of the singing of the nuns in the service at +the convent chapel, but the misbehavior of a party of English +had excluded foreigners, of late, and it was thought impossible to +get admittance. I mounted the steps, however, and rung at the +door. It was opened by a pale nun, of thirty, who hesitated a +moment, and let me pass. In a small, plain chapel within, the +service of the altar was just commencing, and, before I reached +a seat, a low plaintive chant commenced, in female voices from +the choir. It went on with occasional interruptions from the +prayers, for perhaps an hour. I can not describe the excessive +mournfulness of the music. One or two familiar hymns occurred +in the course of it, like airs in a recitative, the same sung in our +churches, but the effect was totally different. The neat, white +caps of the nuns were just visible over the railing before the +organ, and, as I looked up at them and listened to their melancholy +notes, they seemed, to me, mourning over their exclusion +from the world. The small white cloud from the censer mounted +to the ceiling, and creeping away through the arches, hung over +the organ till it was lost to the eye in the dimness of the twilight. +It was easy, under the influence of their delightful music, to +imagine within it the wings of that tranquilizing resignation, one +would think so necessary to keep down the heart in these lonely +cloisters.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>The most considerable ruins of ancient Rome are those of the +<i>Baths</i>. The Emperors Titus, Caracalla, Nero, and Agrippa, +constructed these immense places of luxury, and the remains of +them are among the most interesting and beautiful relics to be +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">393</a></span> +found in the world. It is possible that my readers have as imperfect +an idea of the extent of a Roman bath as I have had, +and I may as well quote from the information given by writers on +antiquities. "They were open every day, to both sexes. In +each of the great baths, there were sixteen hundred seats of marble, +for the convenience of the bathers, and three thousand two +hundred persons could bathe at the same time. There were +splendid porticoes in front for promenade, arcades with shops, in +which was found every kind of luxury for the bath, and halls for +corporeal exercises, and for the discussion of philosophy; and +here the poets read their productions and rhetoricians harangued, +and sculptors and painters exhibited their works to the public. +The baths were distributed into grand halls, with ceilings enormously +high and painted with admirable frescoes, supported on +columns of the rarest marble, and the basins were of oriental alabaster, +porphyry, and jasper. There were in the centre vast +reservoirs, for the swimmers, and crowds of slaves to attend gratuitously +upon all who should come."</p> + +<p>The baths of Diocletian (which I visited to-day), covered an +enormous space. They occupied seven years in building, and +were the work of <i>forty thousand Christian slaves, two thirds of +whom died of fatigue and misery</i>! Mounting one of the seven +hills of Rome, we come to some half-ruined arches, of enormous +size, extending a long distance, in the sides of which were built +two modern churches. One was the work of Michael Angelo, +and one of his happiest efforts. He has turned two of the ancient +halls into a magnificent church, in the shape of a Greek cross, +leaving in their places eight gigantic columns of granite. After +St. Peter's it is the most imposing church in Rome.</p> + +<p>We drove thence to the baths of Titus, passing the site of the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">394</a></span> +ancient gardens of Mecænas, in which still stands the tower from +which Nero beheld the conflagration of Rome. The houses of +Horace and Virgil communicated with this garden, but they are +now undistinguishable. We turned up from the Coliseum to the +left, and entered a gate leading to the baths of Titus. Five or +six immense arches presented their front to us, in a state of picturesque +ruin. We took a guide, and a long pole, with a lamp +at the extremity, and descended to the subterranean halls, to see +the still inimitable frescoes upon the ceilings. Passing through +vast apartments, to the ruined walls of which still clung, here +and there, pieces of the finely-colored stucco of the ancients, we +entered a suite of long galleries, some forty feet high, the arched +roofs of which were painted with the most exquisite art, in a kind +of fanciful border-work, enclosing figures and landscapes, in as +bright colors as if done yesterday. Farther on was the niche in +which was found the famous group of Laocoon, in a room belonging +to a subterranean palace of the emperor, communicating with +the baths. The Belvedere Meleager was also found here. The +imagination loses itself in attempting to conceive the splendor of +these under-ground palaces, blazing with artificial light, ornamented +with works of art, never equalled, and furnished with all +the luxury which an emperor of Rome, in the days when the +wealth of the world flowed into her treasury, could command for +his pleasure. How short life must have seemed to them, and +what a tenfold curse became death and the common ills of existence, +interrupting or taking away pleasures so varied and inexhaustible.</p> + +<p>These baths were built in the last great days of Rome, and +one reads the last stages of national corruption and, perhaps, the +secret of her fall, in the character of these ornamented walls. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">395</a></span> +They breathe the very spirit of voluptuousness. Naked female +figures fill every plafond, and fauns and satyrs, with the most +licentious passions in their faces, support the festoons and hold +together the intricate ornament of the frescoes. The statues, +the pictures, the object of the place itself, inspired the wish for +indulgence, and the history of the private lives of the emperors +and wealthier Romans shows the effect in its deepest colors.</p> + +<p>We went on to the baths of Caracalla, the largest ruins of +Rome. They are just below the palaces of the Cesars, and ten +minutes' walk from the Coliseum. It is one labyrinth of gigantic +arches and ruined halls, the ivy growing and clinging wherever it +can fasten its root, and the whole as fine a picture of decay as +imagination could create. This was the favorite haunt of Shelley, +and here he wrote his fine tragedy of Prometheus. He +could not have selected a more fitting spot for solitary thought. +A herd of goats were climbing over one of the walls, and the +idle boy who tended them lay asleep in the sun, and every footstep +echoed loud through the place. We passed two or three +hours rambling about, and regained the populous streets of Rome +in the last light of the sunset. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LVII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +SUMMER WEATHER IN MARCH—BATHS OF CARACALLA—BEGINNING +OF THE APPIAN WAY—TOMB OF THE SCIPIOS—CATACOMBS—CHURCH +OF SAN SEBASTIANO—YOUNG CAPUCHIN FRIAR—TOMBS +OF THE EARLY CHRISTIAN MARTYRS—CHAMBER WHERE +THE APOSTLES WORSHIPPED—TOMB OF CECILIA METELLA—THE +CAMPAGNA—CIRCUS OF CARACALLA OR ROMULUS—TEMPLE +DEDICATED TO RIDICULE—KEATS'S GRAVE—FOUNTAIN OF EGERIA—THE +WOOD WHERE NUMA MET THE NYMPH—HOLY WEEK.</p> + +<p>The last days of March have come, clothed in sunshine and +summer. The grass is tall in the Campagna, the fruit-trees +are in blossom, the roses and myrtles are in full flower, the +shrubs are in full leaf, the whole country about breathes of June. +We left Rome this morning on an excursion to the "Fountain +of Egeria." A more heavenly day never broke. The gigantic +baths of Caracalla turned us aside once more, and we stopped +for an hour in the shade of their romantic arches, admiring +the works, while we execrated the character of their ferocious +builder.</p> + +<p>This is the beginning of the ancient Appian Way, and, a little +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">397</a></span> +farther on, sunk in the side of a hill near the road, is the beautiful +doric tomb of the Scipios. We alighted at the antique gate, +a kind of portico, with seats of stone beneath, and reading the +inscription, "<i>Sepulchro degli Scipioni</i>" mounted by ruined +steps to the tomb. A boy came out from the house, in the vineyard +above, with candles, to show us the interior, but, having no +curiosity to see the damp cave from which the sarcophagi have +been removed (to the museum), we sat down upon a bank of +grass opposite the chaste façade, and recalled to memory the +early-learnt history of the family once entombed within. The +edifice (for it is more like a temple to a river-nymph or a dryad +than a tomb) was built by an ancestor of the great Scipio Africanus, +and here was deposited the noble dust of his children. +One feels, in these places, as if the improvisatore's inspiration +was about him—the fancy draws, in such vivid colors, the scenes +that have passed where he is standing. The bringing of the +dead body of the conqueror of Africa from Rome, the passing of +the funeral train beneath the portico, the noble mourners, the +crowd of people, the eulogy of perhaps some poet or orator, +whose name has descended to us—the air seems to speak, and +the gray stones of the monument against which the mourners of +the Scipios have leaned, seem to have had life and thought, like +the ashes they have sheltered.</p> + +<p>We drove on to the <i>Catacombs</i>. Here, the legend says, St. +Sebastian was martyred and the modern church of St. Sebastiano +stands over the spot. We entered the church, where we +found a very handsome young capuchin friar, with his brown +cowl and the white cord about his waist, who offered to conduct +us to the catacombs. He took three wax-lights from the sacristy, +and we entered a side door, behind the tomb of the saint, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">398</a></span> +and commenced a descent of a long flight of stone steps. We +reached the bottom and found ourselves upon damp ground, following +a narrow passage, so low that I was compelled constantly +to stoop, in the sides of which were numerous small niches of the +size of a human body. These were the tombs of the early Christian +martyrs. We saw near a hundred of them. They were +brought from Rome, the scene of their sufferings, and buried in +these secret catacombs by the small church of, perhaps, the immediate +converts of St. Paul and the apostles. What food for +thought is here, for one who finds more interest in the humble +traces of the personal followers of Christ, who knew his face and +had heard his voice, to all the splendid ruins of the works of the +persecuting emperors of his time! Most of the bones have been +taken from their places, and are preserved at the museum, or +enclosed in the rich sarcophagi raised to the memory of the martyrs +in the Catholic churches. Of those that are left we saw one. +The niche was closed by a thin slab of marble, through a crack +of which the monk put his slender candle. We saw the skeleton +as it had fallen from the flesh in decay, untouched, perhaps, since +the time of Christ.</p> + +<p>We crossed through several cross-passages, and came to a +small chamber, excavated simply in the earth, with an earthern +altar, and an antique marble cross above. This was the scene +of the forbidden worship of the early Christians, and before this +very cross, which was, perhaps, then newly selected as the emblem +of their faith, met the few dismayed followers of Christ, +hidden from their persecutors, while they breathed their forbidden +prayers to their lately crucified Master.</p> + +<p>We reascended to the light of day by the rough stone steps, +worn deep by the feet of those who, for ages, for so many different +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">399</a></span> +reasons, have passed up and down; and, taking leave of our +capuchin conductor, drove on to the next object upon the road—the +<i>tomb of Cecilia Metella</i>. It stands upon a slight elevation, +in the Appian Way, a "stern round tower," with the ivy dropping +over its turrets and waving from the embrasures, looking +more like a castle than a tomb. Here was buried "the wealthiest +Roman's wife," or, according to Corinne, his unmarried daughter. +It was turned into a fortress by the marauding nobles of the thirteenth +century, who sallied from this and the tomb of Adrian, +plundering the ill-defended subjects of Pope Innocent IV. till +they were taken and hanged from the walls by Brancaleone, the +Roman senator. It is built with prodigious strength. We +stooped in passing under the low archway, and emerged into the +round chamber within, a lofty room, open to the sky, in the circular +wall of which there is a niche for a single body. Nothing +could exceed the delicacy and fancy with which Childe Harold +muses on this spot.</p> + +<p>The lofty turrets command a wide view of the Campagna, the +long aqueducts stretching past at a short distance, and forming a +chain of noble arches from Rome to the mountains of Albano. +Cole's picture of the Roman Campagna, as seen from one of these +elevations, is, I think, one of the finest landscapes ever painted.</p> + +<p>Just below the tomb of Metella, in a flat valley, lie the extensive +ruins of what is called the "circus of Caracalla" by some, +and the "circus of Romulus" by others—a scarcely distinguishable +heap of walls and marble, half buried in the earth and moss; +and not far off stands a beautiful ruin of a small temple dedicated +(as some say) to <i>Ridicule</i>. One smiles to look at it. If the +embodying of that which is powerful, however, should make a +deity, the dedication of a temple to <i>ridicule</i> is far from amiss. In +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">400</a></span> +our age particularly, one would think, the lamp should be relit, +and the reviewers should repair the temple. Poor Keats sleeps +in his grave scarce a mile from the spot, a human victim sacrificed, +not long ago, upon its highest altar.</p> + +<p>In the same valley almost hidden with the luxuriant ivy waving +before the entrance, flows the lovely <i>Fountain of Egeria</i>, +trickling as clear and musical into its pebbly bed as when visited +by the enamored successor of Romulus twenty-five centuries ago! +The hill above leans upon the single arch of the small temple +which embosoms it, and the green soft meadow spreads away +from the floor, with the brightest verdure conceivable. We +wound around by a half-worn path in descending the hill, and, +putting aside the long branches of ivy, entered an antique chamber, +sprinkled with quivering spots of sunshine, at the extremity +of which, upon a kind of altar, lay the broken and defaced statue +of the nymph. The fountain poured from beneath in two +streams as clear as crystal. In the sides of the temple were six +empty niches, through one of which stole, from a cleft in the +wall, a little stream, which wandered from its way. Flowers, +pale with growing in the shade, sprang from the edges of the +rivulet as it found its way out, the small creepers, dripping with +moisture, hung out from between the diamond-shaped stones +of the roof, the air was refreshingly cool, and the leafy door +at the entrance, seen against the sky, looked of a transparent +green, as vivid as emerald. No fancy could create a sweeter +spot. The fountain and the inspiration it breathed into Childe +Harold are worthy of each other.</p> + +<p>Just above the fountain, on the crest of a hill, stands a thick +grove, supposed to occupy the place of the consecrated wood, in +which Numa met the nymph. It is dark with shadow, and full +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">401</a></span> +of birds, and might afford a fitting retreat for meditation to another +king and lawgiver. The fields about it are so thickly studded +with flowers, that you cannot step without crushing them, +and the whole neighborhood seems a favorite of nature. The +rich banker, Torlonia, has bought this and several other classic +spots about Rome—possessions for which he is more to be envied +than for his purchased dukedom.</p> + +<p>All the travelling world assembles at Rome for the ceremonies +of the holy week. Naples, Florence, and Pisa, send their hundreds +of annual visitors, and the hotels and palaces are crowded +with strangers of every nation and rank. It would be difficult to +imagine a gayer or busier place than this usually sombre city has +become within a few days. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LVIII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +PALM SUNDAY—SISTINE CHAPEL—ENTRANCE OF THE POPE—THE +CHOIR—THE POPE ON HIS THRONE—PRESENTING THE +PALMS—PROCESSION—BISHOP ENGLAND'S LECTURE—HOLY +TUESDAY—THE MISERERE—ACCIDENTS IN THE CROWD—TENEBRÆ—THE +EMBLEMATIC CANDLES—HOLY THURSDAY—FRESCOES +OF MICHAEL ANGELO—"CREATION OF EVE"—"LOT +INTOXICATED"—DELPHIC SYBIL—POPE WASHING PILGRIMS' +FEET—STRIKING RESEMBLANCE OF ONE TO JUDAS—POPE AND +CARDINALS WAITING UPON PILGRIMS AT DINNER.</p> + +<p>Palm Sunday opens the ceremonies. We drove to the Vatican +this morning, at nine, and, after waiting a half hour in the +crush, kept back, at the point of the spear, by the Pope's Swiss +guard, I succeeded in getting an entrance into the Sistine chapel. +Leaving the ladies of the party behind the grate, I passed two +more guards, and obtained a seat among the cowled and bearded +dignitaries of the church and state within, where I could observe +the ceremony with ease.</p> + +<p>The Pope entered, borne in his gilded chair by twelve men, +and, at the same moment, the chanting from the Sistine choir +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">403</a></span> +commenced with one long, piercing note, by a single voice, producing +the most impressive effect. He mounted his throne as +high as the altar opposite him, and the cardinals went through +their obeisances, one by one, their trains supported by their servants, +who knelt on the lower steps behind them. The palms +stood in a tall heap beside the altar. They were beautifully +woven in wands of perhaps six feet in length, with a cross at the +top. The cardinal nearest the papal chair mounted first, and a +palm was handed him. He laid it across the knees of the Pope, +and, as his holiness signed the cross upon it, he stooped, and +kissed the embroidered cross upon his foot, then kissed the palm, +and taking it in his two hands, descended with it to his seat. +The other forty or fifty cardinals did the same, until each was +provided with a palm. Some twenty other persons, monks of +apparent clerical rank of every order, military men, and members +of the Catholic embassies, followed and took palms. A procession +was then formed, the cardinals going first with their +palms held before them, and the Pope following, in his chair, +with a small frame of palmwork in his hands, in which was woven +the initial of the Virgin. They passed out of the Sistine chapel, +the choir chanting most delightfully, and, having made a tour +around the vestibule, returned in the same order.</p> + +<p>The ceremony is intended to represent the entrance of the +Saviour into Jerusalem. Bishop England, of Charleston, South +Carolina, delivered a lecture at the house of the English cardinal +Weld, a day or two ago, explanatory of the ceremonies of the +Holy week. It was principally an apology for them. He confessed +that, to the educated, they appeared empty, and even +absurd rites, but they were intended not for the refined, but the +vulgar, whom it was necessary to instruct and impress through +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">404</a></span> +their outward senses. As nearly all these rites, however, take +place in the Sistine chapel, which no person is permitted to enter +who is not furnished with a ticket, and in full dress, his argument +rather fell to the ground.</p> + +<p>With all the vast crowd of strangers in Rome, I went to the +Sistine chapel on <i>Holy Tuesday</i>, to hear the far-famed <i>Miserere</i>. +It is sung several times during the holy week, by the Pope's +choir, and has been described by travellers, of all nations, in the +most rapturous terms. The vestibule was a scene of shocking +confusion, for an hour, a constant struggle going on between the +crowd and the Swiss guard, amounting occasionally to a fight, in +which ladies fainted, children screamed, men swore, and, unless +by force of contrast, the minds of the audience seemed likely to +be little in tune for the music. The chamberlains at last arrived, +and two thousand people attempted to get into a small chapel +which scarce holds four hundred. Coat-skirts, torn cassocks, +hats, gloves, and fragments of ladies' dresses, were thrown up by +the suffocating throng, and, in the midst of a confusion beyond +description, the mournful notes of the <i>tenebræ</i> (or lamentations of +Jeremiah) poured in full volume from the choir. Thirteen candles +burned in a small pyramid within the paling of the altar, and +twelve of these, representing the apostles, were extinguished, one +by one (to signify their desertion at the cross), during the singing +of the <i>tenebræ</i>. The last, which was left burning, represented +the mother of Christ. As the last before this was extinguished, +the music ceased. The crowd had, by this time, become +quiet. The twilight had deepened through the dimly-lit chapel, +and the one solitary lamp looked lost at the distance of the altar. +Suddenly the <i>miserére</i> commenced with one high prolonged note, +that sounded like a wail; another joined it, and another and another, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">405</a></span> +and all the different parts came in, with a gradual swell of +plaintive and most thrilling harmony, to the full power of the +choir. It continued for perhaps half an hour. The music was +simple, running upon a few notes, like a dirge, but there were +voices in the choir that seemed of a really supernatural sweetness. +No instrument could be so clear. The crowd, even in +their uncomfortable positions, were breathless with attention, and +the effect was universal. It is really extraordinary music, and +if but half the rites of the Catholic church had its power over the +mind, a visit to Rome would have quite another influence.</p> + +<p>The candles were lit, and the motley troop of cardinals and +red-legged servitors passed out. The harlequin-looking Swiss +guard stood to their tall halberds, the chamberlains and mace-bearers, +in their cassock and frills, took care that the males and +females should not mix until they reached the door, the Pope +disappeared in the sacristy, and the gay world, kept an hour beyond +their time, went home to cold dinners.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>The ceremonies of <i>Holy Thursday</i> commenced with the mass +in the Sistine chapel. Tired of seeing genuflections, and listening +to a mumbling of which I could not catch a syllable, I took +advantage of my privileged seat, in the Ambassador's box, to +lean back and study the celebrated frescoes of Michael Angelo +upon the ceiling. A little drapery would do no harm to any of +them. They illustrate, mainly, passages of scripture history, but +the "creation of Eve," in the centre, is an astonishingly fine +representation of a naked man and woman, as large as life; and +"Lot intoxicated and exposed before his two daughters," is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">406</a></span> +about as immodest a picture, from its admirable expression as +well as its nudity, as could easily be drawn. In one corner there +is a most beautiful draped figure of the <i>Delphic Sybil</i>—and I +think this bit of heathenism is almost the only very decent part +of the Pope's most consecrated chapel.</p> + +<p>After the mass, the host was carried, with a showy procession, +to be deposited among the thousand lamps in the Capella Paolina, +and, as soon as it had passed, there was a general rush for the +room in which the Pope was to <i>wash the feet of the pilgrims</i>.</p> + +<p>Thirteen men, dressed in white, with sandals open at the top, +and caps of paper covered with white linen, sat on a high bench, +just under a beautiful copy of the last supper of Da Vinci, in +gobelin tapestry. It was a small chapel, communicating with +the Pope's private apartments. Eleven of the pilgrims were as +vulgar and brutal-looking men as could have been found in the +world; but of the two in the centre, one was the personification +of wild fanaticism. He was pale, emaciated, and abstracted. +His hair and beard were neglected, and of a singular blackness. +His lips were firmly set in an expression of severity. His brows +were gathered gloomily over his eyes, and his glances, occasionally +sent among the crowd, were as glaring and flashing as a +tiger's. With all this, his countenance was lofty, and if I had +seen the face on canvas, as a portrait of a martyr, I should have +thought it finely expressive of courage and devotion. The man +on his left wept, or pretended to weep, continually; but every +person in the room was struck with his extraordinary resemblance +to <i>Judas</i>, as he is drawn in the famous picture of the Last Supper. +It was the same marked face, the same treacherous, ruffian look, +the same style of hair and beard, to a wonder. It is possible +that he might have been chosen on purpose, the twelve pilgrims +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">407</a></span> +being intended to represent the twelve apostles of whom Judas +was one—but if accidental, it was the most remarkable coincidence +that ever came under my notice. He looked the hypocrite +and traitor complete, and his resemblance to the Judas in the +picture directly over his head, would have struck a child.</p> + +<p>The Pope soon entered from his apartments, in a purple stole, +with a cape of dark crimson satin, and the mitre of silver-cloth, +and, casting the incense into the golden censer, the white smoke +was flung from side to side before him, till the delightful odor +filled the room. A short service was then chanted, and the choir +sang a hymn. His Holiness was then unrobed, and a fine napkin, +trimmed with lace, was tied about him by the servitors, and with +a deacon before him, bearing a splendid pitcher and basin, and a +procession behind him, with large bunches of flowers, he crossed +to the pilgrims' bench. A priest, in a snow-white tunic, raised +and bared the foot of the first. The Pope knelt, took water in +his hand, and slightly rubbed the instep, and then drying it well +with a napkin, he kissed it.</p> + +<p>The assistant-deacon gave a large bunch of flowers and a napkin +to the pilgrim, as the Pope left him, and another person in rich +garments, followed, with pieces of money presented in a wrapper +of white paper. The same ceremony took place with each—one +foot only being honored with a lavation. When his Holiness +arrived at the "Judas," there was a general stir, and every one +was on tip-toe to watch his countenance. He took his handkerchief +from his eyes, and looked at the Pope very earnestly, and +when the ceremony was finished, he seized the sacred hand, and, +imprinting a kiss upon it, flung himself back, and buried his face +again in his handkerchief, quite overwhelmed with his feelings. +The other pilgrims took it very coolly, comparatively, and one +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">408</a></span> +of them seemed rather amused than edified. The Pope returned +to his throne, and water was poured over his hands. A cardinal +gave him a napkin, his splendid cape was put again over his +shoulders, and, with a paternoster the ceremony was over.</p> + +<p>Half an hour after, with much crowding and several losses of +foothold and temper, I had secured a place in the hall where the +apostles, as the pilgrims are called after the washing, were to +dine, waited on by the Pope and cardinals. With their gloomy +faces and ghastly white caps and white dresses, they looked more +like criminals waiting for execution, than guests at a feast. They +stood while the Pope went round with a gold pitcher and basin, +to wash their hands, and then seating themselves, his Holiness, +with a good-natured smile, gave each a dish of soup, and said +something in his ear, which had the effect of putting him at his +ease. The table was magnificently set out with the plate and +provisions of a prince's table, and spite of the thousands of eyes +gazing on them, the pilgrims were soon deep in the delicacies of +every dish, even the lachrymose Judas himself, eating most voraciously. +We left them at their dessert. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LIX.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +SEPULCHRE OF CAIUS CESTIUS—PROTESTANT BURYING GROUND—GRAVES +OF KEATS AND SHELLEY—SHELLEY'S LAMENT OVER +KEATS—GRAVES OF TWO AMERICANS—BEAUTY OF THE BURIAL +PLACE—MONUMENTS OVER TWO INTERESTING YOUNG FEMALES—INSCRIPTION +ON KEATS' MONUMENT—THE STYLE OF KEATS' +POEMS—GRAVE OF DR. BELL—RESIDENCE AND LITERARY +UNDERTAKINGS OF HIS WIDOW.</p> + +<p>A beautiful pyramid, a hundred and thirteen feet high, built +into the ancient wall of Rome, is the proud <i>Sepulchre of Caius +Cestius</i>. It is the most imperishable of the antiquities, standing +as perfect after eighteen hundred years as if it were built but +yesterday. Just beyond it, on the declivity of a hill, over the +ridge of which the wall passes, crowning it with two mouldering +towers, lies the <i>Protestant burying-ground</i>. It looks toward +Rome, which appears in the distance, between Mount Aventine +and a small hill called Mont Testaccio, and leaning to the southeast, +the sun lies warm and soft upon its banks, and the grass +and wild flowers are there the earliest and tallest of the Campagna. +I have been here to-day, to see the graves of <i>Keats and</i> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">410</a></span> +<i>Shelley</i>. With a cloudless sky and the most delicious air ever +breathed, we sat down upon the marble slab laid over the ashes +of poor Shelley, and read his own lament over Keats, who sleeps +just below, at the foot of the hill. The cemetery is rudely +formed into three terraces, with walks between, and Shelley's +grave and one other, without a name, occupy a small nook above, +made by the projections of a mouldering wall-tower, and crowded +with ivy and shrubs, and a peculiarly fragrant yellow flower, +which perfumes the air around for several feet. The avenue by +which you ascend from the gate is lined with high bushes of the +marsh-rose in the most luxuriant bloom, and all over the cemetery +the grass is thickly mingled with flowers of every die. In +his preface to his lament over Keats, Shelley says, "he was +buried in the romantic and lonely cemetery of the Protestants, +under the pyramid which is the tomb of Cestius, and the massy +walls and towers, now mouldering and desolate, which formed +the circuit of ancient Rome." It is an open space among the +ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. "<i>It might +make one in love with death, to think that one should be buried in +so sweet a place.</i>" If Shelley had chosen his own grave at the +time, he would have selected the very spot where he has since +been laid—the most sequestered and flowery nook of the place he +describes so feelingly. In the last verses of the elegy, he speaks +of it again with the same feeling of its beauty:— +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">411</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4"><span class="o1">"The spirit of the spot shall lead</span></p> +<p class="i1">Thy footsteps to a slope of green access,</p> +<p class="i1">Where, like an infant's smile, over the dead,</p> +<p>A light of laughing flowers along the grass is spread.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i1">"And gray walls moulder round, on which dull time</p> +<p class="i1">Feeds like slow fire upon a hoary brand:</p> +<p class="i1">And one keen pyramid, with wedge sublime,</p> +<p class="i1">Pavilioning the dust of him who planned</p> +<p class="i1">This refuge for his memory, doth stand</p> +<p class="i1">Like flame transformed to marble; and <i>beneath</i></p> +<p class="i1"><i>A field is spread, on which a newer band</i></p> +<p class="i1"><i>Have pitched, in heaven's smile, their camp of death</i>,</p> +<p>Welcoming him we lose, with scarce extinguished breath.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="o1">"Here pause: these graves are all <i>too young as yet</i></p> +<p class="i1"><i>To have outgrown the sorrow which consigned</i></p> +<p class="i1"><i>Its charge to each</i>."</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Shelley has left no poet behind, who could write so touchingly +of his burial-place in turn. He was, indeed, as they have graven +on his tombstone, "<i>cor cordium</i>"—the heart of hearts. Dreadfully +mistaken as he was in his principles, he was no less the soul +of genius than the model of a true heart and of pure intentions. +Let who will cast reproach upon his memory, I believe, for one, +that his errors were of the kind most venial in the eye of Heaven, +and I read, almost like a prophesy, the last lines of his elegy on +one he believed had gone before him to a happier world:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<p class="i1"><span class="o1">"Burning through the inmost veil of heaven,</span></p> +<p>The soul of Adonais, like a star,</p> +<p>Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are."</p> +</div> + +<p>On the second terrace of the declivity, are ten or twelve +graves, two of which bear the names of Americans who have died +in Rome. A portrait carved in bas-relief, upon one of the slabs, +told me, without the inscription, that one whom I had known was +buried beneath.<a name="FNanchor_9" id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> The slightly rising mound was covered with +small violets, half hidden by the grass. It takes away from the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">412</a></span> +pain with which one stands over the grave of an acquaintance or +a friend, to see the sun lying so warm upon it, and the flowers +springing so profusely and cheerfully. Nature seems to have +cared for those who have died so far from home, binding the +earth gently over them with grass, and decking it with the most +delicate flowers.</p> + +<p>A little to the left, on the same bank, is the new-made grave +of a very young man, Mr. Elliot. He came abroad for health, +and died at Rome, scarce two months since. Without being +disgusted with life, one feels, in a place like this, a certain +reconciliation, if I may so express it, with the thought of a +burial—an almost willingness, if his bed could be laid amid such +loveliness, to be brought and left here to his repose. Purely +imaginary as any difference in this circumstance is, it must, at +least, always affect the sick powerfully; and with the common +practice of sending the dying to Italy, as a last hope, I consider +the exquisite beauty of this place of burial, as more than a common +accident of happiness.</p> + +<p>Farther on, upon the same terrace, are two monuments that +interested me. One marks the grave of a young English girl,<a name="FNanchor_10" id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> +the pride of a noble family, and, as a sculptor told me, who had +often seen and admired her, a model of high-born beauty. She +was riding with a party on the banks of the Tiber, when her +horse became unmanageable, and backed into the river. She +sank instantly, and was swept so rapidly away by the current, +that her body was not found for many months. Her tombstone +is adorned with a bas-relief, representing an angel receiving her +from the waves. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">413</a></span></p> + +<p>The other is the grave of a young lady of twenty, who was at +the baths of Lucca, last summer, in pursuit of health. She died +at the first approach of winter. I had the melancholy pleasure +of knowing her slightly, and we used to meet her in the winding +path upon the bank of the romantic river Lima, at evening, +borne in a sedan, with her mother and sister walking at her side, +the fairest victim consumption ever seized. She had all the +peculiar beauty of the disease, the transparent complexion, and +the unnaturally bright eye, added to features cast in the clearest +and softest mould of female loveliness. She excited general +interest even among the gay and dissipated crowd of a watering +place; and if her sedan was missed in the evening promenade, +the inquiry for her was anxious and universal. She is buried in +a place that seems made for such as herself.</p> + +<p>We descended to the lower enclosure at the foot of the slight +declivity. The first grave here is that of <i>Keats</i>. The inscription +on his monument runs thus: "<i>This grave contains all that was +mortal of a young English poet, who, on his death-bed, in the bitterness +of his heart at the malicious power of his enemies, desired these +words to be engraved on his tomb</i>: <span class="s07">HERE LIES ONE WHOSE NAME +WAS WRITTEN IN WATER</span>." He died at Rome in 1821. Every +reader knows his history and the cause of his death. Shelley +says, in the preface to his elegy, "The savage criticism on his +poems, which appeared in the Quarterly Review, produced the +most violent effect on his susceptible mind; the agitation thus +originated ended in a rupture of a blood-vessel in the lungs; a +rapid consumption ensued, and the succeeding acknowledgments, +from more candid critics, of the true greatness of his powers, +were ineffectual to heal the wound thus wantonly inflicted." +Keats was, no doubt, a poet of very uncommon promise. He +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">414</a></span> +had all the wealth of genius within him, but he had not learned, +before he was killed by criticism, the received, and, therefore, +the best manner of producing it for the eye of the world. Had +he lived longer, the strength and richness which break continually +through the affected style of Endymion and Lamia and his other +poems, must have formed themselves into some noble monuments +of his powers. As it is, there is not a poet living who could surpass +the material of his "Endymion"—a poem, with all its faults, +far more full of beauties. But this is not the place for criticism. +He is buried fitly for a poet, and sleeps beyond criticism now. +Peace to his ashes!</p> + +<p>Close to the grave of Keats is that of Dr. Bell, the author of +"Observations on Italy." This estimable man, whose comments on +the fine arts are, perhaps, as judicious and high-toned as any ever +written, has left behind him, in Naples (where he practised his +profession for some years), a host of friends, who remember and +speak of him as few are remembered and spoken of in this +changing and crowded portion of the world. His widow, who +edited his works so ably and judiciously, lives still at Naples, and +is preparing just now a new edition of his book on Italy. Having +known her, and having heard from her own lips many particulars +of his life, I felt an additional interest in visiting his +grave. Both his monument and Keats's are almost buried in +the tall flowering clover of this beautiful place. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LX.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +PRESENTATION AT THE PAPAL COURT—PILGRIMS GOING TO +VESPERS—PERFORMANCE OF THE MISERERE—TARPEIAN ROCK—THE +FORUM—PALACE OF THE CESARS—COLISEUM.</p> + +<p>I have been presented to the Pope this morning, in company +with several Americans—Mr. and Mrs. Gray, of Boston, Mr. +Atherton and daughters, and Mr. Walsh of Philadelphia, and +Mr. Mayer of Baltimore. With the latter gentleman, I arrived +rather late, and found that the rest of the party had been already +received, and that his Holiness was giving audience, at the +moment, to some Russian ladies of rank. Bishop England, of +Charleston, however, was good enough to send in once more, +and, in the course of a few minutes, the chamberlain in waiting +announced to us that <i>Il Padre Santo</i> would receive us. The +ante-room was a picturesque and rather peculiar scene. Clusters +of priests, of different rank, were scattered about in the corners, +dressed in a variety of splendid costumes, white, crimson, and +ermine, one or two monks, with their picturesque beards and +flowing dresses of gray or brown, were standing near one of the +doors, in their habitually humble attitudes; two gentlemen mace-bearers +guarded the door of the entrance to the Pope's presence, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">416</a></span> +their silver batons under their arms, and their open breasted +cassocks covered with fine lace; the deep bend of the window was +occupied by the American party of ladies, in the required black +veils; and around the outer door stood the helmeted guard, a dozen +stout men-at-arms, forming a forcible contrast to the mild faces +and priestly company within.</p> + +<p>The mace-bearers lifted the curtain, and the Pope stood before +us, in a small plain room. The Irish priest who accompanied us +prostrated himself on the floor, and kissed the embroidered +slipper, and Bishop England hastily knelt and kissed his hand, +turning to present us as he rose. His Holiness smiled, and +stepped forward, with a gesture of his hand, as if to prevent our +kneeling, and, as the bishop mentioned our names, he looked at +us and nodded smilingly, but without speaking to us. Whether +he presumed we did not speak the language, or whether he +thought us too young to answer for ourselves, he confined his +inquiries about us entirely to the good bishop, leaving me, as I +wished, at leisure to study his features and manner. It was easy +to conceive that the father of the Catholic church stood before me, +but I could scarcely realize that it was a sovereign of Europe, and +the temporal monarch of millions. He was dressed in a long +vesture of snow-white flannel, buttoned together in front, with a +large crimson velvet cape over his shoulders, and band and tassels +of silver cloth hanging from beneath. A small white scull-cap +covered the crown of his head, and his hair, slightly grizzled, fell +straight toward a low forehead, expressive of good-nature merely. +A large emerald on his finger, and slippers wrought in gold, with +a cross on the instep, completed his dress. His face is heavily +moulded, but unmarked, and expressive mainly of sloth and +kindness; his nose is uncommonly large, rather pendant than +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">417</a></span> +prominent, and an incipient double chin, slightly hanging cheeks, +and eyes, over which the lids drop, as if in sleep, at the end of +every sentence, confirm the general impression of his presence—that +of an indolent and good old man. His inquiries were +principally of the Catholic church in Baltimore (mentioned by +the bishop as the city of Mr. Mayer's residence), of its processions, +its degree of state, and whether it was recognised by the +government. At the first pause in the conversation, his Holiness +smiled and bowed, the Irish priest prostrated himself again, and +kissed his foot, and, with a blessing from the father of the church, +we retired.</p> + +<p>On the evening of holy Thursday, as I was on my way to St. +Peter's to hear the <i>miserere</i> once more, I overtook the procession +of pilgrims going up to vespers. The men went first in couples, +following a cross, and escorted by gentlemen penitents covered +conveniently with sackcloth, their eyes peeping through two holes, +and their well-polished boots beneath, being the only indications +by which their penance could be betrayed to the world. The +pilgrims themselves, perhaps a hundred in all, were the dirtiest +collection of beggars imaginable, distinguished from the lazars in +the street, only by a long staff with a faded bunch of flowers +attached to it, and an oil-cloth cape stitched over with scallop-shells. +Behind came the female pilgrims, and these were led by +the first ladies of rank in Rome. It was really curious to see the +mixture of humility and pride. There were, perhaps, fifty ladies +of all ages, from sixteen to fifty, walking each between two filthy +old women who supported themselves by her arms, while near +them, on either side of the procession, followed their splendid +equipages, with numerous servants, in livery, on foot, as if to +contradict to the world their temporary degradation. The lady +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">418</a></span> +penitents, unlike the gentlemen, walked in their ordinary dress. +I had several acquaintances among them; and it was inconceivable, +to me, how the gay, thoughtless, fashionable creatures I had +met in the most luxurious drawing-rooms of Rome, could be +prevailed upon to become a part in such a ridiculous parade of +humility. The chief penitent, who carried a large, heavy crucifix +at the head of the procession, was the Princess ——, at whose +weekly soirees and balls assemble all that is gay and pleasure-loving +in Rome. Her two nieces, elegant girls of eighteen or +twenty, walked at her side, carrying lighted candles, of four or +five feet in length, in broad day-light, through the streets!</p> + +<p>The procession crept slowly up to the church, and I left them +kneeling at the tomb of St. Peter, and went to the side chapel, to +listen to the <i>miserere</i>. The choir here is said to be inferior to +that in the Sistine chapel, but the circumstances more than make +up for the difference, which, after all, it takes a nice ear to detect. +I could not but congratulate myself, as I sat down upon the base +of a pillar, in the vast aisle, without the chapel where the choir +were chanting, with the twilight gathering in the lofty arches, +and the candles of the various processions creeping to the +consecrated sepulchre from the distant parts of the church. It +was so different in that crowded and suffocating chapel of the +Vatican, where, fine as was the music, I vowed positively never +to subject myself to such annoyance again.</p> + +<p>It had become almost dark, when the last candle but one was +extinguished in the symbolical pyramid, and the first almost painful +note of the <i>miserere</i> wailed out into the vast church of St. +Peter. For the next half hour, the kneeling listeners, around +the door of the chapel, seemed spell-bound in their motionless +attitudes. The darkness thickened, the hundred lamps at the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">419</a></span> +far-off sepulchre of the saint, looked like a galaxy of twinkling +points of fire, almost lost in the distance; and from the now +perfectly obscured choir, poured, in ever-varying volume, the +dirge-like music, in notes inconceivably plaintive and affecting. +The power, the mingled mournfulness and sweetness, the impassioned +fulness, at one moment, and the lost, shrieking wildness +of one solitary voice, at another, carry away the soul like a +whirlwind. I have never been so moved by anything. It is not +in the scope of language to convey an idea to another of the effect +of the <i>miserere</i>.</p> + +<p>It was not till several minutes after the music had ceased, that +the dark figures rose up from the floor about me. As we +approached the door of the church, the full moon, about three +hours risen, poured broadly under the arch of the portico, inundating +the whole front of the lofty dome with a flood of light, such as +falls only on Italy. There seemed to be no atmosphere between. +Daylight is scarce more intense. The immense square, with its +slender obelisk and embracing crescents of colonnade, lay spread +out as definitely to the eye as at noon, and the two famous +fountains shot up their clear waters to the sky, the moonlight +streamed through the spray, and every drop as visible and bright +as a diamond.</p> + +<p>I got out of the press of carriages, and took a by-street along +the Tiber, to the Coliseum. Passing the Jews' quarter, which +shuts at dark by heavy gates, I found myself near the Tarpeian +rock, and entered the Forum, behind the ruins of the temple of +Fortune. I walked toward the palace of the Cesars, stopping to +gaze on the columns, whose shadows have fallen on the same spot, +where I now saw them, for sixteen or seventeen centuries. It +checks the blood at one's heart, to stand on the spot and remember +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">420</a></span> +it. There was not the sound of a footstep through the whole +wilderness of the Forum. I traversed it to the arch of Titus in +a silence, which, with the majestic ruins around, seemed almost +supernatural—the mind was left so absolutely to the powerful +associations of the place.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes more brought me to the Coliseum. Its gigantic +walls, arches on arches, almost to the very clouds, lay half in +shadow, half in light, the ivy hung trembling in the night air, +from between the cracks of the ruin, and it looked like some +mighty wreck in a desert. I entered, and a hundred voices +announced to me the presence of half the fashion of Rome. I +had forgotten that it was <i>the mode</i> "to go to the Coliseum by +moonlight." Here they were dancing and laughing about the +arena where thousands of Christians had been torn by wild +beasts, for the amusement of the emperors of Rome; where +gladiators had fought and died; where the sands beneath their +feet were more eloquent of blood than any other spot on the face +of the earth—and one sweet voice proposed a dance, and another +wished she could have music and supper, and the solemn old +arches re-echoed with shouts and laughter. The travestie of the +thing was amusing. I mingled in the crowd, and found acquaintances +of every nation, and an hour I had devoted to romantic +solitude and thought passed away, perhaps, quite as agreeably, in +the nonsense of the most thoughtless triflers in society. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LXI.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +VIGILS OVER THE HOST—CEREMONIES OF EASTER SUNDAY—THE +PROCESSION—HIGH MASS—THE POPE BLESSING THE PEOPLE—CURIOUS +ILLUMINATION—RETURN TO FLORENCE—RURAL +FESTA—HOSPITALITY OF THE FLORENTINES—EXPECTED MARRIAGE +OF THE GRAND DUKE.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rome</span>, 1833.—This is Friday of the holy week. The host, +which was deposited yesterday amid its thousand lamps in the +Paoline chapel, was taken from its place this morning, in solemn +procession, and carried back to the Sistine, after lying in the +consecrated place twenty-four hours. Vigils were kept over it +all night. The Paoline chapel has no windows, and the lights +are so disposed as to multiply its receding arches till the eye is +lost in them. The altar on which the host lay was piled up to +the roof in a pyramid of light, and with the prostrate figures +constantly covering the floor, and the motionless soldier in +antique armor at the entrance, it was like some scene of wild +romance.</p> + +<p>The ceremonies of Easter Sunday were performed where all +others should have been—in the body of St. Peter's. Two lines +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">422</a></span> +of soldiers, forming an aisle up the centre, stretched from the +square without the portico to the sacred sepulchre. Two +temporary platforms for the various diplomatic corps and other +privileged persons occupied the sides, and the remainder of the +church was filled by thousands of strangers, Roman peasantry, and +contadini (in picturesque red boddices, and with golden bodkins +through their hair), from all the neighboring towns.</p> + +<p>A loud blast of trumpets, followed by military music, announced +the coming of the procession. The two long lines of soldiers +presented arms, and the esquires of the Pope entered first, in red +robes, followed by the long train of proctors, chamberlains, mitre-bearers, +and incense-bearers, the men-at-arms, escorting the +procession on either side. Just before the cardinals, came a +cross-bearer, supported on either side by men in showy surplices +carrying lights, and then came the long and brilliant line of +white-headed cardinals, in scarlet and ermine. The military +dignitaries of the monarch preceded the Pope, a splendid mass of +uniforms, and his Holiness then appeared, supported, in his great +gold and velvet chair, upon the shoulders of twelve men, clothed +in red damask, with a canopy over his head, sustained by eight +gentlemen, in short, violet-colored silk mantles. Six of the +Swiss guard (representing the six Catholic canons) walked near +the Pope, with drawn swords on their shoulders, and after his +chair followed a troop of civil officers, whose appointments I did +not think it worth while to enquire. The procession stopped +when the Pope was opposite the "chapel of the holy sacrament," +and his Holiness descended. The tiara was lifted from his head +by a cardinal, and he knelt upon a cushion of velvet and gold to +adore the "sacred host," which was exposed upon the altar. +After a few minutes he returned to his chair, his tiara was again +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">423</a></span> +set on his head, and the music rang out anew, while the procession +swept on to the sepulchre.</p> + +<p>The spectacle was all splendor. The clear space through the +vast area of the church, lined with glittering soldiery, the +dazzling gold and crimson of the coming procession, the high +papal chair, with the immense fan-banners of peacock's feathers, +held aloft, the almost immeasurable dome and mighty pillars, +above and around, and the multitudes of silent people, produced +a scene which, connected with the idea of religious worship, and +added to by the swell of a hundred instruments of music, quite +dazzled and overpowered me.</p> + +<p>The high mass (performed but three times a year) proceeded. +At the latter part of it, the Pope mounted to the altar, and, after +various ceremonies, elevated the sacred host. At the instant +that the small white wafer was seen between the golden candlesticks, +the two immense lines of soldiers dropped upon their +knees, and all the people prostrated themselves at the same +instant.</p> + +<p>This fine scene over, we hurried to the square in front of the +church, to secure places for a still finer one—that of the Pope +blessing the people. Several thousand troops, cavalry and footmen, +were drawn up between the steps and the obelisk, in the +centre of the piazza, and the immense area embraced by the two +circling colonnades was crowded by, perhaps, a hundred thousand +people, with eyes directed to one single point. The variety of +bright costumes, the gay liveries of the ambassadors' and cardinals' +carriages, the vast body of soldiery, and the magnificent frame of +columns and fountains in which this gorgeous picture was contained, +formed the grandest scene conceivable.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes the Pope appeared in the balcony, over the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">424</a></span> +great door of St. Peter's. Every hat in the vast multitude was +lifted and every knee bowed in an instant. <i>Half a nation +prostrate together, and one gray old man lifting up his hands to +heaven and blessing them!</i></p> + +<p>The cannon of the castle of St. Angelo thundered, the +innumerable bells of Rome pealed forth simultaneously, the +troops fell into line and motion, and the children of the two +hundred and fifty-seventh successor of St. Peter departed +<i>blessed</i>.</p> + +<p>In the evening all the world assembled to see the illumination, +which it is useless to attempt to describe.</p> + +<p>The night was cloudy and black, and every line in the +architecture of the largest building in the world was defined in +light, even to the cross, which, as I have said before, is at the +height of a mountain from the base. For about an hour it was a +delicate but vast structure of shining lines, like a drawing of a +glorious temple on the clouds. At eight, as the clock struck, +flakes of fire burst from every point, and the whole building +seemed started into flame. It was done by a simultaneous +kindling of torches in a thousand points, a man stationed at each. +The glare seemed to exceed that of noonday. No description can +give an idea of it.</p> + +<p>I am not sure that I have not been a little tedious in describing +the ceremonies of the holy week. Forsyth says in his bilious +book, that he "never could read, and certainly never could write, +a description of them." They have struck me, however, as +particularly unlike anything ever seen in our own country, and I +have endeavored to draw them slightly and with as little particularity +as possible. I trust that some of the readers of the Mirror +may find them entertaining and novel. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">425</a></span></p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florence</span>, 1833.—I found myself at six this morning, where +I had found myself at the same hour a year before—in the midst +of the rural festa in the Cascine of Florence. The Duke, to-day, +breakfasts at his farm. The people of Florence, high and low, +come out, and spread their repasts upon the fine sward of the +openings in the wood, the roads are watered, and the royal +equipages dash backward and forward, while the ladies hang their +shawls in the trees, and children and lovers stroll away into the +shade, and all looks like a scene from Boccaccio.</p> + +<p>I thought it a picturesque and beautiful sight last year, and so +described it. But I was a stranger then, newly arrived in +Florence, and felt desolate amid the happiness of so many. A +few months among so frank and warm-hearted a people as the +Tuscans, however, makes one at home. The tradesman and his +wife, familiar with your face, and happy to be seen in their +holyday dresses, give you the "<i>buon giorno</i>" as you pass, and a +cup of red wine or a seat at the cloth on the grass is at your +service in almost any group in the <i>prato</i>. I am sure I should +not find so many acquaintances in the town in which I have +passed my life.</p> + +<p>A little beyond the crowd, lies a broad open glade of the +greenest grass, in the very centre of the woods of the farm. A +broad fringe of shade is flung by the trees along the eastern side, +and at their roots cluster the different parties of the nobles and +the ambassadors. Their gayly-dressed <i>chasseurs</i> are in waiting, +the silver plate quivers and glances, as the chance rays of the sun +break through the leaves over head, and at a little distance, in +the road, stand their showy equipages in a long line from the +great oak to the farmhouse.</p> + +<p>In the evening, there was an illumination of the green alleys +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">426</a></span> +and the little square in front of the house, and a band of music +for the people. Within, the halls were thrown open for a ball. +It was given by the Grand Duke to the Duchess of Litchtenberg, +the widow of Eugene Beauharnois. The company assembled at +eight, and the presentations (two lovely countrywomen of our +own among them), were over at nine. The dancing then +commenced, and we drove home, through the fading lights still +burning in the trees, an hour or two past midnight.</p> + +<p>The Grand Duke is about to be married to one of the princesses +of Naples, and great preparations are making for the event. +He looks little like a bridegroom, with his sad face, and unshorn +beard and hair. It is, probably, not a marriage of inclination, +for the fat princess expecting him, is every way inferior to the +incomparable woman he has lost, and he passed half the last +week in a lonely visit to the chamber in which she died, in his +palace at Pisa. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LXII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +BOLOGNA—MALIBRAN—PARMA—NIGHTINGALES OF LOMBARDY—PLACENZA—AUSTRIAN +SOLDIERS—THE SIMPLON—MILAN—RESEMBLANCE +TO PARIS—THE CATHEDRAL—GUERCINO'S HAGAR—MILANESE +COFFEE.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Milan.</span>—My fifth journey over the Apennines—dull of +course. On the second evening we were at Bologna. The long +colonnades pleased me less than before, with their crowds of +foreign officers and ill-dressed inhabitants, and a placard for the +opera, announcing Malibran's last night, relieved us of the +prospect of a long evening of weariness. The divine music of +<i>La Norma</i> and a crowded and brilliant audience, enthusiastic in +their applause, seemed to inspire this still incomparable creature +even beyond her wont. She sang with a fulness, an abandonment, +a passionate energy and sweetness that seemed to come from a +soul rapt and possessed beyond control, with the melody it had +undertaken. They were never done calling her on the stage after +the curtain had fallen. After six re-appearances, she came out +once more to the footlights, and murmuring something inaudible +from her lips that showed strong agitation, she pressed her hands +together, bowed till her long hair, falling over her shoulders, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">428</a></span> +nearly touched her feet, and retired in tears. She is the siren +of Europe for me!</p> + +<p>I was happy to have no more to do with the Duke of Modena, +than to eat a dinner in his capital. We did "not forget the +picture," but my inquiries for it were as fruitless as before. I +wonder whether the author of the Pleasures of Memory has the +pleasure of remembering having seen the picture himself! +"Tassoni's bucket which is not the true one," is still shown in +the tower, and the keeper will kiss the cross upon his fingers, that +Samuel Rogers has written a false line.</p> + +<p>At Parma we ate parmesan and saw <i>the</i> Correggio. The angel +who holds the book up to the infant Saviour, the female laying her +cheek to his feet, the countenance of the holy child himself, are +creations that seem apart from all else in the schools of painting. +They are like a group, not from life, but from heaven. They are +superhuman, and, unlike other pictures of beauty which stir the +heart as if they resembled something one had loved or might +have loved, these mount into the fancy like things transcending +sympathy, and only within reach of an intellectual and elevated +wonder. This is the picture that Sir Thomas Lawrence returned +six times in one day to see. It is the only thing I saw to admire +in the Duchy of Maria Louisa. An Austrian regiment marched +into the town as we left it, and an Italian at the gate told us that +the Duchess had disbanded her last troops of the country, and +supplied their place with these yellow and black Croats and +Illyrians. Italy is Austria now to the foot of the Apennines—if +not to the top of Radicofani.</p> + +<p>Lombardy is full of nightingales. They sing by day, however +(as not specified in poetry). They are up quite as early as the +lark, and the green hedges are alive with their gurgling and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">429</a></span> +changeful music till twilight. Nothing can exceed the fertility +of these endless plains. They are four or five hundred miles of +uninterrupted garden. The same eternal level road, the same +rows of elms and poplars on either side, the same long, slimy +canals, the same square, vine-laced, perfectly green pastures and +cornfields, the same shaped houses, the same-voiced beggars with +the same sing-song whine, and the same villanous Austrians +poring over your passports and asking to be paid for it, from the +Alps to the Apennines. It is wearisome, spite of green leaves +and nightingales. A bare rock or a good brigand-looking +mountain would so refresh the eye!</p> + +<p>At Placenza, one of those admirable German bands was +playing in the public square, while a small corps of picked men +were manœuvred. Even an Italian, I should think, though he +knew and felt it was the music of his oppressors, might have been +pleased to listen. And pleased they seemed to be—for there +were hundreds of dark-haired and well-made men, with faces and +forms for heroes, standing and keeping time with the well-played +instruments, as peacefully as if there were no such thing as +liberty, and no meaning in the foreign uniforms crowding them +from their own pavement. And there were the women of +Placenza, nodding from the balconies to the white mustaches and +padded coats strutting below, and you would never dream Italy +thought herself wronged, watching the exchange of courtesies +between her dark-eyed daughters and these fair-haired coxcombs.</p> + +<p>We crossed the Po, and entered Austria's <i>nominal</i> dominions. +They rummaged our baggage as if they smelt republicanism +somewhere, and after showing a strong disposition to retain a +volume of very bad poetry as suspicious, and detaining us two +long hours, they had the modesty to ask to be paid for letting us +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">430</a></span> +off lightly. When we declined it, the <i>chef</i> threatened us a +precious searching "<i>the next time</i>." How willingly I would +submit to the annoyance to have that <i>next time</i> assured to me! +Every step I take toward the bounds of Italy, pulls so upon my +heart!</p> + +<p>As most travellers come into Italy over the Simplon, Milan +makes generally the first enthusiastic chapter in their books. I +have reversed the order myself, and have a better right to praise +it from comparison. For exterior, there is certainly no city in +Italy comparable to it. The streets are broad and noble, the +buildings magnificent, the pavement quite the best in Europe, +and the Milanese (all of whom I presume I have seen, for it is +Sunday, and the streets swarm with them), are better dressed, +and look "better to do in the world" than the Tuscans, who are +gayer and more Italian, and the Romans, who are graver and +vastly handsomer. Milan is quite like Paris. The showy and +mirror-lined <i>cafés</i>, the elegant shops, the variety of strange +people and costumes, and a new gallery lately opened in imitation +of the glass-roofed <i>passages</i> of the French capital, make one +almost feel that the next turn will bring him upon the +Boulevards.</p> + +<p>The famous cathedral, nearly completed by Napoleon, is a sort +of Aladdin creation, quite too delicate and beautiful for the open +air. The filmly traceries of gothic fretwork, the needle-like +minarets, the hundreds of beautiful statues with which it is +studded, the intricate, graceful, and bewildering architecture of +every window and turret, and the frost-like frailness and delicacy +of the whole mass, make an effect altogether upon the eye that +must stand high on the list of new sensations. It is a vast +structure withal, but a middling easterly breeze, one would think +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">431</a></span> +in looking at it, would lift it from its base and bear it over the +Atlantic like the meshes of a cobweb. Neither interior nor +exterior impresses you with the feeling of awe common to other +large churches. The sun struggles through the immense windows +of painted glass, staining every pillar and carved cornice with the +richest hues, and wherever the eye wanders it grows giddy with +the wilderness of architecture. The people on their knees are +like paintings in the strong artificial light, the checkered pavement +seems trembling with a quivering radiance, the altar is far +and indistinct, and the lamps burning over the tomb of Saint +Carlo, shine out from the centre like gems glistening in the +midst of some enchanted hall. This reads very like rhapsody, +but it is the way the place impressed me. It is like a great +dream. Its excessive beauty scarce seems constant while the eye +rests upon it.</p> + +<p>The <i>Brera</i> is a noble palace, occupied by the public galleries +of statuary and painting. I felt on leaving Florence that I could +give pictures a very long holyday. To live on them, as one does +in Italy, is like dining from morn till night. The famous +Guercino, is at Milan, however, the "Hagar," which Byron talks +of so enthusiastically, and I once more surrendered myself to a +cicerone. The picture catches your eye on your first entrance. +There is that harmony and effect in the color that mark a +masterpiece, even in a passing glance. Abraham stands in the +centre of the group, a fine, prophet-like, "green old man," with +a mild decision in his eye, from which there is evidently no +appeal. Sarah has turned her back, and you can just read in the +half-profile glance of her face, that there is a little pity mingled +in her hard-hearted approval of her rival's banishment. But +Hagar—who can describe the world of meaning in her face? +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">432</a></span> +The closed lips have in them a calm incredulousness, contradicted +with wonderful nature in the flushed and troubled forehead, and +the eyes red with long weeping. The gourd of water is hung +over her shoulder, her hand is turning her sorrowful boy from the +door, and she has looked back once more, with a large tear +coursing down her cheek, to read in the face of her master if she +is indeed driven forth for ever. It is the instant before pride and +despair close over her heart. You see in the picture that the +next moment is the crisis of her life. Her gaze is straining upon +the old man's lips, and you wait breathlessly to see her draw up +her bending form, and depart in proud sorrow for the wilderness. +It is a piece of powerful and passionate poetry. It affects you +like nothing but a reality. The eyes get warm, and the heart +beats quick, and as you walk away you feel as if a load of +oppressive sympathy was lifting from your heart.</p> + +<p>I have seen little else in Milan, except Austrian soldiers, of +whom there are fifteen thousand in this single capital! The +government has issued an order to officers not on duty, to appear +in citizen's dress, it is supposed, to diminish the appearance of so +much military preparation. For the rest, they make a kind of +coffee here, by boiling it with cream, which is better than +anything of the kind either in Paris or Constantinople; and the +Milanese are, for slaves, the most civil people I have seen, after +the Florentines. There is little English society here; I know +not why, except that the Italians are rich enough to be exclusive +and make their houses difficult of access to strangers. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LXIII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +A MELANCHOLY PROCESSION—LAGO MAGGIORE—ISOLA BELLA—THE +SIMPLON—MEETING A FELLOW-COUNTRYMAN—THE VALLEY +OF THE RHONE.</p> + +<p>In going out of the gates of Milan, we met a cart full +of peasants, tied together and guarded by <i>gens d'armes</i>, the fifth +sight of the kind that has crossed us since we passed the Austrian +border. The poor fellows looked very innocent and very sorry. +The extent of their offences probably might be the want of a +passport, and a desire to step over the limits of his majesty's +possessions. A train of beautiful horses, led by soldiers along +the ramparts, the property of the Austrian officers, were in melancholy +contrast to their sad faces.</p> + +<p>The clear snowy Alps soon came in sight, and their cold +beauty refreshed us in the midst of a heat that prostrated every +nerve in the system. It is only the first of May, and they are +mowing the grass everywhere on the road, the trees are in their +fullest leaf, the frogs and nightingales singing each other down, +and the grasshopper would be a burden. Toward night we +crossed the Sardinian frontier, and in an hour were set down at +an auberge on the bank of Lake Maggiore, in the little town of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">434</a></span> +Arona. The mountains on the other side of the broad and +mirror-like water, are speckled with ruined castles, here and +there a boat is leaving its long line of ripples behind in its course, +the cattle are loitering home, the peasants sit on the benches +before their doors, and all the lovely circumstances of a rural +summer's sunset are about us, in one of the very loveliest spots +in nature. A very old Florence friend is my companion, and +what with mutual reminiscences of sunny Tuscany, and the +deepest love in common for the sky over our heads, and the +green land around us, we are noting down "red days" in our +calendar of travel.</p> + +<p>We walked from Arona by sunrise, four or five miles along +the borders of Lake Maggiore. The kind-hearted peasants on +their way to the market raised their hats to us in passing, and I +was happy that the greeting was still "<i>buon giorno</i>." Those +dark-lined mountains before us were to separate me too soon +from the mellow accents in which it was spoken. As yet, however, +it was all Italian—the ultra-marine sky, the clear, half-purpled +hills, the inspiring air—we felt in every pulse that it was +still Italy.</p> + +<p>We were at Baveno at an early hour, and took a boat for <i>Isola +Bella</i>. It looks like a gentleman's villa afloat. A boy would +throw a stone entirely over it in any direction. It strikes you +like a kind of toy as you look at it from a distance, and getting +nearer, the illusion scarcely dissipates—for, from the water's +edge, the orange-laden terraces are piled one above another like +a pyramidal fruit-basket, the villa itself peers above like a sugar +castle, and it scarce seems real enough to land upon. We pulled +round to the northern side, and disembarked at a broad stone +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">435</a></span> +staircase, where a cicerone, with a look of suppressed wisdom, +common to his vocation, met us with the offer of his services.</p> + +<p>The entrance-hall was hung with old armor, and a magnificent +suite of apartments above, opening on all sides upon the lake, +was lined thickly with pictures, none of them remarkable except +one or two landscapes by the savage Tempesta. Travellers going +the other way would probably admire the collection more than +we. We were glad to be handed over by our pragmatical custode +to a pretty contadina, who announced herself as the gardener's +daughter, and gave us each a bunch of roses. It was a +proper commencement to an acquaintance upon Isola Bella. +She led the way to the water's edge, where, in the foundations +of the palace, a suite of eight or ten spacious rooms is constructed +<i>a la grotte</i>—with a pavement laid of small stones of +different colors, walls and roof of fantastically set shells and +pebbles, and statues that seem to have reason in their nudity. +The only light came in at the long doors opening down to the +lake, and the deep leather sofas, and dark cool atmosphere, with +the light break of the waves outside, and the long views away +toward Isola Madra, and the far-off opposite shore, composed +altogether a most seductive spot for an indolent humor and a +summer's day. I shall keep it as a cool recollection till sultry +summers trouble me no more.</p> + +<p>But the garden was the prettiest place. The lake is lovely +enough any way; but to look at it through perspectives of orange +alleys, and have the blue mountains broken by stray branches of +tulip-trees, clumps of crimson rhododendron, and clusters of citron, +yellower than gold; to sit on a garden-seat in the shade of a +thousand roses, with sweet-scented shrubs and verbenums, and a +mixture of novel and delicious perfumes embalming the air about +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">436</a></span> +you, and gaze up at snowy Alps and sharp precipices, and down +upon a broad smooth mirror in which the islands lie like clouds, +and over which the boats are silently creeping with their white +sails, like birds asleep in the sky—why (not to disparage nature), +it seems to my poor judgment, that these artificial appliances are +an improvement even to Lago Maggiore.</p> + +<p>On one side, without the villa walls, are two or three small +houses, one of which is occupied as a hotel; and here, if I had a +friend with matrimony in his eye, would I strongly recommend +lodgings for the honeymoon. A prettier cage for a pair of billing +doves no poet would conceive you.</p> + +<p>We got on to Domo d'Ossola to sleep, saying many an oft-said +thing about the entrance to the valleys of the Alps. They seem +common when spoken of, these romantic places, but they are not +the less new in the glow of a first impression.</p> + +<p>We were a little in start of the sun this morning, and commenced +the ascent of the Simplon by a gray summer's dawn, before +which the last bright star had not yet faded. From Domo +d'Ossola we rose directly into the mountains, and soon wound into +the wildest glens by a road which was flung along precipices and +over chasms and waterfalls like a waving riband. The horses +went on at a round trot, and so skilfully are the difficulties of the +ascent surmounted, that we could not believe we had passed the +spot that from below hung above us so appallingly. The route +follows the foaming river Vedro, which frets and plunges along at +its side or beneath its hanging bridges, with the impetuosity of a +mountain torrent, where the stream is swollen at every short distance +with pretty waterfalls, messengers from the melting snows +on the summits. There was one, a water-<i>slide</i> rather than a fall, +which I stopped long to admire. It came from near the peak of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">437</a></span> +the mountain, leaping at first from a green clump of firs, and descending +a smooth inclined plane, of perhaps two hundred feet. +The effect was like drapery of the most delicate lace, dropping +into festoons from the hand. The slight waves overtook each +other and mingled and separated, always preserving their elliptical +and foaming curves, till, in a smooth scoop near the bottom, +they gathered into a snowy mass, and leaped into the Vedro in +the shape of a twisted shell. If wishing could have witched it +into Mr. Cole's sketch-book, he would have a new variety of +water for his next composition.</p> + +<p>After seven hours' driving, which scarce seemed ascending but +for the snow and ice and the clear air it brought us into, we stopped +to breakfast at the village of Simplon, "three thousand, two +hundred and sixteen feet above the sea level." Here we first +realized that we had left Italy. The landlady spoke French and +the postillions German! My sentiment has grown threadbare +with travel, but I don't mind confessing that the circumstance +gave me an unpleasant thickness in the throat. I threw open the +southern window, and looked back toward the marshes of Lombardy, +and if I did not say the poetical thing, it was because</p> + +<p class="blockquot"> +"It is the silent grief that cuts the heart-strings." +</p> + +<p>In sober sadness, one may well regret any country where his life +has been filled fuller than elsewhere of sunshine and gladness; +and such, by a thousand enchantments, has Italy been to me. +Its climate is life in my nostrils, its hills and valleys are the +poetry of such things, and its marbles, pictures, and palaces, beset +the soul like the very necessities of existence. You can exist +elsewhere, but oh! you <i>live</i> in Italy! +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">438</a></span></p> + +<p>I was sitting by my English companion on a sledge in front of +the hotel, enjoying the sunshine, when the diligence drove up, +and six or eight young men alighted. One of them, walking up +and down the road to get the cramp of a confined seat out of his +legs, addressed a remark to us in English. We had neither of +us seen him before, but we exclaimed simultaneously, as he +turned away, "That's an American." "How did you know he +was not an Englishman?" I asked. "Because," said my friend, +"he spoke to us without an introduction and without a reason, as +Englishmen are not in the habit of doing, and because he ended +his sentence with 'sir,' as no Englishman does except he is +talking to an inferior, or wishes to insult you. And how did you +know it?" asked he. "Partly by instinct," I answered, "but +more, because though a traveller, he wears a new hat that cost +him ten dollars, and a new cloak that cost him fifty, (a peculiarly +American extravagance,) because he made no inclination of his +body either in addressing or leaving us, though his intention was +to be civil, and because he used fine dictionary words to express +a common idea, which, by the way, too, betrays his southern +breeding. And if you want other evidence, he has just asked +the gentleman near him to ask the conducteur something about +his breakfast, and an American is the only man in the world who +ventures to come abroad without at least French enough to keep +himself from starving." It may appear ill-natured to write +down such criticisms on one's own countryman; but the national +peculiarities by which we are distinguished from foreigners, +seemed so well defined in this instance, that I thought it worth +mentioning. We found afterward that our conjecture was right. +His name and country were on the brass plate of his portmanteau +in most legible letters, and I recognized it directly as the address +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">439</a></span> +of an amiable and excellent man, of whom I had once or twice +heard in Italy, though I had never before happened to meet him. +Three of the faults oftenest charged upon our countrymen, are +<i>over-fine clothes</i>, <i>over fine-words</i>, and <i>over-fine</i>, or <i>over-free +manners</i>!</p> + +<p>From Simplon we drove two or three miles between heaps of +snow, lying in some places from ten to six feet deep. Seven +hours before, we had ridden through fields of grain almost ready +for the harvest. After passing one or two galleries built over +the road to protect it from the avalanches where it ran beneath +the loftier precipices, we got out of the snow, and saw Brig, the +small town at the foot of the Simplon, on the other side, lying +almost directly beneath us. It looked as if one might toss his +cap down into its pretty gardens. Yet we were four or five +hours in reaching it, by a road that seemed in most parts scarcely +to descend at all. The views down the valley of the Rhone, +which opened continually before us, were of exquisite beauty, +The river itself, which is here near its source, looked like a +meadow rivulet in its silver windings, and the gigantic Helvetian +Alps which rose in their snow on the other side of the valley, +were glittering in the slant rays of a declining sun, and of a +grandeur of size and outline which diminished, even more than +distance, the river and the clusters of villages at their feet. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LXIV.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +SWITZERLAND—LA VALAIS—THE CRETINS AND THE GOITRES—A +FRENCHMAN'S OPINION OF NIAGARA—LAKE LEMAN—CASTLE +OF CHILLON—ROCKS OF MEILLERIE—REPUBLICAN AIR—MONT +BLANC—GENEVA—THE STEAMER—PARTING SORROW.</p> + +<p>We have been two days and a half loitering down through the +Swiss canton of Valais, and admiring every hour the magnificence +of these snow-capped and green-footed Alps. The little +chalets seem just lodged by accident on the crags, or stuck +against slopes so steep, that the mowers of the mountain-grass +are literally let down by ropes to their dizzy occupation. The +goats alone seem to have an exemption from all ordinary laws of +gravitation, feeding against cliffs which it makes one giddy to +look on only; and the short-waisted girls dropping a courtesy +and blushing as they pass the stranger, emerge from the little +mountain-paths, and stop by the first spring, to put on their +shoes and arrange their ribands coquetishly, before entering the +village.</p> + +<p>The two dreadful curses of these valleys meet one at every +step—the <i>cretins</i>, or natural fools, of which there is at least one +in every family; and the <i>goitre</i> or swelled throat, to which there +is hardly an exception among the women. It really makes travelling +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">441</a></span> +in Switzerland a melancholy business, with all its beauty; at +every turn in the road, a gibbering and moaning idiot, and in +every group of females, a disgusting array of excrescences too +common even to be concealed. Really, to see girls that else +were beautiful, arrayed in all their holyday finery, but with a +defect that makes them monsters to the unaccustomed eye, their +throats swollen to the size of their heads, seems to me one of the +most curious and pitiable things I have met in my wanderings. +Many attempts have been made to account for the growth of the +<i>goitre</i>, but it is yet unexplained. The men are not so subject to +it as the women, though among them, even, it is frightfully +common. But how account for the continual production by +ordinary parents of this brute race of <i>cretins</i>? They all look +alike, dwarfish, large-mouthed, grinning, and of hideous features +and expression. It is said that the children of strangers, born in +the valley, are very likely to be idiots, resembling the cretin +exactly. It seems a supernatural curse upon the land. The +Valaisians, however, consider it a blessing to have one in the +family.</p> + +<p>The dress of the women of La Valais is excessively unbecoming, +and a pretty face is rare. Their manners are kind and +polite, and at the little <i>auberges</i>, where we have stopped on the +road, there has been a cleanliness and a generosity in the supply +of the table, which prove virtues among them, not found in Italy.</p> + +<p>At Turtmann, we made a little excursion into the mountains to +see a cascade. It falls about a hundred feet, and has just now +more water than usual from the melting of the snows. It is a +pretty fall. A Frenchman writes in the book of the hotel, that +he has seen Niagara and Trenton Falls, in America, and that +they do not compare with the cascade of Turtmann! +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">442</a></span></p> + +<p>From Martigny the scenery began to grow richer, and after +passing the celebrated Fall of the Pissevache (which springs +from the top of a high Alp almost into the road, and is really a +splendid cascade), we approached Lake Leman in a gorgeous +sunset. We rose a slight hill, and over the broad sheet of +water on the opposite shore, reflected with all its towers in a +mirror of gold, lay the <i>castle of Chillon</i>. A bold green mountain, +rose steeply behind, the sparkling village of Vevey lay +farther down on the water's edge; and away toward the sinking +sun, stretched the long chain of the Jura, teinted with all the +hues of a dolphin. Never was such a lake of beauty—or it +never sat so pointedly for its picture. Mountains and water, +chateaux and shallops, vineyards and verdure, could do no more. +We left the carriage and walked three or four miles along the +southern bank, under the "Rocks of Meillerie," and the spirit of +St. Preux's Julie, if she haunt the scene where she caught her +death, of a sunset in May, is the most enviable of ghosts. I do +not wonder at the prating in albums of Lake Leman. For me, +it is (after Val d'Arno from Fiesoli) the <i>ne plus ultra</i> of a +scenery Paradise.</p> + +<p>We are stopping for the night at St. Gingoulf, on a swelling +bank of the lake, and we have been lying under the trees in +front of the hotel till the last perceptible teint is gone from the +sky over Jura. Two pedestrian gentlemen, with knapsacks and +dogs, have just arrived, and a whole family of French people, +including parrots and monkeys, came in before us, and are deafening +the house with their chattering. A cup of coffee, and then +good night!</p> + +<p>My companion, who has travelled all over Europe on foot, +confirms my opinion that there is no drive on the continent, equal +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">443</a></span> +to the forty miles between the rocks of Meillerie and Geneva, on +the southern bank of the Leman. The lake is not often much +broader than the Hudson, the shores are the noble mountains +sung so gloriously by Childe Harold; Vevey, Lausanne, Copet, +and a string of smaller villages, all famous in poetry and story, +fringe the opposite water's edge with cottages and villages, while +you wind for ever along a green lane following the bend of the +shore, the road as level as your hall pavement, and green hills +massed up with trees and verdure, overshadowing you continually. +The world has a great many sweet spots in it, and I have found +many a one which would make fitting scenery for the brightest +act of life's changeful drama—but here is one, where it seems to +me as difficult not to feel genial and kindly, as for Taglioni to +keep from floating away like a smoke-curl when she is dancing in +La Bayadere.</p> + +<p>We passed a bridge and drew in a long breath to try the +difference in the air—we were in the <i>republic</i> of Geneva. It +smelt very much as it did in the dominions of his majesty of +Sardinia—sweet-briar, hawthorn, violets and all. I used to +think when I first came from America, that the flowers (republicans +by nature as well as birds) were less fragrant under a +monarchy.</p> + +<p>Mont Blanc loomed up very white in the south, but like other +distinguished persons of whom we form an opinion from the +description of poets, the "monarch of mountains" did not seem +to me so <i>very</i> superior to his fellows. After a look or two at +him as we approached Geneva, I ceased straining my head out of +the cabriolet, and devoted my eyes to things more within the +scale of my affections—the scores of lovely villas sprinkling the +hills and valleys by which we approached the city. Sweet—sweet +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">444</a></span> +places they are to be sure! And then the month is May, +and the straw-bonneted and white-aproned girls, ladies and +peasants alike, were all out at their porches and balconies, lover-like +couples were sauntering down the park-lanes, <i>one</i> servant +passed us with a tri-cornered blue billet-doux between his thumb +and finger, the nightingales were singing their very hearts away +to the new-blown roses, and a sense of summer and seventeen, +days of sunshine and sonnet-making, came over me irresistibly. +I should like to see June out in Geneva.</p> + +<p>The little steamer that makes the tour of Lake Leman, began +to "phiz" by sunrise directly under the windows of our hotel. +We were soon on the pier, where our entrance into the boat was +obstructed by a weeping cluster of girls, embracing and parting +very unwillingly with a young lady of some eighteen years, who +was lovely enough to have been wept for by as many grown-up +gentlemen. Her own tears were under better government, +though her sealed lips showed that she dared not trust herself +with her voice. After another and another lingering kiss, the +boatman expressed some impatience, and she tore herself from +their arms and stepped into the waiting batteau. We were soon +along side the steamer, and sooner under way, and then, having +given one wave of her handkerchief to the pretty and sad group +on the shore, our fair fellow-passenger gave way to her feelings, +and sinking upon a seat, burst into a passionate flood of tears. +There was no obtruding on such sorrow, and the next hour or +two were employed by my imagination in filling up the little +drama, of which we had seen but the touching conclusion.</p> + +<p>I was pleased to find the boat (a new one) called the "Winkelreid," +in compliment to the vessel which makes the same +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">445</a></span> +voyage in Cooper's "Headsman of Berne." The day altogether +had begun like a chapter in a romance.</p> + +<p class="blockquot"> +"Lake Leman wooed us with its crystal face," +</p> + +<p>but there was the filmiest conceivable veil of mist over its +unruffled mirror, and the green uplands that rose from its edge +had a softness like dreamland upon their verdure. I know not +whether the tearful girl whose head was drooping over the railing +felt the sympathy, but I could not help thanking nature for her, +in my heart, the whole scene was so of the complexion of her +own feelings. I could have "thrown my ring into the sea," like +Policrates Samius, "to have cause for sadness too."</p> + +<p>The "Winkelreid" has (for a republican steamer), rather the +aristocratical arrangement of making those who walk <i>aft</i> the +funnel pay twice as much as those who choose to promenade +<i>forward</i>—for no earthly reason that I can divine, other than +that those who pay dearest have the full benefit of the oily +gases from the machinery, while the humbler passenger breathes +the air of heaven before it has passed through that improving +medium. Our youthful Niobe, two French ladies not particularly +pretty, an Englishman with a fishing-rod and gun, and a +coxcomb of a Swiss artist to whom I had taken a special aversion +at Rome, from a criticism I overheard upon my favorite picture +in the Colonna, my friends and myself, were the exclusive +inhalers of the oleaginous atmosphere of the stern. A crowd of +the ark's own miscellaneousness thronged the forecastle—and so +you have the programme of a day on Lake Leman. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LXV.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +LAKE LEMAN—AMERICAN APPEARANCE OF THE GENEVESE—STEAMBOAT +OF THE RHONE—GIBBON AND ROUSSEAU—ADVENTURE +OF THE LILIES—GENEVESE JEWELLERS—RESIDENCE OF +VOLTAIRE—BYRON'S NIGHT-CAP—VOLTAIRE'S WALKING-STICK +AND STOCKINGS.</p> + +<p>The water of Lake Leman looks very like other water, though +Byron and Shelley were nearly drowned in it; and Copet, a +little village on the Helvetian side, where we left three women +and took up one man (the village ought to be very much obliged +to us), is no Paradise, though Madame de Stael made it her +residence. There <i>are</i> Paradises, however, with very short +distances between, all the way down the northern shore; and +angels in them, if women are angels—a specimen or two of the +sex being visible with the aid of the spyglass, in nearly every +balcony and belvidere, looking upon the water. The taste in +country-houses seems to be here very much the same as in New +England, and quite unlike the half-palace, half-castle style +common in Italy and France. Indeed the dress, physiognomy, +and manners of old Geneva might make an American Genevese +fancy himself at home on the Leman. There is that subdued +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">447</a></span> +decency, that grave respectableness, that black-coated, straight-haired, +saint-like kind of look which is universal in the small towns +of our country, and which is as unlike France and Italy, as a +playhouse is unlike a Methodist chapel. You would know the +people of Geneva were Calvinists, whisking through the town +merely in a diligence.</p> + +<p>I lost sight of the town of Morges, eating a tête-à-tête +breakfast with my friend in the cabin. Switzerland is the only +place out of America where one gets cream for his coffee. I cry, +Morges mercy on that plea.</p> + +<p>We were at Lausanne at eleven, having steamed forty miles in +five hours. This is not quite up to the thirty-milers on the +Hudson, of which I see accounts in the papers, but we had the +advantage of not being blown up, either going or coming, and of +looking for a continuous minute on a given spot in the scenery. +Then we had an iron railing between us and that portion of the +passengers who prefer garlic to lavender-water, and we achieved +our breakfast without losing our tempers or complexions, in a +scramble. The question of superiority between Swiss and +American steamers, therefore, depends very much on the value +you set on life, temper, and time. For me, as my time is not +measured in "diamond sparks," and as my life and temper are +the only gifts with which fortune has blessed me, I prefer the +Swiss.</p> + +<p>Gibbon lived at Lausanne, and wrote here the last chapter of +his History of Rome—a circumstance which he records with +affection. It is a spot of no ordinary beauty, and the public +promenade, where we sat and looked over to Vevey and Chillon, +and the Rocks of Meillerie, and talked of Rousseau, and agreed +that it was a scene, "<i>faite pour une Julie, pour une Claire, et pour</i> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">448</a></span> +<i>un Saint Preux</i>," is one of the places, where, if I were to "play +statue," I should like to grow to my seat, and compromise, merely, +for eyesight. We have one thing against Lausanne, however,—it +is up hill and a mile from the water; and if Gibbon walked +often from Ouchet at noon, and "larded the way" as freely as +we, I make myself certain he was not the fat man his biographers +have drawn him.</p> + +<p>There were some other circumstances at Lausanne which +interested <i>us</i>—but which criticism has decided can not be +obtruded upon the public. We looked about for "Julie" and +"Clare," spite of Rousseau's "<i>ne les y cherchez pas</i>," and gave a +blind beggar a sous (all he asked) for a handful of lilies-of-the-valley, +pitying him ten times more than if he had lost his eyes +out of Switzerland. To be blind on Lake Leman! blind within +sight of Mont Blanc! We turned back to drop another sous +into his hat, as we reflected upon it.</p> + +<p>The return steamer from Vevey (I was sorry not to go to +Vevey for Rousseau's sake, and as much for Cooper's), took us +up on its way to Geneva, and we had the advantage of seeing the +same scenery in a different light. Trees, houses, and mountains, +are so much finer seen <i>against</i> the sun, with the deep shadows +toward you!</p> + +<p>Sitting by the stern, was a fat and fair Frenchwoman, who, like +me, had bought lilies, and about as many. With a very natural +facility of dramatic position, I imagined it had established a kind +of sympathy between us, and proposed to myself, somewhere in +the fair hours, to make it serve as an introduction. She went +into the cabin after a while, to lunch on cutlets and beer, and +returned to the deck without her lilies. Mine lay beside me, +within reach of her four fingers; and, as I was making up my +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">449</a></span> +mind to offer to replace her loss, she coolly took them up, and +without even a French monosyllable, commenced throwing them +overboard, stem by stem. It was very clear she had mistaken +them for her own. As the last one flew over the tafferel, the +gentleman who paid for <i>la biere et les cottelettes</i>, husband or lover, +came up with a smile and a flourish, and reminded her that she +had left her bouquet between the mustard and the beer bottle. +<i>Sequiter</i>, a scene. The lady apologized, and I disclaimed; and +the more I insisted on the delight she had given me by throwing +my pretty lilies into Lake Leman, the more she made herself +unhappy, and insisted on my being inconsolable. One should +come abroad to know how much may be said upon throwing +overboard a bunch of lilies!</p> + +<p>The clouds gathered, and we had some hopes of a storm, but the +"darkened Jura" was merely dim, and the "live thunder" waited +for another Childe Harold. We were at Geneva at seven, and +had the whole population to witness our debarkation. The pier +where we landed, and the new bridge across the outlet of the +Rhone, are the evening promenade.</p> + +<p>The far-famed jewellers of Geneva are rather an aristocratic +class of merchants. They are to be sought in chambers, and +their treasures are produced box by box, from locked drawers, +and bought, if at all, without the pleasure of "beating down." +They are, withal, a gentlemanly class of men; and, of the +principal one, as many stories are told as of Beau Brummel. +He has made a fortune by his shop, and has the manners of a +man who can afford to buy the jewels out of a king's crown.</p> + +<p>We were sitting at the <i>table d'hote</i>, with about forty people, on +the first day of our arrival, when the servant brought us each a +gilt-edged note, sealed with an elegant device; invitations, we +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">450</a></span> +presumed, to a ball, at least. Mr. So-and-so (I forget the name), +begged pardon for the liberty he had taken, and requested us to +call at his shop in the Rue de Rhone, and look at his varied +assortment of bijouterie. A card was enclosed, and the letter in +courtly English. We went, of course; as who would not? The +cost to him was a sheet of paper, and the trouble of sending to +the hotel for a list of the new arrivals. I recommend the system +to all callow Yankees, commencing a "pushing business."</p> + +<p>Geneva is full of foreigners in the summer, and it has quite +the complexion of an agreeable place. The environs are, of +course, unequalled, and the town itself is a stirring and gay +capital, full of brilliant shops, handsome streets and promenades, +where everything is to be met but pretty women. Female +beauty would come to a good market anywhere in Switzerland. +We have seen but one pretty girl (our Niobe of the steamer), +since we lost sight of Lombardy. They dress well here, and +seem modest, and have withal an air of style; but of some five +hundred ladies, whom I may have seen in the valley of the Rhone +and about this neighborhood, it would puzzle a modern Appelles +to compose an endurable Venus. I understand a fair countryman +of ours is about taking up her residence in Geneva; and +if Lake Leman does not "woo her," and the "live thunder" +leap down from Jura, the jewellers, at least, will crown her +queen of the Canton, and give her the tiara at cost.</p> + +<p>I hope "Maria Wilhelmina Amelia Skeggs" will forgive me +for having gone to <i>Ferney</i> in an <i>omnibus</i>! Voltaire lived just +under the Jura, on a hill-side, overlooking Geneva and the lake, +with a landscape before him in the foreground, that a painter +could not improve, and Mont Blanc and its neighbor mountains, +the breaks to his horizon. At six miles off, Geneva looks very +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">451</a></span> +beautifully, astride the exit of the Rhone from the lake; and the +lake itself looks more like a broad river, with its edges of +verdure and its outer-frame of mountains. We walked up an +avenue to a large old villa, embosomed in trees, where an old +gardener appeared, to show us the grounds. We said the proper +thing under the tree planted by the philosopher, fell in love with +the view from twenty points, met an English lady in one of the +arbors, the wife of a French nobleman to whom the house +belongs, and were bowed into the hall by the old man and handed +over to his daughter to be shown the curiosities of the interior. +These were Voltaire's rooms, just as he left them. The ridiculous +picture of his own apotheosis, painted under his own +direction, and representing him offering his Henriade to Apollo, +with all the authors of his time dying of envy at his feet, +occupies the most conspicuous place over his chamber-door. +Within was his bed, the curtains nibbled quite bare by relic-gathering +travellers; a portrait of the Empress Catharine, +embroidered by her own hand, and presented to Voltaire; his +own portrait and Frederick the Great's, and many of the philosophers', +including Franklin. A little monument stands opposite +the fireplace, with the inscription, "<i>mon esprit est partout, et mon +cœur est ici</i>." It is a snug little dormitory, opening with one +window to the west; and, to those who admire the character of +the once illustrious occupant, a place for very tangible musing. +They showed us afterward his walking-stick, a pair of silk-stockings +he had half worn, and a night-cap. The last article is +getting quite fashionable as a relic of genius. They show +Byron's at Venice. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LXVI.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +PRACTICAL BATHOS OF CELEBRATED PLACES—TRAVELLING COMPANIONS +AT THE SIMPLON—CUSTOM-HOUSE COMFORTS—TRIALS +OF TEMPER—CONQUERED AT LAST!—DIFFERENT ASPECTS OF +FRANCE, ITALY, AND SWITZERLAND—FORCE OF POLITENESS.</p> + +<p>Whether it was that I had offended the genius of the spot, by +coming in an omnibus, or from a desire I never can resist in such +places, to travesty and ridicule the mock solemnities with which +they are exhibited, certain it is that I left Ferney, without having +encountered, even in the shape of a more serious thought, the +spirit of Voltaire. One reads the third canto of Childe Harold +in his library, and feels as if "Lausanne and Ferney" <i>should</i> be +very interesting places to the traveller, and yet when he is shown +Gibbon's bower by a fellow scratching his head and hitching up +his trousers the while, and the nightcap that enclosed the busy +brain from which sprang the fifty brilliant <i>tomes</i> on his shelves, by +a country-girl, who hurries through her drilled description, with +her eye on the silver <i>douceur</i> in his fingers, he is very likely to +rub his hand over his eyes, and disclaim, quite honestly, all pretensions +to enthusiasm. And yet, I dare say, I shall have a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">453</a></span> +great deal of pleasure in remembering that I <i>have been</i> at Ferney. +As an English traveller would say, "I have <i>done</i> Voltaire!"</p> + +<p>Quite of the opinion that it was not doing justice to Geneva to +have made but a three days' stay in it, regretting not having seen +Sismondi and Simond, and a whole coterie of scholars and authors, +whose home it is, and with a mind quite made up to return to +Switzerland, when my <i>beaux jours</i> of love, money, and leisure, +shall have arrived, I crossed the Rhone at sunrise, and turned +my face toward Paris.</p> + +<p>The Simplon is much safer travelling than the pass of the Jura. +We were all day getting up the mountains by roads that would +make me anxious, if there were a neck in the carriage I would rather +should not be broken. My company, fortunately, consisted of +three Scotch spinsters, who would try any precipice of the Jura, +I think, if there were a lover at the bottom. If the horses had +backed in the wrong place, it would have been to all three, I am +sure, a deliverance from a world in whose volume of happiness,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<p class="i11">"their leaf</p> +<p>By some o'er-hasty angel was misplaced."</p> +</div> + +<p>As to my own neck and my friend's, there is a special providence +for bachelors, even if they were of importance enough to merit a +care. Spinsters and bachelors, we all arrived safely at Rousses, +the entrance to France, and here, if I were to write before +repeating the alphabet, you would see what a pen could do in a +passion.</p> + +<p>The carriage was stopped by three custom-house officers, and +taken under a shed, where the doors were closed behind it. We +were then required to dismount and give our honors that we had +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">454</a></span> +nothing new in the way of clothes; no "jewelry; no unused +manufactures of wool, thread, or lace; no silk of floss silk; no +polished metals, plated or varnished; no toys, (except a heart +each); nor leather, glass, or crystal manufactures." So far, I +kept my temper.</p> + +<p>Our trunks, carpet-bags, hat-boxes, dressing-cases, and <i>portfeuilles</i>, +were then dismounted and critically examined—every +dress and article unfolded; shirts, cravats, unmentionables and +all, and searched thoroughly by two ruffians, whose fingers were +no improvement upon the labors of the washerwoman. In an +hour's time or so we were allowed to commence repacking. Still, +I kept my temper.</p> + +<p>We were then requested to walk into a private room, while the +ladies, for the same purpose, were taken, by a woman, into another. +Here we were requested to unbutton our coats, and, begging +pardon for the liberty, these courteous gentlemen thrust +their hands into our pockets, felt in our bosoms, pantaloons, and +shoes, examined our hats, and even eyed our "pet curls" very +earnestly, in the expectation of finding us crammed with Geneva +jewelry. Still, I kept my temper.</p> + +<p>Our trunks were then put upon the carriage, and a sealed +string put upon them, which we were not to cut till we arrived in +Paris. (Nine days!) They then demanded to be paid for the +sealing, and the fellows who had unladen the carriage were to be +paid for their labor. This done, we were permitted to drive on. +Still, I kept my temper!</p> + +<p>We arrived, in the evening, at Morez, in a heavy rain. We +were sitting around a comfortable fire, and the soup and fish were +just brought upon the table. A soldier entered and requested us +to walk to the police-office. "But it rains hard, and our dinner +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">455</a></span> +is just ready." The man in the mustache was inexorable. The +commissary closed his office at eight, and we must go instantly to +certify to our passports, and get new ones for the interior. +Cloaks and umbrellas were brought, and, <i>bon gre</i>, <i>mal gre</i>, we +walked half a mile in the mud and rain to a dirty commissary, +who kept us waiting in the dark fifteen minutes, and then, making +out a description of the person of each, demanded half a dollar +for the new passport, and permitted us to wade back to our +dinner. This had occupied an hour, and no improvement to +soup or fish. Still, I kept my temper—rather!</p> + +<p>The next morning, while we were forgetting the annoyances +of the previous night, and admiring the new-pranked livery of +May by a glorious sunshine, a civil <i>arretez vous</i> brought up the +carriage to the door of <i>another custom-house</i>! The order was to +dismount, and down came once more carpet-bags, hat-boxes, and +dressing-cases, and a couple of hours were lost again in a fruitless +search for contraband articles. When it was all through, and the +officers and men <i>paid</i> as before, we were permitted to proceed +with the gracious assurance that we should not be troubled again +till we got to Paris! I bade the commissary good morning, +felicitated him on the liberal institutions of his country and his +zeal in the exercise of his own agreeable vocation, and—I am +free to confess—lost my temper! Job and Xantippe's husband! +could I help it!</p> + +<p>I confess I expected better things of <i>France</i>. In Italy, +where you come to a new dukedom every half-day, you do not +much mind opening your trunks, for they are petty princes and +need the pitiful revenue of contraband articles and the officer's +fee. Yet even they leave the person of the traveller sacred; and +where in the world, except in France, is a party, travelling evidently +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">456</a></span> +for pleasure, subjected <i>twice at the same border</i> to the degrading +indignity of a search! Ye "hunters of Kentucky"—thank +heaven that you can go into Tennessee without having +your "plunder" overhauled and your pockets searched by successive +parties of scoundrels, whom you are to pay "by order of +the government," for their trouble!</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>The Simplon, which you pass in a day, divides two nations, +each other's physical and moral antipodes. The handsome, picturesque, +lazy, unprincipled Italian, is left in the morning in his +own dirty and exorbitant inn; and, on the evening of the same +day, having crossed but a chain of mountains, you find yourself +in a clean auberge, nestled in the bosom of a Swiss valley, another +language spoken around you, and in the midst of a people, +who seem to require the virtues they possess to compensate them +for more than their share of uncomeliness. You travel a day or +two down the valley of the Rhone, and when you are become +reconciled to <i>cretins</i> and <i>goitres</i>, and ill-dressed and worse formed +men and women, you pass in another single day the chain of the +Jura, and find yourself in France—a country as different from +both Switzerland and Italy, as they are from each other. How is +it that these diminutive cantons preserve so completely their +nationality? It seems a problem to the traveller who passes from +one to the other without leaving his carriage.</p> + +<p>One is compelled to like France in spite of himself. You are +no sooner over the Jura than you are enslaved, past all possible +ill-humor, by the universal politeness. You stop for the night +at a place, which, as my friend remarked, resembles an inn only +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">457</a></span> +in its <i>in</i>-attention, and after a bad supper, worse beds, and every +kind of annoyance, down comes my lady-hostess in the morning +to receive her coin, and if you can fly into a passion with <i>such</i> a +cap, and <i>such</i> a smile, and <i>such</i> a "<i>bon jour</i>," you are of less +penetrable stuff than man is commonly made of.</p> + +<p>I loved Italy, but detested the Italians. I detest France, but +I can not help liking the French. "Politeness is among the +virtues," says the philosopher. Rather, it takes the place of +them all. What can you believe ill of a people whose slightest +look toward you is made up of grace and kindness.</p> + +<p>We are dawdling along thirty miles a day through Burgundy, +sick to death of the bare vine-stakes, and longing to see a festooned +vineyard of Lombardy. France is such an ugly country! +The diligences lumber by, noisy and ludicrous; the cow-tenders +wear cocked hats; the beggars are in the true French extreme, +theatrical in all their misery; the climate is rainy and cold, and +as unlike that of Italy as if a thousand leagues separated them, +and the roads are long, straight, dirty, and uneven. There is +neither pleasure nor comfort, neither scenery nor antiquities, nor +accommodations for the weary—nothing but <i>politeness</i>. And it +is odd how it reconciles you to it all. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LXVII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +PARIS AND LONDON—REASONS FOR LIKING PARIS—JOYOUSNESS +OF ITS CITIZENS—LAFAYETTE'S FUNERAL—ROYAL RESPECT AND +GRATITUDE—ENGLAND—DOVER—ENGLISH NEATNESS AND COMFORT, +AS DISPLAYED IN THE HOTELS, WAITERS, FIRES, BELL-ROPES, +LANDSCAPES, WINDOW-CURTAINS, TEA-KETTLES, STAGE-COACHES, +HORSES, AND EVERYTHING ELSE—SPECIMEN OF +ENGLISH RESERVE—THE GENTLEMAN DRIVER OF FASHION—A +CASE FOR MRS. TROLLOPE.</p> + +<p>It is pleasant to get back to Paris. One meets everybody +there one ever saw; and operas and coffee, Taglioni and Leontine +Fay, the belles and the Boulevards, the shops, spectacles, +life, lions, and lures to every species of pleasure, rather give you +the impression that, outside the barriers of Paris, time is wasted +in travel.</p> + +<p>What pleasant idlers they look! The very shopkeepers seem +standing behind their counters for amusement. The soubrette +who sells you a cigar, or ties a crape on your arm (it was for +poor old Lafayette), is coiffed as for a ball; the <i>frotteur</i> who +takes the dust from your boots, sings his lovesong as he brushes +away, the old man has his bouquet in his bosom, and the beggar +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">459</a></span> +looks up at the new statue of Napoleon in the Place Vendome—everybody +has some touch of fancy, some trace of a heart on the +look-out, at least, for pleasure.</p> + +<p>I was at Lafayette's funeral. They buried the old patriot like +a criminal. Fixed bayonets before and behind his hearse, his +own National Guard disarmed, and troops enough to beleaguer a +city, were the honors paid by the "citizen king" to the man who +had made him! The indignation, the scorn, the bitterness, expressed +on every side among the people, and the ill-smothered +cries of disgust as the two <i>empty</i> royal carriages went by, in the +funeral train, seemed to me strong enough to indicate a settled +and universal hostility to the government.</p> + +<p>I met Dr. Bowring on the Boulevard after the funeral was +over. I had not seen him for two years, but he could talk of +nothing but the great event of the day—"You have come in +time," he said, "to see how they carried the old general to his +grave! What would they say to this in America? Well—let +them go on! We shall see what will come of it? They have +buried Liberty and Lafayette together—our last hope in Europe +is quite dead with him!"</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>After three delightful days in Paris we took the northern diligence; +and, on the second evening, having passed hastily +through Montreuil, Abbeville, Boulogne, and voted the road the +dullest couple of hundred miles we had seen in our travels, we +were set down in Calais. A stroll through some very indifferent +streets, a farewell visit to the last French <i>café</i>, we were likely to +see for a long time, and some unsatisfactory inquiries about Beau +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">460</a></span> +Brummel, who is said to live here still, filled up till bedtime our +last day on the continent.</p> + +<p>The celebrated Countess of Jersey was on board the steamer, +and some forty or fifty plebeian stomachs shared with her +fashionable ladyship and ourselves the horrors of a passage +across the channel. It is rather the most disagreeable sea I +ever traversed, though I <i>have</i> seen "the Euxine," "the roughest +sea the traveller e'er ——s," etc., according to Don Juan.</p> + +<p>I was lying on my back in a berth when the steamer reached +her moorings at Dover, and had neither eyes nor disposition to +indulge in the proper sentiment on approaching the "white cliffs" +of my fatherland. I crawled on deck, and was met by a wind as +cold as December, and a crowd of rosy English faces on the pier, +wrapped in cloaks and shawls, and indulging curiosity evidently +at the expense of a shiver. It was the first of June!</p> + +<p>My companion led the way to a hotel, and we were introduced +by <i>English</i> waiters (I had not seen such a thing in three years, +and it was quite like being waited on by gentlemen), to two blazing +coal fires in the "coffee room" of the "Ship." Oh what a +comfortable place it appeared! A rich Turkey carpet snugly +fitted, nice-rubbed mahogany tables, the morning papers from +London, bellropes that <i>would</i> ring the bell, doors that <i>would</i> +shut, a landlady that spoke English, and was kind and civil; and, +though there were eight or ten people in the room, no noise +above the rustle of a newspaper, and positively, rich red damask +curtains, neither second-hand nor shabby, to the windows! A +greater contrast than this to the things that answer to them on +the continent, could scarcely be imagined.</p> + +<p><i>Malgré</i> all my observations on the English, whom I have +found elsewhere the most open-hearted and social people in the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">461</a></span> +world, they are said by themselves and others to be just the contrary; +and, presuming they were different in England, I had +made up my mind to seal my lips in all public places, and be +conscious of nobody's existence but my own. There were +several elderly persons dining at the different tables; and one +party, of a father and son, waited on by their own servants in +livery. Candles were brought in, the different cloths were +removed; and, as my companion had gone to bed, I took up a +newspaper to keep me company over my wine. In the course +of an hour, some remark had been addressed to me, provocative +of conversation, by almost every individual in the room! The +subjects of discussion soon became general, and I have seldom +passed a more social and agreeable evening. And so much for +the first specimen of English reserve!</p> + +<p>The fires were burning brilliantly, and the coffee-room was in +the nicest order when we descended to our breakfast at six the +next morning. The tea-kettle sung on the hearth, the toast was +hot, and done to a turn, and the waiter was neither sleepy nor +uncivil—all, again, very unlike a morning at a hotel in <i>la belle</i> +France.</p> + +<p>The coach rattled up to the door punctually at the hour; and, +while they were putting on my way-worn baggage, I stood looking +in admiration at the carriage and horses. They were four beautiful +bays, in small, neat harness of glazed leather, brass-mounted, +their coats shining like a racer's, their small, blood-looking heads +curbed up to stand exactly together, and their hoofs blacked and +brushed with the polish of a gentleman's boots. The coach was +gaudily painted, the only thing out of taste about it; but it was +admirably built, the wheel-horses were quite under the coachman's +box, and the whole affair, though it would carry twelve or +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">462</a></span> +fourteen people, covered less ground than a French one-horse +cabriolet. It was altogether quite a study.</p> + +<p>We mounted to the top of the coach; "all right," said the +ostler, and away shot the four fine creatures, turning their small +ears, and stepping together with the ease of a cat, at ten miles +in the hour. The driver was dressed like a Broadway idler, and +sat in his place, and held his "ribands" and his tandemwhip +with a confident air of superiority, as if he were quite convinced +that he and his team were beyond criticism—and so they were! +I could not but smile at contrasting his silence and the speed and +ease with which we went along, with the clumsy, cumbrous +diligence or vetturino, and the crying, whipping, cursing and ill-appointed +postillions of France and Italy. It seems odd, in a +two hours' passage, to pass over such strong lines of national +difference—so near, and not even a shading of one into the other.</p> + +<p>England is described always very justly, and always in the +same words: "it is all one garden." There is not a cottage +between Dover and London (seventy miles), where a poet might +not be happy to live. I saw a hundred little spots I coveted +with quite a heart-ache. There was no poverty on the road. +Everybody seemed employed, and everybody well-made and +healthy. The relief from the deformity and disease of the wayside +beggars of the continent was very striking.</p> + +<p>We were at Canterbury before I had time to get accustomed +to my seat. The horses had been changed twice; the coach, it +seemed to me, hardly stopping while it was done; way-passengers +were taken up and put down, with their baggage, without a +word, and in half a minute; money was tossed to the keeper of +the turnpike gate as we dashed through; the wheels went over +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">463</a></span> +the smooth road without noise, and with scarce a sense of motion—it +was the perfection of travel.</p> + +<p>The new driver from Canterbury rather astonished me. He +drove into London every day, and was more of a "<i>swell</i>." He +owned the first team himself, four blood horses of great beauty, +and it was a sight to see him drive them! His language was +free from all slang, and very gentlemanlike and well chosen, and +he discussed everything. He found out that I was an American, +and said we did not think enough of the memory of Washington. +Leaving his bones in the miserable brick tomb, of which he had +descriptions, was not, in his opinion, worthy of a country like +mine. He went on to criticise Julia Grisi (the new singer just +then setting London on fire), hummed airs from "<i>Il Pirati</i>," to +show her manner; sang an English song like Braham; gave a +decayed Count, who sat on the box, some very sensible advice +about the management of a wild son; drew a comparison +between French and Italian women (he had travelled); told us +who the old Count was in very tolerable French, and preferred +Edmund Kean and Fanny Kemble to all actors in the world. +His taste and his philosophy, like his driving, were quite unexceptionable. +He was, withal, very handsome, and had the easy +and respectful manners of a well-bred person. It seemed very +odd to give him a shilling at the end of the journey.</p> + +<p>At Chatham we took up a very elegantly dressed young man, +who had come down on a fishing excursion. He was in the +army, and an Irishman. We had not been half an hour on the +seat together, before he had discovered, by so many plain questions, +that I was an American, a stranger in England, and an +acquaintance of a whole regiment of his friends in Malta and +Corfu. If this had been a Yankee, thought I, what a chapter it +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">464</a></span> +would have made for Basil Hall or Madame Trollope! With all +his inquisitiveness I liked my companion, and half accepted his +offer to drive me down to Epsom the next day to the races. I +know no American who would have beaten <i>that</i> on a stage-coach +acquaintance. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_465" id="Page_465"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LXVIII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +FIRST VIEW OF LONDON—THE KING'S BIRTHDAY—PROCESSION OF +MAIL COACHES—REGENT STREET—LADY BLESSINGTON—THE +ORIGINAL PELHAM—BULWER, THE NOVELIST—JOHN GALT—D'ISRAELI, +THE AUTHOR OF VIVIAN GREY—RECOLLECTIONS OF +BYRON—INFLUENCE OF AMERICAN OPINIONS ON ENGLISH LITERATURE.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">London.</span>—From the top of Shooter's Hill we got our first +view of London—an indistinct, architectural mass, extending all +round to the horizon, and half enveloped in a dim and lurid +smoke. "That is St. Paul's!—there is Westminster Abbey!—there +is the tower of London!" What directions were these to +follow for the first time with the eye!</p> + +<p>From Blackheath (seven or eight miles from the centre of +London), the beautiful hedges disappeared, and it was one continued +mass of buildings. The houses were amazingly small, a +kind of thing that would do for an object in an imitation perspective +park, but the soul of neatness pervaded them. Trelises +were nailed between the little windows, roses quite overshadowed +the low doors, a painted fence enclosed the hand's breadth of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_466" id="Page_466">466</a></span> +grass-plot, and very, oh, <i>very</i> sweet faces bent over lapfuls of +work beneath the snowy and looped-up curtains. It was all +home-like and amiable. There was an <i>affectionateness</i> in the +mere outside of every one of them.</p> + +<p>After crossing Waterloo Bridge, it was busy work for the eyes. +The brilliant shops, the dense crowds of people, the absorbed air +of every passenger, the lovely women, the cries, the flying +vehicles of every description, passing with the most dangerous +speed—accustomed as I am to large cities, it quite made me +dizzy. We got into a "jarvey" at the coach-office, and in half +an hour I was in comfortable quarters, with windows looking +down St. James street, and the most agreeable leaf of my life +to turn over. "Great emotions interfere little with the mechanical +operations of life," however, and I dressed and dined, +though it was my first hour in London.</p> + +<p>I was sitting in the little parlor alone over a fried sole and a +mutton cutlet, when the waiter came in, and pleading the crowded +state of the hotel, asked my permission to spread the other side +of the table for a clergyman. I have a kindly preference for the +cloth, and made not the slightest objection. Enter a fat man, +with top-boots and a hunting-whip, rosy as Bacchus, and excessively +out of breath with mounting one flight of stairs. Beefsteak +and potatoes, a pot of porter, and a bottle of sherry +followed close on his heels. With a single apology for the intrusion, +the reverend gentleman fell to, and we ate and drank for a +while in true English silence.</p> + +<p>"From Oxford, sir, I presume," he said at last, pushing back +his plate, with an air of satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"No, I had never the pleasure of seeing Oxford."</p> + +<p>"R—e—ally! may I take a glass of wine with you, sir?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_467" id="Page_467">467</a></span></p> + +<p>We got on swimmingly. He would not believe I had never +been in England till the day before, but his cordiality was no +colder for that. We exchanged port and sherry, and a most +amicable understanding found its way down with the wine. Our +table was near the window, and a great crowd began to collect at +the corner of St. James' street. It was the king's birth-day, +and the people were thronging to see the nobility come in state +from the royal <i>levee</i>. The show was less splendid than the same +thing in Rome or Vienna, but it excited far more of my admiration. +Gaudiness and tinsel were exchanged for plain richness +and perfect fitness in the carriages and harness, while the horses +were incomparably finer. My friend pointed out to me the +different liveries as they turned the corner into Piccadilly, the duke +of Wellington's among others. I looked hard to see His Grace; +but the two pale and beautiful faces on the back seat, carried +nothing like the military nose on the handles of the umbrellas.</p> + +<p>The annual procession of mail-coaches followed, and it was +hardly less brilliant. The drivers and guard in their bright red +and gold uniforms, the admirable horses driven so beautifully, the +neat harness, the exactness with which the room of each horse +was calculated, and the small space in which he worked, and the +compactness and contrivance of the coaches, formed altogether +one of the most interesting spectacles I have ever seen. My +friend, the clergyman, with whom I had walked out to see them +pass, criticised the different teams <i>con amore</i>, but in language +which I did not always understand. I asked him once for an +explanation; but he looked rather grave, and said something +about "gammon," evidently quite sure that my ignorance of +London was a mere quiz.</p> + +<p>We walked down Piccadilly, and turned into, beyond all +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_468" id="Page_468">468</a></span> +comparison, the most handsome street I ever saw. The Toledo +of Naples, the Corso of Rome, the Kohl-market of Vienna, the +Rue de la Paix and Boulevards of Paris, have each impressed +me strongly with their magnificence, but they are really nothing +to Regent-street. I had merely time to get a glance at it before +dark; but for breadth and convenience, for the elegance and +variety of the buildings, though all of the same scale and +material, and for the brilliancy and expensiveness of the shops, +it seemed to me quite absurd to compare it with anything +between New York and Constantinople—Broadway and the +Hippodrome included.</p> + +<p>It is the custom for the king's tradesmen to illuminate their +shops on His Majesty's birth-night, and the principal streets on +our return were in a blaze of light. The crowd was immense. +None but the lower order seemed abroad, and I cannot describe +to you the effect on my feelings on hearing my language spoken +by every man, woman, and child, about me. It seemed a +completely foreign country in every other respect, different from +what I had imagined, different from my own and all that I had +seen; and, coming to it last, it seemed to me the farthest off +and strangest country of all—and yet the little sweep who went +laughing through the crowd, spoke a language that I had heard +attempted in vain by thousands of educated people, and that I +had grown to consider next to unattainable by others, and almost +useless to myself. Still, it did not make me feel at home. +Everything else about me was too new. It was like some mysterious +change in my own ears—a sudden power of comprehension, +such as a man might feel who was cured suddenly of +deafness. You can scarcely enter into my feelings till you have +had the changes of French, Italian, German, Greek, Turkish, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_469" id="Page_469">469</a></span> +Illyrian, and the mixtures and dialects of each, rung upon your +hearing almost exclusively, as I have for years. I wandered +about as if I were exercising some supernatural faculty in a +dream.</p> + +<p>A friend in Italy had kindly given me a letter to Lady Blessington, +and with a strong curiosity to see this celebrated lady, I +called on the second day after my arrival in London. It was +"deep i' the afternoon," but I had not yet learned the full +meaning of "town hours." "Her ladyship had not come down +to breakfast." I gave the letter and my address to the powdered +footman, and had scarce reached home when a note arrived +inviting me to call the same evening at ten.</p> + +<p>In a long library lined alternately with splendidly bound books +and mirrors, and with a deep window of the breadth of the +room, opening upon Hyde Park, I found Lady Blessington alone. +The picture to my eye as the door opened was a very lovely one. +A woman of remarkable beauty half buried in a fauteuil of +yellow satin, reading by a magnificent lamp, suspended from the +centre of the arched ceiling; sofas, couches, ottomans, and +busts, arranged in rather a crowded sumptuousness through the +room; enamel tables, covered with expensive and elegant trifles +in every corner, and a delicate white hand relieved on the back +of a book, to which the eye was attracted by the blaze of its +diamond rings. As the servant mentioned my name, she rose +and gave me her hand very cordially, and a gentleman entering +immediately after, she presented me to her son-in-law, Count +D'Orsay, the well-known Pelham of London, and certainly the +most splendid specimen of a man, and a well-dressed one that I +had ever seen. Tea was brought in immediately, and conversation +went swimmingly on. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_470" id="Page_470">470</a></span></p> + +<p>Her ladyship's inquiries were principally about America, of +which, from long absence, I knew very little. She was extremely +curious to know the degrees of reputation the present popular +authors of England enjoy among us, particularly Bulwer, Galt, +and D'Israeli (the author of Vivian Grey.) "If you will come +to-morrow night," she said, "you will see Bulwer. I am +delighted that he is popular in America. He is envied and +abused by all the literary men of London, for nothing, I believe, +except that he gets five hundred pounds for his books and they +fifty, and knowing this, he chooses to assume a pride (some +people call it puppyism), which is only the armor of a sensitive +mind, afraid of a wound. He is to his friends, the most frank +and gay creature in the world, and open to boyishness with those +who he thinks understand and value him. He has a brother +Henry, who is as clever as himself in a different vein, and is just +now publishing a book on the present state of France. Bulwer's +wife, you know, is one of the most beautiful women in London, +and his house is the resort of both fashion and talent. He is +just now hard at work on a new book, the subject of which is +the last days of Pompeii. The hero is a Roman dandy, who +wastes himself in luxury, till this great catastrophe rouses him +and develops a character of the noblest capabilities. Is Galt +much liked?"</p> + +<p>I answered to the best of my knowledge that he was not. His +life of Byron was a stab at the dead body of the noble poet, which, +for one, I never could forgive, and his books were clever, but +vulgar. He was evidently not a gentleman in his mind. This +was the opinion I had formed in America, and I had never heard +another.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry for it," said Lady B., "for he is the dearest and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_471" id="Page_471">471</a></span> +best old man in the world. I know him well. He is just on the +verge of the grave, but comes to see me now and then, and if you +had known how shockingly Byron treated him, you would only +wonder at his sparing his memory so much."</p> + +<p>"<i>Nil mortuis nisi bonum</i>," I thought would have been a better +course. If he had reason to dislike him, he had better not have +written since he was dead.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps—perhaps. But Galt has been all his life miserably +poor, and lived by his books. That must be his apology. Do +you know the D'Israeli's in America?"</p> + +<p>I assured her ladyship that the "Curiosities of Literature," by +the father, and "Vivian Grey and Contarini Fleming," by the +son, were universally known.</p> + +<p>"I am pleased at that, too, for I like them both. D'Israeli +the elder, came here with his son the other night. It would have +delighted you to see the old man's pride in him. He is very +fond of him, and as he was going away, he patted him on the head, +and said to me, "take care of him, Lady Blessington, for my sake. +He is a clever lad, but he wants ballast. I am glad he has the +honor to know you, for you will check him sometimes when I am +away!" D'Israeli, the elder, lives in the country, about twenty +miles from town, and seldom comes up to London. He is a very +plain old man in his manners, as plain as his son is the reverse. +D'Israeli, the younger, is quite his own character of Vivian Grey +crowded with talent, but very <i>soignè</i> of his curls, and a bit of a +coxcomb. There is no reserve about him, however, and he is the +only <i>joyous</i> dandy I ever saw."</p> + +<p>I asked if the account I had seen in some American paper of +a literary celebration at Canandaigua, and the engraving of her +ladyship's name with some others upon a rock, was not a quiz. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_472" id="Page_472">472</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, by no means. I was equally flattered and amused by the +whole affair. I have a great idea of taking a trip to America to +see it. Then the letter, commencing 'Most charming Countess—for +charming you must be since you have written the conversations +of Lord Byron'—oh, it was quite delightful. I have shown +it to everybody. By the way, I receive a great many letters +from America, from people I never heard of, written in the most +extraordinary style of compliment, apparently in perfectly good +faith. I hardly know what to make of them."</p> + +<p>I accounted for it by the perfect seclusion in which great numbers +of cultivated people live in our country, who having neither +intrigue, nor fashion, nor twenty other things to occupy their +minds as in England, depend entirely upon books, and consider +an author who has given them pleasure as a friend. America, I +said, has probably more literary enthusiasts than any country in +the world; and there are thousands of romantic minds in the +interior of New England, who know perfectly every writer this +side the water, and hold them all in affectionate veneration, +scarcely conceivable by a sophisticated European. If it were not +for such readers, literature would be the most thankless of vocations. +I, for one, would never write another line.</p> + +<p>"And do you think these are the people who write to me? If +I could think so, I should be exceedingly happy. People in +England are refined down to such heartlessness—criticism, private +and public, is so interested and so cold, that it is really +delightful to know there is a more generous tribunal. Indeed, I +think all our authors now are beginning to write for America. +We think already a great deal of your praise or censure."</p> + +<p>I asked if her ladyship had known many Americans.</p> + +<p>"Not in London, but a great many abroad. I was with Lord +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_473" id="Page_473">473</a></span> +Blessington in his yacht at Naples, when the American fleet was +lying there, eight or ten years ago, and we were constantly on board +your ships. I knew Commodore Creighton and Captain Deacon +extremely well, and liked them particularly. They were with us, +either on board the yacht or the frigate every evening, and I remember +very well the band playing always, "God save the King," +as we went up the side. Count d'Orsay here, who spoke very +little English at that time, had a great passion for Yankee Doodle, +and it was always played at his request."</p> + +<p>The Count, who still speaks the language with a very slight +accent, but with a choice of words that shows him to be a man of +uncommon tact and elegance of mind, inquired after several of the +officers, whom I have not the pleasure of knowing. He seemed +to remember his visits to the frigate with great pleasure. The +conversation, after running upon a variety of topics, which I +could not with propriety put into a letter for the public eye, +turned very naturally upon Byron. I had frequently seen the +Countess Guiccioli on the Continent, and I asked Lady Blessington +if she knew her.</p> + +<p>"No. We were at Pisa when they were living together, but, +though Lord Blessington had the greatest curiosity to see her, +Byron would never permit it. 'She has a red head of her own,' +said he, 'and don't like to show it.' Byron treated the poor +creature dreadfully ill. She feared more than she loved him."</p> + +<p>She had told me the same thing herself in Italy.</p> + +<p>It would be impossible, of course, to make a full and fair record +of a conversation of some hours. I have only noted one or two +topics which I thought most likely to interest an American reader. +During all this long visit, however, my eyes were very busy in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_474" id="Page_474">474</a></span> +finishing for memory, a portrait of the celebrated and beautiful +woman before me.</p> + +<p>The portrait of Lady Blessington in the Book of Beauty is not +unlike her, but it is still an unfavorable likeness. A picture by +Sir Thomas Lawrence hung opposite me, taken, perhaps, at the +age of eighteen, which is more like her, and as captivating a +representation of a just matured woman, full of loveliness and +love, the kind of creature with whose divine sweetness the gazer's +heart aches, as ever was drawn in the painter's most inspired hour. +The original is now (she confessed it very frankly) forty. She +looks something on the sunny side of thirty. Her person is full, +but preserves all the fineness of an admirable shape; her foot is +not crowded in a satin slipper, for which a Cinderella might long +be looked for in vain, and her complexion (an unusually fair skin, +with very dark hair and eyebrows), is of even a girlish delicacy +and freshness. Her dress of blue satin (if I am describing her +like a milliner, it is because I have here and there a reader of the +Mirror in my eye who will be amused by it), was cut low and +folded across her bosom, in a way to show to advantage the round +and sculpture-like curve and whiteness of a pair of exquisite shoulders, +while her hair dressed close to her head, and parted simply +on her forehead with a rich <i>ferroniere</i> of turquoise, enveloped in +clear outline a head with which it would be difficult to find a fault. +Her features are regular, and her mouth, the most expressive of +them, has a ripe fulness and freedom of play, peculiar to the Irish +physiognomy, and expressive of the most unsuspicious good humor. +Add to all this a voice merry and sad by turns, but always +musical, and manners of the most unpretending elegance, yet +even more remarkable for their winning kindness, and you have +the most prominent traits of one of the most lovely and fascinating +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_475" id="Page_475">475</a></span> +women I have ever seen. Remembering her talents and +her rank, and the unenvying admiration she receives from the +world of fashion and genius, it would be difficult to reconcile her +lot to the "doctrine of compensation."</p> + +<p>There is one remark I may as well make here, with regard to +the personal descriptions and anecdotes with which my letters from +England will of course be filled. It is quite a different thing +from publishing such letters in London. America is much +farther off from England than England from America. You in +New York read the periodicals of this country, and know everything +that is done or written here, as if you lived within the sound +of Bow-bell. The English, however, just know of our existence, +and if they get a general idea twice a year of our progress in +politics, they are comparatively well informed. Our periodical +literature is never even heard of. Of course there can be no +offence to the individuals themselves in anything which a visitor +could write, calculated to convey an idea of the person or manners +of distinguished people to the American public. I mention it +lest, at first thought, I might seem to have abused the hospitality +or frankness of those on whom letters of introduction have given +me claims for civility. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_476" id="Page_476"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LXIX.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum">THE LITERATI OF LONDON.</p> + +<p>Spent my first day in London in wandering about the finest +part of the West End. It is nonsense to compare it to any other +city in the world. From the Horse-Guards to the Regent's Park +alone, there is more magnificence in architecture than in the whole +of any other metropolis in Europe, and I have seen the most and +the best of them. Yet this, though a walk of more than two +miles, is but a small part even of the fashionable extremity of +London. I am not easily tired in a city; but I walked till I +could scarce lift my feet from the ground, and still the parks and +noble streets extended before and around me as far as the eye +could reach, and strange as they were in reality, the names were +as familiar to me as if my childhood had been passed among +them. "Bond Street," "Grosvenor Square," "Hyde Park," +look new to my eye, but they sound very familiar to my ear.</p> + +<p>The equipages of London are much talked of, but they exceed +even description. Nothing can be more perfect, or apparently +more simple than the gentleman's carriage that passes you in the +street. Of a modest color, but the finest material, the crest just +visible on the panels, the balance of the body upon its springs, +true and easy, the hammercloth and liveries of the neatest and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_477" id="Page_477">477</a></span> +most harmonious colors, the harness slight and elegant, and the +horses "the only splendid thing" in the establishment—is a +description that answers the most of them. Perhaps the most +perfect thing in the world, however, is a St. James's-street +stanhope or cabriolet, with its dandy owner on the whip-seat, and +the "tiger" beside him. The attitudes of both the gentleman +and the "gentleman's gentleman" are studied to a point, but +nothing could be more knowing or exquisite than either. The +whole affair, from the angle of the bell-crowned hat (the prevailing +fashion on the steps of Crockford's at present), to the blood +legs of the thorough-bred creature in harness, is absolutely +faultless. I have seen many subjects for study in my first day's +stroll, but I leave the men and women and some other less important +features of London for maturer observation.</p> + +<p>In the evening I kept my appointment with Lady Blessington. +She had deserted her exquisite library for the drawing-room, and +sat, in fuller dress, with six or seven gentlemen about her. I +was presented immediately to all, and when the conversation was +resumed, I took the opportunity to remark the distinguished +coterie with which she was surrounded.</p> + +<p>Nearest me sat <i>Smith</i>, the author of "Rejected Addresses"—a +hale, handsome man, apparently fifty, with white hair, and a +very nobly-formed head and physiognomy. His eye alone, small +and with lids contracted into an habitual look of drollery, betrayed +the bent of his genius. He held a cripple's crutch in his hand, +and though otherwise rather particularly well dressed, wore a +pair of large India rubber shoes—the penalty he was paying, +doubtless, for the many good dinners he had eaten. He played +rather an <i>aside</i> in the conversation, whipping in with a quiz or a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_478" id="Page_478">478</a></span> +witticism whenever he could get an opportunity, but more a +listener than a talker.</p> + +<p>On the opposite side of Lady B. stood Henry Bulwer, the +brother of the novelist, very earnestly engaged in a discussion of +some speech of O'Connell's. He is said by many to be as +talented as his brother, and has lately published a book on the +present state of France. He is a small man, very slight and +gentleman-like, a little pitted with the small-pox, and of very +winning and persuasive manners. I liked him at the first glance.</p> + +<p>His opponent in the argument was Fonblanc, the famous editor +of the Examiner, said to be the best political writer of his day. +I never saw a much worse face—sallow, seamed and hollow, his +teeth irregular, his skin livid, his straight black hair uncombed +and straggling over his forehead—he looked as if he might be the +gentleman</p> + +<p class="blockquot"> +Whose "coat was red, and whose breeches were blue." +</p> + +<p>A hollow, croaking voice, and a small, fiery black eye, with a +smile like a skeleton's, certainly did not improve his physiognomy. +He sat upon his chair very awkwardly, and was very +ill-dressed, but every word he uttered, showed him to be a man +of claims very superior to exterior attractions. The soft musical +voice, and elegant manner of the one, and the satirical, sneering +tone and angular gestures of the other, were in very strong +contrast.</p> + +<p>A German prince, with a star on his breast, trying with all his +might, but, from his embarrassed look, quite unsuccessfully, to +comprehend the drift of the argument, the Duke de Richelieu, +whom I had seen at the court of France, the inheritor of nothing +but the name of his great ancestor, a dandy and a fool, making +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_479" id="Page_479">479</a></span> +no attempt to listen, a famous traveller just returned from +Constantinople; and the splendid person of Count D'Orsay in a +careless attitude upon the ottoman, completed the <i>cordon</i>.</p> + +<p>I fell into conversation after a while with Smith, who, supposing +I might not have heard the names of the others, in the hurry +of an introduction, kindly took the trouble to play the dictionary, +and added a graphic character of each as he named him. Among +other things he talked a great deal of America, and asked me if +I knew our distinguished countryman, Washington Irving. I had +never been so fortunate as to meet him. "You have lost a +great deal," he said, "for never was so delightful a fellow. I +was once taken down with him into the country by a merchant, +to dinner. Our friend stopped his carriage at the gate of his +park, and asked us if we would walk through his grounds to the +house. Irving refused and held me down by the coat, so that +we drove on to the house together, leaving our host to follow +on foot. 'I make it a principle,' said Irving, 'never to walk +with a man through his own grounds. I have no idea of praising +a thing whether I like it or not. You and I will do them to-morrow +morning by ourselves.'" The rest of the company had +turned their attention to Smith as he began his story, and there +was a universal inquiry after Mr. Irving. Indeed the first +question on the lips of every one to whom I am introduced as an +American, are of him and Cooper. The latter seems to me to +be admired as much here as abroad, in spite of a common +impression that he dislikes the nation. No man's works could +have higher praise in the general conversation that followed, +though several instances were mentioned of his having shown an +unconquerable aversion to the English when in England. Lady +Blessington mentioned Mr. Bryant, and I was pleased at the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_480" id="Page_480">480</a></span> +immediate tribute paid to his delightful poetry by the talented +circle around her.</p> + +<p>Toward twelve o'clock, "Mr. Lytton Bulwer" was announced, +and enter the author of Pelham. I had made up my mind how +he <i>should</i> look, and between prints and descriptions thought I +could scarcely be mistaken in my idea of his person. No two +things could be more unlike, however, than the ideal Mr. Bulwer +in my mind and the real Mr. Bulwer who followed the announcement. +<i>Imprimis</i>, the gentleman who entered was not handsome. +I beg pardon of the boarding-schools—but he really <i>was not</i>. +The engraving of him published some time ago in America is as +much like any other man living, and gives you no idea of his +head whatever. He is short, very much bent in the back, +slightly knock-kneed, and, if my opinion in such matters goes +for anything, as ill-dressed a man for a gentleman, as you will +find in London. His figure is slight and very badly put together, +and the only commendable point in his person, as far as I could +see, was the smallest foot I ever saw a man stand upon. <i>Au +reste</i>, I liked his manners extremely. He ran up to Lady Blessington, +with the joyous heartiness of a boy let out of school; +and the "how d'ye, Bulwer!" went round, as he shook hands +with everybody, in the style of welcome usually given to "the +best fellow in the world." As I had brought a letter of introduction +to him from a friend in Italy, Lady Blessington introduced +me particularly, and we had a long conversation about Naples +and its pleasant society.</p> + +<p>Bulwer's head is phrenologically a fine one. His forehead +retreats very much, but is very broad and well marked, and the +whole air is that of decided mental superiority. His nose is +aquiline, and far too large for proportion, though he conceals its +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_481" id="Page_481">481</a></span> +extreme prominence by an immense pair of red whiskers, which +entirely conceal the lower part of his face in profile. His complexion +is fair, his hair profuse, curly, and of a light auburn, his +eye not remarkable, and his mouth contradictory, I should think, +of all talent. A more good-natured, habitually-smiling, nerveless +expression could hardly be imagined. Perhaps my impression is +an imperfect one, as he was in the highest spirits, and was not +serious the whole evening for a minute—but it is strictly and +faithfully <i>my impression</i>.</p> + +<p>I can imagine no style of conversation calculated to be more +agreeable than Bulwer's. Gay, quick, various, half-satirical, and +always fresh and different from everybody else, he seemed to talk +because he could not help it, and infected everybody with his +spirits. I can not give even the substance of it in a letter, +for it was in a great measure local or personal. A great deal of +fun was made of a proposal by Lady Blessington to take Bulwer +to America and show him at so much a head. She asked me +whether I thought it would be a good speculation. I took upon +myself to assure her ladyship, that, provided she played <i>showman</i> +the "concern," as they would phrase it in America, would be +certainly a profitable one. Bulwer said he would rather go in +disguise and hear them abuse his books. It would be pleasant, +he thought, to hear the opinions of people who judged him neither +as a member of parliament nor a dandy—simply a book-maker. +Smith asked him if he kept an amanuensis. "No," he said, "I +scribble it all out myself, and send it to the press in a most +ungentlemanlike hand, half print and half hieroglyphic, with all +its imperfections on its head, and correct in the proof—very +much to the dissatisfaction of the publisher, who sends me in a +bill of sixteen pounds six shillings and fourpence for extra corrections. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_482" id="Page_482">482</a></span> +Then I am free to confess I don't know grammar. Lady +Blessington, do you know grammar? I detest grammar. There +never was such a thing heard of before Lindley Murray. I +wonder what they did for grammar before his day! Oh, the +delicious blunders one sees when they are irretrievable! And +the best of it is, the critics never get hold of them. Thank +Heaven for second editions, that one may scratch out his blots, +and go down clean and gentleman-like to posterity!" Smith +asked him if he had ever reviewed one of his own books. "No—but +I <i>could</i>! And then how I should like to recriminate and +defend myself indignantly! I think I could be preciously +severe. Depend upon it nobody knows a book's defects half so +well as its author. I have a great idea of criticising my works +for my posthumous memoirs. Shall I, Smith? Shall I, Lady +Blessington?"</p> + +<p>Bulwer's voice, like his brother's, is exceedingly lover-like and +sweet. His playful tones are quite delicious, and his clear laugh +is the soul of sincere and careless merriment.</p> + +<p>It is quite impossible to convey in a letter scrawled literally, +between the end of a late visit and a tempting pillow, the +evanescent and pure spirit of a conversation of wits. I must +confine myself, of course, in such sketches, to the mere sentiment +of things that concern general literature and ourselves.</p> + +<p>"The Rejected Addresses" got upon his crutches about three +o'clock in the morning, and I made my exit with the rest, +thanking Heaven, that, though in a strange country, my mother +tongue was the language of its men of genius. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_483" id="Page_483"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LXX.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +LONDON—VISIT TO A RACE-COURSE—GIPSIES—THE PRINCESS +VICTORIA—SPLENDID APPEARANCE OF THE ENGLISH NOBILITY—A +BREAKFAST WITH ELIA AND BRIDGET ELIA—MYSTIFICATION—CHARLES +LAMB'S OPINION OF AMERICAN AUTHORS.</p> + +<p>I have just returned from <i>Ascot races</i>. Ascot Heath, on +which the course is laid out, is a high platform of land, beautifully +situated on a hill above Windsor Castle, about twenty-five +miles from London. I went down with a party of gentlemen in +the morning and returned at evening, doing the distance, with +relays of horses in something less than three hours. This, one +would think, is very fair speed, but we were passed continually +by the "bloods" of the road, in comparison with whom we +seemed getting on rather at a snail's pace.</p> + +<p>The scenery on the way was truly English—one series of +finished landscapes, of every variety of combination. Lawns, +fancy-cottages, manor-houses, groves, roses and flower-gardens +make up England. It surfeits the eye at last. You could not +drop a poet out of the clouds upon any part of it I have seen, +where, within five minutes' walk, he would not find himself in +Paradise. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_484" id="Page_484">484</a></span></p> + +<p>We flew past Virginia Water and through the sun-flecked +shades of Windsor Park, with the speed of the wind. On +reaching the Heath, we dashed out of the road, and cutting +through fern and brier, our experienced whip put his wheels on +the rim of the course, as near the stands as some thousands of +carriages arrived before us would permit, and then, cautioning us +to take the bearings of our position, lest we should lose him after +the race, he took off his horses, and left us to choose our own +places.</p> + +<p>A thousand red and yellow flags were flying from as many +snowy tents in the midst of the green heath; ballad-singers and +bands of music were amusing their little audiences in every +direction; splendid markees covering gambling-tables, surrounded +the winning-post; groups of country people were busy in every +bush, eating and singing, and the great stands were piled with +row upon row of human heads waiting anxiously for the exhilarating +contest.</p> + +<p>Soon after we arrived, the King and royal family drove up the +course with twenty carriages, and scores of postillions and outriders +in red and gold, flying over the turf as majesty flies in no +other country; and, immediately after, the bell rang to clear the +course for the race. <i>Such</i> horses! The earth seemed to fling +them off as they touched it. The lean jockeys, in their party-colored +caps and jackets, rode the fine-limbed, slender creatures +up and down together, and then returning to the starting-post, off +they shot like so many arrows from the bow.</p> + +<p><i>Whiz!</i> you could tell neither color nor shape as they passed +across the eye. Their swiftness was incredible. A horse of Lord +Chesterfield's was rather the favorite; and for the sake of his great-grandfather, +I had backed him with my small wager, "Glaucus is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_485" id="Page_485">485</a></span> +losing," said some one on the top of a carriage above me, but +round they swept again, and I could just see that one glorious +creature was doubling the leaps of every other horse, and in a +moment Glaucus and Lord Chesterfield had won.</p> + +<p>The course between the races is a promenade of some +thousands of the best-dressed people in England. I thought I had +never seen so many handsome men and women, but particularly +<i>men</i>. The nobility of this country, unlike every other, is by far +the manliest and finest looking class of its population. The +<i>contadini</i> of Rome, the <i>lazzaroni</i> of Naples, the <i>paysans</i> of +France, are incomparably more handsome than their superiors in +rank, but it is strikingly different here. A set of more elegant +and well-proportioned men than those pointed out to me by my +friends as the noblemen on the course, I never saw, except only +in Greece. The Albanians are seraphs to look at.</p> + +<p>Excitement is hungry, and, after the first race, our party produced +their baskets and bottles, and spreading out the cold pie +and champaign upon the grass, between the wheels of the +carriages, we drank Lord Chesterfield's health and ate for our +own, in an <i>al fresco</i> style worthy of Italy. Two veritable Bohemians, +brown, black-eyed gipsies, the models of those I had seen +in their wicker tents in Asia, profited by the liberality of the +hour, and came in for an upper crust to a pigeon pie, that, to tell +the truth, they seemed to appreciate.</p> + +<p>Race followed race, but I am not a contributor to the Sporting +Magazine, and could not give you their merits in comprehensible +terms if I were.</p> + +<p>In one of the intervals, I walked under the King's stand, and +saw Her Majesty, the Queen, and the young Princess Victoria, +very distinctly. They were listening to a ballad-singer, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_486" id="Page_486">486</a></span> +leaning over the front of the box with an amused attention, quite +as sincere, apparently, as any beggar's in the ring. The Queen +is the plainest woman in her dominions, beyond a doubt. The +Princess is much better-looking than the pictures of her in the +shops, and, for the heir to such a crown as that of England, +quite unnecessarily pretty and interesting. She will be sold, +poor thing—bartered away by those great dealers in royal hearts, +whose grand calculations will not be much consolation to her, if +she happens to have a taste of her own.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>[The following sketch was written a short time previous to the +death of Charles Lamb.]</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p> +Invited to breakfast with a gentleman in the temple to meet +Charles Lamb and his sister—"Elia and Bridget Elia." I never +in my life had an invitation more to my taste. The essays of +Elia are certainly the most charming things in the world, +and it has been for the last ten years, my highest compliment +to the literary taste of a friend to present him with a copy. +Who has not smiled over the humorous description of Mrs. +Battle? Who that has read Elia would not give more to see +him than all the other authors of his time put together?</p> + +<p>Our host was rather a character. I had brought a letter of +introduction to him from Walter Savage Landor, the author of +Imaginary Conversations, living at Florence, with a request that +he would put me in the way of seeing one or two men about whom +I had a curiosity, Lamb more particularly. I could not have +been recommended to a better person. Mr. R. is a gentleman +who, everybody says, <i>should have been</i> an author, but who never +wrote a book. He is a profound German scholar, has travelled +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_487" id="Page_487">487</a></span> +much, is the intimate friend of Southey, Coleridge, and Lamb, +has breakfasted with Goëthe, travelled with Wordsworth through +France and Italy, and spends part of every summer with him, +and knows everything and everybody that is distinguished—in +short, is, in his bachelor's chambers in the temple, the friendly +nucleus of a great part of the talent of England.</p> + +<p>I arrived a half hour before Lamb, and had time to learn +some of his peculiarities. He lives a little out of London, and +is very much of an invalid. Some family circumstances have +tended to depress him very much of late years, and unless excited +by convivial intercourse, he scarce shows a trace of what he was. +He was very much pleased with the American reprint of his +Elia, though it contains several things which are not his—written +so in his style, however, that it is scarce a wonder the editor +should mistake them. If I remember right, they were "Valentine's +Day," the "Nuns of Caverswell," and "Twelfth Night." +He is excessively given to mystifying his friends, and is never so +delighted as when he has persuaded some one into the belief of +one of his grave inventions. His amusing biographical sketch of +Liston was in this vein, and there was no doubt in anybody's +mind that it was authentic, and written in perfectly good faith. +Liston was highly enraged with it, and Lamb was delighted in +proportion.</p> + +<p>There was a rap at the door at last, and enter a gentleman in +black small-clothes and gaiters, short and very slight in his +person, his head set on his shoulders with a thoughtful, forward +bent, his hair just sprinkled with gray, a beautiful, deep-set eye, +aquiline nose, and a very indescribable mouth. Whether it +expressed most humor or feeling, good nature or a kind of whimsical +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_488" id="Page_488">488</a></span> +peevishness, or twenty other things which passed over it by +turns, I can not in the least be certain.</p> + +<p>His sister, whose literary reputation is associated very closely +with her brother's, and who, as the original of "Bridget Elia," +is a kind of object for literary affection, came in after him. She +is a small, bent figure, evidently a victim to illness, and hears +with difficulty. Her face has been, I should think, a fine and +handsome one, and her bright gray eye is still full of intelligence +and fire. They both seemed quite at home in our friend's chambers, +and as there was to be no one else, we immediately drew +round the breakfast table. I had set a large arm chair for Miss +Lamb. "Don't take it, Mary," said Lamb, pulling it away from +her very gravely, "it appears as if you were going to have a tooth +drawn."</p> + +<p>The conversation was very local. Our host and his guest had +not met for some weeks, and they had a great deal to say of +their mutual friends. Perhaps in this way, however, I saw more +of the author, for his manner of speaking of them and the quaint +humor with which he complained of one, and spoke well of +another was so in the vein of his inimitable writings, that I could +have fancied myself listening to an audible composition of a new +Elia. Nothing could be more delightful than the kindness and +affection between the brother and the sister, though Lamb was +continually taking advantage of her deafness to mystify her with +the most singular gravity upon every topic that was started. +"Poor Mary!" said he, "she hears all of an epigram but the +point." "What are you saying of me, Charles?" she asked. +"Mr. Willis," said he, raising his voice, "admires <i>your Confessions +of a Drunkard</i> very much, and I was saying that it was no +merit of yours, that you understood the subject." We had been +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_489" id="Page_489">489</a></span> +speaking of this admirable essay (which is his own), half an hour +before.</p> + +<p>The conversation turned upon literature after a while, and our +host, the templar, could not express himself strongly enough in +admiration of Webster's speeches, which he said were exciting +the greatest attention among the politicians and lawyers of England. +Lamb said, "I don't know much of American authors. +Mary, there, devours Cooper's novels with a ravenous appetite, +with which I have no sympathy. The only American book I +ever read twice, was the 'Journal of Edward Woolman,' a +quaker preacher and tailor, whose character is one of the finest +I ever met with. He tells a story or two about negro slaves that +brought the tears into my eyes. I can read no prose now, though +Hazlitt sometimes, to be sure—but then Hazlitt is worth all +modern prose writers put together."</p> + +<p>Mr. R. spoke of buying a book of Lamb's, a few days before, +and I mentioned my having bought a copy of Elia the last day I +was in America, to send as a parting gift to one of the most +lovely and talented women in our country.</p> + +<p>"What did you give for it?" said Lamb.</p> + +<p>"About seven and sixpence."</p> + +<p>"Permit me to pay you that," said he, and with the utmost +earnestness he counted out the money upon the table.</p> + +<p>"I never yet wrote anything that would sell," he continued. +"I am the publisher's ruin. My last poem won't sell a copy. +Have you seen it, Mr. Willis?"</p> + +<p>I had not.</p> + +<p>"It's only eighteen pence, and I'll give you sixpence toward +it;" and he described to me where I should find it sticking up in +a shop-window in the Strand. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_490" id="Page_490">490</a></span></p> + +<p>Lamb ate nothing, and complained in a querulous tone of the +veal pie. There was a kind of potted fish (of which I forget the +name at this moment), which he had expected our friend would +procure for him. He inquired whether there was not a morsel +left perhaps in the bottom of the last pot. Mr. R. was not sure.</p> + +<p>"Send and see," said Lamb, "and if the pot has been +cleaned, bring me the cover. I think the sight of it would do +me good."</p> + +<p>The cover was brought, upon which there was a picture of the +fish. Lamb kissed it with a reproachful look at his friend, and +then left the table and began to wander round the room with a +broken, uncertain step, as if he almost forgot to put one leg +before the other. His sister rose after a while, and commenced +walking up and down, very much in the same manner, on the +opposite side of the table, and in the course of half an hour they +took their leave.</p> + +<p>To any one who loves the writings of Charles Lamb with but +half my own enthusiasm, even these little particulars of an hour +passed in his company, will have an interest. To him who does +not, they will seem dull and idle. Wreck as he certainly is, and +must be, however, of what he was, I would rather have seen him +for that single hour, than the hundred and one sights of London +put together.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_491" id="Page_491"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LXXI.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +DINNER AT LADY BLESSINGTON'S—BULWER, D'ISRAELI, PROCTER, +FONBLANC, ETC.—ECCENTRICITIES OF BECKFORD, AUTHOR OF +VATHEK—D'ISRAELI'S EXTRAORDINARY TALENT AT DESCRIPTION.</p> + +<p>Dined at Lady Blessington's, in company with several authors, +three or four noblemen, and a clever exquisite or two. The +authors were Bulwer, the novelist, and his brother, the statist; +Procter (better known as Barry Cornwall), D'Israeli, the author +of Vivian Grey; and Fonblanc, of the Examiner. The principal +nobleman was Lord Durham, and the principal exquisite (though +the word scarce applies to the magnificent scale on which nature +has made him, and on which he makes himself), was Count +D'Orsay. There were plates for twelve.</p> + +<p>I had never seen Procter, and, with my passionate love for his +poetry, he was the person at table of the most interest to me. +He came late, and as twilight was just darkening the drawing-room, +I could only see that a small man followed the announcement, +with a remarkably timid manner, and a very white forehead.</p> + +<p>D'Israeli had arrived before me, and sat in the deep window, +looking out upon Hyde Park, with the last rays of daylight +reflected from the gorgeous gold flowers of a splendidly embroidered +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_492" id="Page_492">492</a></span> +waistcoat. Patent leather pumps, a white stick, with a +black cord and tassel, and a quantity of chains about his neck +and pockets, served to make him, even in the dim light, rather a +conspicuous object.</p> + +<p>Bulwer was very badly dressed, as usual, and wore a flashy +waistcoat of the same description as D'Israeli's. Count D'Orsay +was very splendid, but very undefinable. He seemed showily +dressed till you looked to particulars, and then it seemed only a +simple thing, well fitted to a very magnificent person. Lord +Albert Conyngham was a dandy of common materials; and my +Lord Durham, though he looked a young man, if he passed for a +lord at all in America, would pass for a very ill-dressed one.</p> + +<p>For Lady Blessington, she is one of the most handsome, and, +quite the best-dressed woman in London; and, without farther +description, I trust the readers of the Mirror will have little +difficulty in imagining a scene that, taking a wild American into +the account, was made up of rather various material.</p> + +<p>The blaze of lamps on the dinner table was very favorable to +my curiosity, and as Procter and D'Israeli sat directly opposite +me, I studied their faces to advantage. Barry Cornwall's forehead +and eye are all that would strike you in his features. His +brows are heavy; and his eye, deeply sunk, has a quick, restless +fire, that would have arrested my attention, I think, had I not +known he was a poet. His voice has the huskiness and elevation +of a man more accustomed to think than converse, and it was +never heard except to give a brief and very condensed opinion, +or an illustration, admirably to the point, of the subject under +discussion. He evidently felt that he was only an observer in the +party.</p> + +<p>D'Israeli has one of the most remarkable faces I ever saw. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493">493</a></span> +He is lividly pale, and but for the energy of his action and the +strength of his lungs, would seem a victim to consumption. His +eye is black as Erebus, and has the most mocking and lying-in-wait +sort of expression conceivable. His mouth is alive with +a kind of working and impatient nervousness, and when he has +burst forth, as he does constantly, with a particularly successful +cataract of expression, it assumes a curl of triumphant scorn that +would be worthy of a Mephistopheles. His hair is as extraordinary +as his taste in waistcoats. A thick heavy mass of jet black +ringlets falls over his left cheek almost to his collarless stock, +while on the right temple it is parted and put away with the +smooth carefulness of a girl's, and shines most unctiously,</p> + +<p class="blockquot"> +"With thy incomparable oil, Macassar!" +</p> + +<p>The anxieties of the first course, as usual, kept every mouth +occupied for a while, and then the dandies led off with a discussion +of Count D'Orsay's rifle match (he is the best rifle-shot in +England), and various matters as uninteresting to transatlantic +readers. The new poem, Philip Van Artevald's, came up after a +while, and was very much over-praised (<i>me judice</i>). Bulwer +said, that as the author was the principle writer for the Quarterly +Review, it was a pity it was first praised in that periodical, and +praised so unqualifiedly. Procter said nothing about it, and I +respected his silence; for, as a poet, he must have felt the +poverty of the poem, and was probably unwilling to attack a new +aspirant in his laurels.</p> + +<p>The next book discussed was Beckford's Italy, or rather the +next author, for the <i>writer</i> of Vathek is more original, and more +talked of than his books, and just now occupies much of the +attention of London. Mr. Beckford has been all his life enormously +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_494" id="Page_494">494</a></span> +rich, has luxuriated in every country with the fancy of a +poet, and the refined splendor of a Sybarite, was the admiration +of Lord Byron, who visited him at Cintra, was the owner of +Fonthill, and, <i>plus fort encore</i>, his is one of the oldest families in +England. What could such a man attempt that would not be +considered extraordinary!</p> + +<p>D'Israeli was the only one at table who knew him, and the +style in which he gave a sketch of his habits and manners, was +worthy of himself. I might as well attempt to gather up the +foam of the sea, as to convey an idea of the extraordinary language +in which he clothed his description. There were, at +least, five words in every sentence that must have been very +much astonished at the use they were put to, and yet no others +apparently, could so well have conveyed his idea. He talked +like a race-horse approaching the winning-post, every muscle in +action, and the utmost energy of expression flung out in every +burst. It is a great pity he is not in parliament.<a name="FNanchor_11" id="FNanchor_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a></p> + +<p>The particulars he gave of Beckford, though stripped of his +gorgeous digressions and parentheses, may be interesting. He +lives now at Bath, where he has built a house on two sides of the +street, connected by a covered bridge <i>a la Ponte de Sospiri</i>, at +Venice. His servants live on one side, and he and his sole companion +on the other. This companion is a hideous dwarf, who +imagines himself, or is, a Spanish duke; and Mr. Beckford for +many years has supported him in a style befitting his rank, treats +him with all the deference due to his title, and has, in general, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_495" id="Page_495">495</a></span> +no other society (I should not wonder, myself, if it turned out to +be a woman); neither of them is often seen, and when in London, +Mr. Beckford is only to be approached through his man of business. +If you call, he is not at home. If you would leave a +card or address him a note, his servant has strict orders not to +take in anything of the kind. At Bath, he has built a high +tower, which is a great mystery to the inhabitants. Around the +interior, to the very top, it is lined with books, approachable +with a light spiral staircase; and in the pavement below, the +owner has constructed a double crypt for his own body, and that +of his dwarf companion, intending, with a desire for human +neighborhood which has not appeared in his life, to leave the +library to the city, that all who enjoy it shall pass over the bodies +below.</p> + +<p>Mr. Beckford thinks very highly of his own books, and talks +of his early production (Vathek), in terms of unbounded admiration. +He speaks slightingly of Byron, and of his praise, and +affects to despise utterly the popular taste. It appeared altogether, +from D'Israeli's account, that he is a splendid egotist, +determined to free life as much as possible from its usual fetters, +and to enjoy it to the highest degree of which his genius, backed +by an immense fortune, is capable. He is reputed, however, to +be excessively liberal, and to exercise his ingenuity to contrive +secret charities in his neighborhood.</p> + +<p>Victor Hugo and his extraordinary novels came next under +discussion; and D'Israeli, who was fired with his own eloquence, +started off, <i>apropos des bottes</i>, with a long story of an empalement +he had seen in Upper Egypt. It was as good, and perhaps +as authentic, as the description of the chow-chow-tow in Vivian +Grey. He had arrived at Cairo on the third day after the man +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_496" id="Page_496">496</a></span> +was transfixed by two stakes from hip to shoulder, and he was +still alive! The circumstantiality of the account was equally +horrible and amusing. Then followed the sufferer's history, with +a score of murders and barbarities, heaped together like Martin's +Feast of Belshazzer, with a mixture of horror and splendor, that +was unparalleled in my experience of improvisation. No mystic +priest of the Corybantes could have worked himself up into a +finer phrensy of language.</p> + +<p>Count D'Orsay kept up, through the whole of the conversation +and narration, a running fire of witty parentheses, half French +and half English; and with champaign in all the pauses, the +hours flew on very dashingly. Lady Blessington left us toward +midnight, and then the conversation took a rather political turn, +and something was said of O'Connell. D'Israeli's lips were +playing upon the edge of a champaign glass, which he had just +drained, and off he shot again with a description of an interview +he had had with the agitator the day before, ending in a story of +an Irish dragoon who was killed in the peninsula. His name was +Sarsfield. His arm was shot off, and he was bleeding to death. +When told that he could not live, he called for a large silver +goblet, out of which he usually drank his claret. He held it to +the gushing artery and filled it to the brim with blood, looked at +it a moment, turned it out slowly upon the ground, muttering to +himself, "If that had been shed for old Ireland!" and expired. +You can have no idea how thrillingly this little story was told. +Fonblanc, however, who is a cold political satirist, could see +nothing in a man's "decanting his claret," that was in the least +sublime, and so Vivian Grey got into a passion, and for a while +was silent.</p> + +<p>Bulwer asked me if there was any distinguished literary American +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_497" id="Page_497">497</a></span> +in town. I said, Mr. Slidell one of our best writers, was +here.</p> + +<p>"Because," said he, "I received, a week or more ago, a letter +of introduction by some one from Washington Irving. It lay on +the table, when a lady came in to call on my wife, who seized +upon it as an autograph, and immediately left town, leaving me +with neither name nor address."</p> + +<p>There was a general laugh and a cry of "Pelham! Pelham!" +as he finished his story. Nobody chose to believe it.</p> + +<p>"I think the name <i>was</i> Slidell," said Bulwer.</p> + +<p>"Slidell!" said D'Israeli, "I owe him two-pence, by Jove!" +and he went on in his dashing way to narrate that he had sat +next Mr. Slidell at a bull-fight in Seville, that he wanted to buy +a fan to keep off the flies, and having nothing but doubloons in +his pocket, Mr. S. had lent him a small Spanish coin to that +value, which he owed him to this day.</p> + +<p>There was another general laugh, and it was agreed that on +the whole the Americans were "<i>done</i>."</p> + +<p>Apropos to this, D'Israeli gave us a description in a gorgeous, +burlesque, galloping style, of a Spanish bull-fight; and when we +were nearly dead with laughing at it, some one made a move, and +we went up to Lady Blessington in the drawing-room. Lord +Durham requested her ladyship to introduce him, particularly, to +D'Israeli (the effect of his eloquence). I sat down in the corner +with Sir Martin Shee, the president of the Royal Academy, and +had a long talk about Allston and Harding and Cole, whose pictures +he knew; and "somewhere in the small hours," we took +our leave, and Procter left me at my door in Cavendish street +weary, but in a better humor with the world than usual. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_498" id="Page_498"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LXXII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +THE ITALIAN OPERA—MADEMOISELLE GRISI—A GLANCE AT LORD +BROUGHAM—MRS. NORTON AND LORD SEFTON—RAND, THE AMERICAN +PORTRAIT PAINTER—AN EVENING PARTY AT BULWER'S—PALMY +STATE OF LITERATURE IN MODERN DAYS—FASHIONABLE +NEGLECT OF FEMALES—PERSONAGES PRESENT—SHIEL THE ORATOR, +THE PRINCE OF MOSCOWA, MRS. LEICESTER STANHOPE, THE +CELEBRATED BEAUTY, ETC., ETC.</p> + +<p>Went to the opera to hear Julia Grisi. I stood out the first +act in the pit, and saw instances of rudeness in "Fop's-alley," +which I had never seen approached in three years on the continent. +The high price of tickets, one would think, and the +necessity of appearing in full dress, would keep the opera clear +of low-bred people; but the conduct to which I refer seemed to +excite no surprise and passed off without notice, though, in +America, there would have been ample matter for at least, four +duels.</p> + +<p>Grisi is young, very pretty, and an admirable actress—three +great advantages to a singer. Her voice is under absolute command, +and she manages it beautifully, but it wants the infusion of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_499" id="Page_499">499</a></span> +Malibran. You merely feel that Grisi is an accomplished artist, +while Malibran melts all your criticism into love and admiration. +I am easily moved by music, but I came away without much +enthusiasm for the present passion of London.</p> + +<p>The opera-house is very different from those on the continent. +The stage only is lighted abroad, the single lustre from the ceiling +just throwing that <i>clair obscure</i> over the boxes, so favorable to +Italian complexions and morals. Here, the dress circles are +lighted with bright chandeliers, and the whole house sits in such +a blaze of light as leaves no approach even, to a lady, unseen. +The consequence is that people here dress much more, and the +opera, if less interesting to the <i>habitué</i>, is a gayer thing to the +many.</p> + +<p>I went up to Lady Blessington's box for a moment, and found +Strangways, the traveller, and several other distinguished men +with her. Her ladyship pointed out to me Lord Brougham, flirting +desperately with a pretty woman on the opposite side of the +house, his mouth going with the convulsive twitch which so disfigures +him, and his most unsightly of pug-noses in the strongest +relief against the red lining behind. There never was a plainer +man. The Honorable Mrs. Norton, Sheridan's daughter, and +poetess, sat nearer to us, looking like a queen, certainly one of +the most beautiful women I ever looked upon; and the gastronomic +and humpbacked Lord Sefton, said to be the best judge of +cookery in the world, sat in the "dandy's omnibus," a large box +on a level with the stage, leaning forward with his chin on his +knuckles, and waiting with evident impatience for the appearance +of Fanny Elssler in the <i>ballet</i>. Beauty and all, the English +opera-house surpasses anything I have seen in the way of a +spectacle. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_500" id="Page_500">500</a></span></p> + +<p>An evening party at Bulwer's. Not yet perfectly initiated in +London hours, I arrived, not far from eleven, and found Mrs. +Bulwer alone in her illuminated rooms, whiling away an expectant +hour in playing with a King Charles spaniel, that seemed by his +fondness and delight to appreciate the excessive loveliness of his +mistress. As far off as America, I may express, even in print, +an admiration which is no heresy in London.</p> + +<p>The author of Pelham is a younger son and depends on his +writings for a livelihood, and truly, measuring works of fancy by +what they will bring, (not an unfair standard perhaps), a glance +around his luxurious and elegant rooms is worth reams of puff in +the quarterlies. He lives in the heart of the fashionable quarter +of London, where rents are ruinously extravagant, entertains a +great deal, and is expensive in all his habits, and for this pay +Messrs. Clifford, Pelham, and Aram—(it would seem), most +excellent good bankers. As I looked at the beautiful woman +seated on the costly ottoman before me, waiting to receive the +rank and fashion of London, I thought that old close-fisted +literature never had better reason for his partial largess. I half +forgave the miser for starving a wilderness of poets.</p> + +<p>One of the first persons who came was Lord Byron's sister, a +thin, plain, middle-aged woman, of a very serious countenance, and +with very cordial and pleasing manners. The rooms soon filled, +and two professed singers went industriously to work in their +vocation at the piano; but, except one pale man, with staring +hair, whom I took to be a poet, nobody pretended to listen.</p> + +<p>Every second woman has some strong claim to beauty in +England, and the proportion of those who just miss it, by a hair's +breadth as it were—who seem really to have been meant for +beauties by nature, but by a slip in the moulding or pencilling +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_501" id="Page_501">501</a></span> +are imperfect copies of the design—is really extraordinary. One +after another entered, as I stood near the door with my old +friend Dr. Bowring for a nomenclator, and the word "lovely" or +"charming," had not passed my lips before some change in the +attitude, or unguarded animation had exposed the flaw, and the +hasty homage (for homage it is, and an idolatrous one, that we +pay to the beauty of woman), was coldly and unsparingly retracted. +From a goddess upon earth to a slighted and unattractive +trap for matrimony is a long step, but taken on so slight a defect +sometimes, as, were they marble, a sculptor would etch away with +his nail.</p> + +<p>I was surprised (and I have been struck with the same thing +at several parties I have attended in London), at the neglect with +which the female part of the assemblage is treated. No young +man ever seems to dream of speaking to a lady, except to ask her +to dance. There they sit with their mamas, their hands hung over +each other before them in the received attitude; and if there +happens to be no dancing (as at Bulwer's), looking at a print, or +eating an ice, is for them the most enlivening circumstance of the +evening. As well as I recollect, it is better managed in America, +and certainly society is quite another thing in France and +Italy. Late in the evening a charming girl, who is the reigning +belle of Naples, came in with her mother from the opera, and I +made the remark to her. "I detest England for that very +reason," she said frankly. "It is the fashion in London for the +young men to prefer everything to the society of women. They +have their clubs, their horses, their rowing matches, their hunting +and betting, and everything else is a <i>bore</i>! How different are +the same men at Naples! They can never get enough of one +there! We are surrounded and run after, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_502" id="Page_502">502</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"> +<p class="o2">"'Our poodle dog is quite adored,</p> +<p>Our sayings are extremely quoted,'</p> +</div> + +<p>"and really, one feels that one <i>is</i> a belle." She mentioned several +of the beaux of last winter who had returned to England. "Here +I have been in London a month, and these very men that were +dying for me, at my side every day on the <i>Strada Nuova</i>, and +all but fighting to dance three times with me of an evening, have +only left their cards! Not because they care less about me, but +because it is 'not the fashion'—it would be talked of at the club, +it is 'knowing' to let us alone."</p> + +<p>There were only three men in the party, which was a very +crowded one, who could come under the head of <i>beaux</i>. Of the +remaining part, there was much that was distinguished, both for +rank and talent. Sheil, the Irish orator, a small, dark, deceitful, +but talented-looking man, with a very disagreeable squeaking +voice, stood in a corner, very earnestly engaged in conversation +with the aristocratic old Earl of Clarendon. The contrast between +the styles of the two men, the courtly and mild elegance +of one, and the uneasy and half-bred, but shrewd earnestness of +the other, was quite a study. Fonblanc of the Examiner, with +his pale and dislocated-looking face, stood in the door-way +between the two rooms, making the amiable with a ghastly +smile to Lady Stepney. The 'bilious Lord Durham,' as the +papers call him, with his Brutus head, and grave, severe countenance, +high-bred in his appearance, despite the worst possible +coat and trowsers, stood at the pedestal of a beautiful statue, +talking politics with Bowring; and near them, leaned over a +chair the Prince Moscowa, the son of Marshal Ney, a plain, but +determined-looking young man, with his coat buttoned up to his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_503" id="Page_503">503</a></span> +throat, unconscious of everything but the presence of the Honorable +Mrs. Leicester Stanhope, a very lovely woman, who was +enlightening him in the prettiest English French, upon some +point of national differences. Her husband, famous as Lord +Byron's companion in Greece, and a great liberal in England, +was introduced to me soon after by Bulwer; and we discussed +the Bank and the President, with a little assistance from Bowring, +who joined us with a paean for the old general and his +measures, till it was far into the morning. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_504" id="Page_504"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LXXIII.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +BREAKFAST WITH BARRY CORNWALL—LUXURY OF THE FOLLOWERS +OF THE MODERN MUSE—BEAUTY OF THE DRAMATIC +SKETCHES GAINS PROCTOR A WIFE—HAZLITT'S EXTRAORDINARY +TASTE FOR THE PICTURESQUE IN WOMEN—COLERIDGE'S +OPINION OF CORNWALL.</p> + +<p>Breakfasted with Mr. Procter (known better as Barry +Cornwall). I gave a partial description of this most delightful +of poets in a former letter. In the dazzling circle of rank and +talent with which he was surrounded at Lady Blessington's, however, +it was difficult to see so shrinkingly modest a man to +advantage, and with the exception of the keen gray eye, living +with thought and feeling, I should hardly have recognised him, at +home, for the same person.</p> + +<p>Mr. Procter is a barrister; and his "whereabout" is more +like that of a lord chancellor than a poet proper. With the +address he had given me at parting, I drove to a large house in +Bedford square; and, not accustomed to find the children of the +Muses waited on by servants in livery, I made up my mind as I +walked up the broad staircase, that I was blundering upon some +Mr. Procter of the exchange, whose respect for his poetical +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_505" id="Page_505">505</a></span> +namesake, I hoped would smooth my apology for the intrusion. +Buried in a deep morocco chair, in a large library, notwithstanding, +I found the poet himself—choice old pictures, filling every +nook between the book-shelves, tables covered with novels and +annuals, rolls of prints, busts and drawings in all corners; and, +more important for the nonce, a breakfast table at the poet's +elbow, spicily set forth, not with flowers or ambrosia, the canonical +food of rhymers, but with cold ham and ducks, hot rolls and +butter, coffee-pot and tea-urn—as sensible a breakfast, in short, +as the most unpoetical of men could desire.</p> + +<p>Procter is indebted to his poetry for a very charming wife, the +daughter of Basil Montague, well known as a collector of choice +literature, and the friend and patron of literary men. The +exquisite beauty of the Dramatic Sketches interested this lovely +woman in his favor before she knew him, and, far from worldly-wise +as an attachment so grounded would seem, I never saw two +people with a more habitual air of happiness. I thought of his +touching song,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<p class="o1">"How many summers, love,</p> +<p>Hast thou been mine?"</p> +</div> + +<p>and looked at them with an inexpressible feeling of envy. A +beautiful girl, of eight or nine years, the "golden-tressed Adelaide," +delicate, gentle and pensive, as if she was born on the lip +of Castaly, and knew she was a poet's child, completed the picture +of happiness.</p> + +<p>The conversation ran upon various authors, whom Procter had +known intimately—Hazlitt, Charles Lamb, Keats, Shelley, and +others, and of all he gave me interesting particulars, which I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_506" id="Page_506">506</a></span> +could not well repeat in a public letter. The account of Hazlitt's +death-bed, which appeared in one of the magazines, he said was +wholly untrue. This extraordinary writer was the most reckless +of men in money matters, but he had a host of admiring friends +who knew his character, and were always ready to assist him. +He was a great admirer of the picturesque in women. He was +one evening at the theatre with Procter, and pointed out to him +an Amazonian female, strangely dressed in black velvet and lace, +but with no beauty that would please an ordinary eye. "Look +at her!" said Hazlitt, "isn't she fine!—isn't she magnificent? +Did you ever see anything more Titianesque?"<a name="FNanchor_12" id="FNanchor_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a></p> + +<p>After breakfast, Procter took me into a small closet adjoining +his library, in which he usually writes. There was just room +enough in it for a desk and two chairs, and around were piled in +true poetical confusion, his favorite books, miniature likenesses +of authors, manuscripts, and all the interesting lumber of a true +poet's corner. From a drawer, very much thrust out of the way, +he drew a volume of his own, into which he proceeded to write +my name—a collection of songs, published since I have been in +Europe, which I had never seen. I seized upon a worn copy of +the Dramatic Sketches, which I found crossed and interlined in +every direction. "Don't look at them," said Procter, "they are +wretched things, which should never have been printed, or at least +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_507" id="Page_507">507</a></span> +with a world of correction. You see how I have mended them; +and, some day, perhaps, I will publish a corrected edition, since +I can not get them back." He took the book from my hand, and +opened to "The Broken Heart," certainly the most highly-finished +and exquisite piece of pathos in the language, and read +it to me with his alterations. It was to "gild refined gold, and +paint the lily." I would recommend to the lovers of Barry +Cornwall, to keep their original copy, beautifully as he has +polished his lines anew.</p> + +<p>On a blank leaf of the same copy of the Dramatic Sketches, I +found some indistinct writing in pencil, "Oh! don't read that," +said Procter, "the book was given me some years ago, by a friend +at whose house Coleridge had been staying, for the sake of the +criticisms that great man did me the honor to write at the end." +I insisted on reading them, however, and his wife calling him out +presently, I succeeded in copying them in his absence. He +seemed a little annoyed, but on my promising to make no use of +them in England, he allowed me to retain them. They are as +follows:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p> +"Barry Cornwall is a poet, <i>me saltem judice</i>, and in that sense of the word, +in which I apply it to Charles Lamb and W. Wordsworth. There are +poems of great merit, the authors of which, I should not yet feel impelled +so to designate.</p> + +<p>"The faults of these poems are no less things of hope than the beauties. +Both are just what they ought to be: i. e. <i>now</i>.</p> + +<p>"If B. C. be faithful to his genius, it in due time will warn him that as +poetry is the identity of all other knowledge, so a poet can not be a great +poet, but as being likewise and inclusively an historian and a naturalist in +the light as well as the life of philosophy. All other men's worlds are his +chaos. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_508" id="Page_508">508</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hints—Not to permit delicacy and exquisiteness to seduce into effeminacy.</p> + +<p>"Not to permit beauties by repetition to become mannerism.</p> + +<p>"To be jealous of fragmentary composition as epicurism of genius—apple-pie +made all of quinces.</p> + +<p>"Item. That dramatic poetry must be poetry hid in thought and passion, +not thought or passion hid in the dregs of poetry.</p> + +<p>"Lastly, to be economic and withholding in similes, figures, etc. They +will all find their place sooner or later, each in the luminary of a sphere of +its own. There can be no galaxy in poetry, because it is language, <i>ergo</i>, successive, +<i>ergo</i> every the smallest star must be seen singly.</p> + +<p>"There are not five metrists in the kingdom whose works are known by +me, to whom I could have held myself allowed to speak so plainly; but B. +C. is a man of genius, and it depends on himself (<i>competence protecting him +from gnawing and distracting cares</i>), to become a rightful poet—i. e. a great +man.</p> + +<p>"Oh, for such a man; worldly prudence is transfigured into the high spiritual +duty. How generous is self-interest in him, whose true self is all that +is good and hopeful in all ages as far as the language of Spenser, Shakspeare, +and Milton, is the mother tongue.</p> + +<p>"A map of the road to Paradise, drawn in Purgatory on the confines of +Hell, by S. T. C. July 30, 1819."</p> +</div> + +<p>I took my leave of this true poet after half a day passed in +his company, with the impression that he makes upon every one—of +a man whose sincerity and kind-heartedness were the +most prominent traits in his character. Simple in his language +and feelings, a fond father, an affectionate husband, businessman +of the closest habits of industry—one reads his strange +imaginations, and passionate, high-wrought, and even sublimated +poetry, and is in doubt at which most to wonder—the man as he +is, or the poet as we know him in his books. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_509" id="Page_509"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LXXIV.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +AN EVENING AT LADY BLESSINGTON'S—ANECDOTES OF MOORE, +THE POET—TAYLOR, THE PLATONIST—POLITICS—ELECTION OF +SPEAKER—PRICES OF BOOKS.</p> + +<p>I am obliged to "gazette" Lady Blessington rather more than +I should wish, and more than may seem delicate to those, who do +not know the central position she occupies in the circle of talent +in London. Her soirées and dinner-parties, however, are literally +the single and only assemblages of men of genius, without reference +to party—the only attempt at a republic of letters in the +world of this great, envious, and gifted metropolis. The pictures +of literary life, in which my countrymen would be most interested, +therefore, are found within a very small compass, presuming +them to prefer the brighter side of an eminent character, +and presuming them (<i>is</i> it a presumption?), not to possess that +appetite for degrading the author to the man, by an anatomy of +his secret personal failings, which is lamentably common in England. +Having premised thus much, I go on with my letter.</p> + +<p>I drove to Lady Blessington's an evening or two since, with +the usual certainty of finding her at home, as there was no opera, +and the equal certainty of finding a circle of agreeable and eminent +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_510" id="Page_510">510</a></span> +men about her. She met me with the information that +Moore was in town, and an invitation to dine with her whenever +she should be able to prevail upon "the little Bacchus" to give +her a day. D'Israeli, the younger, was there, and Dr. Beattie, +the king's physician (and author, unacknowledged, of "The +Heliotrope"), and one or two fashionable young noblemen.</p> + +<p>Moore was naturally the first topic. He had appeared at the +opera the night before, after a year's ruralizing at "Sloperton +cottage," as fresh and young and witty as he ever was known in +his youth—(for Moore must be sixty at least). Lady B. said +the only difference she could see in his appearance, was the loss of +his curls, which once justified singularly his title of Bacchus, +flowing about his head in thin, glossy, elastic tendrils, unlike any +other hair she had ever seen, and comparable to nothing but the +rings of the vine. He is now quite bald, and the change is very +striking. D'Israeli regretted that he should have been met, +exactly on his return to London, with the savage but clever article +in Fraser's Magazine on his plagiarisms. "Give yourself no +trouble about that," said Lady B., "for you may be sure he will +never see it. Moore guards against the sight and knowledge of +criticism as people take precautions against the plague. He +reads few periodicals, and but one newspaper. If a letter comes +to him from a suspicious quarter, he burns it unopened. If a +friend mentions a criticism to him at the club, he never forgives +him; and, so well is this understood among his friends, that he +might live in London a year, and all the magazines might dissect +him, and he would probably never hear of it. In the country he +lives on the estate of Lord Lansdowne, his patron and best +friend, with half a dozen other noblemen within a dinner-drive, +and he passes his life in this exclusive circle, like a bee in amber, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_511" id="Page_511">511</a></span> +perfectly preserved from everything that could blow rudely upon +him. He takes the world <i>en philosophe</i>, and is determined to +descend to his grave perfectly ignorant, if such things as critics +exist." Somebody said this was weak, and D'Israeli thought it +was wise, and made a splendid defence of his opinion, as usual, +and I agreed with D'Israeli. Moore deserves a medal, as the +happiest author of his day, to possess the power.</p> + +<p>A remark was made, in rather a satirical tone, upon Moore's +worldliness and passion for rank. "He was sure," it was said, +"to have four or five invitations to dine on the same day, and he +tormented himself with the idea that he had not accepted +perhaps the most exclusive. He would get off from an engagement +with a Countess to dine with a Marchioness, and from a +Marchioness to accept the later invitation of a Duchess; and as +he cared little for the society of men, and would sing and be +delightful only for the applause of women, it mattered little +whether one circle was more talented than another. Beauty +was one of his passions, but rank and fashion were all the rest." +This rather left-handed portrait was confessed by all to be just, +Lady B. herself making no comment upon it. She gave, as an +offset, however, some particulars of Moore's difficulties from his +West Indian appointment, which left a balance to his credit.</p> + +<p>"Moore went to Jamaica with a profitable appointment. The +climate disagreed with him, and he returned home, leaving the +business in the hands of a confidential clerk, who embezzled +eight thousand pounds in the course of a few months and +absconded. Moore's politics had made him obnoxious to the +government, and he was called to account with unusual severity; +while Theodore Hook, who had been recalled at this very time +from some foreign appointment, for a deficit of twenty thousand +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_512" id="Page_512">512</a></span> +pounds in his accounts, was never molested, being of the ruling +party, Moore's misfortune awakened a great sympathy among +his friends. Lord Lansdowne was the first to offer his aid. He +wrote to Moore, that for many years he had been in the habit of +laying aside from his income eight thousand pounds, for the +encouragement of the arts and literature, and that he should feel +that it was well disposed of for that year, if Moore would accept +it, to free him from his difficulties. It was offered in the most +delicate and noble manner, but Moore declined it. The members +of "White's" (mostly noblemen) called a meeting, and (not +knowing the amount of the deficit) subscribed in one morning +twenty-five thousand pounds and wrote to the poet, that they +would cover the sum, whatever it might be. This was declined. +Longman and Murray then offered to pay it, and wait for their +remuneration from his works. He declined even this, and went +to Passy with his family, where he economized and worked hard +till it was cancelled."</p> + +<p>This was certainly a story most creditable to the poet, and it +was told with an eloquent enthusiasm, that did the heart of the +beautiful narrator infinite credit. I have given only the skeleton +of it. Lady Blessington went on to mention another circumstance, +very honorable to Moore, of which I had never before +heard. "At one time two different counties of Ireland had sent +committees to him, to offer him a seat in parliament; and as he +depended on his writings for a subsistence, offering him at the +same time twelve hundred pounds a year, while he continued to +represent them. Moore was deeply touched with it, and said no +circumstance of his life had ever gratified him so much. He +admitted, that the honor they proposed him had been his most +cherished ambition, but the necessity of receiving a pecuniary +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_513" id="Page_513">513</a></span> +support at the same time, was an insuperable obstacle. He could +never enter parliament with his hands tied, and his opinions and +speech fettered, as they would be irresistibly in such circumstances." +This does not sound like "jump-up-and-kiss-me Tom +Moore," as the Irish ladies call him; but her ladyship vouched +for the truth of it. It was worthy of an old Roman.</p> + +<p>By what transition I know not, the conversation turned on Platonism, +and D'Israeli, (who seemed to have remembered the shelf +on which Vivian Grey was to find "the latter Platonists" in his +father's library) "flared up," as a dandy would say, immediately. +His wild, black eyes glistened, and his nervous lips quivered and +poured out eloquence; and a German professor, who had entered +late, and the Russian Chargé d'affaires who had entered later, +and a whole ottoman-full of noble exquisites, listened with +wonder. He gave us an account of Taylor, almost the last of +the celebrated Platonists, who worshipped Jupiter, in a back +parlor in London a few years ago, with undoubted sincerity. He +had an altar and a brazen figure of the Thunderer, and performed +his devotions as regularly as the most pious <i>sacerdos</i> of the +ancients. In his old age he was turned out of the lodgings he +had occupied for a great number of years, and went to a friend +in much distress to complain of the injustice. He had "only +attempted to worship his gods, according to the dictates of his +conscience." "Did you pay your bills?" asked the friend. +"Certainly." "Then what is the reason?" "His landlady +had taken offence at his <i>sacrificing a bull to Jupiter in his back +parlor</i>!"</p> + +<p>The story sounded very Vivian-Greyish, and everybody laughed +at it as a very good invention; but D'Israeli quoted his father as +his authority, and it may appear in the Curiosities of Literature—where, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_514" id="Page_514">514</a></span> +however, it will never be so well told, as by the extraordinary +creature from whom we had heard it.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p><i>February 22d, 1835.</i>—The excitement in London about the +choice of a Speaker is something startling. It took place yesterday, +and the party are thunderstruck at the non-election of Sir +Manners Sutton. This is a terrible blow upon them, for it was +a defeat at the outset; and if they failed in a question where +they had the immense personal popularity of the late Speaker to +assist them, what will they do on general questions? The House +of Commons was surrounded all day with an excited mob. +Lady —— told me last night that she drove down toward +evening, to ascertain the result (Sir C. M. Sutton is her brother-in-law), +and the crowd surrounded her carriage, recognizing her +as the sister of the tory Speaker, and threatened to tear the coronet +from the panels. "We'll soon put an end to your coronets," +said a rapscallion in the mob. The tories were so confident of +success that Sir Robert Peel gave out cards a week ago, for a +soirée to meet Speaker Sutton, on the night of the election. +There is a general report in town that the whigs will impeach the +Duke of Wellington! This looks like a revolution, does it not? +It is very certain that the Duke and Sir Robert Peel have +advised the King to dissolve parliament again, if there is any +difficulty in getting on with the government. The Duke was +dining with Lord Aberdeen the other day, when some one at table +ventured to wonder, at his accepting a subordinate office in the +cabinet he had himself formed. "If I could serve his majesty +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_515" id="Page_515">515</a></span> +better," said the patrician soldier, "I would ride as king's messenger +to-morrow!" He certainly is a remarkable old fellow.</p> + +<p>Perhaps, however, literary news would interest you more. +Bulwer is publishing in a volume, his papers from the New +Monthly. I met him an hour ago in Regent-street, looking +what is called in London, "<i>uncommon seedy</i>!" He is either +the worst or the best dressed man in London, according to the +time of day or night you see him. D'Israeli, the author of +Vivian Grey, drives about in an open carriage, with Lady S——, +looking more melancholy than usual. The absent baronet, +whose place he fills, is about bringing an action against him, +which will finish his career, unless he can coin the damages in +his brain. Mrs. Hemans is dying of consumption in Ireland. I +have been passing a week at a country house, where Miss Jane +Porter, Miss Pardoe, and Count Krazinsky (author of the Court +of Sigismund), are domiciliated for the present. Miss Porter is +one of her own heroines, grown old—a still handsome and noble +wreck of beauty. Miss Pardoe is nineteen, fair-haired, sentimental, +and has the smallest feet and is the best waltzer I ever +saw, but she is not otherwise pretty. The Polish Count is +writing the life of his grandmother, whom I should think he +strongly resembled in person. He is an excellent fellow, for all +that. I dined last week with Joanna Baillie, at Hampstead—the +most charming old lady I ever saw. To-day I dine with Longman +to meet Tom Moore, who is living <i>incog.</i> near this Nestor of +publishers at Hampstead. Moore is fagging hard on his history +of Ireland. I shall give you the particulars of all these things in +my letters hereafter.</p> + +<p>Poor Elia—my old favorite—is dead. I consider it one of the +most fortunate things that ever happened to me, to have seen him. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_516" id="Page_516">516</a></span> +I think I sent you in one of my letters an account of my breakfasting +in company with Charles Lamb and his sister ("Bridget +Elia") at the Temple. The exquisite papers on his life and +letters in the Athenæum, are by Barry Cornwall.</p> + +<p>Lady Blessington's new book makes a great noise. Living as +she does, twelve hours out of the twenty-four, in the midst of the +most brilliant and mind-exhausting circle in London, I only wonder +how she found the time. Yet it was written in six weeks. +Her novels sell for a hundred pounds more than any other author's +except Bulwer. Do you know the <i>real</i> prices of books? Bulwer +gets <i>fifteen</i> hundred pounds—Lady B. <i>four</i> hundred, Honorable +Mrs. Norton <i>two</i> hundred and fifty, Lady Charlotte Bury <i>two</i> +hundred, Grattan <i>three</i> hundred and most others below this. +D'Israeli can not sell a book <i>at all</i>, I hear. Is not that odd? +I would give more for one of his novels, than for forty of the +common <i>saleable</i> things about town.</p> + +<p>The authoress of the powerful book called Two Old Men's +Tales, is an old unitarian lady, a Mrs. Marsh. She declares she +will never write another book. The other was a glorious one, +though! +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_517" id="Page_517"></a></span></p> + +<h3>LETTER LXXV.</h3> + +<p class="ch_sum"> +LONDON—THE POET MOORE—LAST DAYS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT—MOORE'S +OPINION OF O'CONNELL—ANACREON AT THE PIANO—DEATH +OF BYRON—A SUPPRESSED ANECDOTE.</p> + +<p>I called on Moore with a letter of introduction, and met him +at the door of his lodgings. I knew him instantly from the pictures +I had seen of him, but was surprised at the diminutiveness +of his person. He is much below the middle size, and with his +white hat and long chocolate frock-coat, was far from prepossessing +in his appearance. With this material disadvantage, +however, his address is gentleman-like to a very marked degree, +and, I should think no one could see Moore without conceiving a +strong liking for him. As I was to meet him at dinner, I did not +detain him. In the moment's conversation that passed, he +inquired very particularly after Washington Irving, expressing +for him the warmest friendship, and asked what Cooper was +doing.</p> + +<p>I was at Lady Blessington's at eight. Moore had not arrived, +but the other persons of the party—a Russian count, who spoke +all the languages of Europe as well as his own; a Roman banker, +whose dynasty is more powerful than the pope's; a clever English +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_518" id="Page_518">518</a></span> +nobleman, and the "observed of all observers," Count D'Orsay, +stood in the window upon the park, killing, as they might, the +melancholy twilight half hour preceding dinner.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moore!" cried the footman at the bottom of the staircase, +"Mr. Moore!" cried the footman at the top. And with his +glass at his eye, stumbling over an ottoman between his near-sightedness +and the darkness of the room, enter the poet. Half +a glance tells you that he is at home on a carpet. Sliding his +little feet up to Lady Blessington (of whom he was a lover when +she was sixteen, and to whom some of the sweetest of his songs +were written), he made his compliments, with a gayety and an +ease combined with a kind of worshipping deference, that was +worthy of a prime-minister at the court of love. With the gentlemen, +all of whom he knew, he had the frank merry manner of a +confident favorite, and he was greeted like one. He went from +one to the other, straining back his head to look up at them (for, +singularly enough, every gentleman in the room was six feet high +and upward), and to every one he said something which, from +any one else, would have seemed peculiarly felicitous, but which +fell from his lips, as if his breath was not more spontaneous.</p> + +<p>Dinner was announced, the Russian handed down "milady," +and I found myself seated opposite Moore, with a blaze of light +on his Bacchus head, and the mirrors, with which the superb +octagonal room is pannelled, reflecting every motion. To see +him only at table, you would think him not a small man. His +principal length is in his body, and his head and shoulders are +those of a much larger person. Consequently he <i>sits tall</i>, and +with the peculiar erectness of head and neck, his diminutiveness +disappears.</p> + +<p>The soup vanished in the busy silence that beseems it, and as +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_519" id="Page_519">519</a></span> +the courses commenced their procession, Lady Blessington led the +conversation with the brilliancy and ease, for which she is remarkable +over all the women of her time. She had received from Sir +William Gell, at Naples, the manuscript of a volume upon the +last days of Sir Walter Scott. It was a melancholy chronicle of +imbecility, and the book was suppressed, but there were two or +three circumstances narrated in its pages which were interesting. +Soon after his arrival at Naples, Sir Walter went with his +physician and one or two friends to the great museum. It +happened that on the same day a large collection of students and +Italian literati were assembled, in one of the rooms, to discuss +some newly-discovered manuscripts. It was soon known that the +"Wizard of the North" was there, and a deputation was sent +immediately, to request him to honor them by presiding at their +session. At this time Scott was a wreck, with a memory that +retained nothing for a moment, and limbs almost as helpless as +an infant's. He was dragging about among the relics of Pompeii, +taking no interest in anything he saw, when their request was +made known to him through his physician. "No, no," said he, +"I know nothing of their lingo. Tell them I am not well enough +to come." He loitered on, and in about half an hour after, he +turned to Dr. H. and said, "who was that you said wanted to see +me?" The doctor explained. "I'll go," said he, "they shall +see me if they wish it;" and, against the advice of his friends, +who feared it would be too much for his strength, he mounted +the staircase, and made his appearance at the door. A burst of +enthusiastic cheers welcomed him on the threshold, and forming +in two lines, many of them on their knees, they seized his hands +as he passed, kissed them, thanked him in their passionate +language for the delight with which he had filled the world, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_520" id="Page_520">520</a></span> +placed him in the chair with the most fervent expressions of +gratitude for his condescension. The discussion went on, but not +understanding a syllable of the language, Scott was soon wearied, +and his friends observed it, pleaded the state of his health as an +apology, and he rose to take his leave. These enthusiastic +children of the south crowded once more around him, and with +exclamations of affection and even tears, kissed his hands once +more, assisting his tottering steps, and sent after him a confused +murmur of blessings as the door closed on his retiring form. It +is described by the writer as the most affecting scene he had ever +witnessed.</p> + +<p>Some other remarks were made upon Scott, but the <i>parole</i> was +soon yielded to Moore, who gave us an account of a visit he made +to Abbotsford when its illustrious owner was in his pride and +prime. "Scott," he said, "was the most manly and natural +character in the world. You felt when with him, that he was +the soul of truth and heartiness. His hospitality was as simple +and open as the day, and he lived freely himself, and expected +his guests to do so. I remember him giving us whiskey at +dinner, and Lady Scott met my look of surprise with the +assurance that Sir Walter seldom dined without it. He never +ate or drank to excess, but he had no system, his constitution +was herculean, and he denied himself nothing. I went once from +a dinner party with Sir Thomas Lawrence to meet Scott at +Lockhart's. We had hardly entered the room when we were set +down to a hot supper of roast chickens, salmon, punch, etc., etc., +and Sir Walter ate immensely of everything. What a contrast +between this and the last time I saw him in London! He had +come down to embark for Italy—broken quite down in mind and +body. He gave Mrs. Moore a book, and I asked him if he would +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_521" id="Page_521">521</a></span> +make it more valuable by writing in it. He thought I meant +that he should write some verses, and said, 'Oh I never write +poetry now.' I asked him to write only his own name and hers, +and he attempted it, but it was quite illegible."</p> + +<p>Some one remarked that Scott's life of Napoleon was a failure.</p> + +<p>"I think little of it," said Moore; "but after all, it was an +embarrassing task, and Scott did what a wise man would do—made +as much of his subject as was politic and necessary, and no +more."</p> + +<p>"It will not live," said some one else; "as much because it is +a bad book, as because it is the life of an individual."</p> + +<p>"But <i>what</i> an individual!" Moore replied. "Voltaire's life +of Charles the Twelfth was the life of an individual, yet that will +live and be read as long as there is a book in the world, and +what was he to Napoleon?"</p> + +<p>O'Connell was mentioned.</p> + +<p>"He is a powerful creature," said Moore, "but his eloquence +has done great harm both to England and Ireland. There is +nothing so powerful as oratory. The faculty of '<i>thinking on his +legs</i>,' is a tremendous engine in the hands of any man. There is +an undue admiration for this faculty, and a sway permitted to it, +which was always more dangerous to a country than anything else. +Lord Althorp is a wonderful instance of what a man may do +<i>without</i> talking. There is a general confidence in him—a +universal belief in his honesty, which serves him instead. Peel +is a fine speaker, but, admirable as he had been as an oppositionist, +he failed, when he came to lead the house. O'Connell would +be irresistible were it not for the two blots on his character—the +contributions in Ireland for his support, and his refusal to give +satisfaction to the man he is still coward enough to attack. They +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_522" id="Page_522">522</a></span> +may say what they will of duelling, it is the great preserver of the +decencies of society. The old school, which made a man responsible +for his words, was the better. I must confess I think so. +Then, in O'Connell's case, he had not made his vow against +duelling when Peel challenged him. He accepted the challenge, +and Peel went to Dover on his way to France, where they were +to meet; and O'Connell pleaded his wife's illness, and delayed till +the law interfered. Some other Irish patriot, about the same +time, refused a challenge on account of the illness of his daughter, +and one of the Dublin wits made a good epigram on the two:—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<p class="o2">"'Some men, with a horror of slaughter,</p> +<p class="i1">Improve on the scripture command,</p> +<p>And 'honor their'——wife and daughter—</p> +<p class="i1">That their days may be long in the land.'</p> +</div> + +<p>"The great period of Ireland's glory was between '82 and '98, +and it was a time when a man almost lived with a pistol in his +hand. Grattan's dying advice to his son, was, 'Be always ready +with the pistol!' He, himself never hesitated a moment. At +one time, there was a kind of conspiracy to fight him out of the +world. On some famous question, Corrie was employed purposely +to bully him, and made a personal attack of the grossest +virulence. Grattan was so ill, at the time, as to be supported +into the house between two friends. He rose to reply; and first, +without alluding to Corrie at all, clearly and entirely overturned +every argument he had advanced, that bore upon the question. +He then paused a moment, and stretching out his arm, as if he +would reach across the house, said, 'For the assertions the +gentleman has been pleased to make with regard to myself, my +answer <i>here</i>, is <i>they are false</i>! elsewhere, it would be—<i>a blow!</i> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_523" id="Page_523">523</a></span> +They met, and Grattan shot him through the arm. Corrie +proposed another shot, but Grattan said, 'No! let the curs fight +it out!' and they were friends ever after. I like the old story of +the Irishman, who was challenged by some desperate blackguard. +'Fight <i>him</i>!' said he, 'I would sooner go to my grave without a +fight! Talking of Grattan, is it not wonderful that, with all the +agitation in Ireland, we have had no such men since his time? +Look at the Irish newspapers. The whole country in convulsions—people's +lives, fortunes, and religion, at stake, and not a gleam +of talent from one year's end to the other. It is natural for +sparks to be struck out in a time of violence, like this—but +Ireland, for all that is worth living for, <i>is dead</i>! You can +scarcely reckon Shiel of the calibre of her spirits of old, and +O'Connell, with all his faults, stands 'alone in his glory.'"</p> + +<p>The conversation I have thus run together is a mere skeleton, +of course. Nothing but a short-hand report could retain the +delicacy and elegance of Moore's language, and memory itself +cannot embody again the kind of frost-work of imagery, which +was formed and melted on his lips. His voice is soft or firm as +the subject requires, but perhaps the word <i>gentlemanly</i> describes +it better than any other. It is upon a natural key, but, if I may +so phrase it, it is <i>fused</i> with a high-bred affectation, expressing +deference and courtesy, at the same time, that its pauses are +constructed peculiarly to catch the ear. It would be difficult not +to attend to him while he is talking, though the subject were but +the shape of a wine-glass.</p> + +<p>Moore's head is distinctly before me while I write, but I shall +find it difficult to describe. His hair, which curled once all over +it in long tendrils, unlike anybody else's in the world, and which +probably suggested his <i>sobriquet</i> of "Bacchus," is diminished +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_524" id="Page_524">524</a></span> +now to a few curls sprinkled with gray, and scattered in a single +ring above his ears. His forehead is wrinkled, with the exception +of a most prominent development of the organ of gayety, which, +singularly enough, shines with the lustre and smooth polish of a +pearl, and is surrounded by a semicircle of lines drawn close +about it, like entrenchments against Time. His eyes still sparkle +like a champaign bubble, though the invader has drawn his +pencillings about the corners; and there is a kind of wintry red, +of the tinge of an October leaf, that seems enamelled on his +cheek, the eloquent record of the claret his wit has brightened. +His mouth is the most characteristic feature of all. The lips are +delicately cut, slight and changeable as an aspen; but there is a +set-up look about the lower lip, a determination of the muscle to +a particular expression, and you fancy that you can almost see +wit astride upon it. It is written legibly with the imprint of +habitual success. It is arch, confident, and half diffident, as if he +were disguising his pleasure at applause, while another bright +gleam of fancy was breaking on him. The slightly-tossed nose +confirms the fun of the expression, and altogether it is a face that +sparkles, beams, radiates,—everything but <i>feels</i>. Fascinating +beyond all men as he is, Moore looks like a worldling.</p> + +<p>This description may be supposed to have occupied the hour +after Lady Blessington retired from the table; for, with her, +vanished Moore's excitement, and everybody else seemed to feel, +that light had gone out of the room. Her excessive beauty is +less an inspiration than the wondrous talent with which she +draws from every person around her his peculiar excellence. +Talking better than anybody else, and narrating, particularly, +with a graphic power that I never saw excelled, this distinguished +woman seems striving only to make others unfold themselves; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_525" id="Page_525">525</a></span> +and never had diffidence a more apprehensive and encouraging +listener. But this is a subject with which I should never be +done.</p> + +<p>We went up to coffee, and Moore brightened again over his +<i>chasse-café</i>, and went glittering on with criticisms on Grisi, the +delicious songstress now ravishing the world, whom he placed +above all but Pasta; and whom he thought, with the exception +that her legs were too short, an incomparable creature. This +introduced music very naturally, and with a great deal of difficulty +he was taken to the piano. My letter is getting long, and I +have no time to describe his singing. It is well known, however, +that its effect is only equalled by the beauty of his own words; +and, for one, I could have taken him into my heart with my +delight. He makes no attempt at music. It is a kind of admirable +recitative, in which every shade of thought is syllabled and +dwelt upon, and the sentiment of the song goes through your +blood, warming you to the very eyelids, and starting your tears, +if you have soul or sense in you. I have heard of women's +fainting at a song of Moore's; and if the burden of it answered +by chance, to a secret in the bosom of the listener, I should +think, from its comparative effect upon so old a stager as myself, +that the heart would break with it.</p> + +<p>We all sat around the piano, and after two or three songs of +Lady Blessington's choice, he rambled over the keys awhile, and +sang "When first I met thee," with a pathos that beggars +description. When the last word had faltered out, he rose and +took Lady Blessington's hand, said good-night, and was gone +before a word was uttered. For a full minute after he had closed +the door, no one spoke. I could have wished, for myself, to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_526" id="Page_526">526</a></span> +drop silently asleep where I sat, with the tears in my eyes and the +softness upon my heart.</p> + +<p class="blockquot"> +"Here's a health to thee, Tom Moore!" +</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I was in company the other evening where Westmacott, the +sculptor, was telling a story of himself and Leigh Hunt. They +were together one day at Fiesole, when a butterfly, of an uncommon +sable color, alighted on Westmacott's forehead, and remained +there several minutes. Hunt immediately cried out, "The spirit +of some dear friend is departed," and as they entered the gate of +Florence on their return, some one met them and informed them +of the death of Byron, the news of which had at that moment +arrived.</p> + +<hr class="l15" /> + +<p>I have just time before the packet sails to send you an anecdote, +that is <i>bought out</i> of the London papers. A nobleman, +living near Belgrave square, received a visit a day or two ago +from a police officer, who stated to him, that he had a man-servant +in his house, who had escaped from Botany Bay. His +Lordship was somewhat surprised, but called up the male part of +his household, at the officer's request, and passed them in review. +The culprit was not among them. The officer then requested to +see the <i>female</i> part of the establishment; and, to the inexpressible +astonishment of the whole household, he laid his hand upon +the shoulder of the <i>lady's confidential maid</i>, and informed her she +was his prisoner. A change of dress was immediately sent for, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_527" id="Page_527">527</a></span> +and miladi's dressing-maid was re-metamorphosed into an effeminate-looking +fellow, and marched off to a new trial. It is a +most extraordinary thing, that he had lived unsuspected in the +family for nine months, performing all the functions of a confidential +Abigail, and very much in favor with his unsuspecting +mistress, who is rather a serious person, and would as soon have +thought of turning out to be a man herself. It is said, that the +husband once made a remark upon the huskiness of the maid's +voice, but no other comment was ever made, reflecting in the least +upon her qualities as a member of the <i>beau sexe</i>. The story is +quite authentic, but hushed up out of regard to the lady.</p> + +<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> +<div class="footnotes p6"> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> I remember hearing a friend receive a severe reproof from one of the +most enlightened men in our country, for offering his daughter an annual, +upon the cover of which was an engraving of these same "Graces."</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a></p> + +<div class="poem"> +<p class="fn">——"A long swept wave about to break,</p> +<p class="fn">And on the curl hangs pausing."</p> +</div> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_3" id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> On my way to Rome (near Radicofani, I think), we passed an old man, +whose picturesque figure, enveloped in his brown cloak and slouched hat, +arrested the attention of all my companions. I had seen him before. From +a five minutes' sketch in passing, Mr. Cole had made one of the most spirited +heads I ever saw, admirably like, and worthy of Caravaggio for force and +expression.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_4" id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> The name of a wooden frame by which a pot of coals is hung between +the sheets of a bed in Italy.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_5" id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> As if everything should be poetical on the shores of the Clitumnus, the +beggars ran after us in quartettes, singing a chaunt, and sustaining the four +parts as they ran. Every child sings well in Italy; and I have heard worse +music in a church anthem, than was made by these half-clothed and homeless +wretches, running at full speed by the carriage-wheels. I have never +met the same thing elsewhere.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_6" id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> The Tuscans, who are the best governed people in Italy, pay <i>twenty per +cent.</i> of their property in taxes—paying the whole value of their estates, of +course, in five years. The extortions of the priests, added to this, are +sufficiently burdensome.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_7" id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> So called in the catalogue. The custode, however, told us it was a portrait +of the wife of Vandyck, painted as an old woman to mortify her excessive +vanity, when she was but twenty-three. He kept the picture until she +was older, and, at the time of his death, it had become a flattering likeness, +and was carefully treasured by the widow.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_8" id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> The following description is given of this splendid palace, by Suetonius. +"To give an idea of the extent and beauty of this edifice, it is sufficient to +mention, that in its vestibule was placed his colossal statue, one hundred and +twenty feet in height. It had a triple portico, supported by a thousand +columns, with a lake like a little sea, surrounded by buildings which resembled +cities. It contained pasture-grounds and groves in which were all +descriptions of animals, wild and tame. Its interior shone with gold, gems, +and mother-of-pearl. In the vaulted roofs of the eating-rooms were +machines of ivory, which turned round and scattered perfumes upon the +guests. The principal banqueting room was a rotunda, so constructed that +it turned round night and day, in imitation of the motion of the earth." +When Nero took possession of this fairy palace, his only observation was—"Now +I shall begin to live like a man."</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_9" id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Mr. John Hone, of New York.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_10" id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> An interesting account of this ill-fated young lady, who was on the eve +of marriage, has appeared in the Mirror.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_11" id="Footnote_11" href="#FNanchor_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> I have been told that he stood once for a London borough. A coarse +fellow came up at the hustings, and said to him, "I should like to know on +what ground you stand here, sir?" "On my head, sir!" answered D'Israeli. +The populace had not read Vivian Grey, however, and he lost his election.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_12" id="Footnote_12" href="#FNanchor_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> The following story has been told me by another gentleman. Hazlitt +was married to an amiable woman, and divorced after a few years, at his +own request. He left London, and returned with another wife. The first +thing he did, was to send to his first wife to borrow five pounds! She had +not so much in the world, but she sent to a friend (the gentleman who told +me the story), borrowed it, and sent it to him! It seems to me there is a +whole drama in this single fact.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Pencillings by the Way, by N. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license + + +Title: Pencillings by the Way + Written During Some Years of Residence and Travel in Europe + +Author: N. Parker Willis + +Release Date: March 17, 2012 [EBook #39179] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PENCILLINGS BY THE WAY *** + + + + +Produced by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have + been preserved. The author's use of accents was retained as printed. + Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. + + Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. + + + + + PENCILLINGS BY THE WAY: + + WRITTEN + DURING SOME YEARS OF RESIDENCE AND TRAVEL + IN + EUROPE. + + BY + N. PARKER WILLIS. + + + NEW YORK: + CHARLES SCRIBNER, 124 GRAND STREET. + + MDCCCLX. + + + + + Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, by + CHARLES SCRIBNER, + + In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United + States for the Southern District of New York. + + + + +PREFACE. + + +A word or two of necessary explanation, dear reader. + +I had resided on the Continent for several years, and had been a year +in England, without being suspected, I believe, in the societies in +which I lived, of any habit of authorship. No production of mine had +ever crossed the water, and my Letters to the New-York Mirror, were +(for this long period, and I presumed would be forever), as far as +European readers were concerned, an unimportant and easy secret. +Within a few months of returning to this country, the Quarterly Review +came out with a severe criticism on the Pencillings by the Way, +published in the New-York Mirror. A London publisher immediately +procured a broken set of this paper from an American resident there, +and called on me with an offer of L300 for an immediate edition of +what he had--rather less than one half of the Letters in this present +volume. This chanced on the day before my marriage, and I left +immediately for Paris--a literary friend most kindly undertaking to +look over the proofs, and suppress what might annoy any one then +living in London. The book was printed in three volumes, at about $7 +per copy, and in this expensive shape three editions were sold by the +original publisher. After his death a duodecimo edition was put forth, +very beautifully illustrated; and this has been followed by a fifth +edition lately published, with new embellishments, by Mr. Virtue. The +only American edition (long ago out of print) was a literal copy of +this imperfect and curtailed book. + +In the present complete edition, the Letters objected to by the +Quarterly, are, like the rest, re-published _as originally written_. +The offending portions must be at any rate, harmless, after being +circulated extensively in this country in the Mirror, and prominently +quoted from the Mirror in the Quarterly--and this being true, I have +felt that I could gratify the wish to be put _fairly on trial_ for +these alleged offences--to have a comparison instituted between my +sins, in this respect, and Hamilton's, Muskau's, Von Raumer's, +Marryat's and Lockhart's--and so, to put a definite value and meaning +upon the constant and vague allusions to these iniquities, with which +the critiques of my contemporaries abound. I may state as a fact, that +the only instance in which a quotation by me from the conversation of +distinguished men gave the least offence in England, was the one +remark made by Moore the poet at a dinner party, on the subject of +O'Connell. It would have been harmless, as it was designed to be, but +for the unexpected celebrity of my Pencillings; yet with all my heart +I wished it unwritten. + +I wish to put on record in this edition (and you need not be at the +trouble of perusing them unless you please, dear reader!) an extract +or two from the London prefaces to "Pencillings," and parts of two +articles written apropos of the book's offences. + +The following is from the Preface to the first London edition:-- + +"The extracts from these Letters which have appeared in the public +prints, have drawn upon me much severe censure. Admitting its justice +in part, perhaps I may shield myself from its remaining excess by a +slight explanation. During several years' residence in Continental and +Eastern countries, I have had opportunities (as _attache_ to a foreign +Legation), of seeing phases of society and manners not usually +described in books of travel. Having been the Editor, before leaving +the United States, of a monthly Review, I found it both profitable and +agreeable, to continue my interest in the periodical in which that +Review was merged at my departure, by a miscellaneous correspondence. +Foreign courts, distinguished men, royal entertainments, &c. +&c.,--matters which were likely to interest American readers more +particularly--have been in turn my themes. The distance of America +from these countries, and the ephemeral nature and usual obscurity of +periodical correspondence, were a sufficient warrant to my mind, that +the descriptions would die where they first saw the light, and fulfil +only the trifling destiny for which they were intended. I indulged +myself, therefore, in a freedom of detail and topic which is usual +only in posthumous memoirs--expecting as soon that they would be read +in the countries and by the persons described, as the biographer of +Byron and Sheridan, that these fruitful and unconscious themes would +rise from the dead to read their own interesting memoirs! And such a +resurrection would hardly be a more disagreeable surprise to that +eminent biographer, than was the sudden appearance to me of my own +unambitious Letters in the Quarterly Review. + +"The reader will see (for every Letter containing the least personal +detail has been most industriously republished in the English papers) +that I have in some slight measure corrected these Pencillings by the +Way. They were literally what they were styled--notes written on the +road, and despatched without a second perusal; and it would be +extraordinary if, between the liberty I felt with my material, and the +haste in which I scribbled, some egregious errors in judgment and +taste had not crept in unawares. The Quarterly has made a long arm +over the water to refresh my memory on this point. There _are_ +passages I would not re-write, and some remarks on individuals which I +would recall at some cost, and would not willingly see repeated in +these volumes. Having conceded thus much, however, I may express my +surprise that this particular sin should have been visited upon _me_, +at a distance of three thousand miles, when the reviewer's own +literary fame rests on the more aggravated instance of a book of +personalities, published under the very noses of the persons +described. Those of my Letters which date from England were written +within three or four months of my first arrival in this country. +Fortunate in my introductions, almost embarrassed with kindness, and, +from advantages of comparison, gained by long travel, qualified to +appreciate keenly the delights of English society, I was little +disposed to find fault. Everything pleased me. Yet in one +instance--one single instance--I indulged myself in stricture upon +individual character, and I _repeat it in this work_, sure that there +will be but one person in the world of letters who will not read it +with approbation--the editor of the _Quarterly_ himself. It was +expressed at the time with no personal feeling, for I had never seen +the individual concerned, and my name had probably never reached his +ears. I but repeated what I had said a thousand times, and never +without an indignant echo to its truth--an opinion formed from the +most dispassionate perusal of his writings--that the editor of that +Review was the most unprincipled critic of his age. Aside from its +flagrant literary injustice, we owe to the _Quarterly_, it is well +known, every spark of ill-feeling that has been kept alive between +England and America for the last twenty years. The sneers, the +opprobrious epithets of this bravo in literature, have been received +in a country where the machinery of reviewing was not understood, as +the voice of the English people, and an animosity for which there was +no other reason, has been thus periodically fed and exasperated. I +conceive it to be my duty as a literary man--I _know_ it is my duty as +an American--to lose no opportunity of setting my heel on the head of +this reptile of criticism." + +The following is part of an article, written by myself, on the subject +of personalities, for a periodical in New York: + +"There is no question, I believe, that pictures of living society, +where society is in very high perfection, and of living persons, where +they are 'persons of mark,' are both interesting to ourselves, and +valuable to posterity. What would we not give for a description of a +dinner with Shakspeare and Ben Jonson--of a dance with the Maids of +Queen Elizabeth--of a chat with Milton in a morning call? We should +say the man was a churl, who, when he had the power, should have +refused to 'leave the world a copy' of such precious hours. Posterity +will decide who are the great of our time--but they are at least +_among_ those I have heard talk, and have described and quoted, and +who would read without interest, a hundred years hence, a character of +the second Virgin Queen, caught as it was uttered in a ball-room of +her time? or a description of her loveliest Maid of Honor, by one who +had stood opposite her in a dance, and wrote it before he slept? or a +conversation with Moore or Bulwer?--when the Queen and her fairest +maid, and Moore and Bulwer have had their splendid funerals, and are +dust, like Elizabeth and Shakspeare? + +"The harm, if harm there be in such sketches, is in the spirit in +which they are done. If they are ill-natured or untrue, or if the +author says aught to injure the feelings of those who have admitted +him to their confidence or hospitality, he is to blame, and it is +easy, since he publishes while his subjects are living, to correct his +misrepresentations, and to visit upon him his infidelities of +friendship. + +"But (while I think of it), perhaps some fault-finder will be pleased +to tell me, why this is so much deeper a sin in _me_ than in all other +travellers. Has Basil Hall any hesitation in describing a dinner party +in the United States, and recording the conversation at table? Does +Miss Martineau stick at publishing the portrait of a distinguished +American, and faithfully recording all he says in a confidential +_tete-a-tete_? Have Captain Hamilton and Prince Pukler, Von Raumer and +Captain Marryat, any scruples whatever about putting down anything +they hear that is worth the trouble, or of describing any scene, +private or public, which would tell in their book, or illustrate a +national peculiarity? What would their books be without this class of +subjects? What would any book of travels be, leaving out everybody the +author saw, and all he heard? Not that I justify all these authors +have done in this way, for I honestly think they have stepped over the +line, which I have but trod close upon." + +Surely it is the _abuse_, and not the _use_ of information thus +acquired, that makes the offence. + +The most formal, unqualified, and severe condemnation recorded against +my Pencillings, however, is that of the renowned Editor of the +Quarterly, and to show the public the immaculate purity of the forge +where this long-echoed thunder is manufactured, I will quote a passage +or two from a book of the same description, by the Editor of the +Quarterly himself. 'Peter's Letters to his Kinsfolk,' by Mr. Lockhart, +are three volumes exclusively filled with portraits of persons, living +at the time it was written in Scotland, their conversation with the +author, their manners, their private histories, etc., etc. In one of +the letters upon the 'Society of Edinburgh,' is the following delicate +passage:-- + +"'Even you, my dear Lady Johnes, are a perfect history in every branch +of knowledge. I remember, only the last time I saw you, you were +praising with all your might the legs of Col. B----, those flimsy, +worthless things that look as if they were bandaged with linen rollers +from the heel to the knee. You may say what you will, but I still +assert, and I will prove it if you please by pen and pencil, that, +with one pair of exceptions, the best legs in Cardigan are Mrs. +P----'s. As for Miss J---- D----'s, I think they are frightful.'... + +"Two pages farther on he says:-- + +"'As for myself, I assure you that ever since I spent a week at Lady +L----'s and saw those great fat girls of hers, waltzing every night +with that odious De B----, I can not endure the very name of the +thing.' + +"I quote from the second edition of these letters, by which it appears +that even these are _moderated_ passages. A note to the first of the +above quotations runs as follows: + +"'A great part of this letter is omitted in the Second Edition in +consequence of the displeasure its publication gave to certain ladies +in Cardiganshire. As for the gentleman who chose to take what I said +of him in so much dudgeon, he will observe, that I have allowed what I +said to remain _in statu quo_, which I certainly should not have +done, had he expressed his resentment in a proper manner.' + +"So well are these unfortunate persons' names known by those who read +the book in England, that in the copy which I have from a circulating +library, they are all filled out in pencil. And I would here beg the +reader to remark that these are private individuals, compelled by no +literary or official distinction to come out from their privacy and +figure in print, and in this, if not in the _taste_ and _quality_ of +my descriptions, I claim a fairer escutcheon than my self-elected +judge--for where is a person's name recorded in my letters who is not +either by tenure of public office, or literary, or political +distinction, a theme of daily newspaper comment, and of course fair +game for the traveller. + +"I must give one more extract from Mr. Lockhart's book, an account of +a dinner with a private merchant of Glasgow. + +"'I should have told you before, that I had another visiter early in +the morning, besides Mr. H. This was a Mr. P----, a respectable +merchant of the place, also an acquaintance of my friend W----. He +came before H----, and after professing himself very sorry that his +avocations would not permit him to devote his forenoon to my service, +he made me promise to dine with him.... My friend soon joined me, and +observing from the appearance of my countenance that I was +contemplating the scene with some disgust,' (the Glasgow Exchange) 'My +good fellow,' said he, 'you are just like every other well-educated +stranger that comes into this town; you can not endure the first +sight of us mercantile whelps. Do not, however, be alarmed; I will not +introduce you to any of these cattle at dinner. No, sir! You must know +that there are a few men of refinement and polite information in this +city. I have warned two or three of these _rarae aves_, and depend upon +it, you shall have a very snug _day's work_.' So saying he took my +arm, and observing that five was _just on the chap_, hurried me +through several streets and lanes till we arrived in the ----, where +his house is situated. His wife was, I perceived, quite the fine lady, +and, withal, a little of the blue stocking. Hearing that I had just +come from Edinburgh, she remarked that Glasgow would be seen to much +more disadvantage after that elegant city. 'Indeed,' said she, 'a +person of taste, must, of course, find many disagreeables connected +with a residence in such a town as this; but Mr. P----'s business +renders the thing necessary for the present, and one can not make a +silk purse of a sow's ear--he, he, he!' Another lady of the company, +carried this affectation still farther; she pretended to be quite +ignorant of Glasgow and its inhabitants, although she had lived among +them the greater part of her life, and, by the by, seemed no chicken. +I was afterward told by my friend Mr. H----, that this damsel had in +reality sojourned a winter or two in Edinburgh, in the capacity of +_lick-spittle_ or _toad-eater_ to a lady of quality, to whom she had +rendered herself amusing by a malicious tongue; and that during this +short absence, she had embraced the opportunity of utterly forgetting +everything about the West country. + +"'The dinner was excellent, although calculated apparently for forty +people rather than sixteen, which last number sat down. While the +ladies remained in the room, there was such a noise and racket of +coarse mirth, ill restrained by a few airs of sickly sentiment on the +part of the hostess, that I really could neither attend to the wine +nor the dessert; but after a little time a very broad hint from a fat +Falstaff, near the foot of the table, apparently quite a privileged +character, thank Heaven! sent the ladies out of the room. The moment +after which blessed consummation, the butler and footman entered, as +if by instinct, the one with a huge punch bowl, _the other with, +&c._'" + +I do thank Heaven that there is no parallel in my own letters to +either of these three extracts. It is a thing of course that there is +not. They are violations of hospitality, social confidence, and +delicacy, of which even my abusers will allow me incapable. Yet this +man accuses me of all these things, and so runs criticism! + +And to this I add (to conclude this long Preface) some extracts from a +careful review of the work in the North American:-- + +"'Pencillings by the Way,' is a very spirited book. The letters out of +which it is constructed, were written originally for the New-York +'Mirror,' and were not intended for distinct publication. From this +circumstance, the author indulged in a freedom of personal detail, +which we must say is wholly unjustifiable, and we have no wish to +defend it. This book does not pretend to contain any profound +observations or discussions on national character, political +condition, literature, or even art. It would be obviously impossible +to carry any one of these topics thoroughly out, without spending +vastly more time and labor upon it than a rambling poet is likely to +have the inclination to do. In fact, there are very few men, who are +qualified, by the nature of their previous studies, to do this with +any degree of edification to their readers. But a man of general +intellectual culture, especially if he have the poetical imagination +superadded, may give us rapid sketches of other countries, which will +both entertain and instruct us. Now this book is precisely such a one +as we have here indicated. The author travelled through Europe, +mingling largely in society, and visited whatever scenes were +interesting to him as an American, a scholar, and a poet. The +impressions which these scenes made upon his mind, are described in +these volumes; and we must say, we have rarely fallen in with a book +of a more sprightly character, a more elegant and graceful style, and +full of more lively descriptions. The delineations of manners are +executed with great tact; and the shifting pictures of natural scenery +pass before us as we read, exciting a never-ceasing interest. As to +the personalities which have excited the wrath of British critics, we +have, as we said before, no wish to defend them; but a few words upon +the tone, temper, and motives, of those gentlemen, in their dealing +with our author, will not, perhaps, be considered inappropriate. + +"It is a notorious fact, that British criticism, for many years past, +has been, to a great extent, free from all the restraints of a regard +to literary truth. Assuming the political creed of an author, it would +be a very easy thing to predict the sort of criticism his writings +would meet with, in any or all of the leading periodicals of the +kingdom. This tendency has been carried so far, that even discussions +of points in ancient classical literature have been shaped and colored +by it. Thus, Aristophanes' comedies are turned against modern +democracy, and Pindar, the Theban Eagle, has been unceremoniously +classed with British Tories, by the London Quarterly. Instead of +inquiring 'What is the author's object? How far has he accomplished +it? How far is that object worthy of approbation?'--three questions +that are essential to all just criticism; the questions put by English +Reviewers are substantially 'What party does he belong to? Is he a +Whig, Tory, Radical, or is he an American?' And the sentence in such +cases depends on the answer to them. Even where British criticism is +favorable to an American author, its tone is likely to be haughty and +insulting; like the language of a condescending city gentleman toward +some country cousin, whom he is kind enough to honor with his +patronage. + +"Now, to critics of this sort, Mr. Willis was a tempting mark. No one +can for a moment believe that the London Quarterly, Frazer's Magazine, +and Captain Marryat's monthly, are honest in the language they hold +toward Mr. Willis. Motives, wide enough from a love of truth, guided +the conduct of these journals. The editor of the London Quarterly, it +is well known, is the author of 'Peter's Letters to his Kinsfolk,' a +work full of personalities, ten times more objectionable than +anything to be found in the 'Pencillings.' Yet this same editor did +not blush to write and print a long and most abusive tirade upon the +American traveller, for doing what he had himself done to a much +greater and more reprehensible extent; and, to cap the climax of +inconsistency, republished in his journal the very personalities, +names and all, which had so shocked his delicate sensibilities. It is +much more likely that a disrespectful notice of the London Quarterly +and its editor, in these 'Pencillings,' was the source from which this +bitterness flowed, than that any sense of literary justice dictated +the harsh review. Another furious attack on Mr. Willis's book appeared +in the monthly journal, under the editorial management of Captain +Marryat, the author of a series of very popular sea novels. Whoever +was the author of that article, ought to be held disgraced in the +opinions of all honorable men. It is the most extraordinary tissue of +insolence and coarseness, with one exception, that we have ever seen, +in any periodical which pretended to respectability of literary +character. It carries its grossness to the intolerable length of +attacking the private character of Mr. Willis, and throwing out +foolish sneers about his birth and parentage. It is this article which +led to the well-known correspondence, between the American Poet and +the British Captain, ending in a hostile meeting. It is to be +regretted that Mr. Willis should so far forget the principles of his +New England education, as to participate in a duel. We regard the +practice with horror; we believe it not only wicked, but absurd. We +can not possibly see how, Mr. Willis's tarnished fame could be +brightened by the superfluous work of putting an additional quantity +of lead into the gallant captain. But there is, perhaps, no disputing +about tastes; and, bad as we think the whole affair was, no candid man +can read the correspondence without feeling that Mr. Willis's part of +it, is infinitely superior to the captain's, in style, sense, dignity +of feeling, and manly honor. + +"But, to return to the work from which we have been partially drawn +aside. Its merits in point of style are unquestionable. It is written +in a simple, vigorous, and highly descriptive form of English, and +rivets the reader's attention throughout. There are passages in it of +graphic eloquence, which it would be difficult to surpass from the +writings of any other tourist, whatever. The topics our author +selects, are, as has been already stated, not those which require long +and careful study to appreciate and discuss; they are such as the +poetic eye would naturally dwell upon, and a poetic hand rapidly +delineate, in a cursory survey of foreign lands. Occasionally, we +think, Mr. Willis enters too minutely into the details of the +horrible. Some of his descriptions of the cholera, and the pictures he +gives us of the catacombs of the dead, are ghastly. But the manners of +society he draws with admirable tact; and personal peculiarities of +distinguished men, he renders with a most life-like vivacity. Many of +his descriptions of natural scenery are more like pictures, than +sketches in words. The description of the Bay of Naples will occur as +a good example. + +"It would be impossible to point out, with any degree of +particularity, the many passages in this book whose beauty deserves +attention. But it may be remarked in general, that the greater part of +the first volume is not so fresh and various, and animated, as the +second. This we suppose arises partly from the fact that France and +Italy have long been beaten ground. + +"The last part of the book is a statement of the author's observations +upon English life and society; and it is this portion, which the +English critics affect to be so deeply offended with. The most +objectionable passage in this is the account of a dinner at Lady +Blessington's. Unquestionably Mr. Moore's remarks about Mr. O'Connell +ought not to have been reported, considering the time when, and the +place where, they were uttered; though they contain nothing new about +the great Agitator, the secrets disclosed being well known to some +millions of people who interest themselves in British politics, and +read the British newspapers. We close our remarks on this work by +referring our readers to a capital scene on board a Scotch steamboat, +and a breakfast at Professor Wilson's, the famous editor of Blackwood, +both in the second volume, which we regret our inability to quote." + +"Every impartial reader must confess, that for so young a man, Mr. +Willis has done much to promote the reputation of American literature. +His position at present is surrounded with every incentive to a noble +ambition. With youth and health to sustain him under labor; with much +knowledge of the world acquired by travel and observation, to draw +upon; with a mature style, and a hand practised in various forms of +composition, Mr. Willis's genius ought to take a wider and higher +range than it has ever done before. We trust we shall meet him again, +ere long, in the paths of literature; and we trust that he will take +it kindly, if we express the hope, that he will lay aside those +tendencies to exaggeration, and to an unhealthy tone of sentiment, +which mar the beauty of some of his otherwise most agreeable books." + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + PAGE + LETTER I. + + Getting under Way--The Gulf Stream--Aspect of the Ocean-- + Formation of a Wave--Sea Gems--The Second Mate, 11 + + LETTER II. + + A Dog at Sea--Dining, with a High Sea--Sea Birds--Tandem of + Whales--Speaking a Man-of-War--Havre, 18 + + LETTER III. + + Havre--French Bed-room--The Cooking--Chance Impressions, 25 + + LETTER IV. + + Pleasant Companion--Normandy--Rouen--Eden of Cultivation--St. + Denis--Entrance to Paris--Lodgings--Walk of Discovery--Palais + Royal, 30 + + LETTER V. + + Gallery of the Louvre--Greenough--Feeling as a Foreigner-- + Solitude in the Louvre--Louis Philippe--The Poles--Napoleon + II, 40 + + LETTER VI. + + Taglioni--French Acting--French Applause--Leontine Fay, 48 + + LETTER VII. + + Lelewel--Pere La Chaise--Pauvre Marie--Versailles--The + Trianons--Josephine's Boudoir--Time and Money at Paris--Wives + and Fuel--One Price Shops, 53 + + LETTER VIII. + + Mr. Cooper--Mr. Greenough--Fighting Animals--The Dog Pit-- + Fighting Donkey--Sporting Englishmen, 63 + + LETTER IX. + + Malibran--Paris at a Late Hour--Glass Gallery--Cloud and + Sunshine--General Romarino--Parisian Students--Tumult Ended, 70 + + LETTER X. + + French Children--Royal Equipages--French Driving--City + Riding--Parisian Picturesque--Beggar's Deception--Genteel + Beggars, 78 + + LETTER XI. + + Madame Mars--Franklin's House--Ball for the Poor--Theatrical + Splendor--Louis Philippe--Duke of Orleans--Young Queen of + Portugal--Don Pedro--Close of the Ball, 86 + + LETTER XII. + + Champs Elysees--Louis Philippe--Literary Dinner--Bowring and + others--The Poles--Dr. Howe's Mission, 96 + + LETTER XIII. + + Club Gambling House--Frascati's--Female Gambler, 103 + + LETTER XIV. + + Tuileries--Men of Mark--Cooper and Morse--Contradictions-- + Dinner Hour--How to Dine Well, 107 + + LETTER XV. + + The Emperor--Turenne--Lady Officer--Gambling Quarrel--Curious + Antagonists--Influence of Paris, 114 + + LETTER XVI. + + Cholera Gaieties--Cholera Patient--Morning in Paris--Cholera + Hospital--New Patient--Physician's Indifference--Punch + Remedy--Dead Room--Non-Contagion, 121 + + LETTER XVII. + + Unexpected Challenge--Court Presentation--Louis Philippe-- + Royal Family at Tea--Countess Guiccioli--Mardi Gras--Bal + Costume--Public Masks--Lady Cavalier--Ball at the Palace-- + Duke of Orleans--Dr. Bowring--Celebrated Men--Glass Verandah, 131 + + LETTER XVIII. + + Cholera--Social Tea Party--Recipe for Caution--Baths and + Happiness, 146 + + LETTER XIX. + + Bois de Boulogne--Guiccioli--Sismondi--Cooper, 151 + + LETTER XX. + + Friend of Lady Morgan--Dr. Spurzheim--Cast-Taking--De + Potter--David the Sculptor, 156 + + LETTER XXI. + + Attractions of Paris--Mr. Cooper--Mr. Rives, 162 + + LETTER XXII. + + Chalons--Sens--Auxerre--St. Bris--Three Views In One-- + Chalons, 166 + + LETTER XXIII. + + Boat on the Saone--Scenery above Lyons--Lyons--Churches at + Lyons--Monastery, 173 + + LETTER XXIV. + + Travelling Party--Breakfast on the Road--Localities of + Antiquity--Picturesque Chateau--French Patois, 179 + + LETTER XXV. + + Arles--The Cathedral--Marseilles--Parting with Companions-- + Pass of Ollioules--Toulon--Antibes--Coast of Mediterranean-- + Forced to Return--Lazaretto--Absurd Hindrances--Fear of + Contagion--Sleep out of Doors--Lazaretto Occupations-- + Delicious Sunday--New Arrivals--Companions--End of + Quarantine, 185 + + LETTER XXVI. + + Nice--Funeral of an Arch-Duchess--Nice to Genoa--Views-- + Entrance to Genoa--Genoa, 204 + + LETTER XXVII. + + The Venus--The Fornarina--A Coquette and the Arts--A + Festa--Ascension Day--The Cascine--Madame Catalani, 211 + + LETTER XXVIII. + + Titian's Bella--The Grand-Duchess--An Improvisatrice--Living + in Florence--Lodgings at Florence--Expense of Living, 219 + + LETTER XXIX. + + Companions--Scenery of Romagna--Wives--Bologna, 225 + + LETTER XXX. + + Gallery at Bologna--A Guido--Churches--Confession--Chapel-- + Festa--Agreeable Manners, 231 + + LETTER XXXI. + + Regatta--Venetian Sunset--Privileged Admission--Guillotining-- + Bridge of Sighs--San Marc--The Nobleman Beggar, 238 + + LETTER XXXII. + + An Evening in Venice--The Streets of Venice--The Rialto-- + Sunset from San Marc, 246 + + LETTER XXXIII. + + Titian's Pictures--Last Day in Venice, 251 + + LETTER XXXIV. + + Italian Civility--Juliet's Tomb--The Palace of the + Capuletti--A Dinner, 254 + + LETTER XXXV. + + Good and Ill-Breeding--Bridal Party, 259 + + LETTER XXXVI. + + Manner of Living--Originals of Novels--Ill, 262 + + LETTER XXXVII. + + The Duke of Lucca--Modena--The Palace--Bologna--Venice + Again--Its Splendor, 266 + + LETTER XXXVIII. + + Armenian Island--Agreeable Monk--Insane Hospital--Insane + Patients--The Lagune--State Galley--Instruments of Torture, 273 + + LETTER XXXIX. + + Venice at Evening--The Patriotism of a Noble--Church of St. + Antony--Petrarch's Cottage and Tomb--Petrarch's Room, 281 + + LETTER XL. + + Cultivation of the Fields--The Vintage--Malibran in Gazza + Ladra--Gallery of the Lambaccari, 287 + + LETTER XLI. + + Sienna--Catholic Devotion--Acquapendente--Lake Bolsena-- + Vintage Festa--Monte Cimino--First Sight of Rome--Baccano, 292 + + LETTER XLII. + + St. Peter's--The Apollo Belvidere--Raphael's + Transfiguration--The Pantheon--The Forum, 301 + + LETTER XLIII. + + The Falls of Tivoli--Villa of Adrian--A Ramble by Moonlight-- + The Cloaca Maxima, 307 + + LETTER XLIV. + + The Last Judgment--The Music--Gregory the Sixteenth, 312 + + LETTER XLV. + + Byron's Statue--The Borghese Palace--Society of Rome, 316 + + LETTER XLVI. + + The Climate--Falls of Terni--The Clitumnus--A Lesson not + Lost--Thrasimene--Florence--Florentine Women--Need of an + Ambassador, 320 + + LETTER XLVII. + + Chat in the Ante-Chamber--Love in High Life--Ball at the + Palazzo Pitti--The Grand Duke--An Italian Beauty--An English + Beauty, 329 + + LETTER XLVIII. + + Oxen of Italy--Vallombrosa--A Convent Dinner--Vespers at + Vallombrosa--The Monk's Estimate of Women--Milton's Room-- + Florence, 336 + + LETTER XLIX. + + The House of Michael Angelo--Fiesole--San Miniato--Christmas + Eve--Amusing Scenes in Church, 344 + + LETTER L. + + Penitential Processions--The Carlist Refugees--The Miracle of + Rain--The Miraculous Picture--Giovanni Di Bologna--Andrea Del + Sarto, 350 + + LETTER LI. + + The Entertainments of Florence--A Peasant Beauty--The Morality + of Society--The Italian Cavalier--The Features of Society, 357 + + LETTER LII. + + Artists and the French Academy--Beautiful Scenery--Sacred + Woods of Bolsena, 363 + + LETTER LIII. + + The Virtuoso of Viterbo--Robberies--Rome as Fancied--Rome as + Found, 367 + + LETTER LIV. + + The Fountain of Egeria--The Pontine Marshes--Mola--The + Falernian Hills--The Doctor of St. Agatha--The Queen of + Naples, 372 + + LETTER LV. + + St. Peter's--The Fountains--The Obelisk--The Forum--Its + Memories--The Cenci--Claude's Pictures--Fancies Realized--The + Last of the Dorias--A Picture by Leonardo Da Vinci--Palace of + the Cesars--An Hour on the Palatine, 379 + + LETTER LVI. + + Roman Eyes versus Feet--Vespers at Santa Trinita--Roman + Baths--Baths of Titus--Shelley's Haunt, 390 + + LETTER LVII. + + The Tomb of the Scipios--The Early Christians--The Tomb of + Metella--Fountain of Egeria--Changed Aspect of Rome, 396 + + LETTER LVIII. + + Palm Sunday--A Crowd--The Miserere--A Judas--The Washing of + Feet--The Dinner, 402 + + LETTER LIX. + + The Protestant Cemetery--Shelley's Grave--Beauty of the + Place--Keats--Dr. Bell, 409 + + LETTER LX. + + Audience with the Pope--Humility and Pride in Contrast--The + Miserere at St. Peter's--Italian Moonlight--Dancing at the + Coliseum, 415 + + LETTER LXI. + + Easter Sunday--The Pope's Blessing--Illumination of St. + Peter's--Florentine Sociability--A Marriage of Convenience, 421 + + LETTER LXII. + + The Correggio--Austrians in Italy--The Cathedral at Milan-- + Guercino's Hagar--Milanese Coffee, 427 + + LETTER LXIII. + + Still in Italy--Isola Bella--Ascent of the Simplon--Farewell + to Italy--An American--Descent of the Simplon, 433 + + LETTER LXIV. + + The Cretins--The Goitre--First Sight of Lake Leman--Mont + Blanc--June in Geneva--The Winkelreid, 440 + + LETTER LXV. + + American and Genevese Steamers--Lilies of the Valley--A + Frenchman's Apology--Genevese Women--Voltaire's Room, 446 + + LETTER LXVI. + + The Jura--Arrival at Morez--Lost my Temper--National + Characteristics--Politeness versus Comfort, 452 + + LETTER LXVII. + + Lafayette's Funeral--Crossing the Channel--An English Inn-- + Mail Coaches and Horses--A Gentleman Driver--A Subject for + Madame Trollope, 458 + + LETTER LXVIII. + + First Dinner in London--The King's Birth-day--A Handsome + Street--Introduction to Lady Blessington--A Chat about + Bulwer--The D'Israeli's--Contrast of Criticism--Countess + Guiccioli--Lady Blessington--An Apology, 465 + + LETTER LXIX. + + An Evening at Lady Blessington's--Fonblanc--Tribute to American + Authors--A Sketch of Bulwer--Bulwer's Conversation--An Author + his own Critic, 476 + + LETTER LXX. + + Ascot Races--Handsome Men--The Princess Victoria--Charles + Lamb--Mary Lamb--Lamb's Conversation--The Breakfast at Fault, 483 + + LETTER LXXI. + + A Dinner at Lady Blessington's--D'Israeli, the Younger--The + Author of Vathek--Mr. Beckford's Whims--Irish Patriotism--The + Effect of Eloquence, 491 + + LETTER LXXII. + + The Opera House--What Books will pay for--English Beauty--A + Belle's Criticism on Society--Celebrities, 498 + + LETTER LXXIII. + + Breakfast with Proctor--A Story of Hazlitt--Procter as a + Poet--Impressions of the Man, 504 + + LETTER LXXIV. + + Moore's Dread of Criticism--Moore's Love of Rank--A generous + Offer nobly Refused--A Sacrifice to Jupiter--The Election of + Speaker--Miss Pardoe--Prices of Books, 509 + + LETTER LXXV. + + Dinner at Lady Blessington's--Scott--The Italians--Scott's Mode + of Living--O'Connell--Grattan--Moore's Manner of Talking--Lady + Blessington's Tact--Moore's Singing--A Curious Incident--The + Maid Metamorphosed, 517 + + + + +PENCILLINGS BY THE WAY. + + + + +LETTER I. + + +AT SEA.--I have emerged from my berth this morning for the first time +since we left the Capes. We have been running six or seven days before +a strong northwest gale, which, by the scuds in the sky, is not yet +blown out, and my head and hand, as you will see by my penmanship, are +anything but at rights. If you have ever plunged about in a cold +rain-storm at sea for seven successive days, you can imagine how I +have amused myself. + +I wrote to you after my pilgrimage to the tomb of Washington. It was +almost the only object of natural or historical interest in our own +country that I had not visited, and that seen, I made all haste back +to embark, in pursuance of my plans of travel, for Europe. At +Philadelphia I found a first-rate merchant-brig, the Pacific, on the +eve of sailing for Havre. She was nearly new, and had a French +captain, and no passengers--three very essential circumstances to my +taste--and I took a berth in her without hesitation. The next day she +fell down the river, and on the succeeding morning I followed her with +the captain in the steamboat. + +Some ten or fifteen vessels, bound on different voyages, lay in the +roads waiting for the pilot boat; and, as she came down the river, +they all weighed anchor together and we got under way. It was a +beautiful sight--so many sail in close company under a smart breeze, +and I stood on the quarter-deck and watched them in a mood of mingled +happiness and sadness till we reached the Capes. There was much to +elevate and much to depress me. The dream of my lifetime was about to +be realized. I was bound to France; and those fair Italian cities, +with their world of association and interest were within the limit of +a voyage; and all that one looks to for happiness in change of scene, +and all that I had been passionately wishing and imagining since I +could dream a day-dream or read a book, was before me with a visible +certainty; but my home was receding rapidly, perhaps for years, and +the chances of death and adversity in my absence crowded upon my +mind--and I had left friends--(many--many--as dear to me, any one of +them, as the whole sum of my coming enjoyment), whom a thousand +possible accidents might remove or estrange; and I scarce knew whether +I was more happy or sad. + +We made Cape Henlopen about sundown, and all shortened sail and came +to. The little boat passed from one to another, taking off the pilots, +and in a few minutes every sail was spread again, and away they went +with a dashing breeze, some on one course some on another, leaving us +in less than an hour, apparently alone on the sea. By this time the +clouds had grown black, the wind had strengthened into a gale, with +fits of rain; and as the order was given to "close-reef the +top-sails," I took a last look at Cape Henlopen, just visible in the +far edge of the horizon, and went below. + +OCT. 18.--It is a day to make one in love with life. The remains of +the long storm, before which we have been driven for a week, lie, in +white, turreted masses around the horizon, the sky overhead is +spotlessly blue, the sun is warm, the wind steady and fresh, but soft +as a child's breath, and the sea--I must sketch it to you more +elaborately. We are in the Gulf Stream. The water here as you know, +even to the cold banks of Newfoundland, is always blood warm, and the +temperature of the air mild at all seasons, and, just now, like a +south wind on land in June. Hundreds of sea birds are sailing around +us--the spongy sea-weeds, washed from the West Indian rocks, a +thousand miles away in the southern latitudes, float by in large +masses--the sailors, barefoot and bareheaded, are scattered over the +rigging, doing "fair-weather work"--and just in the edge of the +horizon, hidden by every swell, stand two vessels with all sail +spread, making, with the first fair wind they have had for many days, +for America. + +This is the first day that I have been able to be long enough on deck +to study the sea. Even were it not, however, there has been a constant +and chilly rain which would have prevented me from enjoying its +grandeur, so that I am reconciled to my unusually severe sickness. I +came on deck this morning and looked around, and for an hour or two I +could scarce realize that it was not a dream. Much as I had watched +the sea from our bold promontory at Nahant, and well as I thought I +knew its character in storms and calms, the scene which was before me +surprized and bewildered me utterly. At the first glance, we were just +in the gorge of the sea; and, looking over the leeward quarter, I +saw, stretching up from the keel, what I can only describe as a hill +of dazzling blue, thirty or forty feet in real altitude, but sloped so +far away that the white crest seemed to me a cloud, and the space +between a sky of the most wonderful beauty and brightness. A moment +more, and the crest burst over with a splendid volume of foam; the sun +struck through the thinner part of the swell in a line of vivid +emerald, and the whole mass swept under us, the brig rising and riding +on the summit with the buoyancy and grace of a bird. + +The single view of the ocean which I got at that moment, will be +impressed upon my mind for ever. Nothing that I ever saw on land at +all compares with it for splendor. No sunset, no lake scene of hill +and water, no fall, not even Niagara, no glen or mountain gap ever +approached it. The waves had had no time to "knock down," as the +sailors phrase it, and it was a storm at sea without the hurricane and +rain. I looked off to the horizon, and the long majestic swells were +heaving into the sky upon its distant limit, and between it and my eye +lay a radius of twelve miles, an immense plain flashing with green and +blue and white, and changing place and color so rapidly as to be +almost painful to the sight. I stood holding by the tafferel an hour, +gazing on it with a childish delight and wonder. The spray had broken +over me repeatedly, and, as we shipped half a sea at the scuppers at +every roll, I was standing half the time up to the knees in water; but +the warm wind on my forehead, after a week's confinement to my berth, +and the excessive beauty lavished upon my sight, were so delicious, +that I forgot all, and it was only in compliance with the captain's +repeated suggestion that I changed my position. + +I mounted the quarter-deck, and, pulling off my shoes, like a +schoolboy, sat over the leeward rails, and, with my feet dipping into +the warm sea at every lurch, gazed at the glorious show for hours. I +do not hesitate to say that the formation, progress, and final burst +of a sea-wave, in a bright sun, are the most gorgeously beautiful +sight under heaven. I must describe it like a jeweller to you, or I +can never convey my impressions. + +First of all, a quarter of a mile away to windward, your eye is caught +by an uncommonly high wave, rushing right upon your track, and heaping +up slowly and constantly as it comes, as if some huge animal were +ploughing his path steadily and powerfully beneath the surface. Its +"ground," as a painter would say, is of a deep indigo, clear and +smooth as enamel, its front curved inward, like a shell, and turned +over at the summit with a crest of foam, flashing and changing +perpetually in the sunshine, like the sudden outburst of a million of +"unsunned diamonds;" and, right through its bosom, as the sea falls +off, or the angle of refraction changes, there runs a shifting band of +the most vivid green, that you would take to have been the cestus of +Venus, as she rose from the sea, it is so supernaturally translucent +and beautiful. As it nears you, it looks in shape like the prow of +Cleopatra's barge, as they paint it in the old pictures; but its +colors, and the grace and majesty of its march, and its murmur (like +the low tones of an organ, deep and full, and, to my ear, ten times as +articulate and solemn), almost startle you into the belief that it is +a sentient being, risen glorious and breathing from the ocean. As it +reaches the ship, she rises gradually, for there is apparently an +under-wave driven before it, which prepares her for its power; and as +it touches the quarter, the whole magnificent wall breaks down beneath +you with a deafening surge, and a volume of foam issues from its +bosom, green and blue and white, as if it had been a mighty casket in +which the whole wealth of the sea, crysoprase, and emerald, and +brilliant spars, had been heaped and lavished at a throw. This is the +"tenth wave," and, for four or five minutes, the sea will be smooth +about you, and the sparkling and dying foam falls into the wake, and +may be seen like a white path, stretching away over the swells behind, +till you are tired of gazing at it. Then comes another from the same +direction, and with the same shape and motion, and so on till the sun +sets, or your eyes are blinded and your brain giddy with splendor. + +I am sure this language will seem exaggerated to you, but, upon the +faith of a lonely man (the captain has turned in, and it is near +midnight and a dead calm), it is a mere skeleton, a goldsmith's +inventory, of the reality. I long ago learned that first lesson of a +man of the world, "to be astonished at nothing," but the sea has +overreached my philosophy--quite. I am changed to a mere child in my +wonder. Be assured, no view of the ocean from land can give you a +shadow of an idea of it. Within even the outermost Capes, the swell is +broken, and the color of the water in soundings is essentially +different--more dull and earthy. Go to the mineral cabinets of +Cambridge or New Haven, and look at the _fluor spars_, and the +_turquoises_, and the clearer specimens of _crysoprase_, and _quartz_, +and _diamond_, and imagine them all polished and clear, and flung at +your feet by millions in a noonday sun, and it may help your +conceptions of the sea after a storm. You may "swim on bladders" at +Nahant and Rockaway till you are gray, and be never the wiser. + +The "middle watch" is called, and the second mate, a fine rough old +sailor, promoted from "the mast," is walking the quarter-deck, +stopping his whistle now and then with a gruff "How do you head?" or +"keep her up, you lubber," to the man at the helm; the "silver-shell" +of a waning moon, is just visible through the dead lights over my +shoulder (it has been up two hours, to me, and by the difference of +our present merideans, is just rising now over a certain hill, and +peeping softly in at an eastern window that I have watched many a time +when its panes have been silvered by the same chaste alchymy), and so +after a walk on the deck for an hour to look at the stars and watch +the phosphorus in the wake, I think of ----, I'll get to mine own +uneven pillow, and sleep too. + + + + +LETTER II. + + +AT SEA, OCTOBER 20.--We have had fine weather for progress, so far, +running with north and north-westerly winds from eight to ten knots an +hour, and making, of course, over two hundred miles a day. The sea is +still rough; and though the brig is light laden and rides very +buoyantly, these mounting waves break over us now and then with a +tremendous surge, keeping the decks constantly wet, and putting me to +many an uncomfortable shiver. I have become reconciled, however, to +much that I should have anticipated with no little horror. I can lie +in my berth forty-eight hours, if the weather is chill or rainy, and +amuse myself very well with talking bad French across the cabin to the +captain, or laughing at the distresses of my friend and +fellow-passenger, Turk (a fine setter dog, on his first voyage), or +inventing some disguise for the peculiar flavor which that dismal cook +gives to all his abominations, or, at worst, I can bury my head in my +pillow, and brace from one side to the other against the swell, and +enjoy my disturbed thoughts--all without losing my temper, or wishing +that I had not undertaken the voyage. + +Poor Turk! his philosophy is more severely tried. He has been bred a +gentleman, and is amusingly exclusive. No assiduities can win him to +take the least notice of the crew, and I soon discovered, that, when +the captain and myself were below, he endured many a persecution. In +an evil hour, a night or two since, I suffered his earnest appeals for +freedom to work upon my feelings, and, releasing him from his chain +under the windlass, I gave him the liberty of the cabin. He slept very +quietly on the floor till about midnight, when the wind rose and the +vessel began to roll very uncomfortably. With the first heavy lurch a +couple of chairs went tumbling to leeward, and by the yelp of +distress, Turk was somewhere in the way. He changed his position, and, +with the next roll, the mate's trunk "brought away," and shooting +across the cabin, jammed him with such violence against the captain's +state-room door, that he sprang howling to the deck, where the first +thing that met him was a washing sea, just taken in at midships, that +kept him swimming above the hatches for five minutes. Half-drowned, +and with a gallon of water in his long hair, he took again to the +cabin, and making a desperate leap into the steward's berth, crouched +down beside the sleeping creole with a long whine of satisfaction. The +water soon penetrated however, and with a "_sacre!_" and a blow that +he will remember for the remainder of the voyage, the poor dog was +again driven from the cabin, and I heard no more of him till morning. +His decided preference for me has since touched my vanity, and I have +taken him under my more special protection--a circumstance which costs +me two quarrels a day at least, with the cook and steward. + +The only thing which forced a smile upon me during the first week of +the passage was the achievement of dinner. In rough weather, it is as +much as one person can do to keep his place at the table at all; and +to guard the dishes, bottles, and castors, from a general slide in +the direction of the lurch, requires a sleight and coolness reserved +only for a sailor. "_Prenez garde!_" shouts the captain, as the sea +strikes, and in the twinkling of an eye, everything is seized and held +up to wait for the other lurch in attitudes which it would puzzle the +pencil of Johnson to exaggerate. With his plate of soup in one hand, +and the larboard end of the tureen in the other, the claret bottle +between his teeth, and the crook of his elbow caught around the +mounting corner of the table, the captain maintains his seat upon the +transom, and, with a look of the most grave concern, keeps a wary eye +on the shifting level of his vermicelli; the old weather-beaten mate, +with the alacrity of a juggler, makes a long leg back to the cabin +panels at the same moment, and with his breast against the table, +takes his own plate and the castors, and one or two of the smaller +dishes under his charge; and the steward, if he can keep his legs, +looks out for the vegetables, or if he falls, makes as wide a lap as +possible to intercept the volant articles in their descent. "Gentlemen +that live at home at ease" forget to thank Providence for the +blessings of a permanent level. + +OCT. 24.--We are on the Grand Bank, and surrounded by hundreds of +sea-birds. I have been watching them nearly all day. Their +performances on the wing are certainly the perfection of grace and +skill. With the steadiness of an eagle and the nice adroitness of a +swallow, they wheel round in their constant circles with an arrowy +swiftness, lifting their long tapering pinions scarce perceptibly, and +mounting and falling as if by a mere act of volition, without the +slightest apparent exertion of power. Their chief enjoyment seems to +be to scoop through the deep hollows of the sea, and they do it so +quickly that your eye can scarce follow them, just disturbing the +polish of the smooth crescent, and leaving a fine line of ripple from +swell to swell, but never wetting a wing, or dipping their white +breasts a feather too deep in the capricious and wind-driven surface. +I feel a strange interest in these wild-hearted birds. There is +something in this fearless instinct, leading them away from the +protecting and pleasant land to make their home on this tossing and +desolate element, that moves both my admiration and my pity. I cannot +comprehend it. It is unlike the self-caring instincts of the other +families of Heaven's creatures. If I were half the Pythagorean that I +used to be, I should believe they were souls in punishment--expiating +some lifetime sin in this restless metempsychosis. + +Now and then a land-bird has flown on board, driven to sea probably by +the gale; and so fatigued as hardly to be able to rise again upon the +wing. Yesterday morning a large curlew came struggling down the wind, +and seemed to have just sufficient strength to reach the vessel. He +attempted to alight on the main yard, but failed and dropped heavily +into the long-boat, where he suffered himself to be taken without an +attempt to escape. He must have been on the wing two or three days +without food, for we were at least two hundred miles from land. His +heart was throbbing hard through his ruffled feathers, and he held his +head up with difficulty. He was passed aft; but, while I was +deliberating on the best means for resuscitating and fitting him to +get on the wing again, the captain had taken him from me and handed +him over to the cook, who had his head off before I could remember +French enough to arrest him. I dreamed all that night of the man "that +shot the albatross." The captain relieved my mind, however, by telling +me that he had tried repeatedly to preserve them, and that they died +invariably in a few hours. The least food, in their exhausted state, +swells in their throats and suffocates them. Poor Curlew! there was a +tenderness in one breast for him at least--a feeling I have the +melancholy satisfaction to know, fully reciprocated by the bird +himself--that seat of his affections having been allotted to me for my +breakfast the morning succeeding his demise. + +OCT. 29.--We have a tandem of whales ahead. They have been playing +about the ship an hour, and now are coursing away to the east, one +after the other, in gallant style. If we could only get them into +traces now, how beautiful it would be to stand in the foretop and +drive a degree or two, on a summer sea! It would not be more +wonderful, _de novo_, than the discovery of the lightning-rod, or +navigation by steam! And by the way, the sight of these huge creatures +has made me realize, for the first time, the extent to which the sea +has _grown_ upon my mind during the voyage. I have seen one or two +whales, exhibited in the docks, and it seemed to me always that they +were monsters--out of proportion, entirely, to the range of the ocean. +I had been accustomed to look out to the horizon from land (the +radius, of course, as great as at sea), and, calculating the probable +speed with which they would compass the intervening space, and the +disturbance they would make in doing it, it appeared that in any +considerable numbers, they would occupy more than their share of +notice and sea-room. Now--after sailing five days, at two hundred +miles a day, and not meeting a single vessel--it seems to me that a +troop of a thousand might swim the sea a century and chance to be +never crossed, so endlessly does this eternal horizon open and stretch +away! + +OCT. 30.--The day has passed more pleasantly than usual The man at the +helm cried "a sail," while we were at breakfast, and we gradually +overtook a large ship, standing on the same course, with every sail +set. We were passing half a mile to leeward, when she put up her helm +and ran down to us, hoisting the English flag. We raised the +"star-spangled banner" in answer, and "hove to," and she came dashing +along our quarter, heaving most majestically to the sea, till she was +near enough to speak us without a trumpet. Her fore-deck was covered +with sailors dressed all alike and very neatly, and around the gangway +stood a large group of officers in uniform, the oldest of whom, a +noble-looking man with gray hair, hailed and answered us. Several +ladies stood back by the cabin door--passengers apparently. She was a +man of war, sailing as a king's packet between Halifax and Falmouth, +and had been out from the former port nineteen days. After the usual +courtesies had passed, she bore away a little, and then kept on her +course again, the two vessels in company at the distance of half a +pistol shot. I rarely have seen a more beautiful sight. The fine +effect of a ship under sail is entirely lost to one on board, and it +is only at sea and under circumstances like these, that it can be +observed. The power of the swell, lifting such a huge body as lightly +as an egg-shell on its bosom, and tossing it sometimes half out of the +water without the slightest apparent effort, is astonishing. I sat on +deck watching her with undiminished interest for hours. Apart from the +spectacle, the feeling of companionship, meeting human beings in the +middle of the ocean after so long a deprivation of society (five days +without seeing a sail, and nearly three weeks unspoken from land), was +delightful. Our brig was the faster sailer of the two, but our captain +took in some of his canvas for company's sake; and all the afternoon +we heard her half-hour bells, and the boatswain's whistle, and the +orders of the officers of the deck, and I could distinguish very +well, with a glass, the expression of the faces watching our own +really beautiful vessel as she skimmed over the water like a bird. We +parted at sunset, the man-of-war making northerly for her port, and we +stretching south for the coast of France. I watched her till she went +over the horizon, and felt as if I had lost friends when the night +closed in and we were once more + + "Alone on the wide, wide sea." + +NOV. 3.--We have just made the port of Havre, and the pilot tells us +that the packet has been delayed by contrary winds, and sails early +to-morrow morning. The town bells are ringing "nine" (as delightful a +sound as I ever heard, to my sea-weary ear), and I close in haste, for +all is confusion on board. + + + + +LETTER III. + + +HAVRE.--This is one of those places which scribbling travellers hurry +through with a crisp mention of their arrival and departure, but, as I +have passed a day here upon customhouse compulsion, and passed it +pleasantly too, and as I have an evening entirely to myself, and a +good fire, why I will order another _pound_ of wood (they sell it like +a drug here), and Monsieur and Mademoiselle Somebodies, "violin +players right from the hands of Paganini, only fifteen years of age, +and miracles of music," (so says the placard), may delight other +lovers of precocious talent than I. Pen, ink, and paper for No. 2! + +If I had not been warned against being astonished, short of Paris, I +should have thought Havre quite an affair. I certainly have seen more +that is novel and amusing since morning than I ever saw before in any +seven days of my life. Not a face, not a building, not a dress, not a +child even, not a stone in the street, nor shop, nor woman, nor beast +of burden, looks in any comparable degree like its namesake the other +side of the water. + +It was very provoking to eat a salt supper and go to bed in that +tiresome berth again last night, with a French hotel in full view, and +no permission to send for a fresh biscuit even, or a cup of milk. It +was nine o'clock when we reached the pier, and at that late hour there +was, of course, no officer to be had for permission to land; and there +paced the patrole, with his high black cap and red pompon, up and down +the quay, within six feet of our tafferel, and a shot from his +arquebuss would have been the consequence of any unlicensed +communication with the shore. It was something, however, to sleep +without rocking; and, after a fit of musing anticipation, which kept +me conscious of the sentinel's measured tread till midnight, the +"gentle goddess" sealed up my cares effectually, and I awoke at +sunrise--in France! + +It is a common thing enough to go abroad, and it may seem idle and +common-place to be enthusiastic about it; but nothing is common or a +trifle, to me, that can send the blood so warm to my heart, and the +color to my temples as generously, as did my first conscious thought +when I awoke this morning. _In France._ I would not have had it a +dream for the price of an empire. + +Early in the morning a woman came clattering into the cabin with +wooden shoes, and a _patois_ of mingled French and English--a +_blanchisseuse_--spattered to the knees with mud, but with a cap and +'kerchief that would have made the fortune of a New York milliner. +_Ciel!_ what politeness! and what white teeth and what a knowing row +of papillotes, laid in precise parallel, on her clear brunette +temples. + +"_Quelle nouvelle!_" said the captain. + +"_Poland est a bas!_" was the answer, with a look of heroic sorrow, +that would have become a tragedy queen, mourning for the loss of a +throne. The French manner, for once, did not appear exaggerated. It +was news to sadden us all. Pity! pity! that the broad Christian world +could look on and see this glorious people trampled to the dust in one +of the most noble and desperate struggles for liberty that the earth +ever saw! What an opportunity was here lost to France for setting a +seal of double truth and splendor on her own newly-achieved triumph +over despotism. The washerwoman broke the silence with "_Any clothes +to wash, Monsieur?_" and in the instant return of my thoughts to my +own comparatively-pitiful interests, I found the philosophy for all I +had condemned in kings--the humiliating and selfish individuality of +human nature! And yet I believe with Dr. Channing on that dogma. + +At ten o'clock I had performed the traveller's routine--had submitted +my trunk and my passport to the three authorities, and had got into +(and out of) as many mounting passions at what seemed to me the +intolerable impertinencies of searching my linen, and inspecting my +person for scars. I had paid the porter three times his due rather +than endure his cataract of French expostulation; and with a bunch of +keys, and a landlady attached to it, had ascended by a cold, wet, +marble staircase, to a parlor and bedroom on the fifth floor: as +pretty a place, when you get there, and as difficult to get to as if +it were a palace in thin air. It is perfectly French! Fine, old, +last-century chairs, covered with splendid yellow damask, two sofas of +the same, the legs or arms of every one imperfect; a coarse wood +dressing-table, covered with fringed drapery and a sort of throne +pincushion, with an immense glass leaning over it, gilded probably in +the time of Henri Quatre; artificial flowers all around the room, and +prints of Atala and _Napoleon mourant_ over the walls; windows opening +to the floor on hinges, damask and muslin curtains inside, and boxes +for flower-pots without; a bell-wire that pulls no bell, a bellows too +asthmatic even to wheeze, tongs that refuse to meet, and a carpet as +large as a table-cloth in the centre of the floor, may answer for an +inventory of the "parlor." The bedchamber, about half as large as the +boxes in Rattle-row, at Saratoga, opens by folding doors, and +discloses a bed, that, for tricksy ornament as well as size, might +look the bridal couch for a faery queen in a panorama; the same +golden-sprig damask looped over it, tent-fashion, with splendid +crimson cord, tassels, fringes, etc., and a pillow beneath that I +shall be afraid to sleep on, it is so dainty a piece of needle-work. +There is a delusion about it, positively. One cannot help imagining, +that all this splendor means something, and it would require a worse +evil than any of these little deficiencies of _comfort_ to disturb the +self-complacent, Captain-Jackson sort of feeling, with which one +throws his cloak on one sofa and his hat on the other, and spreads +himself out for a lounge before this mere apology of a French fire. + +But, for eating and drinking! if they cook better in Paris, I shall +have my passport altered. The next _prefet_ that signs it shall +substitute _gourmand_ for _proprietaire_. I will profess a palate, and +live to eat. Making every allowance for an appetite newly from sea, my +experience hitherto in this department of science is transcended in +the degree of a rushlight to Arcturus. + +I strolled about Havre from breakfast till dinner, seven or eight +hours, following curiosity at random, up one street and down another, +with a prying avidity which I fear travel will wear fast away. I must +compress my observations into a sentence or two, for my fire is out, +and this old castle of a hotel lets in the wind "shrewdly cold," and, +besides, the diligence calls for me in a few hours and one must sleep. + +Among my impressions the most vivid are--that, of the twenty thousand +inhabitants of Havre, by far the greater portion are women and +soldiers--that the buildings all look toppling, and insecurely antique +and unsightly--that the privates of the regular army are the most +stupid, and those of the national guard the most intelligent-looking +troops I ever saw--that the streets are filthy beyond endurance, and +the shops clean beyond all praise--that the women do all the buying +and selling, and cart-driving and sweeping, and even shoe-making, and +other sedentary craftswork, and at the same time have (the meanest of +them) an air of ambitious elegance and neatness, that sends your hand +to your hat involuntarily when you speak to them--that the children +speak French, and look like little old men and women, and the horses, +(the famed Norman breed) are the best of draught animals, and the +worst for speed in the world--and that, for extremes ridiculously +near, dirt and neatness, politeness and knavery, chivalry and +_petitesse_, of bearing and language, the people I have seen to-day +_must_ be pre-eminently remarkable, or France, for a laughing +philosopher, is a paradise indeed! And now for my pillow, till the +diligence calls. Good night. + + + + +LETTER IV. + + +PARIS.--It seems to me as if I were going back a month to recall my +departure from Havre, my memory is so clouded with later incidents. I +was awaked on the morning after I had written to you, by a servant, +who brought me at the same time a cup of coffee, and at about an hour +before daylight we were passing through the huge gates of the town on +our way to Paris. The whole business of diligence-travelling amused me +exceedingly. The construction of this vehicle has often been +described; but its separate apartments (at four different prices), its +enormous size, its comfort and clumsiness, and, more than all, the +driving of its postillions, struck me as equally novel and diverting. +This last mentioned performer on the whip and voice (the only two +accomplishments he at all cultivates), rides one of the three wheel +horses, and drives the four or seven which are in advance, as a +grazier in our country drives a herd of cattle, and they travel very +much in the same manner. There is leather enough in two of their +clumsy harnesses, to say nothing of the postillion's boots, to load a +common horse heavily. I never witnessed such a ludicrous absence of +contrivance and tact as in the appointments and driving of horses in a +diligence. It is so in everything in France, indeed. They do not +possess the quality as a nation. The story of the Gascoigne, who saw a +bridge for the first time, and admired the ingenious economy that +placed it across the river, instead of lengthwise, is hardly an +exaggeration. + +At daylight I found myself in the _coupe_ (a single seat for three in +the front of the body of the carriage, with windows before and at the +sides), with two whiskered and mustached companions, both very polite, +and very unintelligible. I soon suspected, by the science with which +my neighbor on the left hummed little snatches of popular operas, that +he was a professed singer (a conjecture which proved true), and it was +equally clear, from the complexion of the portfeuille on the lap of +the other, that his vocation was a liberal one--a conjecture which +proved true also, as he confessed himself a _diplomat_, when we became +better acquainted. For the first hour or more my attention was divided +between the dim but beautiful outline of the country by the slowly +approaching light of the dawn, and my nervousness at the distressing +want of skill in the postillion's driving. The increasing and singular +beauty of the country, even under the disadvantage of rain and the +late season, soon absorbed all my attention, however, and my +involuntary and half-suppressed exclamations of pleasure, so unusual +in an Englishman (for whom I found I was taken), warmed the +diplomatist into conversation, and I passed the three ensuing hours +very pleasantly. My companion was on his return from Lithuania, having +been sent out by the French committee with arms and money for Poland. +He was, of course, a most interesting fellow-traveller; and, allowing +for the difficulty with which I understood the language, in the rapid +articulation of an enthusiastic Frenchman, I rarely have been better +pleased with a chance acquaintance. I found he had been in Greece +during the revolution, and knew intimately my friend, Dr. Howe, the +best claim he could have on my interest, and, I soon discovered, an +answering recommendation of myself to him. + +The province of Normandy is celebrated for its picturesque beauty, but +I had no conception before of the _cultivated_ picturesque of an old +country. I have been a great scenery-hunter in America, and my eye was +new, like its hills and forests. The massive, battlemented buildings +of the small villages we passed through, the heavy gateways and +winding avenues and antique structure of the distant and half-hidden +chateaux, the perfect cultivation, and, to me, singular appearance of +a whole landscape without a fence or a stone, the absence of all that +we define by _comfort_ and _neatness_, and the presence of all that we +have seen in pictures and read of in books, but consider as the +representations and descriptions of ages gone by--all seemed to me +irresistibly like a dream. I could not rub my hand over my eyes, and +realize myself. I could not believe that, within a month's voyage of +my home, these spirit-stirring places had stood all my lifetime as +they do, and have--for ages--every stone as it was laid in times of +worm-eaten history--and looking to my eyes now as they did to the eyes +of knights and dames in the days of French chivalry. I looked at the +constantly-occurring ruins of the old priories, and the magnificent +and still-used churches, and my blood tingled in my veins, as I saw, +in the stepping-stones at their doors, cavities that the sandals of +monks, and the iron-shod feet of knights in armor a thousand years +ago, had trodden and helped to wear, and the stone cross over the +threshold, that hundreds of generations had gazed upon and passed +under. + +By a fortunate chance the postillion left the usual route at Balbec, +and pursued what appeared to be a bye-road through the grain-fields +and vineyards for twenty or twenty-five miles. I can only describe it +as an uninterrupted green lane, winding almost the whole distance +through the bosom of a valley that must be one of the very loveliest +in the world. Imagine one of such extent, without a fence to break the +broad swells of verdure, stretching up from the winding and unenclosed +road on either side, to the apparent sky; the houses occurring at +distances of miles, and every one with its thatched roof covered all +over with bright green moss, and its walls of marl interlaid through +all the crevices with clinging vines, the whole structure and its +appurtenances faultlessly picturesque, and, when you have conceived a +valley that might have contented Rasselas, scatter over it here and +there groups of men, women, and children, the Norman peasantry in +their dresses of all colors, as you see them in the prints--and if +there is anything that can better please the eye, or make the +imagination more willing to fold up its wings and rest, my travels +have not crossed it. I have recorded a vow to walk through Normandy. + +As we approached Rouen the road ascended gradually, and a sharp turn +brought us suddenly to the brow of a steep hill, opposite another of +the same height, and with the same abrupt descent, at the distance of +a mile across. Between, lay Rouen. I hardly know how to describe, for +American eyes, the peculiar beauty of this view; one of the most +exquisite, I am told, in all France. A town at the foot of a hill is +common enough in our country, but of the hundreds that answer to this +description, I can not name one that would afford a correct +comparison. The nice and excessive cultivation of the grounds in so +old a country gives the landscape a complexion essentially different +from ours. If there were another Mount Holyoke, for instance, on the +other side of the Connecticut, the situation of Northampton would be +very similar to that of Rouen; but, instead of the rural village, with +its glimpses of white houses seen through rich and luxurious masses of +foliage, the mountain sides above broken with rocks, and studded with +the gigantic and untouched relics of the native forest, and the fields +below waving with heavy crops, irregularly fenced and divided, the +whole picture one of an overlavish and half-subdued Eden of +fertility--instead of this I say--the broad meadows, with the winding +Seine in their bosom, are as trim as a girl's flower-garden, the grass +closely cut, and of a uniform surface of green, the edges of the river +set regularly with willows, the little bright islands circled with +trees, and smooth as a lawn; and instead of green lanes lined with +bushes, single streets running right through the unfenced verdure, +from one hill to another, and built up with antique structures of +stone--the whole looking, in the _coup d'oeil_ of distance, like +some fantastic model of a town, with gothic houses of sand-paper, and +meadows of silk velvet. + +You will find the size, population, etc., of Rouen in the guide-books. +As my object is to record impressions, not statistics, I leave you to +consult those laconic chronicles, or the books of a thousand +travellers, for all such information. The Maid of Orleans was burnt +here, as you know, in the fourteenth century. There is a statue +erected to her memory, which I did not see, for it rained; and after +the usual stop of two hours, as the barometer promised no change in +the weather, and as I was anxious to be in Paris, I took my place in +the night diligence and kept on. + +I amused myself till dark, watching the streams that poured into the +broad mouth of the postillion's boots from every part of his dress, +and musing on the fate of the poor Maid of Orleans; and then, sinking +down into the comfortable corner of the _coupe_, I slept almost +without interruption till the next morning--the best comment in the +world on the only _comfortable_ thing I have yet seen in France, a +diligence. + +It is a pleasant thing in a foreign land to see the familiar face of +the sun; and, as he rose over a distant hill on the left, I lifted the +window of the _coupe_ to let him in, as I would open the door to a +long-missed friend. He soon reached a heavy cloud, however, and my +hopes of bright weather, when we should enter the metropolis, +departed. It began to rain again; and the postilion, after his blue +cotton frock was soaked through, put on his greatcoat over it--an +economy which is peculiarly French, and which I observed in every +succeeding postilion on the route. The last twenty-five miles to Paris +are uninteresting to the eye; and with my own pleasant thoughts, tinct +as they were with the brightness of immediate anticipation, and an +occasional laugh at the grotesque figures and equipages on the road, I +made myself passably contented till I entered the suburb of St. Denis. + +It is something to see the outside of a sepulchre for kings, and the +old abbey of St. Denis needs no association to make a sight of it +worth many a mile of weary travel. I could not stop within four miles +of Paris, however, and I contented myself with running to get a second +view of it in the rain while the postilion breathed his horses. The +strongest association about it, old and magnificent as it is, is the +fact that Napoleon repaired it after the revolution; and standing in +probably the finest point for its front view, my heart leaped to my +throat as I fancied that Napoleon, with his mighty thoughts, had stood +in that very spot, possibly, and contemplated the glorious old pile +before me as the place of his future repose. + +After four miles more, over a broad straight avenue, paved in the +centre and edged with trees, we arrived at the port of St. Denis. I +was exceedingly struck with the grandeur of the gate as we passed +under, and, referring to the guide-book, I find it was a triumphal +arch erected to Louis XIV., and the one by which the kings of France +invariably enter. This also was restored by Napoleon, with his +infallible taste, without changing its design: and it is singular how +everything that great man touched became his own--for, who remembers +for whom it was raised while he is told who employed his great +intellect in its repairs? + +I entered Paris on Sunday at eleven o'clock. I never should have +recognized the day. The shops were all open, the artificers all at +work, the unintelligible criers vociferating their wares, and the +people in their working-day dresses. We wound through street after +street, narrow and dark and dirty, and with my mind full of the +splendid views of squares, and columns, and bridges, as I had seen +them in the prints, I could scarce believe I was in Paris. A turn +brought us into a large court, that of the Messagerie, the place at +which all travellers are set down on arrival. Here my baggage was once +more inspected, and, after a half-hour's delay, I was permitted to get +into a _fiacre_, and drive to a hotel. As one is a specimen of all, I +may as well describe the _Hotel d'Etrangers_, Rue Vivienne, which, by +the way, I take the liberty at the same time to recommend to my +friends. It is the precise centre for the convenience of sight-seeing, +admirably kept, and, being nearly opposite Galignani's, that bookstore +of Europe, is a very pleasant resort for the half hour before dinner, +or a rainy day. I went there at the instance of my friend the +_diplomat_. + +The _fiacre_ stopped before an arched passage, and a fellow in +livery, who had followed me from the Messagerie (probably in the +double character of porter and police agent, as my passport was yet to +be demanded), took my trunk into a small office on the left, over +which was written "_Concierge_." This person, who is a kind of +respectable doorkeeper, addressed me in broken English, without +waiting for the evidence of my tongue, that I was a foreigner, and, +after inquiring at what price I would have a room, introduced me to +the landlady, who took me across a large court (the houses are built +_round_ the yard always in France), to the corresponding story of the +house. The room was quite pretty, with its looking-glasses and +curtains, but there was no carpet, and the fireplace was ten feet +deep. I asked to see another, and another, and another; they were all +curtains and looking-glasses, and stone-floors! There is no wearying a +French woman, and I pushed my modesty till I found a chamber to my +taste--a nutshell, to be sure, but carpeted--and bowing my polite +housekeeper out, I rang for breakfast and was at home in Paris. + +There are few things bought with money that are more delightful than a +French breakfast. If you take it at your room, it appears in the shape +of two small vessels, one of coffee and one of hot milk, two kinds of +bread, with a thin, printed slice of butter, and one or two of some +thirty dishes from which you choose, the latter flavored exquisitely +enough to make one wish to be always at breakfast, but cooked and +composed I know not how or of what. The coffee has an aroma peculiarly +exquisite, something quite different from any I ever tasted before; +and the _petit-pain_, a slender biscuit between bread and cake, is, +when crisp and warm, a delightful accompaniment. All this costs about +one third as much as the beefsteaks and coffee in America, and at the +same time that you are waited upon with a civility that is worth three +times the money. + +It still rained at noon, and, finding that the usual dinner hour was +five, I took my umbrella for a walk. In a strange city I prefer always +to stroll about at hazard, coming unawares upon what is fine or +curious. The hackneyed descriptions in the guidebooks profane the +spirit of a place; I never look at them till after I have found the +object, and then only for dates. The Rue Vivienne was crowded with +people, as I emerged from the dark archway of the hotel to pursue my +wanderings. + +A walk of this kind, by the way, shows one a great deal of novelty. In +France there are no shop-_men_. No matter what is the article of +trade--hats, boots, pictures, books, jewellery, anything or everything +that gentlemen buy--you are waited upon by girls, always handsome, and +always dressed in the height of the mode. They sit on damask-covered +settees, behind the counters; and, when you enter, bow and rise to +serve you, with a grace and a smile of courtesy that would become a +drawing-room. And this is universal. + +I strolled on until I entered a narrow passage, penetrating a long +line of buildings. It was thronged with people, and passing in with +the rest, I found myself unexpectedly in a scene that equally +surprised and delighted me. It was a spacious square enclosed by one +entire building. The area was laid out as a garden, planted with long +avenues of trees and beds of flowers, and in the centre a fountain was +playing in the shape of a _fleur-de-lis_, with a jet about forty feet +in height. A superb colonnade ran round the whole square, making a +covered gallery of the lower story, which was occupied by shops of the +most splendid appearance, and thronged through its long sheltered +_paves_ by thousands of gay promenaders. It was the far-famed _Palais +Royal_. I remembered the description I had heard of its gambling +houses, and facilities for every vice, and looked with a new surprise +on its Aladdin-like magnificence. The hundreds of beautiful pillars, +stretching away from the eye in long and distant perspective, the +crowd of citizens, and women, and officers in full uniform, passing +and re-passing with French liveliness and politeness, the long windows +of plated glass glittering with jewellery, and bright with everything +to tempt the fancy, the tall sentinels pacing between the columns, and +the fountain turning over its clear waters with a fall audible above +the tread and voices of the thousands who walked around it--who could +look upon such a scene and believe it what it is, the most corrupt +spot, probably, on the face of the civilized world? + + + + +LETTER V. + + THE LOUVRE--AMERICANS IN PARIS--POLITICS, ETC. + + +The salient object in my idea of Paris has always been the Louvre. I +have spent some hours in its vast gallery to-day and I am sure it will +retain the same prominence in my recollections. The whole palace is +one of the oldest, and said to be one of the finest, in Europe; and, +if I may judge from its impressiveness, the vast inner court (the +_facades_ of which were restored to their original simplicity by +Napoleon), is a specimen of high architectural perfection. One could +hardly pass through it without being better fitted to see the +masterpieces of art within; and it requires this, and all the +expansiveness of which the mind is capable besides, to walk through +the _Musee Royale_ without the painful sense of a magnificence beyond +the grasp of the faculties. + +I delivered my passport at the door of the palace, and, as is +customary, recorded my name, country, and profession in the book, and +proceeded to the gallery. The grand double staircase, one part leading +to the private apartments of the royal household, is described +voluminously in the authorities; and, truly, for one who has been +accustomed to convenient dimensions only, its breadth, its lofty +ceilings, its pillars and statuary, its mosaic pavements and splendid +windows, are enough to unsettle for ever the standards of size and +grandeur. The strongest feeling one has, as he stops half way up to +look about him, is the ludicrous disproportion between it and the size +of the inhabiting animals. I should smile to see any man ascend such a +staircase, except, perhaps, Napoleon. + +Passing through a kind of entrance-hall, I came to a spacious _salle +ronde_, lighted from the ceiling, and hung principally with pictures +of a large size, one of the most conspicuous of which, "The Wreck," +has been copied by an American artist, Mr. Cooke, and is now +exhibiting in New York. It is one of the best of the French school, +and very powerfully conceived. I regret, however, that he did not +prefer the wonderfully fine piece opposite, which is worth all the +pictures ever painted in France, "The Marriage Supper at Cana." The +left wing of the table, projected toward the spectator, with seven or +eight guests who occupy it, absolutely stands out into the hall. It +seems impossible that color and drawing upon a flat surface can so +cheat the eye. + +From the _salle ronde_, on the right opens the grand gallery, which, +after the lesson I had just received in perspective, I took, at the +first glance, to be a painting. You will realize the facility of the +deception when you consider, that, with a breadth of but forty-two +feet, this gallery is one thousand three hundred and thirty-two feet +(more than a quarter of a mile) in length. The floor is of tesselated +woods, polished with wax like a table; and along its glassy surface +were scattered perhaps a hundred visiters, gazing at the pictures in +varied attitudes, and with sizes reduced in proportion to their +distance, the farthest off looking, in the long perspective, like +pigmies of the most diminutive description. It is like a matchless +painting to the eye, after all. The ceiling is divided by nine or ten +arches, standing each on four Corinthian columns, projecting into the +area; and the natural perspective of these, and the artists scattered +from one end to the other, copying silently at their easels, and a +soldier at every division, standing upon his guard, quite as silent +and motionless, would make it difficult to convince a spectator, who +was led blindfold and unprepared to the entrance, that it was not some +superb diorama, figures and all. + +I found our distinguished countryman, Morse, copying a beautiful +Murillo at the end of the gallery. He is also engaged upon a Raffaelle +for Cooper, the novelist. Among the French artists, I noticed several +soldiers, and some twenty or thirty females, the latter with every +mark in their countenances of absorbed and extreme application. There +was a striking difference in this respect between them and the artists +of the other sex. With the single exception of a lovely girl, drawing +from a Madonna, by Guido, and protected by the presence of an elderly +companion, these lady painters were anything but interesting in their +appearance. + +Greenough, the sculptor, is in Paris, and engaged just now in taking +the bust of an Italian lady. His reputation is now very enviable; and +his passion for his art, together with his untiring industry and his +fine natural powers, will work him up to something that will, before +long, be an honor to our country. If the wealthy men of taste in +America would give Greenough liberal orders for his time and talents, +and send out Augur, of New Haven, to Italy, they would do more to +advance this glorious art in our country, than by expending ten times +the sum in any other way. They are both men of rare genius, and both +ardent and diligent, and they are both cramped by the universal curse +of genius--necessity. The Americans in Paris are deliberating at +present on some means for expressing unitedly to our government their +interest in Greenough, and their appreciation of his merit of public +and private patronage. For the love of true taste, do everything in +your power to second such an appeal when it comes. + + * * * * * + +It is a queer feeling to find oneself a _foreigner_. One cannot +realize, long at a time, how his face or his manners should have +become peculiar; and, after looking at a print for five minutes in a +shop window, or dipping into an English book, or in any manner +throwing off the mental habit of the instant, the curious gaze of the +passer by, or the accent of a strange language, strikes one very +singularly. Paris is full of foreigners of all nations, and of course, +physiognomies of all characters may be met everywhere, but, differing +as the European nations do decidedly from each other, they differ +still more from the American. Our countrymen, as a class, are +distinguishable wherever they are met; not as Americans however, for, +of the habits and manners of our country, people know nothing this +side the water. But there is something in an American face, of which I +never was aware till I met them in Europe, that is altogether +peculiar. The French take the Americans to be English: but an +Englishman, while he presumes him his countryman, shows a curiosity to +know who he is, which is very foreign to his usual indifference. As +far as I can analyze it, it is the independent self-possessed bearing +of a man unused to look up to any one as his superior in rank, united +to the inquisitive, sensitive, communicative expression which is the +index to our national character. The first is seldom possessed in +England but by a man of decided rank, and the latter is never +possessed by an Englishman at all. The two are united in no other +nation. Nothing is easier than to tell the rank of an Englishman, and +nothing puzzles a European more than to know how to rate the +pretensions of an American. + + * * * * * + +On my way home from the Boulevards this evening, I was fortunate +enough to pass through the grand court of the Louvre, at the moment +when the moon broke through the clouds that have concealed her own +light and the sun's ever since I have been in France. I had often +stopped, in passing the sentinels at the entrance, to admire the +grandeur of the interior to this oldest of the royal palaces; but +to-night, my dead halt within the shadow of the arch, as the view +broke upon my eye, and my sudden exclamation in English, startled the +grenadier, and he had half presented his musket, when I apologized and +passed on. It was magically beautiful indeed! and, with the moonlight +pouring obliquely into the sombre area, lying full upon the taller of +the three _facades_, and drawing its soft line across the rich windows +and massive pilasters and arches of the eastern and western, while the +remaining front lay in the heavy black shadow of relief, it seemed to +me more like an accidental regularity in some rocky glen of America, +than a pile of human design and proportion. It is strange how such +high walls shut out the world. The court of the Louvre is in the very +centre of the busiest quarter of Paris, thousands of persons passing +and repassing constantly at the extremity of the long arched +entrances, and yet, standing on the pavement of that lonely court, no +living creature in sight but the motionless grenadiers at either gate, +the noises without coming to your ear in a subdued murmur, like the +wind on the sea, and nothing visible above but the sky, resting like a +ceiling on the lofty walls, the impression of utter solitude is +irresistible. I passed out by the archway for which Napoleon +constructed his bronze gates, said to be the most magnificent of +modern times, and which are now lying in some obscure corner unused, +no succeeding power having had the spirit or the will to complete, +even by the slight labor that remained, his imperial design. All over +Paris you may see similar instances; they meet you at every step: +glorious plans defeated; works, that with a mere moiety of what has +been already expended in their progress, might be finished with an +effect that none but a mind like Napoleon's could have originally +projected. + + * * * * * + +Paris, of course, is rife with politics. There is but one opinion on +the subject of another pending revolution. The "people's king" is +about as unpopular as he need be for the purposes of his enemies; and +he has aggravated the feeling against him very unnecessarily by his +late project in the Tuileries. The whole thing is very characteristic +of the French people. He might have deprived them of half their civil +rights without immediate resistance; but to cut off a strip of the +public garden to make a play ground for his children--to encroach a +hundred feet on the pride of Paris, the daily promenade of the idlers, +who do all the discussion of his measures, it was a little too +venturesome. Unfortunately, too, the offence is in the very eye of +curiosity, and the workmen are surrounded, from morning till night, by +thousands of people, of all classes, gesticulating, and looking at the +palace windows and winding themselves gradually up to the +revolutionary pitch. + +In the event of an explosion, the liberal party will not want +partizans, for France is crowded with refugees from tyranny, of every +nation. The Poles are flocking hither every day, and the streets are +full of their melancholy faces! Poor fellows! they suffer dreadfully +from want. The public charity for refugees has been wrung dry long +ago, and the most heroic hearts of Poland, after having lost +everything but life, in their unavailing struggle, are starving +absolutely in the streets. Accident has thrown me into the confidence +of a well-known liberal--one of those men of whom the proud may ask +assistance without humiliation, and circumstances have thus come to my +knowledge, which would move a heart of stone. The fictitious +sufferings of "Thaddeus of Warsaw," are transcended in real-life +misery every day, and by natures quite as noble. Lafayette, I am +credibly assured, has anticipated several years of his income in +relieving them; and no possible charity could be so well bestowed as +contributions for the Poles, starving in these heartless cities. + +I have just heard that Chodsko, a Pole, of distinguished talent and +learning, who threw his whole fortune and energy into the late +attempted revolution, was arrested here last night, with eight others +of his countrymen, under suspicion by the government. The late serious +insurrection at Lyons has alarmed the king, and the police is +exceedingly strict. The Spanish and Italian refugees, who receive +pensions from France, have been ordered off to the provincial towns, +by the minister of the interior, and there is every indication of +extreme and apprehensive caution. The papers, meantime, are raving +against the ministry in the most violent terms, and the king is abused +without qualification, everywhere. + +I went, a night or two since, to one of the minor theatres to see the +representation of a play, which has been performed for the _hundred +and second time_!--"Napoleon at Schoenbrun and St. Helena." My object +was to study the feelings of the people toward Napoleon II., as the +exile's love for his son is one of the leading features of the piece. +It was beautifully played--most beautifully! and I never saw more +enthusiasm manifested by an audience. Every allusion of Napoleon to +his child, was received with that undertoned, gutteral acclamation, +that expresses such deep feeling in a crowd; and the piece is so +written that its natural pathos alone is irresistible. No one could +doubt for an instant, it seems to me, that the entrance of young +Napoleon into France, at any critical moment, would be universally and +completely triumphant. The great cry at Lyons was "_Vive Napoleon +II.!_" + +I have altered my arrangements a little, in consequence of the state +of feeling here. My design was to go to Italy immediately, but affairs +promise such an interesting and early change, that I shall pass the +winter in Paris. + + + + +LETTER VI. + + TAGLIONI--FRENCH STAGE, ETC. + + +I went last night to the French opera, to see the first dancer of the +world. The prodigious enthusiasm about her, all over Europe, had, of +course, raised my expectations to the highest possible pitch. "_Have +you seen Taglioni?_" is the first question addressed to a stranger in +Paris; and you hear her name constantly over all the hum of the +_cafes_ and in the crowded resorts of fashion. The house was +overflowed. The king and his numerous family were present; and my +companion pointed out to me many of the nobility, whose names and +titles have been made familiar to our ears by the innumerable private +memoirs and autobiographies of the day. After a little introductory +piece, the king arrived, and, as soon as the cheering was over, the +curtain drew up for "_Le Dieu et la Bayadere_." This is the piece in +which Taglioni is most famous. She takes the part of a dancing girl, +of whom the Bramah and an Indian prince are both enamored; the former +in the disguise of a man of low rank at the court of the latter, in +search of some one whose love for him shall be disinterested. The +disguised god succeeds in winning her affection, and, after testing +her devotion by submitting for a while to the resentment of his rival, +and by a pretended caprice in favor of a singing girl, who accompanies +her, he marries her, and then saves her from the flames as she is +about to be burned for marrying beneath her _caste_. Taglioni's part +is all pantomime. She does not speak during the play, but her motion +is more than articulate. Her first appearance was in a troop of Indian +dancing girls, who performed before the prince in the public square. +At a signal from the vizier a side pavilion opened, and thirty or +forty bayaderes glided out together, and commenced an intricate dance. +They were received with a tremendous round of applause from the +audience; but, with the exception of a little more elegance in the +four who led the dance, they were dressed nearly alike; and as I saw +no particularly conspicuous figure, I presumed that Taglioni had not +yet appeared. The splendor of the spectacle bewildered me for the +first moment or two, but I presently found my eyes rivetted to a +childish creature floating about among the rest, and, taking her for +some beautiful young _eleve_ making her first essays in the chorus, I +interpreted her extraordinary fascination as a triumph of nature over +my unsophisticated taste; and wondered to myself whether, after all, I +should be half so much captivated with the show of skill I expected +presently to witness. _This was Taglioni!_ She came forward directly, +in a _pas seul_, and I then observed that her dress was distinguished +from that of her companions by its extreme modesty both of fashion and +ornament, and the unconstrained ease with which it adapted itself to +her shape and motion. She looks not more than fifteen. Her figure is +small, but rounded to the very last degree of perfection; not a muscle +swelled beyond the exquisite outline; not an angle, not a fault. Her +back and neck, those points so rarely beautiful in woman, are +faultlessly formed; her feet and hands are in full proportion to her +size, and the former play as freely and with as natural a yieldingness +in her fairy slippers, as if they were accustomed only to the dainty +uses of a drawing-room. Her face is most strangely interesting; not +quite beautiful, but of that half-appealing, half-retiring sweetness +that you sometimes see blended with the secluded reserve and +unconscious refinement of a young girl just "out" in a circle of high +fashion. In her greatest exertions her features retain the same timid +half smile, and she returns to the alternate by-play of her part +without the slightest change of color, or the slightest perceptible +difference in her breathing, or in the ease of her look and posture. +No language can describe her motion. She swims in your eye like a curl +of smoke, or a flake of down. Her difficulty seems to be to keep to +the floor. You have the feeling while you gaze upon her, that, if she +were to rise and float away like Ariel, you would scarce be surprised. +And yet all is done with such a childish unconsciousness of +admiration, such a total absence of exertion or fatigue, that the +delight with which she fills you is unmingled; and, assured as you are +by the perfect purity of every look and attitude, that her hitherto +spotless reputation is deserved beyond a breath of suspicion, you +leave her with as much respect as admiration; and find with surprise +that a dancing girl, who is exposed night after night to the profaning +gaze of the world, has crept into one of the most sacred niches of +your memory. + + * * * * * + +I have attended several of the best theatres in Paris, and find one +striking trait in all their first actors--_nature_. They do not look +like actors, and their playing is not like acting. They are men, +generally, of the most earnest, unstudied simplicity of countenance; +and when they come upon the stage, it is singularly without +affectation, and as the character they represent would appear. Unlike +most of the actors I have seen, too, they seem altogether unaware of +the presence of the audience. Nothing disturbs the fixed attention +they give to each other in the dialogue, and no private interview +between simple and sincere men could be more unconscious and natural. +I have formed consequently a high opinion of the French drama, +degenerate as it is said to be since the loss of Talma; and it is easy +to see that the root of its excellence is in the taste and judgment of +the people. _They applaud judiciously._ When Taglioni danced her +wonderful _pas seul_, for instance, the applause was general and +sufficient. It was a triumph of art, and she was applauded as an +artist. But when, as the neglected bayadere, she stole from the corner +of the cottage, and, with her indescribable grace, hovered about the +couch of the disguised Bramah, watching and fanning him while he +slept, she expressed so powerfully, by the saddened tenderness of her +manner, the devotion of a love that even neglect could not estrange, +that a murmur of delight ran through the whole house; and, when her +silent pantomime was interrupted by the waking of the god, there was +an overwhelming tumult of acclamation that came from the _hearts_ of +the audience, and as such must have been both a lesson, and the +highest compliment, to Taglioni. An actor's taste is of course very +much regulated by that of his audience. He will cultivate that for +which he is most praised. We shall never have a high-toned drama in +America, while, as at present, applause is won only by physical +exertion, and the nice touches of genius and nature pass undetected +and unfelt. + +Of the French actresses, I have been most pleased with Leontine Fay. +She is not much talked of here, and perhaps, as a mere artist in her +profession, is inferior to those who are more popular; but she has +that indescribable something in her face that has interested me +through life--that strange talisman which is linked wisely to every +heart, confining its interest to some nice difference invisible to +other eyes, and, by a happy consequence, undisputed by other +admiration. She, too, has that retired sweetness of look that seems to +come only from secluded habits, and in the highly-wrought passages of +tragedy, when her fine dark eyes are filled with tears, and her tones, +which have never the out-of-doors key of the stage, are clouded and +imperfect, she seems less an actress than a refined and lovely woman, +breaking through the habitual reserve of society in some agonizing +crisis of real life. There are prints of Leontine Fay in the shops, +and I have seen them in America, but they resemble her very little. + + + + +LETTER VII. + + JOACHIM LELEWEL--PALAIS ROYAL--PERE LA CHAISE--VERSAILLES, ETC. + + +I met, at a breakfast party, to-day, Joachim Lelewel, the celebrated +scholar and patriot of Poland. Having fallen in with a great deal of +revolutionary and emigrant society since I have been in Paris, I have +often heard his name, and looked forward to meeting him with high +pleasure and curiosity. His writings are passionately admired by his +countrymen. He was the principal of the university, idolized by that +effective part of the population, the students of Poland; and the +fearless and lofty tone of his patriotic principles is said to have +given the first and strongest momentum to the ill-fated struggle just +over. Lelewel impressed me very strongly. Unlike most of the Poles, +who are erect, athletic, and florid, he is thin, bent, and pale; and +were it not for the fire and decision of his eye, his uncertain gait +and sensitive address would convey an expression almost of timidity. +His form, features, and manners, are very like those of Percival, the +American poet, though their countenances are marked with the +respective difference of their habits of mind. Lelewel looks like a +naturally modest, shrinking man, worked up to the calm resolution of a +martyr. The strong stamp of his face is devoted enthusiasm. His eye is +excessively bright, but quiet and habitually downcast; his lips are +set firmly, but without effort, together; and his voice is almost +sepulchral, it is so low and calm. He never breaks through his +melancholy, though his refugee countrymen, except when Poland is +alluded to, have all the vivacity of French manners, and seem easily +to forget their misfortunes. He was silent, except when particularly +addressed, and had the air of a man who thought himself unobserved, +and had shrunk into his own mind. I felt that he was winning upon my +heart every moment. I never saw a man in my life whose whole air and +character were so free from self-consciousness or pretension--never +one who looked to me so capable of the calm, lofty, unconquerable +heroism of a martyr. + + * * * * * + +"Paris is the centre of the world," if centripetal tendency is any +proof of it. Everything struck off from the other parts of the +universe flies straight to the _Palais Royal_. You may meet in its +thronged galleries, in the course of an hour, representatives of every +creed, rank, nation, and system, under heaven. Hussein Pacha and Don +Pedro pace daily the same _pave_--the one brooding on a kingdom lost, +the other on the throne he hopes to win; the Polish general and the +proscribed Spaniard, the exiled Italian conspirator, the contemptuous +Turk, the well-dressed negro from Hayti, and the silk-robed Persian, +revolve by the hour together around the same _jet d'eau_, and costumes +of every cut and order, mustaches and beards of every degree of +ferocity and oddity, press so fast and thick upon the eye that one +forgets to be astonished. There are no such things as "lions" in +Paris. The extraordinary persons outnumber the ordinary. Every other +man you meet would keep a small town in a ferment for a month. + + * * * * * + +I spent yesterday at _Pere la Chaise_, and to day at _Versailles_. The +two places are in opposite environs, and of very opposite +characters--one certainly making you in love with life, the other +almost as certainly with death. One could wander for ever in the +wilderness of art at Versailles, and it must be a restless ghost that +could not content itself with _Pere la Chaise_ for its elysium. + +This beautiful cemetery is built upon the broad ascent of a hill, +commanding the whole of Paris at a glance. It is a wood of small +trees, laid out in alleys, and crowded with tombs and monuments of +every possible description. You will scarce get through without being +surprised into a tear; but, if affectation and fantasticalness in such +a place do not more grieve than amuse you, you will much oftener +smile. The whole thing is a melancholy mock of life. Its distinctions +are all kept up. There are the fashionable avenues, lined with costly +chapels and monuments, with the names of the exclusive tenants in +golden letters upon the doors, iron railings set forbiddingly about +the shrubs, and the blessing-scrap writ ambitiously in Latin. The +tablets record the long family titles, and the offices and honors, +perhaps the numberless virtues of the dead. They read like chapters of +heraldry more than like epitaphs. It is a relief to get into the outer +alleys, and see how poverty and simple feeling express what should be +the same thing. It is usually some brief sentence, common enough, but +often exquisitely beautiful in this prettiest of languages, and +expressing always the _kind_ of sorrow felt by the mourner. You can +tell, for instance, by the sentiment simply, without looking at the +record below, whether the deceased was young, or much loved, or +mourned by husband, or parent, or brother, or a circle of all. I +noticed one, however, the humblest and simplest monument perhaps in +the whole cemetery, which left the story beautifully untold; it was a +slab of common marl, inscribed "_Pauvre Marie!_"--nothing more. I have +thought of it, and speculated upon it, a great deal since. What was +she? and who wrote her epitaph? _why_ was she _pauvre Marie_? + +Before almost all the poorer monuments is a minature garden with a low +wooden fence, and either the initials of the dead sown in flowers, or +rose-trees, carefully cultivated, trained to hang over the stone. I +was surprised to find, in a public cemetery, in December, roses in +full bloom and valuable exotics at almost every grave. It speaks both +for the sentiment and delicate principle of the people. Few of the +more costly monuments were either interesting or pretty. One struck my +fancy--a small open chapel, large enough to contain four chairs, with +the slab facing the door, and a crucifix encircled with fresh flowers +on a simple shrine above. It is a place where the survivors in a +family might come and sit at any time, nowhere more pleasantly. From +the chapel I speak of, you may look out and see all Paris; and I can +imagine how it would lessen the feeling of desertion and forgetfulness +that makes the anticipation of death so dreadful, to be certain that +your friends would come, as they may here, and talk cheerfully and +enjoy themselves near you, so to speak. The cemetery in summer must be +one of the sweetest places in the world. + + * * * * * + +_Versailles_ is a royal summer chateau, about twelve miles from Paris, +with a demesne of twenty miles in circumference. Take that for the +scale, and imagine a palace completed in proportion, in all its +details of grounds, ornament, and architecture. It cost, says the +guide book, two hundred and fifty millions of dollars; and, leaving +your fancy to expend that trifle over a residence, which, remember, is +but one out of some half dozen, occupied during the year by a single +family, I commend the republican moral to your consideration, and +proceed with the more particular description of my visit. + +My friend, Dr. Howe, was my companion. We drove up the grand avenue on +one of the loveliest mornings that ever surprised December with a +bright sun and a warm south wind. Before us, at the distance of a +mile, lay a vast mass of architecture, with the centre, falling back +between the two projecting wings, the whole crowning a long and +gradual ascent, of which the tri-colored flag waving against the sky +from the central turrets was the highest point. As we approached, we +noticed an occasional flash in the sun, and a stir of bright colors, +through the broad deep court between the wings, which, as we advanced +nearer, proved to be a body of about two or three thousand lancers and +troops of the line under review. The effect was indescribably fine. +The gay uniforms, the hundreds of tall lances, each with its red flag +flying in the wind, the imposing crescent of architecture in which the +array was embraced, the ringing echo of the grand military music from +the towers--and all this intoxication for the positive senses fused +with the historical atmosphere of the place, the recollection of the +king and queen, whose favorite residence it had been (the unfortunate +Louis and Marie Antoinette), or the celebrated women who had lived in +their separate palaces within its grounds, of the genius and chivalry +of Court after Court that had made it, in turn, the scene of their +brilliant follies, and, over all, Napoleon, who _must_ have rode +through its gilded gates with the thought of pride that he was its +imperial master by the royalty of his great nature alone--it was in +truth, enough, the real and the ideal, to dazzle the eyes of a simple +republican. + +After gazing at the fascinating show for an hour, we took a guide and +entered the palace. We were walked through suite after suite of cold +apartments, desolately splendid with gold and marble, and crowded with +costly pictures, till I was sick and weary of magnificence. The guide +went before, saying over his rapid rigmarole of names and dates, +giving us about three minutes to a room in which there were some +twenty pictures, perhaps, of which he presumed he had told us all that +was necessary to know. I fell behind, after a while; and, as a +considerable English party had overtaken and joined us, I succeeded in +keeping one room in the rear, and enjoying the remainder in my own +way. + +The little marble palace, called "_Petit Trianon_," built for Madame +Pompadour in the garden grounds, is a beautiful affair, full of what +somebody calls "affectionate-looking rooms;" and "_Grand Trianon_," +built also on the grounds at the distance of half a mile, for Madame +Maintenon, is a very lovely spot, made more interesting by the +preference given to it over all other places by Marie Antoinette. Here +she amused herself with her Swiss village. The cottages and artificial +"mountains" (ten feet high, perhaps) are exceedingly pretty models in +miniature, and probably illustrate very fairly the ideas of a +palace-bred fancy upon natural scenery. There are glens and grottoes, +and rocky beds for brooks that run at will ("_les rivieres a +volonte_," the guide called them), and trees set out upon the crags at +most uncomfortable angles, and every contrivance to make a lovely +lawn as inconveniently like nature as possible. The Swiss families, +however, must have been very amusing. Brought fresh from their wild +country, and set down in these pretty mock cottages, with orders to +live just as they did in their own mountains, they must have been +charmingly puzzled. In the midst of the village stands an exquisite +little Corinthian temple; and our guide informed us that the cottage +which the Queen occupied at her Swiss tea-parties was furnished at an +expense of sixty thousand francs--two not very Switzer-like +circumstances. + +It was in the little palace of _Trianon_ that Napoleon signed his +divorce from Josephine. The guide showed us the room, and the table on +which he wrote. I have seen nothing that brought me so near Napoleon. +There is no place in France that could have for me a greater interest. +It is a little _boudoir_, adjoining the state sleeping-room, simply +furnished, and made for familiar retirement, not for show. The single +sofa--the small round table--the enclosing, tent-like curtains--the +modest, unobtrusive elegance of ornaments, and furniture, give it +rather the look of a retreat, fashioned by the tenderness and taste of +private life, than any apartment in a royal palace. I felt unwilling +to leave it. My thoughts were too busy. What was the strongest motive +of that great man in this most affecting and disputed action of his +life? + +After having been thridded through the palaces, we had a few moments +left for the grounds. They are magnificent beyond description. We know +very little of this thing in America, as an art; but it is one, I have +come to think, that, in its requisition of genius, is scarce inferior +to architecture. Certainly the three palaces of Versailles together +did not impress me so much as the single view from the upper terrace +of the gardens. It stretches clear over the horizon. You stand on a +natural eminence that commands the whole country, and the plan seems +to you like some work of the Titans. The long sweep of the avenue, +with a breadth of descent that at the first glance takes away your +breath, stretching its two lines of gigantic statues and vases to the +water level; the wide, slumbering canal at its foot, carrying on the +eye to the horizon, like a river of an even flood lying straight +through the bosom of the landscape; the side avenues almost as +extensive; the palaces in the distant grounds, and the strange union +altogether, to an American, of as much extent as the eye can reach, +cultivated equally with the trim elegance of a garden--all these, +combining together, form a spectacle which nothing but nature's +royalty of genius could design, and (to descend ungracefully from the +climax) which only the exactions of an unnatural royalty could pay +for. + + * * * * * + +I think the most forcible lesson one learns at Paris is the value of +time and money. I have always been told, erroneously, that it was a +place to waste both. You could do so much with another hour, if you +had it, and buy so much with another dollar, if you could afford it, +that the reflected economy upon what you _can_ command, is inevitable. +As to the worth of time, for instance, there are some twelve or +fourteen _gratuitous_ lectures every day at the _Sorbonne_, the +_School of Medicine_ and the _College of France_, by men like Cuvier, +Say, Spurzheim, and others, each, in his professed pursuit, the most +eminent perhaps in the world; and there are the Louvre, and the Royal +Library, and the Mazarin Library, and similar public institutions, +all open to gratuitous use, with obsequious attendants, warm rooms, +materials for writing, and perfect seclusion; to say nothing of the +thousand interesting but less useful resorts with which Paris abounds, +such as exhibitions of flowers, porcelains, mosaics, and curious +handiwork of every description, and (more amusing and time-killing +still) the never-ending changes of sights in the public places, from +distinguished foreigners down to miracles of educated monkeys. Life +seems most provokingly short as you look at it. Then, for money, you +are more puzzled how to spend a poor pitiful franc in Paris (it will +buy so many things you want) than you would be in America with the +outlay of a month's income. Be as idle and extravagant as you will, +your idle hours look you in the face as they pass, to know whether, in +spite of the increase of their value, you really mean to waste them; +and the money that slipped through your pocket you know not how at +home, sticks embarrassed to your fingers, from the mere multiplicity +of demands made for it. There are shops all over Paris called the +"_Vingt-cinq-sous_," where every article is fixed at that +price--_twenty five cents_! They contain everything you want, except a +wife and fire-wood--the only two things difficult to be got in France. +(The latter, with or without a pun, is much the _dearer_ of the two.) +I wonder that they are not bought out, and sent over to America on +speculation. There is scarce an article in them that would not be held +cheap with us at five times its purchase. There are bronze standishes +for ink, sand, and wafers, pearl paper-cutters, spice-lamps, +decanters, essence-bottles, sets of china, table-bells of all devices, +mantel ornaments, vases of artificial flowers, kitchen utensils, +dog-collars, canes, guard-chains, chessmen whips, hammers, brushes, +and everything that is either convenient or pretty. You might freight +a ship with them, and all good and well finished, at twenty-five cents +the set or article! You would think the man were joking, to walk +through his shop. + + + + +LETTER VIII. + + DR. BOWRING--AMERICAN ARTISTS--BRUTAL AMUSEMENT, ETC. + + +I have met Dr. Bowring in Paris, and called upon him to-day with Mr. +Morse, by appointment. The translator of the "Ode to the Deity" (from +the Russian of Derzhavin) could not by any accident be an ordinary +man, and I anticipated great pleasure in his society. He received us +at his lodgings in the _Place Vendome_. I was every way pleased with +him. His knowledge of our country and its literature surprised me, and +I could not but be gratified with the unprejudiced and well-informed +interest with which he discoursed on our government and institutions. +He expressed great pleasure at having seen his ode in one of our +schoolbooks (Pierpont's Reader, I think), and assured us that the +promise to himself of a visit to America was one of his brightest +anticipations. This is not at all an uncommon feeling, by the way, +among the men of talent in Paris; and I am pleasingly surprised, +everywhere, with the enthusiastic hopes expressed for the success of +our experiment in liberal principles. Dr. Bowring is a slender man, a +little above the middle height, with a keen, inquisitive expression of +countenance, and a good forehead, from which the hair is combed +straight back all round, in the style of the Cameronians. His manner +is all life, and his motion and gesture nervously sudden and angular. +He talks rapidly, but clearly, and uses beautiful language--concise, +and full of select expressions and vivid figures. His conversation in +this particular was a constant surprise. He gave us a great deal of +information, and when we parted, inquired my route of travel, and +offered me letters to his friends, with a cordiality very unusual on +this side the Atlantic. + + * * * * * + +It is a cold but common rule with travellers in Europe to avoid the +society of their own countrymen. In a city like Paris, where time and +money are both so valuable, every additional acquaintance, pursued +either for etiquette or intimacy, is felt, and one very soon learns to +prefer his advantage to any tendency of his sympathies. The +infractions upon the rule, however, are very delightful, and, at the +general _reunion_ at our ambassador's on Wednesday evening, or an +occasional one at Lafayette's, the look of pleasure and relief at +beholding familiar faces, and hearing a familiar language once more, +is universal. I have enjoyed this morning the double happiness of +meeting an American circle, around an American breakfast. Mr. Cooper +had invited us (Morse, the artist, Dr. Howe, a gentleman of the navy, +and myself). Mr. C. lives with great hospitality, and in all the +comfort of American habits; and to find him as he is always found, +with his large family about him, is to get quite back to the +atmosphere of our country. The two or three hours we passed at his +table were, of course, delightful. It should endear Mr. Cooper to the +hearts of his countrymen, that he devotes all his influence, and no +inconsiderable portion of his large income, to the encouragement of +American artists. It would be natural enough, after being so long +abroad, to feel or affect a preference for the works of foreigners; +but in this, as in his political opinions, most decidedly, he is +eminently patriotic. We feel this in Europe, where we discern more +clearly by comparison the poverty of our country in the arts, and +meet, at the same time, American artists of the first talent, without +a single commission from home for original works, copying constantly +for support. One of Mr. Cooper's purchases, the "Cherubs," by +Greenough, has been sent to the United States, and its merit was at +once acknowledged. It was done, however (the artist, who is here, +informs me), under every disadvantage of feeling and circumstances; +and, from what I have seen and am told by others of Mr. Greenough, it +is, I am confident, however beautiful, anything but a fair specimen of +his powers. His peculiar taste lies in a bolder range, and he needs +only a commission from government to execute a work which will begin +the art of sculpture nobly in our country. + + * * * * * + +My curiosity led me into a strange scene to-day. I had observed for +some time among the placards upon the walls an advertisement of an +exhibition of "fighting animals," at the _Barriere du Combat_. I am +disposed to see almost any sight _once_, particularly where it is, +like this, a regular establishment, and, of course, an exponent of the +popular taste. The place of the "_Combats des Animaux_," is in one of +the most obscure suburbs, outside the walls, and I found it with +difficulty. After wandering about in dirty lanes for an hour or two, +inquiring for it in vain, the cries of the animals directed me to a +walled place, separated from the other houses of the suburb, at the +gate of which a man was blowing a trumpet. I purchased a ticket of an +old woman who sat shivering in the porter's lodge; and, finding I was +an hour too early for the fights, I made interest with a +savage-looking fellow, who was carrying in tainted meat, to see the +interior of the establishment. I followed him through a side gate, and +we passed into a narrow alley, lined with stone kennels, to each of +which was confined a powerful dog, with just length of chain enough to +prevent him from reaching the tenant of the opposite hole. There were +several of these alleys, containing, I should think, two hundred dogs +in all. They were of every breed of strength and ferocity, and all of +them perfectly frantic with rage or hunger, with the exception of a +pair of noble-looking black dogs, who stood calmly at the mouths of +their kennels; the rest struggled and howled incessantly, straining +every muscle to reach us, and resuming their fierceness toward each +other when we had passed by. They all bore, more or less, the marks of +severe battles; one or two with their noses split open, and still +unhealed; several with their necks bleeding and raw, and galled +constantly with the iron collar, and many with broken legs, but all +apparently so excited as to be insensible to suffering. After +following my guide very unwillingly through the several alleys, +deafened with the barking and howling of the savage occupants, I was +taken to the department of wild animals. Here were all the tenants of +the menagerie, kept in dens, opening by iron doors upon the pit in +which they fought. Like the dogs, they were terribly wounded; one of +the bears especially, whose mouth was torn all off from his jaws, +leaving his teeth perfectly exposed, and red with the continually +exuding blood. In one of the dens lay a beautiful deer, with one of +his haunches severely mangled, who, the man told me, had been hunted +round the pit by the dogs but a day or two before. He looked up at us, +with his large soft eye, as we passed, and, lying on the damp stone +floor, with his undressed wounds festering in the chilly atmosphere of +mid-winter, he presented a picture of suffering which made me ashamed +to the soul of my idle curiosity. + +The spectators began to collect, and the pit was cleared. Two thirds +of those in the amphitheatre were Englishmen, most of whom were +amateurs, who had brought dogs of their own to pit against the regular +mastiffs of the establishment. These were despatched first. A strange +dog was brought in by the collar, and loosed in the arena, and a +trained dog let in upon him. It was a cruel business. The sleek, +well-fed, good-natured animal was no match for the exasperated, hungry +savage he was compelled to encounter. One minute, in all the joy of a +release from his chain, bounding about the pit, and fawning upon his +master, and the next attacked by a furious mastiff, who was taught to +fasten on him at the first onset in a way that deprived him at once of +his strength; it was but a murderous exhibition of cruelty. The +combats between two of the trained dogs, however, were more equal. +These succeeded to the private contests, and were much more severe and +bloody. There was a small terrier among them, who disabled several +dogs successively, by catching at their fore-legs, and breaking them +instantly with a powerful jerk of his body. I was very much interested +in one of the private dogs, a large yellow animal, of a noble +expression of countenance, who fought several times very unwillingly, +but always gallantly and victoriously. There was a majesty about him, +which seemed to awe his antagonists. He was carried off in his +master's arms, bleeding and exhausted, after punishing the best dogs +of the establishment. + +The baiting of the wild animals succeeded the canine combats. Several +dogs (Irish, I was told), of a size and ferocity such as I had never +before seen, were brought in, and held in the leash opposite the den +of the bear whose head was so dreadfully mangled. + +The door was then opened by the keeper, but poor bruin shrunk from the +contest. The dogs became unmanageable at the sight of him, however, +and, fastening a chain to his collar, they drew him out by main force, +and immediately closed the grating. He fought gallantly, and gave more +wounds than he received, for his shaggy coat protected his body +effectually. The keepers rushed in and beat off the dogs, when they +had nearly finished peeling the remaining flesh from his head; and the +poor creature, perfectly blind and mad with pain, was dragged into his +den again, to await another day of _amusement_! + +I will not disgust you with more of these details. They fought several +foxes and wolves afterward, and, last of all, one of the small donkeys +of the country, a creature not so large as some of the dogs, was led +in, and the mastiffs loosed upon her. The pity and indignation I felt +at first at the cruelty of baiting so unwarlike an animal, I soon +found was quite unnecessary. She was the severest opponent the dogs +had yet found. She went round the arena at full gallop, with a dozen +savage animals springing at her throat, but she struck right and left +with her fore-legs, and at every kick with her heels threw one of them +clear across the pit. One or two were left motionless on the field, +and others carried off with their ribs kicked in, and their legs +broken, while their inglorious antagonist escaped almost unhurt. One +of the mastiffs fastened on her ear and threw her down, in the +beginning of the chase, but she apparently received no other injury. + +I had remained till the close of the exhibition with some violence to +my feelings, and I was very glad to get away. Nothing would tempt me +to expose myself to a similar disgust again. How the intelligent and +gentlemanly Englishmen whom I saw there, and whom I have since met in +the most refined society of Paris, can make themselves familiar, as +they evidently were, with a scene so brutal, I cannot very well +conceive. + + + + +LETTER IX. + + MALIBRAN--PARIS AT MIDNIGHT--A MOB, ETC. + + +Our beautiful and favorite MALIBRAN is playing in Paris this winter. I +saw her last night in Desdemona. The other theatres are so attractive, +between Taglioni, Robert le Diable (the new opera), Leontine Fay, and +the political pieces constantly coming out, that I had not before +visited the Italian opera. Madame Malibran is every way changed. She +sings, unquestionably, better than when in America. Her voice is +firmer, and more under control, but it has lost that gushing wildness, +that brilliant daringness of execution, that made her singing upon our +boards so indescribably exciting and delightful. Her person is perhaps +still more changed. The round, graceful fulness of her limbs and +features has yielded to a half-haggard look of care and exhaustion, +and I could not but think that there was more than Desdemona's +fictitious wretchedness in the expression of her face. Still, her +forehead and eyes have a beauty that is not readily lost, and she will +be a strikingly interesting, and even splendid creature, as long as +she can play. Her acting was extremely impassioned; and in the more +powerful passages of her part, she exceeded everything I had +conceived of the capacity of the human voice for pathos and melody. +The house was crowded, and the applause was frequent and universal. + +Madame Malibran, as you probably know, is divorced from the man whose +name she bears, and has married a violinist of the Italian orchestra. +She is just now in a state of health that will require immediate +retirement from the stage, and, indeed, has played already too long. +She came forward after the curtain dropped, in answer to the continual +demand of the audience, leaning heavily on Rubini, and was evidently +so exhausted as to be scarcely able to stand. She made a single +gesture, and was led off immediately, with her head drooping on her +breast, amid the most violent acclamations. She is a perfect passion +with the French, and seems to have out-charmed their usual caprice. + + * * * * * + +It was a lovely night, and after the opera I walked home. I reside a +long distance from the places of public amusement. Dr. Howe and myself +had stopped at a _cafe_ on the Italian Boulevards an hour, and it was +very late. The streets were nearly deserted--here and there a solitary +cabriolet with the driver asleep under his wooden apron, or the +motionless figure of a municipal guardsman, dozing upon his horse, +with his helmet and brazen armor glistening in the light of the lamps. +Nothing has impressed me more, by the way, than a body of these men +passing me in the night. I have once or twice met the King returning +from the theatre with a guard, and I saw them once at midnight on an +extraordinary patrol winding through the arch into the Place +Carrousel. Their equipments are exceedingly warlike (helmets of +brass, and coats of mail), and, with the gleam of the breast-plates +through their horsemen's cloaks, the tramp of hoofs echoing through +the deserted streets, and the silence and order of their march, it was +quite a realization of the descriptions of chivalry. + +We kept along the Boulevards to the Rue Richelieu. A carriage, with +footmen in livery, had just driven up to Frascati's, and, as we +passed, a young man of uncommon personal beauty jumped out and entered +that palace of gamblers. By his dress he was just from a ball, and the +necessity of excitement after a scene meant to be so gay, was an +obvious if not a fair satire on the happiness of the "gay" circle in +which he evidently moved. We turned down the Passage Panorama, perhaps +the most crowded thoroughfare in all Paris, and traversed its long +gallery without meeting a soul. The widely-celebrated _patisserie_ of +Felix, the first pastry-cook in the world, was the only shop open from +one extremity to the other. The guard, in his gray capote, stood +looking in at the window, and the girl, who had served the palates of +half the fashion and rank of Paris since morning, sat nodding fast +asleep behind the counter, paying the usual fatiguing penalty of +notoriety. The clock struck two as we passed the _facade_ of the +Bourse. This beautiful and central square is, night and day, the grand +rendezvous of public vice; and late as the hour was, its _pave_ was +still thronged with flaunting and painted women of the lowest +description, promenading without cloaks or bonnets, and addressing +every passer-by. + +The Palais Royal lay in our way, just below the Bourse, and we entered +its magnificent court with an exclamation of new pleasure. Its +thousand lamps were all burning brilliantly, the long avenues of trees +were enveloped in a golden atmosphere created by the bright radiation +of light through the mist, the Corinthian pillars and arches retreated +on either side from the eye in distinct and yet mellow perspective, +the fountain filled the whole palace with its rich murmur, and the +broad marble-paved galleries, so thronged by day, were as silent and +deserted as if the drowsy _gens d'armes_ standing motionless on their +posts were the only living beings that inhabited it. It was a scene +really of indescribable impressiveness. No one who has not seen this +splendid palace, enclosing with its vast colonnades so much that is +magnificent, can have an idea of its effect upon the imagination. I +had seen it hitherto only when crowded with the gay and noisy idlers +of Paris, and the contrast of this with the utter solitude it now +presented--not a single footfall to be heard on its floors, yet every +lamp burning bright, and the statues and flowers and fountains all +illuminated as if for a revel--was one of the most powerful and +captivating that I have ever witnessed. We loitered slowly down one of +the long galleries, and it seemed to me more like some creation of +enchantment than the public haunt it is of pleasure and merchandise. A +single figure, wrapped in a cloak, passed hastily by us and entered +the door to one of the celebrated "hells," in which the playing scarce +commences till this hour--but we met no other human being. + +We passed on from the grand court to the Galerie Nemours. This, as you +may find in the descriptions, is a vast hall, standing between the +east and west courts of the Palais Royal. It is sometimes called the +"glass gallery." The roof is of glass, and the shops, with fronts +entirely of windows, are separated only by long mirrors, reaching in +the shape of pillars from the roof to the floor. The pavement is +tesselated, and at either end stand two columns completing its form, +and dividing it from the other galleries into which it opens. The +shops are among the costliest in Paris; and what with the vast +proportions of the hall, its beautiful and glistening material, and +the lightness and grace of its architecture, it is, even when +deserted, one of the most fairy-like places in this fantastic city. It +is the lounging place of military men particularly; and every evening +from six to midnight, it is thronged by every class of gayly dressed +people, officers off duty, soldiers, polytechnic scholars, ladies, and +strangers of every costume and complexion, promenading to and fro in +the light of the _cafes_ and the dazzling shops, sheltered completely +from the weather, and enjoying, without expense or ceremony, a scene +more brilliant than the most splendid ball-room in Paris. We lounged +up and down the long echoing pavement an hour. It was like some kingly +"banquet hall deserted." The lamps burned dazzlingly bright, the +mirrors multiplied our figures into shadowy and silent attendants, and +our voices echoed from the glittering roof in the utter stillness of +the hour, as if we had broken in, Thalaba-like, upon some magical +palace of silence. + +It is singular how much the differences of time and weather affect +scenery. The first sunshine I saw in Paris, unsettled all my previous +impressions completely. I had seen every place of interest through the +dull heavy atmosphere of a week's rain, and it was in such leaden +colors alone that the finer squares and palaces had become familiar to +me. The effect of a clear sun upon them was wonderful. The sudden +gilding of the dome of the Invalides by Napoleon must have been +something like it. I took advantage of it to see everything over +again, and it seemed to me like another city. I never realized so +forcibly the beauty of sunshine. Architecture, particularly, is +nothing without it. Everything looks heavy and flat. The tracery of +the windows and relievos, meant to be definite and airy, appears +clumsy and confused, and the whole building flattens into a solid +mass, without design or beauty. + + * * * * * + +I have spent the whole day in a Paris mob. The arrival of General +Romarino and some of his companions from Warsaw, gave the malcontents +a plausible opportunity of expressing their dislike to the measures of +government; and, under cover of a public welcome to this distinguished +Pole, they assembled in immense numbers at the Port St. Denis, and on +the Boulevard Montmartre. It was very exciting altogether. The cavalry +were out, and patroled the streets in companies, charging upon the +crowd wherever there was a stand; the troops of the line marched up +and down the Boulevards, continually dividing the masses of people, +and forbidding any one to stand still. The shops were all shut, in +anticipation of an affray. The students endeavored to cluster, and +resisted, as far as they dared, the orders of the soldiery; and from +noon till night there was every prospect of a quarrel. The French are +a fine people under excitement. Their handsome and ordinarily +heartless faces become very expressive under the stronger emotions; +and their picturesque dresses and violent gesticulation, set off a +popular tumult exceedingly. I have been highly amused all day, and +have learned a great deal of what it is very difficult for a foreigner +to acquire--the language of French passion. They express themselves +very forcibly when angry. The constant irritation kept up by the +intrusion of the cavalry upon the sidewalks, and the rough manner of +dispersing gentlemen by sabre-blows and kicks with the stirrup, gave +me sufficient opportunity of judging. I was astonished, however, that +their summary mode of proceeding was borne at all. It is difficult to +mix in such a vast body, and not catch its spirit, and I found myself, +without knowing why, or rather with a full conviction that the +military measures were necessary and right, entering with all my heart +into the rebellious movements of the students, and boiling with +indignation at every dispersion by force. The students of Paris are +probably the worst subjects the king has. They are mostly young men of +from twenty to twenty-five, full of bodily vigor and enthusiasm, and +excitable to the last degree. Many of them are Germans, and no small +proportion Americans. They make a good _amalgam_ for a mob, dress +being the last consideration, apparently, with a medical or law +student in Paris. I never saw such a collection of atrocious-looking +fellows as are to be met at the lectures. The polytechnic scholars, on +the other hand, are the finest-looking body of young men I ever saw. +Aside from their uniform, which is remarkably neat and beautiful, +their figures and faces seem picked for spirit and manliness. They +have always a distinguished air in a crowd, and it is easy, after +seeing them, to imagine the part they played as leaders in the +revolution of the three days. + +Contrary to my expectation, night came on without any serious +encounter. One or two individuals attempted to resist the authority of +the troops, and were considerably bruised; and one young man, a +student, had three of his fingers cut off by the stroke of a dragoon's +sabre. Several were arrested, but by eight o'clock all was quiet, and +the shops on the Boulevards once more exposed their tempting goods, +and lit up their brilliant mirrors without fear. The people thronged +to the theatres to see the political pieces, and evaporate their +excitement in cheers at the liberal allusions; and so ends a tumult +that threatened danger, but operated, perhaps, as a healthful vent for +the accumulating disorders of public opinion. + + + + +LETTER X. + + GARDEN OF THE TUILERIES--FASHIONABLE DRIVES--FRENCH + OMNIBUSES--CHEAP RIDING--SIGHTS--STREET-BEGGARS--IMPOSTORS, + ETC. + + +The garden of the Tuileries is an idle man's paradise. Magnificent as +it is in extent, sculptures, and cultivation, we all know that statues +may be too dumb, gravel walks too long and level, and trees and +flowers and fountains a little too Platonic, with any degree of +beauty. But the Tuileries are peopled at all hours of sunshine with, +to me, the most lovely objects in the world--children. You may stop a +minute, perhaps, to look at the thousand gold fishes in the basin +under the palace-windows, or follow the swans for a single voyage +round the fountain in the broad avenue--but you will sit on your hired +chair (at this season) under the shelter of the sunny wall, and gaze +at the children chasing about, with their attending Swiss maids, till +your heart has outwearied your eyes, or the palace-clock strikes five. +I have been there repeatedly since I have been in Paris, and have seen +nothing like the children. They move my heart always, more than +anything under heaven; but a French child, with an accent that all +your paid masters cannot give, and manners, in the midst of its +romping, that mock to the life the air and courtesy for which Paris +has a name over the world, is enough to make one forget Napoleon, +though the column of Vendome throws its shadow within sound of their +voices. Imagine sixty-seven acres of beautiful creatures (that is the +extent of the garden, and I have not seen such a thing as an _ugly_ +French child)--broad avenues stretching away as far as you can see, +covered with little foreigners (so they seem to _me_), dressed in gay +colors, and laughing and romping and talking French, in all the +amusing mixture of baby passions and grown-up manners, and answer +me--is it not a sight better worth seeing than all the grand palaces +that shut it in? + +The Tuileries are certainly very magnificent, and, to walk across from +the Seine to the Rue Rivoli, and look up the endless walks and under +the long perfect arches cut through the trees, may give one a very +pretty surprise for once--but a winding lane is a better place to +enjoy the loveliness of green leaves, and a single New England elm, +letting down its slender branches to the ground in the inimitable +grace of nature, has, to my eye, more beauty than all the clipped +vistas from the king's palace to the _Arc de l'Etoile_, the _Champs +Elysees_ inclusive. + +One of the finest things in Paris, by the way, is the view from the +terrace in front of the palace to this "Arch of Triumph," commenced by +Napoleon at the extremity of the "Elysian Fields," a single avenue of +about two miles. The part beyond the gardens is the _fashionable +drive_, and, by a saunter on horseback to the _Bois de Boulogne_, +between four and five, on a pleasant day, one may see all the dashing +equipages in Paris. Broadway, however, would eclipse everything here, +either for beauty of construction or appointments. Our carriages are +every way handsomer and better hung, and the horses are harnessed more +compactly and gracefully. The lumbering vehicles here make a great +show, it is true--for the box, with its heavy hammer-cloth, is level +with the top, and the coachman and footmen and outriders are very +striking in their bright liveries; but the elegant, convenient, +light-running establishments of Philadelphia and New York, excel them, +out of all comparison, for taste and fitness. The best driving I have +seen is by the king's whips, and really it is beautiful to see his +retinue on the road, four or five coaches and six, with footmen and +outriders in scarlet liveries, and the finest horses possible for +speed and action. His majesty generally takes the outer edge of the +_Champs Elysees_, on the bank of the river, and the rapid glimpses of +the bright show through the breaks in the wood, are exceedingly +picturesque. + +There is nothing in Paris that looks so outlandish to my eye as the +common vehicles. I was thinking of it this morning as I stood waiting +for the _St. Sulpice omnibus_, at the corner of the Rue Vivienne, the +great thoroughfare between the Boulevards and the Palais Royal. There +was the hack-cabriolet lumbering by in the fashion of two centuries +ago, with a horse and harness that look equally ready to drop in +pieces; the hand-cart with a stout dog harnessed under the axle-tree, +drawing with twice the strength of his master; the market-waggon, +driven always by women, and drawn generally by a horse and mule +abreast, the horse of the Norman breed, immensely large, and the mule +about the size of a well-grown bull-dog; a vehicle of which I have not +yet found out the name, a kind of demi-omnibus, with two wheels and a +single horse, and carrying nine; and last, but not least amusing, a +small close carriage for one person, swung upon two wheels and drawn +by a servant, very much used, apparently, by elderly women and +invalids, and certainly most admirable conveniences either for the +economy or safety of getting about a city. It would be difficult to +find an American servant who would draw in harness as they do here; +and it is amusing to see a stout, well-dressed fellow, strapped to a +carriage, and pulling along the _paves_, sometimes at a jog-trot, +while his master or mistress sits looking unconcernedly out of the +window. + +I am not yet decided whether the French are the best or the worst +drivers in the world. If the latter they certainly have most +miraculous escapes. A cab-driver never pulls the reins except upon +great emergencies, or for a right-about turn, and his horse has a most +ludicrous aversion to a straight line. The streets are built inclining +toward the centre, with the gutter in the middle, and it is the habit +of all cabriolet-horses to run down one side and up the other +constantly at such sudden angles that it seems to you they certainly +will go through the shop windows. This, of course, is very dangerous +to foot-passengers in a city where there are no side-walks; and, as a +consequence, the average number of complaints to the police of Paris +for people killed by careless driving, is about four hundred annually. +There are probably twice the number of legs broken. One becomes vexed +in riding with these fellows, and I have once or twice undertaken to +get into a French passion, and insist upon driving myself. But I have +never yet met with an accident. "_Gar-r-r-r-e!_" sings out the driver, +rolling the word off his tongue like a bullet from a shovel, but never +thinking to lift his loose reins from the dasher, while the frightened +passenger, without looking round, makes for the first door with an +alacrity that shows a habit of expecting very little from the +_cocher's_ skill. + +Riding is very cheap in Paris, if managed a little. The city is +traversed constantly in every direction by omnibuses, and you may go +from the Tuileries to _Pere la Chaise_, or from St. Sulpice to the +Italian Boulevards (the two diagonals), or take the "_Tous les +Boulevards_" and ride quite round the city for six sous the distance. +The "_fiacre_" is like our own hacks, except that you pay but "twenty +_sous_ the course," and fill the vehicle with your friends if you +please; and, more cheap and comfortable still, there is the universal +cabriolet, which for "fifteen _sous_ the course," or "twenty the +hour," will give you at least three times the value of your money, +with the advantage of seeing ahead and talking bad French with the +driver. + +Everything in France is either _grotesque_ or _picturesque_. I have +been struck with it this morning, while sitting at my window, looking +upon the close inner court of the hotel. One would suppose that a +_pave_ between four high walls, would offer very little to seduce the +eye from its occupation; but on the contrary, one's whole time may be +occupied in watching the various sights presented in constant +succession. First comes the itinerant cobbler, with his seat and +materials upon his back, and coolly selecting a place against the +wall, opens his shop under your window, and drives his trade, most +industriously, for half an hour. If you have anything to mend, he is +too happy; if not he has not lost his time, for he pays no rent, and +is all the while at work. He packs up again, bows to the _concierge_, +as politely as his load will permit, and takes his departure, in the +hope to find your shoes more worn another day. Nothing could be more +striking than his whole appearance. He is met in the gate, perhaps, +by an old clothes man, who will buy or sell, and compliment you for +nothing, cheapening your coat by calling the Virgin to witness that +your shape is so genteel that it will not fit one man in a thousand; +or by a family of singers, with a monkey to keep time; or a regular +beggar, who, however, does not dream of asking charity till he has +done something to amuse you; after these, perhaps, will follow a +succession of objects singularly peculiar to this fantastic +metropolis; and if one could separate from the poor creatures the +knowledge of the cold and hunger they suffer, wandering about, +houseless, in the most inclement weather, it would be easy to imagine +it a diverting pantomime, and give them the poor pittance they ask, as +the price of an amused hour. An old man has just gone from the court +who comes regularly twice a week, with a long beard, perfectly white, +and a strange kind of an equipage. It is an organ, set upon a rude +carriage, with four small wheels, and drawn by a mule, of the most +diminutive size, looking (if it were not for the venerable figure +crouched upon the seat) like some roughly-contrived plaything. The +whole affair, harness and all, is evidently his own work; and it is +affecting to see the difficulty, and withal, the habitual apathy with +which the old itinerant fastens his rope-reins beside him, and +dismounts to grind his one--solitary--eternal tune, for charity. + +Among the thousands of wretched objects in Paris (they make the heart +sick with their misery at every turn), there is, here and there, one +of an interesting character; and it is pleasant to select them, and +make a habit of your trifling gratuity. Strolling about, as I do, +constantly, and letting everybody and everything amuse me that will, I +have made several of these penny-a-day acquaintances, and find them +very agreeable breaks to the heartless solitude of a crowd. There is a +little fellow who stands by the gate of the Tuileries, opening to the +Place Vendome, who, with all the rags and dirt of a street-boy, begs +with an air of superiority that is absolutely patronizing. One feels +obliged to the little varlet for the privilege of giving to him--his +smile and manner are so courtly. His face is beautiful, dirty as it +is; his voice is clear, and unaffected, and his thin lips have an +expression of high-bred contempt, that amuses me a little, and puzzles +me a great deal. I think he must have gentleman's blood in his veins, +though he possibly came indirectly by it. There is a little Jewess +hanging about the Louvre, who begs with her dark eyes very eloquently; +and in the _Rue de la Paix_ there may be found at all hours, a +melancholy, sick-looking Italian boy, with his hand in his bosom, +whose native language and picture-like face are a diurnal pleasure to +me, cheaply bought with the poor trifle which makes him happy. It is +surprising how many devices there are in the streets for attracting +attention and pity. There is a woman always to be seen upon the +Boulevards, playing a solemn tune on a violin, with a child as pallid +as ashes, lying, apparently, asleep in her lap. I suspected, after +seeing it once or twice, that it was wax, and a day or two since I +satisfied myself of the fact, and enraged the mother excessively by +touching its cheek. It represents a sick child to the life, and any +one less idle and curious would be deceived. I have often seen people +give her money with the most unsuspecting look of sympathy, though it +would be natural enough to doubt the maternal kindness of keeping a +dying child in the open air in mid-winter. Then there is a woman +without hands, making braid with wonderful adroitness; and a man +without legs or arms, singing, with his hat set appealingly on the +ground before him; and cripples, exposing their abbreviated limbs, +and telling their stories over and over, with or without listeners, +from morning till night; and every description of appeal to the most +acute sympathies, mingled with all the gayety, show, and fashion, of +the most crowded promenade in Paris. + +In the present dreadful distress of trade, there are other still more +painful cases of misery. It is not uncommon to be addressed in the +street by men of perfectly respectable appearance, whose faces bear +every mark of strong mental struggle, and often of famishing +necessity, with an appeal for the smallest sum that will buy food. The +look of misery is so general, as to mark the whole population. It has +struck me most forcibly everywhere, notwithstanding the gayety of the +national character, and, I am told by intelligent Frenchmen, it is +peculiar to the time, and felt and observed by all. Such things +startle one back to nature sometimes. It is difficult to look away +from the face of a starving man, and see the splendid equipages, and +the idle waste upon trifles, within his very sight, and reconcile the +contrast with any belief of the existence of human pity--still more +difficult, perhaps, to admit without reflection, the right of one +human being to hold in a shut hand, at will, the very life and breath +for which his fellow-creatures are perishing at his door. It is this +that is visited back so terribly in the horrors of a revolution. + + + + +LETTER XI. + + FOYETIER--THE THRACIAN GLADIATOR--MADEMOISELLE MARS--DOCTOR + FRANKLIN'S RESIDENCE IN PARIS--ANNUAL BALL FOR THE POOR. + + +I had the pleasure to day of being introduced to the young sculptor +Foyetier, the author of the new statue on the terrace of the +Tuileries. Aside from his genius, he is interesting from a +circumstance connected with his early history. He was a herd-driver in +one of the provinces, and amused himself in his leisure moments with +the carving of rude images, which he sold for a sous or two on +market-days in the provincial town. The celebrated Dr. Gall fell in +with him accidentally, and felt of his head, _en passant_. The bump +was there which contains his present greatness, and the phrenologist +took upon himself the risk of his education in the arts. He is now the +first sculptor, beyond all competition, in France. His "_Spartacus_," +the Thracian gladiator, is the admiration of Paris. It stands in front +of the palace, in the most conspicuous part of the regal gardens, and +there are hundreds of people about the pedestal at all hours of the +day. The gladiator has broken his chain, and stands with his weapon +in his hand, every muscle and feature breathing action, his body +thrown back, and his right foot planted powerfully for a spring. It is +a gallant thing. One's blood stirs to look at it. + +_Foyetier_ is a young man, I should think about thirty. He is small, +very plain in appearance; but he has a rapid, earnest eye, and a mouth +of singular suavity of expression. I liked him extremely. His +celebrity seems not to have trenched a step on the nature of his +character. His genius is everywhere allowed, and he works for the king +altogether, his majesty bespeaking everything he attempts, even in the +model; but he is, certainly, of all geniuses, one of the most modest. + + * * * * * + +The celebrated Mars has come out from her retirement once more, and +commenced an engagement at the _Theatre Francais_. I went a short time +since to see her play in Tartuffe. This stage is the home of the true +French drama. Here Talma played when he and Mademoiselle Mars were the +delight of Napoleon and of France. I have had few gratifications +greater than that of seeing this splendid woman re-appear in the place +were she won her brilliant reputation. The play, too, was _Moliere's_, +and it was here that it was first performed. Altogether it was like +something plucked back from history; a renewal, as in a magic mirror, +of glories gone by. + +I could scarce believe my eyes when she appeared as the "wife of +Argon." She looked about twenty-five. Her step was light and graceful; +Her voice was as unlike that of a woman of sixty as could well be +imagined; sweet, clear, and under a control which gives her a power +of expression I never had conceived before; her mouth had the +definite, firm play of youth; her teeth (though the dentist might do +that) were white and perfect, and her eyes can have lost none of their +fire, I am sure. I never saw so _quiet_ a player. Her gestures were +just perceptible, no more; and yet they were done so exquisitely at +the right moment--so unconsciously, as if she had not meant them, that +they were more forcible than even the language itself. She repeatedly +drew a low murmur of delight from the whole house with a single play +of expression across her face, while the other characters were +speaking, or by a slight movement of her fingers, in pantomimic +astonishment or vexation. It was really something new to me. I had +never before seen a first-rate female player in _comedy_. Leontine Fay +is inimitable in tragedy; but, if there be any comparison between +them, it is that this beautiful young creature overpowers the _heart_ +with her nature, while Mademoiselle Mars satisfies the uttermost +demand of the _judgment_ with her art. + + * * * * * + +I yesterday visited the house occupied by Franklin while he was in +France. It is one of the most beautiful country residences in the +neighborhood of Paris, standing on the elevated ground of Passy, and +overlooking the whole city on one side, and the valley of the Seine +for a long distance toward Versailles on the other. The house is +otherwise celebrated. Madame de Genlis lived there while the present +king was her pupil; and Louis XV. occupied it six months for the +country air, while under the infliction of the gout--its neighborhood +to the palace probably rendering it preferable to the more distant +_chateaux_ of St. Cloud or Versailles. Its occupants would seem to +have been various enough, without the addition of a Lieutenant-General +of the British army, whose hospitality makes it delightful at present. +The lightning-rod, which was raised by Franklin, and which was the +first conductor used in France, is still standing. The gardens are +large, and form a sort of terrace, with the house on the front edge. +It must be one of the sweetest places in the world in summer. + + * * * * * + +The great annual ball for the poor was given at the _Academie Royale_, +a few nights since. This is attended by the king and royal family, and +is ordinarily the most splendid affair of the season. It is managed by +twenty or thirty lady-patronesses, who have the control of the +tickets; and, though by no means exclusive, it is kept within very +respectable limits; and, if one is content to float with the tide, and +forego dancing, is an unusually comfortable and well-behaved +spectacle. + +I went with a large party at the early hour of eight. We fell into the +train of carriages, advancing slowly between files of dragoons, and +stood before the door in our turn in the course of an hour. The +staircases were complete orangeries, with immense mirrors at every +turn, and soldiers on guard, and servants in livery, from top to +bottom. The long saloon, lighted by ten chandeliers, was dressed and +hung with wreaths as a receiving-room; and passing on through the +spacious lobbies, which were changed into groves of pines and exotics, +we entered upon the grand scene. The _coup d'oeil_ would have +astonished Aladdin. The theatre, which is the largest in Paris, and +gorgeously built and ornamented, was thrown into one vast ball-room, +ascending gradually from the centre to platforms raised at either end, +one of which was occupied by the throne and seats for the king's +family and suite. The four rows of boxes were crowded with ladies, and +the house presented, from the floor to the _paradis_, one glittering +and waving wall of dress, jewelry, and feathers. An orchestra of near +a hundred musicians occupied the centre of the hall; and on either +side of them swept by the long, countless multitudes of people, +dressed with a union of taste and show; while, instead of the black +coats which darken the complexion of a party in a republican country, +every other gentleman was in a gay uniform; and polytechnic scholars, +with their scarlet-faced coats, officers of the "National Guard" and +the "line," gentlemen of the king's household, and foreign ministers, +and _attaches_, presented a variety of color and splendor which +nothing could exceed. + +The theatre itself was not altered, except by the platform occupied by +the king; it is sufficiently splendid as it stands; but the stage, +whose area is much larger than that of the pit, was hung in rich +drapery as a vast tent, and garnished to profusion with flags and +arms. Along the sides, on a level with the lower row of boxes, +extended galleries of crimson velvet, festooned with flowers. These +were filled with ladies, and completed a circle about the house of +beauty and magnificence, of which the king and his dazzling suite +formed the _corona_. Chandeliers were hung close together from one end +of the hall to the other. I commenced counting them once or twice, but +some bright face flitting by in the dance interrupted me. An English +girl near me counted fifty-five, and I think there must have been +more. The blaze of light was almost painful. The air glittered, and +the fine grain of the most delicate complexions was distinctly +visible. It is impossible to describe the effect of so much light and +space and music crowded into one spectacle. The vastness of the hall, +so long that the best sight could not distinguish a figure at the +opposite extremity, and so high as to absorb and mellow the vibration +of a hundred instruments--the gorgeous sweep of splendor from one +platform to the other, absolutely drowning the eye in a sea of gay +colors, nodding feathers, jewelry, and military equipment--the +delicious music, the strange faces, dresses, and tongues, (one-half of +the multitude at least being foreigners), the presence of the king, +and the gallant show of uniforms in his conspicuous _suite_, combined +to make up a scene more than sufficiently astonishing. I felt the +whole night the smothering consciousness of senses too narrow--eyes, +ears, language, all too limited for the demand made upon them. + +The king did not arrive till after ten. He entered by a silken curtain +in the rear of the platform on which seats were placed for his family. +The "_Vive le Roi_" was not so hearty as to drown the music, but his +majesty bowed some twenty times very graciously, and the good-hearted +queen curtsied, and kept a smile on her excessively plain face, till I +felt the muscles of my own ache for her. King Philippe looks anxious. +By the remarks of the French people about me when he entered, he has +reason for it. I observed that the polytechnic scholars all turned +their backs upon him; and one exceedingly handsome, spirited-looking +boy, standing just at my side, muttered a "_sacre!_" and bit his lip, +with a very revolutionary air, at the continuance of the acclamation. +His majesty came down, and walked through the hall about midnight. His +eldest son, the Duke of Orleans, a handsome, unoffending-looking youth +of eighteen, followed him, gazing round upon the crowd with his mouth +open, and looking very much annoyed at his part of the pageant. The +young duke has a good figure, and is certainly a very beautiful +dancer. His mouth is loose and weak, and his eyes are as opaque as +agates. He wore the uniform of the _Garde Nationale_, which does not +become him. In ordinary gentleman's dress, he is a very authentical +copy of a Bond-street dandy, and looks as little like a Frenchman as +most of Stultz's subjects. He danced all the evening, and selected, +very popularly, decidedly the most vulgar women in the room, looking +all the while as one who had been petted by the finest women in France +(Leontine Fay among the number), might be supposed to look, under such +an infliction. The king's second son, the Duke of Nemours, pursued the +same policy. He has a brighter face than his brother, with hair almost +white, and dances extremely well. The second daughter is also much +prettier than the eldest. On the whole, the king's family is a very +plain, though a very amiable one, and the people seem attached to +them. + +These general descriptions, are, after all, very vague. Here I have +written half a sheet with a picture in my mind of which you are +getting no semblable idea. Language is a mere skeleton of such things. +The _Academie Royale_ should be borne over the water like the chapel +of Loretto, and set down in Broadway with all its lights, music, and +people, to give you half a notion of the "_Bal en faveur des +Pauvres_." And so it is with everything except the little histories of +one's own personal atmosphere, and that is the reason why egotism +should be held virtuous in a traveller, and the reason why one cannot +study Europe at home. + +After getting our American party places, I abandoned myself to the +strongest current, and went in search of "lions." The first face that +arrested my eye was that of the Duchess D'Istria, a woman celebrated +here for her extraordinary personal beauty. + +Directly opposite this lovely dutchess, in the other stage-box, sat +Donna Maria, the young Queen of Portugal, surrounded by her relatives. +The ex-empress, her mother, was on her right, her grandmother on her +left, and behind her some half dozen of her Portuguese cousins. She is +a little girl of twelve or fourteen, with a fat, heavy face, and a +remarkably pampered, sleepy look. She was dressed like an old woman, +and gaped incessantly the whole evening. The box was a perfect blaze +of diamonds. I never before realized the beauty of these splendid +stones. The necks, heads, arms, and waists of the ladies royal were +all streaming with light. The necklace of the empress mother +particularly flashed on the eye in every part of the house. By the +unceasing exclamations of the women, it was an unusually brilliant +show, even here. The little Donna has a fine, well-rounded chin; and +when she smiled in return to the king's bow, I thought I could see +more than a child's character in the expression of her mouth. I should +think a year or two of mental uneasiness might let out a look of +intelligence through her heavy features. She is likely to have it, I +think, with the doubtful fortunes that seem to beset her. + +I met Don Pedro often in society before his departure upon his +expedition. He is a short, well-made man, of great personal +accomplishment, and a very bad expression, rather aggravated by an +unfortunate cutaneous eruption. The first time I saw him, I was induced +to ask who he was, from the apparent coldness and dislike with which +he was treated by a lady whose beauty had strongly arrested my attention. +He sat by her on a sofa in a very crowded party, and seemed to be +saying something very earnestly, which made the lady's Spanish eyes +flash fire, and brought a curl of very positive anger upon a pair of +the loveliest lips imaginable. She was a slender, aristocratic-looking +creature, and dressed most magnificently. After glancing at them a +minute or two, I made up my mind that, from the authenticity of his +dress and appointments, he was an Englishman, and that she was some +French lady of rank whom he was particularly annoying with his +addresses. On inquiry, the gentleman proved to be Don Pedro, and the +lady the Countess de Lourle, _his sister_! I have often met her since, +and never without wondering how two of the same family could look so +utterly unlike each other. The Count de Lourle is called the Adonis of +Paris. He is certainly a very splendid fellow, and justifies the +romantic admiration of his wife, who married him clandestinely, giving +him her left hand in the ceremony, as is the etiquette, they say, when +a princess marries below her rank. One can not help looking with great +interest on a beautiful creature like this, who has broken away from +the imposing fetters of a royal sphere, to follow the dictates of +natural feeling. It does not occur so often in Europe that one may not +sentimentalize about it without the charge of affectation. + +To return to the ball. The king bowed himself out a little after +midnight, and with him departed most of the fat people, and all the +little girls. This made room enough to dance, and the French set +themselves at it in good earnest. I wandered about for an hour or two; +after wearying my imagination quite out in speculating on the +characters and rank of people whom I never saw before and shall +probably never see again, I mounted to the _paradis_ to take a last +look down upon the splendid scene, and made my exit. I should be quite +content never to go to such a ball again, though it was by far the +most splendid scene of the kind I ever saw. + + + + +LETTER XII. + + PLACE LOUIS XV.--PANORAMIC VIEW OF PARIS--A LITERARY CLUB + DINNER--THE GUESTS--THE PRESIDENT--THE EXILED POLES, ETC. + + +I have spent the day in a long stroll. The wind blew warm and +delicious from the south this morning, and the temptation to abandon +lessons and lectures was irresistible. Taking the _Arc de l'Etoile_ as +my extreme point I yielded to all the leisurely hinderances of +shop-windows, beggars, book-stalls, and views by the way. Among the +specimen-cards in an engraver's window I was amused at finding, in the +latest Parisian fashion, "HUSSEIN-PACHA, _Dey d'Algiers_." + +These delightful Tuileries! We rambled through them (I had met a +friend and countryman, and enticed him into my idle plans for the +day), and amused ourselves with the never-failing beauty and grace of +the French children for an hour. On the inner terrace we stopped to +look at the beautiful hotel of Prince Polignac, facing the Tuileries, +on the opposite bank. By the side of this exquisite little model of a +palace stands the superb commencement of Napoleon's ministerial +hotel, breathing of his glorious conception in every line of its +ruins. It is astonishing what a godlike impress that man left upon all +he touched. + +Every third or fourth child in the gardens was dressed in the full +uniform of the National Guard--helmet, sword, epaulets, and all. They +are ludicrous little caricatures, of course, but it inoculates them +with love of the corps, and it would be better if that were synonymous +with a love of liberal principals. The _Garde Nationale_ are supposed +to be more than half "Carlists" at this moment. + +We passed out by the guarded gate of the Tuileries to the _Place Louis +XV._ This square is a most beautiful spot, as a centre of unequalled +views, and yet a piece of earth so foully polluted with human blood +probably does not exist on the face of the globe. It divides the +Tuileries from the _Champs Elysees_, and ranges of course, in the long +broad avenue of two miles, stretching between the king's palace and +the _Arc de l'Etoile_. It is but a list of names to write down the +particular objects to be seen in such a view, but it commands, at the +extremities of its radii, the most princely edifices, seen hence with +the most advantageous foregrounds of space and avenue, and softened by +distance into the misty and unbroken surface of engraving. The king's +palace is on one hand, Napoleon's Arch at a distance of nearly two +miles on the other, Prince Talleyrand's regal dwelling behind, with +the church of Madelaine seen through the _Rue Royale_, while before +you, to the south, lies a picture of profuse splendor: the broad +Seine, spanned by bridges that are the admiration of Europe, and +crowded by specimens of architectural magnificence; the Chamber of +Deputies; and the _Palais Bourbon_, approached by the _Pont Louis +XVI._ with its gigantic statues and simple majesty of structure; and, +rising over all, the grand dome of the "_Invalides_," which Napoleon +gilded, to divert the minds of his subjects from his lost battle, and +which Peter the Great admired more than all Paris beside. What a spot +for a man to stand upon, with but one bosom to feel and one tongue to +express his wonder! + +And yet, of what, that should make a spot of earth sink to perdition, +has it not been the theatre? Here were beheaded the unfortunate Louis +XVI.--his wife, Marie Antoinette--his kinsman, Philip duke of Orleans, +and his sister Elizabeth; and here were guillotined the intrepid +Charlotte Corday, the deputy Brissot, and twenty of his colleagues, +and all the victims of the revolution of 1793, to the amount of two +thousand eight hundred; and here Robespierre and his cursed crew met +at last with their insufficient retribution; and, as if it were +destined to be the very blood-spot of the earth, here the fireworks, +which were celebrating the marriage of the same Louis that was +afterward brought hither to the scaffold, exploded, and killed +fourteen hundred persons. It has been the scene, also, of several +minor tragedies not worth mentioning in such a connexion. Were I a +Bourbon, and as unpopular as King Philippe I. at this moment, the view +of the Place Louis XV. from my palace windows would very much disturb +the beauty of the perspective. Without an _equivoque_, I should look +with a very ominous dissatisfaction on the "Elysian fields" that lie +beyond. + +We loitered slowly on to the _Barrier Neuilly_, just outside of which, +and right before the city gates, stands the Triumphal Arch. It has the +stamp of Napoleon--simple grandeur. The broad avenue from the +Tuileries swells slowly up to it for two miles, and the view of Paris +at its foot, even, is superb. We ascended to the unfinished roof, a +hundred and thirty-five feet from the ground, and saw the whole of the +mighty capital of France at a _coup d'oeil_--churches, palaces, +gardens; buildings heaped upon buildings clear over the edge of the +horizon, where the spires of the city in which you stand are scarcely +visible for the distance. + +I dined, a short time since, with the editors of the _Revue +Encyclopedique_ at their monthly reunion. This is a sort of club +dinner, to which the eminent contributors of the review invite once a +month all the strangers of distinction who happen to be in Paris. I +owed my invitation probably to the circumstance of my living with Dr. +Howe, who is considered the organ of American principles here, and +whose force of character has given him a degree of respect and +prominence not often attained by foreigners. It was the most +remarkable party, by far, that I had ever seen. There were nearly a +hundred guests, twenty or thirty of whom were distinguished Poles, +lately arrived from Warsaw. Generals Romarino and Langermann were +placed beside the president, and another general, whose name is as +difficult to remember as his face is to forget, and who is famous for +having been the last on the field, sat next to the head seat. Near him +were General Bernard and Dr. Bowring, with Sir Sidney Smith (covered +with orders, from every quarter of the world), and the president of +Colombia. After the usual courses of a French dinner, the president, +Mons. Julien, a venerable man with snow-white hair, addressed the +company. He expressed his pleasure at the meeting, with the usual +courtesies of welcome, and in the fervent manner of the old school of +French politeness; and then pausing a little, and lowering his voice, +with a very touching cadence, he looked around to the Poles, and began +to speak of their country. Every movement was instantly hushed about +the table--the guests leaned forward, some of them half rising in +their earnestness to hear; the old man's voice trembled, and sunk +lower; the Poles dropped their heads upon their bosoms, and the whole +company were strongly affected. His manner suddenly changed at this +moment, in a degree that would have seemed too dramatic, if the strong +excitement had not sustained him. He spoke indignantly of the Russian +barbarity toward Poland--assured the exiles of the strong sympathy +felt by the great mass of the French people in their cause, and +expressed his confident belief that the struggle was not yet done, and +the time was near when, with France at her back, Poland would rise and +be free. He closed, amid tumultuous acclamation, and all the Poles +near him kissed the old man, after the French manner, upon both his +cheeks. + +This speech was followed by several others, much to the same effect. +Dr. Bowring replied handsomely, in French, to some compliment paid to +his efforts on the "question of reform," in England. _Cesar Moreau_, +the great schemist, and founder of the _Academie d'Industrie_, said a +few very revolutionary things quite emphatically, rolling his fine +visionary-looking eyes about as if he saw the "shadows cast before" of +coming events; and then rose a speaker, whom I shall never forget. He +was a young Polish noble, of about nineteen, whose extreme personal +beauty and enthusiastic expression of countenance had particularly +arrested my attention in the drawing-room, before dinner. His person +was slender and graceful--his eye and mouth full of beauty and fire, +and his manner had a quiet native superiority, that would have +distinguished him anywhere. He had behaved very gallantly in the +struggle, and some allusion had been made to him in one of the +addresses. He rose modestly, and half unwillingly, and acknowledged +the kind wishes for his country in language of great elegance. He +then went on to speak of the misfortunes of Poland, and soon warmed +into eloquence of the most vivid earnestness and power. I never was +more moved by a speaker--he seemed perfectly unconscious of everything +but the recollections of his subject. His eyes swam with tears and +flashed with indignation alternately, and his refined, spirited mouth +assumed a play of varied expression, which, could it have been +arrested, would have made a sculptor immortal. I can hardly write +extravagantly of him, for all present were as much excited as myself. +One ceases to wonder at the desperate character of the attempt to +redeem the liberty of a land when he sees such specimens of its +people. I have seen hundreds of Poles, of all classes, in Paris, and I +have not yet met with a face of even common dulness among them. + +You have seen by the papers, I presume, that a body of several +thousand Poles fled from Warsaw, after the defeat, and took refuge in +the northern forests of Prussia. They gave up their arms under an +assurance from the king that they should have all the rights of +Prussian subjects. He found it politic afterward to recall his +protection, and ordered them back to Poland. They refused to go, and +were surrounded by a detachment of his army, and the orders given to +fire upon them. The soldiers refused, and the Poles, taking advantage +of the sympathy of the army, broke through the ranks, and escaped to +the forest, where, at the last news, they were armed with clubs, and +determined to defend themselves to the last. The consequence of a +return to Poland would be, of course, an immediate exile to Siberia. +The Polish committee, American and French, with General Lafayette at +their head, have appropriated a great part of their funds to the +relief of this body, and our countryman, Dr. Howe, has undertaken the +dangerous and difficult task of carrying it to them. He left Paris for +Brussels, with letters from the Polish generals, and advices from +Lafayette to all Polish committees upon his route, that they should +put all their funds into his hands. He is a gallant fellow, and will +succeed if any one can; but he certainly runs great hazard. God +prosper him! + + + + +LETTER XIII. + + THE GAMBLING-HOUSES OF PARIS. + + +I accepted, last night, from a French gentleman of high standing, a +polite offer of introduction to one of the exclusive gambling clubs +of Paris. With the understanding, of course, that it was only as a +spectator, my friend, whom I had met at a dinner party, despatched +a note from the table, announcing to the temporary master of +ceremonies his intention of presenting me. We went at eleven, in full +dress. I was surprised at the entrance with the splendor of the +establishment--gilt balustrades, marble staircases, crowds of servants +in full livery, and all the formal announcement of a court. Passing +through several ante-chambers, a heavy folding-door was thrown open, +and we were received by one of the noblest-looking men I have seen in +France--Count ----. I was put immediately at my ease by his dignified +and kind politeness; and after a little conversation in English, which +he spoke fluently, the entrance of some other person left me at +liberty to observe at my leisure. Everything about me had the impress +of the studied taste of high life. The lavish and yet soft disposition +of light, the harmony of color in the rich hangings and furniture, +the quiet manners and subdued tones of conversation, the respectful +deference of the servants, and the simplicity of the slight +entertainment, would have convinced me, without my Asmodeus, that I +was in no every-day atmosphere. Conversation proceeded for an hour, +while the members came dropping in from their evening engagements, and +a little after twelve a glass door was thrown open, and we passed from +the reception-room to the spacious suite of apartments intended for +play. One or two of the gentlemen entered the side rooms for billiards +and cards, but the majority closed about the table of hazard in the +central hall. I had never conceived so beautiful an apartment. It can +be described in two words--_columns_ and _mirrors_. There was nothing +else between the exquisitely-painted ceiling and the floor. The form +was circular, and the wall was laid with glass, interrupted only with +pairs of Corinthian pillars, with their rich capitals reflected and +re-reflected innumerably. It seemed like a hall of colonnades of +illimitable extent--the multiplication of the mirrors into each other +was so endless and illusive. I felt an unconquerable disposition to +abandon myself to a waking revery of pleasure; and as soon as the +attention of the company was perfectly engrossed by the silent +occupation before them, I sank upon a sofa, and gave my senses up for +a while to the fascination of the scene. My eye was intoxicated. As +far as my sight could penetrate, stretched apparently interminable +halls, carpeted with crimson, and studded with graceful columns and +groups of courtly figures, forming altogether, with its extent and +beauty, and in the subdued and skilfully-managed light, a picture +that, if real, would be one of unsurpassable splendor. I quite forgot +my curiosity to see the game. I had merely observed, when my companion +reminded me of the arrival of my own appointed hour for departure +that, whatever was lost or won, the rustling bills were passed from +one to the other with a quiet and imperturbable politeness, that +betrayed no sign either of chagrin or triumph; though, from the fact +that the transfers were in paper only, the stakes must have been +anything but trifling. Refusing a polite invitation to partake of the +supper, always in waiting, we took leave about two hours after +midnight. + +As we drove from the court, my companion suggested to me, that, since +we were out at so late an hour, we might as well look in for a moment +at the more accessible "hells," and, pulling the _cordon_, he ordered +to "_Frascati's_." This, you know of course, is the fashionable place +of ruin, and here the heroes of all novels, and the rakes of all +comedies, mar or make their fortunes. An evening dress, and the look +of a gentleman, are the only required passport. A servant in +attendance took our hats and canes, and we walked in without ceremony. +It was a different scene from the former. Four large rooms, plainly +but handsomely furnished, opened into each other, three of which were +devoted to play, and crowded with players. Elegantly-dressed women, +some of them with high pretensions to French beauty, sat and stood at +the table, watching their own stakes in the rapid games with fixed +attention. The majority of the gentlemen were English. The table was +very large, marked as usual with the lines and figures of the game, +and each person playing had a small rake in his hand, with which he +drew toward him his proportion of the winnings. I was disappointed at +the first glance in the faces: there was very little of the high-bred +courtesy I had seen at the club-house, but there was no very striking +exhibition of feeling, and I should think, in any but an extreme case, +the whispering silence and general quietness of the room would +repress it. After watching the variations of luck awhile, however, I +selected one or two pretty desperate losers, and a young Frenchman who +was a large winner, and confined my observation to them only. Among +the former was a girl of about eighteen, a mild, quiet-looking +creature, with her hair curling long on her neck, and hands childishly +small and white, who lost invariably. Two piles of five-franc pieces +and a small heap of gold lay on the table beside her, and I watched +her till she laid the last coin upon the losing color. She bore it +very well. By the eagerness with which, at every turn of the last +card, she closed her hand upon the rake which she held, it was evident +that her hopes were high; but when her last piece was drawn into the +bank, she threw up her little fingers with a playful desperation, and +commenced conversation even gayly with a gentleman who stood leaning +over her chair. The young Frenchman continued almost as invariably to +win. He was excessively handsome; but there was a cold, profligate, +unvarying hardness of expression in his face, that made me dislike +him. The spectators drew gradually about his chair; and one or two of +the women, who seemed to know him well, selected a color for him +occasionally, or borrowed of him and staked for themselves. We left +him winning. The other players were mostly English, and very +uninteresting in their exhibition of disappointment. My companion told +me that there would be more desperate playing toward morning, but I +had become disgusted with the cold selfish faces of the scene, and +felt no interest sufficient to detain me. + + + + +LETTER XIV. + + THE GARDEN OF THE TUILERIES--PRINCE MOSCOWA--SONS OF NAPOLEON-- + COOPER AND MORSE--SIR SIDNEY SMITH--FASHIONABLE WOMEN--CLOSE + OF THE DAY--THE FAMOUS EATING-HOUSES--HOW TO DINE WELL IN PARIS, + ETC. + + +It is March, and the weather has all the characteristics of +New-England May. The last two or three days have been deliciously +spring-like, clear, sunny, and warm. The gardens of the Tuileries are +crowded. The chairs beneath the terraces are filled by the old men +reading the gazettes, mothers and nurses watching their children at +play, and, at every few steps, circles of whole families sitting and +sewing, or conversing, as unconcernedly as at home. It strikes a +stranger oddly. With the _privacy_ of American feelings, we cannot +conceive of these out-of-door French habits. What would a Boston or +New York mother think of taking chairs for her whole family, grown-up +daughters and all, in the Mall or upon the Battery, and spending the +day in the very midst of the gayest promenade of the city? People of +all ranks do it here. You will see the powdered, elegant gentleman of +the _ancien regime_, handing his wife or daughter to a straw-bottomed +chair, with all the air of drawing-room courtesy; and, begging pardon +for the liberty, pull his journal from his pocket, and sit down to +read beside her; or a tottering old man, leaning upon a stout Swiss +servant girl, goes bowing and apologizing through the crowd, in search +of a pleasant neighbor, or some old compatriot, with whom he may sit +and nod away the hours of sunshine. It is a beautiful custom, +positively. The gardens are like a constant _fete_. It is a holiday +revel, without design or disappointment. It is a masque, where every +one plays his character unconsciously, and therefore naturally and +well. We get no idea of it at home. We are too industrious a nation to +have idlers enough. It would even pain most of the people of our +country to see so many thousands of all ages and conditions of life +spending day after day in such absolute uselessness. + +Imagine yourself here, on the fashionable terrace, the promenade, two +days in the week, of all that is distinguished and gay in Paris. It is +a short raised walk, just inside the railings, and the only part of +all these wide and beautiful gardens where a member of the _beau +monde_ is ever to be met. The hour is four, the day Friday, the +weather heavenly. I have just been long enough in Paris to be an +excellent walking dictionary, and I will tell you who people are. In +the first place, all the well-dressed men you see are English. You +will know the French by those flaring coats, laid clear back on their +shoulders, and their execrable hats and thin legs. Their heads are +fresh from the hair-dresser; their hats are _chapeaux de soie_ or +imitation beaver; they are delicately rouged, and wear very white +gloves; and those who are with ladies, lead, as you observe, a small +dog by a string, or carry it in their arms. No French lady walks out +without her lap-dog. These slow-paced men you see in brown mustaches +and frogged coats are refugee Poles. The short, thick, agile-looking +man before us is General ----, celebrated for having been the last to +surrender on the last field of that brief contest. His handsome face +is full of resolution, and unlike the rest of his countrymen, he looks +still unsubdued and in good heart. He walks here every day an hour or +two, swinging his cane round his forefinger, and thinking, apparently +of anything but his defeat. Observe these two young men approaching +us. The short one on the left, with the stiff hair and red mustache, +is _Prince Moscowa_, the son of Marshal Ney. He is an object of more +than usual interest just now, as the youngest of the new batch of +peers. The expression of his countenance is more bold than handsome, +and indeed he is anything but a carpet knight; a fact of which he +seems, like a man of sense, quite aware. He is to be seen at the +parties standing with his arms folded, leaning silently against the +wall for hours together. His companion is, I presume to say, quite the +handsomest man you ever saw. A little over six feet, perfectly +proportioned, dark silken-brown hair, slightly curling about his +forehead, a soft curling mustache, and beard just darkening the finest +cut mouth in the world, and an olive complexion, of the most golden +richness and clearness--Mr. ---- is called the handsomest man in +Europe. What is more remarkable still, he looks like the most modest +man in Europe, too; though, like most modest _looking_ men, his +reputation for constancy in the gallant world is somewhat slender. And +here comes a fine-looking man, though of a different order of +beauty--a natural son of Napoleon. He is about his father's height, +and has most of his features, though his person and air must be quite +different. You see there Napoleon's beautiful mouth and thinly +chiselled nose, but I fancy that soft eye is his mother's. He is said +to be one of the most fascinating men in France. His mother was the +Countess Waleski, a lady with whom the Emperor became acquainted in +Poland. It is singular that Napoleon's talents and love of glory have +not descended upon any of the eight or ten sons whose claims to his +paternity are admitted. And here come two of our countrymen, who are +to be seen constantly together--_Cooper_ and _Morse_. That is Cooper +with the blue surtout buttoned up to his throat, and his hat over his +eyes. What a contrast between the faces of the two men! Morse with his +kind, open, gentle countenance, the very picture of goodness and +sincerity; and Cooper, dark and corsair-looking, with his brows down +over his eyes, and his strongly lined mouth fixed in an expression of +moodiness and reserve. The two faces, however, are not equally just to +their owners--Morse is all that he looks to be, but Cooper's features +do him decided injustice. I take a pride in the reputation which this +distinguished countryman of ours has for humanity and generous +sympathy. The distress of the refugee liberals from all countries +comes home especially to Americans, and the untiring liberality of Mr. +Cooper particularly, is a fact of common admission and praise. It is +pleasant to be able to say such things. Morse is taking a sketch of +the Gallery of the Louvre, and he intends copying some of the best +pictures also, to accompany it as an exhibition, when he returns. Our +artists do our country credit abroad. The feeling of interest in one's +country artists and authors becomes very strong in a foreign land. +Every leaf of laurel awarded to them seems to touch one's own +forehead. And, talking of laurels, here comes _Sir Sidney Smith_--the +short, fat, old gentleman yonder, with the large aquiline nose and +keen eye. He is one of the few men who ever opposed Napoleon +successfully, and that should distinguish him, even if he had not won +by his numerous merits and achievements the gift of almost every order +in Europe. He is, among other things, of a very mechanical turn, and +is quite crazy just now about a six-wheeled coach, which he has lately +invented, and of which nobody sees the exact benefit but himself. An +invitation to his rooms, to hear his description of the model, is +considered the last new bore. + +And now for ladies. Whom do you see that looks distinguished? Scarce +one whom you would take positively for a lady, I venture to presume. +These two, with the velvet pelisses and small satin bonnets, are +rather the most genteel-looking people in the garden. I set them down +for ladies of rank, in the first walk I ever took here; and two who +have just passed us, with the curly lap-dog, I was equally sure were +persons of not very dainty morality. It is precisely _au contraire_. +The velvet pelisses are gamblers from Frascati's, and the two with the +lap-dog are the Countess N. and her unmarried daughter--two of the +most exclusive specimens of Parisian society. It is very odd--but if +you see a remarkably modest-looking woman in Paris, you may be sure, +as the periphrasis goes, that "she is no better than she should be." +Everything gets _travestied_ in this artificial society. The general +ambition seems to be, to appear that which one is not. White-haired +men cultivate their sparse mustaches, and dark-haired men shave. +Deformed men are successful in gallantry, where handsome men despair. +Ugly women dress and dance, while beauties mope and are deserted. +Modesty looks brazen, and vice looks timid; and so all through the +calendar. Life in Paris is as pretty a series of astonishment, as an +_ennuye_ could desire. + +But there goes the palace-bell--five o'clock! The sun is just +disappearing behind the dome of the "Invalides," and the crowd begins +to thin. Look at the atmosphere of the gardens. How deliciously the +twilight mist softens everything. Statues, people, trees, and the long +perspectives down the alleys, all mellowed into the shadowy +indistinctness of fairy-land. The throng is pressing out at the gates, +and the guard, with his bayonet presented, forbids all re-entrance, +for the gardens are cleared at sundown. The carriages are driving up +and dashing away, and if you stand a moment you will see the most +vulgar-looking people you have met in your promenade, waited for by +_chasseurs_, and departing with indications of rank in their +equipages, which nature has very positively denied to their persons. +And now all the world dines and dines well. The "_chef_" stands with +his gold repeater in his hand, waiting for the moment to decide the +fate of the first dish; the _garcons_ at the restaurants have donned +their white aprons, and laid the silver forks upon the napkins; the +pretty women are seated on their thrones in the saloons, and the +interesting hour is here. Where shall we dine? We will walk toward the +Palais Royal, and talk of it as we go along. + +That man would "deserve well of his country" who should write a "Paris +Guide" for the palate. I would do it myself if I could elude the +immortality it would occasion me. One is compelled to pioneer his own +stomach through the endless _cartes_ of some twelve eating-houses, all +famous, before he half knows whether he is dining well or ill. I had +eaten for a week at Very's, for instance, before I discovered that, +since Pelham's day, that gentleman's reputation has gone down. He is +a subject for history at present. I was misled also by an elderly +gentleman at Havre, who advised me to eat at _Grignon's_, in the +_Passage Vivienne_. Not liking my first _coquilles aux huitres_, I +made some private inquiries, and found that his _chef_ had deserted +him about the time of Napoleon's return from Elba. A stranger gets +misguided in this way. And then, if by accident you hit upon the right +house, you may be eating for a month before you find out the peculiar +triumphs which have stamped its celebrity. No mortal man can excel in +everything, and it is as true of cooking as it is of poetry. The +"_Rochers de Cancale_," is now the first eating-house in Paris, yet +they only excel in fish. The "_Trois Freres Provencaux_," have a high +reputation, yet their _cotelettes provencales_ are the only dish which +you can not get equally well elsewhere. A good practice is to walk +about in the Palais Royal for an hour before dinner, and select a +master. You will know a _gourmet_ easily--a man slightly past the +prime of life, with a nose just getting its incipient blush, a +remarkably loose, voluminous white cravat, and a corpulence more of +suspicion than fact. Follow him to his restaurant, and give the +_garcon_ a private order to serve you with the same dishes as the +_bald_ gentleman. (I have observed that dainty livers universally lose +their hair early.) I have been in the wake of such a person now for a +week or more, and I never lived, comparatively, before. Here we are, +however, at the "_Trois Freres_," and there goes my unconscious model +deliberately up stairs. We'll follow him, and double his orders, and +if we dine not well, there is no eating in France. + + + + +LETTER XV. + + HOPITAL DES INVALIDES--MONUMENT OF TURENNE--MARSHAL NEY--A + POLISH LADY IN UNIFORM--FEMALES MASQUERADING IN MEN'S + CLOTHES--DUEL BETWEEN THE SONS OF GEORGE IV. AND OF + BONAPARTE--GAMBLING PROPENSITIES OF THE FRENCH. + + +The weather still holds warm and bright, as it has been all the month, +and the scarcely "premature white pantaloons" appeared yesterday in +the Tuileries. The ladies loosen their "boas;" the silken greyhounds +of Italy follow their mistresses without shivering; the birds are +noisy and gay in the clipped trees--who that had known February in New +England would recognize him by such a description? + +I took an indolent stroll with a friend this morning to the _Hopital +des Invalides_, on the other side of the river. Here, not long since, +were twenty-five thousand old soldiers. There are but five thousand +now remaining, most of them having been dismissed by the Bourbons. It +is of course one of the most interesting spots in France; and of a +pleasant day there is no lounge where a traveller can find so much +matter for thought, with so much pleasure to the eye. We crossed over +by the _Pons Louis Quinze_, and kept along the bank of the river to +the esplanade in front of the hospital. There was never a softer +sunshine, or a more deliciously-tempered air; and we found the old +veterans out of doors, sitting upon the cannon along the rampart, or +halting about, with their wooden legs, under the trees, the pictures +of comfort and contentment. The building itself, as you know, is very +celebrated for its grandeur. The dome of the _Invalides_ rises upon +the eye from all parts of Paris, a perfect model of proportion and +beauty. It was this which Bonaparte ordered to be gilded, to divert +the people from thinking too much upon his defeat. It is a living +monument of the most touching recollections of him now. Positively the +blood mounts, and the tears spring to the eyes of the spectator, as he +stands a moment, and remembers what is around him in that place. To +see his maimed followers, creeping along the corridors, clothed and +fed by the bounty he left, in a place devoted to his soldiers alone, +their old comrades about them, and all glowing with one feeling of +devotion to his memory, to speak to them, to hear their stories +of--"_L'Empereur_" it is better than a thousand histories to make one +_feel_ the glory of "the great captain." The interior of the dome is +vast, and of a splendid style of architecture, and out from one of its +sides extends a superb chapel, hung all round with the tattered flags +taken in _his_ victories alone. Here the veterans of his army worship, +beneath the banners for which they fought. It is hardly appropriate, I +should think, to adorn thus the church of a "religion of peace;" but +while there, at least, we feel strangely certain, somehow, that it is +right and fitting; and when, as we stood deciphering the half-effaced +insignia of the different nations, the organ began to peal, there +certainly was anything but a jar between this grand music, +consecrated as it is by religious associations, and the thrilling and +uncontrolled sense in my bosom of Napoleon's glory. The anthem seemed +to _him_! + +The majestic sounds were still rolling through the dome when we came +to the monument of _Turenne_. Here is another comment on the character +of Bonaparte's mind. There was once a long inscription on this +monument, describing, in the fulsome style of an epitaph, the deeds +and virtues of the distinguished man who is buried beneath. The +emperor removed and replaced it by a small slab, graven with the +single word TURENNE. You acknowledge the sublimity of this as you +stand before it. Everything is in keeping with its grandeur. The lofty +proportions and magnificence of the dome, the tangible trophies of +glory, and the maimed and venerable figures, kneeling about the altar, +of those who helped to win them, are circumstances that make that +eloquent word as articulate as if it were spoken in thunder. You feel +that Napoleon's spirit might walk the place, and read the hearts of +those who should visit it, unoffended. + +We passed on to the library. It is ornamented with the portraits of +all the generals of Napoleon, save one. _Ney's_ is not there. It +should, and will be, at some time or other, doubtless; but I wonder +that, in a day when such universal justice is done to the memory of +this brave man, so obvious and it would seem necessary a reparation +should not be demanded. Great efforts have been making of late to get +his sentence publicly reversed, but, though they deny his widow and +children nothing else, this melancholy and unavailing satisfaction is +refused them. Ney's memory little needs it, it is true. No visiter +looks about the gallery at the _Invalides_ without commenting +feelingly on the omission of his portrait; and probably no one of the +scarred veterans who sit there, reading their own deeds in history, +looks round on the faces of the old leaders of whom it tells, without +remembering and feeling that the brightest name upon the page is +wanting. I would rather, if I were his son, have the regret than the +justice. + +We left the hospital, as all must leave it, full of Napoleon. France +is full of him. The monuments and the hearts of the people, all are +alive with his name and glory. Disapprove and detract from his +reputation as you will (and as powerful minds, with apparent justice, +_have_ done), as long as human nature is what it is, as long as power +and loftiness of heart hold their present empire over the imagination, +Napoleon is immortal. + + * * * * * + +The promenading world is amused just now with the daily appearance in +the Tuileries of a Polish lady, dressed in the Polonaise undress +uniform, decorated with the order of distinction given for bravery at +Warsaw. She is not very beautiful, but she wears the handsome military +cap quite gallantly; and her small feet and full chest are truly +captivating in boots and a frogged coat. It is an exceedingly +spirited, well-charactered face, with a complexion slightly roughened +by her new habits. Her hair is cut short, and brushed up at the sides, +and she certainly handles the little switch she carries with an air +which entirely forbids insult. She is ordinarily seen lounging very +idly along between two polytechnic boys, who seem to have a great +admiration for her. I observe that the Polish generals touch their +hats very respectfully as she passes, but as yet I have been unable to +come at her precise history. + +By the by, masquerading in men's clothes is not at all uncommon in +Paris. I have sometimes seen two or three women at a time dining at +the restaurants in this way. No notice is taken of it, and the lady is +perfectly safe from insult, though every one that passes may penetrate +the disguise. It is common at the theatres, and at the public balls +still more so. I have noticed repeatedly at the weekly _soirees_ of a +lady of high respectability, two sisters in boy's clothes, who play +duets upon the piano for the dance. The lady of the house told me they +preferred it, to avoid attention, and the awkwardness of position +natural to their vocation, in society. The tailors tell me it is quite +a branch of trade--making suits for ladies of a similar taste. There +is one particularly, in the _Rue Richelieu_, who is famed for his nice +fits to the female figure. It is remarkable, however, that instead of +wearing their new honors meekly, there is no such impertinent puppy as +a _femme deguisee_. I saw one in a _cafe_, not long ago, rap the +_garcon_ very smartly over the fingers with a rattan, for overrunning +her cup; and they are sure to shoulder you off the sidewalk, if you +are at all in the way. I have seen several amusing instances of a +probable quarrel in the street, ending in a gay bow, and a "_pardon, +madame!_" + + * * * * * + +There has been a great deal of excitement here for the past two days +on the result of a gambling quarrel. An English gentleman, a fine, +gay, noble-looking fellow, whom I have often met at parties, and +admired for his strikingly winning and elegant manners, lost fifty +thousand francs on Thursday night at cards. The Count St. Leon was the +winner. It appears that Hesse, the Englishman, had drank freely before +sitting down to play, and the next morning his friend, who had bet +upon the game, persuaded him that there had been some unfairness on +the part of his opponent. He refused consequently to pay the debt, and +charged the Frenchman, and another gentleman who backed him, with +deception. The result was a couple of challenges, which were both +accepted. Hesse fought the Count on Friday, and was dangerously +wounded at the first fire. His friend fought on Saturday (yesterday), +and is reported to be mortally wounded. It is a little remarkable that +both the _losers_ are shot, and still more remarkable, that Hesse +should have been, as he was known to be, a natural son of George the +Fourth; and Count Leon, as was equally well known, a natural son of +Bonaparte! + +Everybody gambles in Paris. I had no idea that so desperate a vice +could be so universal, and so little deprecated as it is. The +gambling-houses are as open and as ordinary a resort as any public +promenade, and one may haunt them with as little danger to his +reputation. To dine from six to eight, gamble from eight to ten, go to +a ball, and return to gamble till morning, is as common a routine for +married men and bachelors both, as a system of dress, and as little +commented on. I sometimes stroll into the card-room at a party, but I +can not get accustomed to the sight of ladies losing or winning money. +Almost all Frenchwomen, who are too old to dance, play at parties; and +their daughters and husbands watch the game as unconcernedly as if +they were turning over prints. I have seen English ladies play, but +with less philosophy. They do not lose their money gayly. It is a +great spoiler of beauty, the vexation of a loss. I think I never could +respect a woman upon whose face I had remarked the shade I often see +at an English card-table. It is certain that vice walks abroad in +Paris, in many a shape that would seem, to an American eye, to show +the fiend too openly. I am not over particular, I think, but I would +as soon expose a child to the plague as give either son or daughter a +free rein for a year in Paris. + + + + +LETTER XVI. + + THE CHOLERA--A MASQUE BALL--THE GAY WORLD--MOBS--VISIT TO THE + HOTEL DIEU. + + +You see by the papers, I presume, the official accounts of the cholera +in Paris. It seems very terrible to you, no doubt, at your distance +from the scene, and truly it is terrible enough, if one could realize +it, anywhere; but many here do not trouble themselves about it, and +you might be in this metropolis a month, and if you observed the +people only, and frequented only the places of amusement, and the +public promenades, you might never suspect its existence. The weather +is June-like, deliciously warm and bright; the trees are just in the +tender green of the new buds, and the public gardens are thronged all +day with thousands of the gay and idle, sitting under the trees in +groups, laughing and amusing themselves, as if there were no plague in +the air, though hundreds die every day. The churches are all hung in +black; there is a constant succession of funerals; and you cross the +biers and hand-barrows of the sick, hurrying to the hospitals at every +turn, in every quarter of the city. It is very hard to realize such +things, and, it would seem, very hard even to treat them seriously. I +was at a masque ball at the _Theatre des Varietes_, a night or two +since, at the celebration of the _Mi-Careme_, or half-Lent. There were +some two thousand people, I should think, in fancy dresses, most of +them grotesque and satirical, and the ball was kept up till seven in +the morning, with all the extravagant gaiety, noise, and fun, with +which the French people manage such matters. There was a +_cholera-waltz_, and a _cholera-galopade_, and one man, immensely +tall, dressed as a personification of the _Cholera_ itself, with +skeleton armor, bloodshot eyes, and other horrible appurtenances of a +walking pestilence. It was the burden of all the jokes, and all the +cries of the hawkers, and all the conversation; and yet, probably, +nineteen out of twenty of those present lived in the quarters most +ravaged by the disease, and many of them had seen it face to face, and +knew perfectly its deadly character! + +As yet, with few exceptions, the higher classes of society have +escaped. It seems to depend very much on the manner in which people +live, and the poor have been struck in every quarter, often at the +very next door to luxury. A friend told me this morning, that the +porter of a large and fashionable hotel, in which he lives, had been +taken to the hospital; and there have been one or two cases in the +airy quarter of St. Germain, in the same street with Mr. Cooper, and +nearly opposite. Several physicians and medical students have died +too, but the majority of these live with the narrowest economy, and in +the parts of the city the most liable to impure effluvia. The balls go +on still in the gay world; and I presume they _would_ go on if there +were only musicians enough left to make an orchestra, or fashionists +to compose a quadrille. I was walking home very late from a party the +night before last, with a captain in the English army. The gray of +the morning was just stealing into the sky; and after a stopping a +moment in the _Place Vendome_, to look at the column, stretching up +apparently unto the very stars, we bade good morning, and parted. He +had hardly left me, he said, when he heard a frightful scream from one +of the houses in the _Rue St. Honore_, and thinking there might be +some violence going on, he rang at the gate and entered, mounting the +first staircase that presented. A woman had just opened a door, and +fallen on the broad stair at the top, and was writhing in great agony. +The people of the house collected immediately; but the moment my +friend pronounced the word cholera, there was a general dispersion, +and he was left alone with the patient. He took her in his arms, and +carried her to a coach-stand, without assistance, and, driving to the +_Hotel Dieu_, left her with the _Soeurs de Charite_. She has since +died. + +As if one plague were not enough, the city is still alive in the +distant faubourgs with revolts. Last night, the _rappel_ was beat all +over the town, the national guard called to arms, and marched to the +_Porte St. Denis_, and the different quarters where the mobs were +collected. + +Many suppose there is no cholera except such as is produced by poison; +and the _Hotel Dieu_, and the other hospitals, are besieged daily by +the infuriated mob, who swear vengeance against the government for all +the mortality they witness. + + * * * * * + +I have just returned from a visit to the _Hotel Dieu_--the hospital +for the cholera. Impelled by a powerful motive, which it is not now +necessary to explain, I had previously made several attempts to gain +admission in vain; but yesterday I fell in fortunately with an English +physician, who told me I could pass with a doctor's diploma, which he +offered to borrow for me of some medical friend. He called by +appointment at seven this morning, to accompany me on my visit. + +It was like one of our loveliest mornings in June--an inspiriting, +sunny, balmy day, all softness and beauty--and we crossed the +Tuileries by one of its superb avenues, and kept down the bank of the +river to the island. With the errand on which we were bound in our +minds, it was impossible not to be struck very forcibly with our own +exquisite enjoyment of life. I am sure I never felt my veins fuller of +the pleasure of health and motion; and I never saw a day when +everything about me seemed better worth living for. The splendid +palace of the Louvre, with its long _facade_ of nearly half a mile, +lay in the mellowest sunshine on our left; the lively river, covered +with boats, and spanned with its magnificent and crowded bridges on +our right; the view of the island, with its massive old structures +below, and the fine gray towers of the church of _Notre Dame_ rising, +dark and gloomy, in the distance, rendered it difficult to realize +anything but life and pleasure. That under those very towers, which +added so much to the beauty of the scene, there lay a thousand and +more of poor wretches dying of a plague, was a thought my mind would +not retain a moment. + +Half an hour's walk brought us to the _Place Notre Dame_, on one side +of which, next this celebrated church, stands the hospital. My friend +entered, leaving me to wait till he had found an acquaintance of whom +he could borrow a diploma. A hearse was standing at the door of the +church, and I went in for a moment. A few mourners, with the +appearance of extreme poverty, were kneeling round a coffin at one of +the side altars; and a solitary priest, with an attendant boy, was +mumbling the prayers for the dead. As I came out, another hearse drove +up, with a rough coffin, scantily covered with a pall, and followed by +one poor old man. They hurried in, and I strolled around the square. +Fifteen or twenty water-carriers were filling their buckets at the +fountain opposite, singing and laughing; and at the same moment four +different litters crossed toward the hospital, each with its two or +three followers, women and children, friends or relatives of the sick, +accompanying them to the door, where they parted from them, most +probably for ever. The litters were set down a moment before ascending +the steps; the crowd pressed around and lifted the coarse curtains; +farewells were exchanged, and the sick alone passed in. I did not see +any great demonstration of feeling in the particular cases that were +before me; but I can conceive, in the almost deadly certainty of this +disease, that these hasty partings at the door of the hospital might +often be scenes of unsurpassed suffering and distress. + +I waited, perhaps, ten minutes more. In the whole time that I had been +there, twelve litters, bearing the sick, had entered the _Hotel Dieu_. +As I exhibited the borrowed diploma, the thirteenth arrived, and with +it a young man, whose violent and uncontrolled grief worked so far on +the soldier at the door, that he allowed him to pass. I followed the +bearers to the yard, interested exceedingly to observe the first +treatment and manner of reception. They wound slowly up the stone +staircase to the upper story, and entered the female department--a +long low room, containing nearly a hundred beds, placed in alleys +scarce two feet from each other. Nearly all were occupied, and those +which were empty my friend told me were vacated by deaths yesterday. +They set down the litter by the side of a narrow cot, with coarse but +clean sheets, and a _Soeur de Charite_, with a white cap, and a +cross at her girdle, came and took off the canopy. A young woman, of +apparently twenty-five, was beneath, absolutely convulsed with agony. +Her eyes were started from their sockets, her mouth foamed, and her +face was of a frightful, livid purple. I never saw so horrible a +sight. She had been taken in perfect health only three hours before, +but her features looked to me marked with a year of pain. The first +attempt to lift her produced violent vomiting, and I thought she must +die instantly. They covered her up in bed, and leaving the man who +came with her hanging over her with the moan of one deprived of his +senses, they went to receive others, who were entering in the same +manner. I inquired of my companion how soon she would be attended to. +He said, "possibly in an hour, as the physician was just commencing +his rounds." An hour after this I passed the bed of this poor woman, +and she had not yet been visited. Her husband answered my question +with a choking voice and a flood of tears. + +I passed down the ward, and found nineteen or twenty in the last +agonies of death. They lay perfectly still, and seemed benumbed. I +felt the limbs of several, and found them quite cold. The stomach only +had a little warmth. Now and then a half groan escaped those who +seemed the strongest; but with the exception of the universally open +mouth and upturned ghastly eye, there were no signs of much suffering. +I found two who must have been dead half an hour, undiscovered by the +attendants. One of them was an old woman, nearly gray, with a very bad +expression of face, who was perfectly cold--lips, limbs, body, and +all. The other was younger, and looked as if she had died in pain. +Her eyes appeared as if they had been forced half out of the sockets, +and her skin was of the most livid and deathly purple. The woman in +the next bed told me she had died since the _Soeur de Charite_ had +been there. It is horrible to think how these poor creatures may +suffer in the very midst of the provisions that are made professedly +for their relief. I asked why a simple prescription of treatment might +not be drawn up the physicians, and administered by the numerous +medical students who were in Paris, that as few as possible might +suffer from delay. "Because," said my companion, "the chief physicians +must do everything _personally_, to study the complaint." And so, I +verily believe, more human lives are sacrificed in waiting for +experiments, than ever will be saved by the results. My blood boiled +from the beginning to the end of this melancholy visit. + +I wandered about alone among the beds till my heart was sick, and I +could bear it no longer; and then rejoined my friend, who was in the +train of one of the physicians, making the rounds. One would think a +dying person should be treated with kindness. I never saw a rougher or +more heartless manner than that of the celebrated Dr. ----, at the +bedsides of these poor creatures. A harsh question, a rude pulling +open of the mouth, to look at the tongue, a sentence or two of +unsuppressed comments to the students on the progress of the disease, +and the train passed on. If discouragement and despair are not +medicines, I should think the visits of such physicians were of little +avail. The wretched sufferers turned away their heads after he had +gone, in every instance that I saw, with an expression of visibly +increased distress. Several of them refused to answer his questions +altogether. + +On reaching the bottom of the _Salle St. Monique_, one of the male +wards, I heard loud voices and laughter. I had noticed much more +groaning and complaining in passing among the men, and the horrible +discordance struck me as something infernal. It proceeded from one of +the sides to which the patients had been removed who were recovering. +The most successful treatment has been found to be _punch_, very +strong, with but little acid, and being permitted to drink as much as +they would, they had become partially intoxicated. It was a fiendish +sight, positively. They were sitting up, and reaching from one bed to +the other, and with their still pallid faces and blue lips, and the +hospital dress of white, they looked like so many carousing corpses. I +turned away from them in horror. + +I was stopped in the door-way by a litter entering with a sick woman. +They set her down in the main passage between the beds, and left her a +moment to find a place for her. She seemed to have an interval of +pain, and rose up on one hand, and looked about her very earnestly. I +followed the direction of her eyes, and could easily imagine her +sensations. Twenty or thirty death-like faces were turned toward her +from the different beds, and the groans of the dying and the +distressed came from every side. She was without a friend whom she +knew, sick of a mortal disease, and abandoned to the mercy of those +whose kindness is mercenary and habitual, and of course without +sympathy or feeling. Was it not enough alone, if she had been far less +ill, to imbitter the very fountains of life, and kill her with mere +fright and horror? She sank down upon the litter again, and drew her +shawl over her head. I had seen enough of suffering, and I left the +place. + +On reaching the lower staircase, my friend proposed to me to look +into the _dead-room_. We descended to a large dark apartment below the +street-level, lighted by a lamp fixed to the wall. Sixty or seventy +bodies lay on the floor, some of them quite uncovered, and some +wrapped in mats. I could not see distinctly enough by the dim light, +to judge of their discoloration. They appeared mostly old and +emaciated. + +I can not describe the sensation of relief with which I breathed the +free air once more. I had no fear of the cholera, but the suffering +and misery I had seen, oppressed and half smothered me. Every one who +has walked through an hospital, will remember how natural it is to +subdue the breath, and close the nostrils to the smells of medicine +and the close air. The fact, too, that the question of contagion is +still disputed, though I fully believe the cholera _not_ to be +contagious, might have had some effect. My breast heaved, however, as +if a weight had risen from my lungs, and I walked home, blessing God +for health, with undissembled gratitude. + + * * * * * + +P. S.--I began this account of my visit to the _Hotel Dieu_ yesterday. +As I am perfectly well this morning, I think the point of +non-contagion, in my own case at least, is clear. I breathed the same +air with the dying and the diseased for two hours, and felt of nearly +a hundred to be satisfied of the curious phenomena of the vital heat. +Perhaps an experiment of this sort in a man not professionally a +physician, may be considered rash or useless; and I would not +willingly be thought to have done it from any puerile curiosity. I +have been interested in such subjects always; and I considered the +fact that the king's sons had been permitted to visit the hospital, a +sufficient assurance that the physicians were seriously convinced +there could be no possible danger. If I need an apology, it may be +found in this. + + + + +LETTER XVII. + + LEGION OF HONOR--PRESENTATION TO THE KING--THE THRONE OF + FRANCE--THE QUEEN AND THE PRINCESSES--COUNTESS GUICCIOLI--THE + LATE DUEL--THE SEASON OF CARNIVAL--ANOTHER FANCY BALL-- + DIFFERENCE BETWEEN PRIVATE AND PUBLIC MASKERS--STREET + MASKING--BALL AT THE PALACE--THE YOUNG DUKE OF ORLEANS-- + PRINCESS CHRISTINE--LORD HARRY VANE--HEIR OF CARDINAL + RICHELIEU--VILLIERS--BERNARD, FABVIER, COUSIN, AND OTHER + DISTINGUISHED CHARACTERS--THE SUPPER--THE GLASS VERANDAH, ETC. + + +As I was getting out of a _fiacre_ this morning on the Boulevard, I +observed that the driver had the cross of the legion of honor, worn +very modestly under his coat. On taking a second look at his face, I +was struck with its soldier-like, honest expression; and with the fear +that I might imply a doubt by a question, I simply observed, that he +probably received it from Napoleon. He drew himself up a little as he +assented, and with half a smile pulled the coarse cape of his coat +across his bosom. It was done evidently with a mixed feeling of pride +and a dislike of ostentation, which showed the nurture of Napoleon. It +is astonishing how superior every being seems to have become that +served under him. Wherever you find an old soldier of the "emperor," +as they delight to call him, you find a noble, brave, unpretending +man. On mentioning this circumstance to a friend, he informed me, that +it was possibly a man who was well known, from rather a tragical +circumstance. He had driven a gentleman to a party one night, who was +dissatisfied with him, for some reason or other, and abused him very +grossly. The _cocher_ the next morning sent him a challenge; and, as +the cross of honor levels all distinctions, he was compelled to fight +him, and was shot dead at the first fire. + +Honors of this sort must be a very great incentive. They are worn very +proudly in France. You see men of all classes, with the striped riband +in their button-hole, marking them as the heroes of the three days of +July. The Poles and the French and English, who fought well at Warsaw, +wear also a badge; and it certainly produces a feeling of respect as +one passes them in the street. There are several very young men, lads +really, who are wandering about Paris, with the latter distinction on +their breasts, and every indication that it is all they have brought +away from their unhappy country. The Poles are coming in now from +every quarter. I meet occasionally in society the celebrated Polish +countess, who lost her property and was compelled to flee, for her +devotion to the cause. Louis Philippe has formed a regiment of the +refugees, and sent them to Algiers. He allows no liberalists to remain +in Paris, if he can help it. The Spaniards and Italians, particularly, +are ordered off to Tours, and other provincial towns, the instant they +become pensioners upon the government. + +I was presented last night, with Mr. Carr and Mr. Ritchie, two of our +countrymen, to the king. We were very naturally prepared for an +embarrassing ceremony--an expectation which was not lessened, in my +case, by the necessity of a laced coat, breeches, and sword. We drove +into the court of the Tuileries, as the palace clock struck nine, in +the costume of courtiers of the time of Louis the Twelfth, very +anxious about the tenacity of our knee-buckles, and not at all +satisfied as to the justice done to our unaccustomed proportions by +the tailor. To say nothing of my looks, I am sure I should have _felt_ +much more like a gentleman in my _costume bourgeois_. By the time we +had been passed through the hands of all the chamberlains, however, +and walked through all the preparatory halls and drawing-rooms, each +with its complement of gentlemen in waiting, dressed like ourselves in +lace and small-clothes, I became more reconciled to myself, and began +to _feel_ that I might possibly have looked out of place in my +ordinary dress. The atmosphere of a court is very contagious in this +particular. + +After being sufficiently astonished with long rooms, frescoes, and +guardsmen apparently seven or eight feet high, (the tallest men I ever +saw, standing with halberds at the doors), we were introduced into the +_Salle du Trone_--a large hall lined with crimson velvet throughout, +with the throne in the centre of one of the sides. Some half dozen +gentlemen were standing about the fire, conversing very familiarly, +among whom was the British ambassador, Lord Grenville, and the +Brazilian minister, both of whom I had met before. The king was not +there. The Swedish minister, a noble-looking man, with snow-white +hair, was the only other official person present, each of the +ministers having come to present one or two of his countrymen. The +king entered in a few moments, in the simple uniform of the line, and +joined the group at the fire, with the most familiar and cordial +politeness; each minister presenting his countrymen as occasion +offered, certainly with far less ceremony than one sees at most +dinner-parties in America. After talking a few minutes with Lord +Grenville, inquiring the progress of the cholera, he turned to Mr. +Rives, and we were presented. We stood in a little circle round him, +and he conversed with us about America for ten or fifteen minutes. He +inquired from what States we came, and said he had been as far west as +Nashville, Tennessee, and had often slept in the woods, quite as +soundly as he ever did in more luxurious quarters. He begged pardon of +Mr. Carr, who was from South Carolina, for saying that he had found +the southern taverns not particularly good. He preferred the north. +All this time I was looking out for some accent in the "king's +English." He speaks the language with all the careless correctness and +fluency of a vernacular tongue. We were all surprised at it. It is +_American_ English, however. He has not a particle of the cockney +drawl, half Irish and half Scotch, with which many Englishmen speak. +He must be the most cosmopolite king that ever reigned. He even said +he had been at Tangiers, the place of Mr. Carr's consulate. After some +pleasant compliments to our country, he passed to the Brazilian +minister, who stood on the other side, leaving us delighted with his +manner; and, probably, in spite of our independence, much more +inclined than before to look indulgently upon his politics. The queen +had entered, meantime, with the king's sister, Lady Adelaide, and one +or two of the ladies of honor; and, after saying something courteous +to all, in her own language, and assuring _us_ that his majesty was +very fond of America, the royal group bowed out, and left us once more +to ourselves. + +We remained a few minutes, and I occupied myself with looking at the +gold and crimson throne before me, and recalling to my mind the world +of historical circumstances connected with it. You can easily imagine +it all. The throne of France is, perhaps, the most interesting one in +the world. But, of all its associations, none rushed upon me so +forcibly, or retained my imagination so long, as the accidental drama +of which it was the scene during the three days of July. It was here +that the people brought the polytechnic scholar, mortally wounded in +the attack on the palace, to die. He breathed his last on the throne +of France, surrounded with his comrades and a crowd of patriots. It is +one of the most striking and affecting incidents, I think, in all +history. + +As we passed out I caught a glimpse, through a side door, of the queen +and the princesses sitting round a table covered with books, in a +small drawing-room, while a servant, in the gaudy livery of the court, +was just entering with tea. The careless attitudes of the figures, the +mellow light of the shade-lamp, and the happy voices of children +coming through the door, reminded me more of home than anything I have +seen in France. It is odd, but really the most aching sense of +home-sickness I have felt since I left America, was awakened at that +moment--in the palace of a king, and at the sight of his queen and +daughters! + +We stopped in the antechamber to have our names recorded in the +visiting-book--a ceremony which insures us invitations to all the +balls given at court during the winter. The first has already appeared +in the shape of a printed note, in which we are informed by the +"aide-de-camp of the king and the lady of honor of the queen," that +we are invited to a ball at the palace on Monday night. To my distress +there is a little direction at the bottom, "_Les hommes seront en +uniforme_," which subjects those of us who are not military, once more +to the awkwardness of this ridiculous court dress. I advise all +Americans coming abroad to get a commission in the militia to travel +with. It is of use in more ways than one. + + * * * * * + +I met the _Countess Guiccioli_, walking yesterday in the Tuileries. +She looks much younger than I anticipated, and is a handsome _blonde_, +apparently about thirty. I am told by a gentleman who knows her, that +she has become a great flirt, and is quite spoiled by admiration. The +celebrity of Lord Byron's attachment would, certainly, make her a very +desirable acquaintance, were she much less pretty than she really is; +and I am told her drawing-room is thronged with lovers of all nations, +contending for a preference, which, having been once given, as it has, +should be buried, I think, for ever. So, indeed, should have been the +Empress Maria Louisa's, and that of the widow of Bishop Heber; and yet +the latter has married a Greek count, and the former a German baron! + + * * * * * + +I find I was incorrect in the statement I gave you of the duel between +Mr. Hesse and Count Leon. The particulars have come out more fully, +and from the curious position of the parties (Mr. Hesse, as I stated, +being the natural son of George the Fourth, and Count Leon of +Napoleon) are worth recapitulating. Count Leon had lost several +thousand francs to Mr. Hesse, which he refused to pay, alleging that +there had been unfair dealing in the game. The matter was left to +arbitration, and Mr. Hesse fully cleared of the charge. Leon still +refused to pay, and for fifteen days practised with the pistol from +morning till night. At the end of this time he paid the money, and +challenged Hesse. The latter had lost the use of his right arm in the +battle of Waterloo, (fighting of course against Count Leon's father), +but accepted his challenge, and fired with his left hand. Hesse was +shot through the body, and has since died, and Count Leon was not +hurt. The affair has made a great sensation here, for Hesse had a +young and lovely wife, only seventeen, and was unusually beloved and +admired; while his opponent is a notorious gambler, and every way +detested. People meet at the gaming-table here, however, as they meet +in the street, without question of character. + + * * * * * + +Carnival is over. Yesterday was "_Mardi Gras_"--the last day of the +reign of Folly. Paris has been like a city of grown-up children for a +week. What with masking all night, supping, or breakfasting, (which +you please), at sunrise, and going to bed between morning and noon, I +feel that I have done my _devoir_ upon the experiment of French +manners. + +It would be tedious, not to say improper, to describe all the +absurdities I have seen and mingled in for the last fortnight; but I +must try to give you some idea of the meaning the French attach to the +season of carnival, and the manner in which it is celebrated. + +In society it is the time for universal gaiety and freedom. Parties, +fancy balls, and private masques, are given, and kept up till morning. +The etiquette is something more free, and gallantry is indulged and +followed with the privileges, almost, of a Saturnalia. One of the +gayest things I have seen was a fancy ball, given by a man of some +fashion, in the beginning of the season. Most of the _distingues_ of +Paris were there; and it was, perhaps, as fair a specimen of the +elegant gaiety of the French capital, as occurred during the carnival. +The rooms were full by ten. Everybody was in costume, and the ladies +in dresses of unusual and costly splendor. At a _bal costume_ there +are no masks, of course, and dancing, waltzing, and galopading +followed each other in the ordinary succession, but with all the +heightened effect and additional spirit of a magnificent spectacle. It +was really beautiful. There were officers from all the English +regiments, in their fine showy uniforms; and French officers who had +brought dresses from their far-off campaigns; Turks, Egyptians, +Mussulmans, and Algerine rovers--every country that had been touched +by French soldiers, represented in its richest costume and by men of +the finest appearance. There was a colonel of the English Madras +cavalry, in the uniform of his corps--one mass of blue and silver, the +most splendidly dressed man I ever saw; and another Englishman, who is +said to be the successor of Lord Byron in the graces of the gay and +lovely Countess Guiccioli, was dressed as a Greek; and between the +exquisite taste and richness of his costume, and his really excessive +personal beauty, he made no ordinary sensation. The loveliest woman +there was a young baroness, whose dancing, figure, and face, so +resembled a celebrated Philadelphia belle, that I was constantly +expecting her musical French voice to break into English. She was +dressed as an eastern dancing-girl, and floated about with the +lightness and grace of a fairy. Her motion intoxicated the eye +completely. I have seen her since at the Tuileries, where, in a waltz +with the handsome Duke of Orleans, she was the single object of +admiration for the whole court. She is a small, lightly-framed +creature, with very little feet, and a face of more brilliancy than +regular beauty, but all airiness and spirit. A very lovely, +indolent-looking English girl, with large sleepy eyes, was dressed as +a Circassian slave, with chains from her ankles to her waist. She was +a beautiful part of the spectacle, but too passive to interest one. +There were sylphs and nuns, broom-girls and Italian peasants, and a +great many in rich Polonaise dresses. It was unlike any other fancy +ball I ever saw, in the variety and novelty of the characters +represented, and the costliness with which they were dressed. You can +have no idea of the splendor of a waltz in such a glittering +assemblage. It was about time for an early breakfast when the ball was +over. + +The private masks are amusing to those who are intimate with the +circle. A stranger, of course, is neither acquainted enough to amuse +himself within proper limits, nor incognito enough to play his +gallantries at hazard. I never have seen more decidedly _triste_ +assemblies than the balls of this kind which I have attended, where +the uniform black masks and dominoes gave the party the aspect of a +funeral, and the restraint made it quite as melancholy. + +The public masks are quite another affair. They are given at the +principal theatres, and commence at midnight. The pit and stage are +thrown into a brilliant hall, with the orchestra in the centre; the +music is divine, and the etiquette perfect liberty. There is, of +course, a great deal of vulgar company, for every one is admitted who +pays the ten francs at the door; but all classes of people mingle in +the crowd; and if one is not amused, it is because he will neither +listen nor talk. I think it requires one or two masks to get one's eye +so much accustomed to the sight, that he is not disgusted with the +exteriors of the women. There was something very diabolical to me at +first in a dead, black representation of the human face, and the long +black domino. Persuading one's self that there is beauty under such an +outside, is like getting up a passion for a very ugly woman, for the +sake of her mind--difficult, rather. I soon became used to it, +however, and amused myself infinitely. One is liable to waste his wit, +to be sure; for in a crowd so rarely _bien composee_, as they phrase +it, the undistinguishing dress gives every one the opportunity of +bewildering you; but the feet and manner of walking, and the tone and +mode of expression, are indices sufficiently certain to decide, and +give interest to a pursuit; and, with tolerable caution, one is paid +for his trouble, in nineteen cases out of twenty. + +At the public masks, the visitors are not all in domino. One half at +least are in caricature dresses, men in petticoats, and women in boots +and spurs. It is not always easy to detect the sex. An English lady, a +carnival-acquaintance of mine, made love successfully, with the aid of +a tall figure and great spirit, to a number of her own sex. She wore a +half uniform, and was certainly a very elegant fellow. France is so +remarkable indeed, for effeminate-looking men and masculine-looking +women, that half the population might change costume to apparent +advantage. The French are fond of caricaturing English dandies, and +they do it with great success. The imitation of Bond-street dialect in +another language is highly amusing. There were two imitation +exquisites at the "_Varietes_" one night, who were dressed to +perfection, and must have studied the character thoroughly. The whole +theatre was in a roar when they entered. Malcontents take the +opportunity to show up the king and ministers, and these are +excellent, too. One gets weary of fun. It is a life which becomes +tedious long before carnival is over. It is a relief to sit down once +more to books and pen. + +The three last days are devoted to street-masking. This is the most +ridiculous of all. Paris pours out its whole population upon the +Boulevards, and guards are stationed to keep the goers and comers in +separate lines, and prevent all collecting of groups on the _pave_. +People in the most grotesque and absurd dress pass on foot, and in +loaded carriages, and all is nonsense and obscenity. It is difficult +to conceive the motive which can induce grown-up people to go to the +expense and trouble of such an exhibition, merely to amuse the world. +A description of these follies would be waste of paper. + +On the last night but one of the carnival, I went to a ball at the +palace. We presented our invitations at the door, and mounted through +piles of soldiers of the line, crowds of servants in the king's +livery, and groves of exotics at the broad landing places, to the +reception room. We were ushered into the _Salle des Marechals_--a +large hall, the ceiling of which rises into the dome of the Tuileries, +ornamented with full-length portraits of the living marshals of +France. A gallery of a light airy structure runs round upon the +capitals of the pillars, and this, when we entered, and at all the +after hours of the ball, was crowded with loungers from the assembly +beneath--producing a splendid effect, as their glittering uniforms +passed and repassed under the flags and armor with which the ceilings +were thickly hung. The royal train entered presently, and the band +struck up a superb march. Three rows of velvet-covered seats, one +above another, went round the hall, leaving a passage behind, and, in +front of these, the queen and her family made a circuit of courtesy, +followed by the wives of the ambassadors, among whom was our +countrywoman, Mrs. Rives. Her majesty went smiling past, stopping here +and there to speak to a lady whom she recognized, and the king +followed her with his eternal and painfully forced smile, saying +something to every second person he encountered. The princesses have +good faces, and the second one has an expression of great delicacy and +tenderness, but no beauty. As soon as the queen was seated, the band +played a quadrille, and the crowd cleared away from the centre for the +dance. The Duke of Orleans selected his partner, a pretty girl, who, I +believe was English, and forward went the head couples to the +exquisite music of the new opera--Robert le Diable. + +I fell into the little _cortege_ standing about the queen, and watched +the interesting party dancing the head quadrille for an hour. The Duke +of Orleans, who is nearly twenty, and seems a thoughtless, +good-natured, immature young man, moved about very gracefully with his +handsome figure, and seemed amused, and quite unconscious of the +attention he drew. The princesses were _vis-a-vis_, and the second +one, a dark-haired, slender, interesting girl of nineteen, had a +polytechnic scholar for her partner. He was a handsome, +gallant-looking fellow, who must have distinguished himself to have +been invited to court, and I could not but admire the beautiful +mixture of respect and self-confidence with which he demanded the hand +of the princess from the lady of honor, and conversed with her during +the dance. If royalty does not seal up the affections, I could scarce +conceive how a being so decidedly of nature's best nobility, handsome, +graceful, and confident, could come within the sphere of a +sensitive-looking girl, like the princess Christine, and not leave +more than a transient recollection upon her fancy. The music stopped, +and I had been so occupied with my speculations upon the polytechnic +boy, that I had scarcely noticed any other person in the dance. He led +the princess back to her seat by the _dame d'honneur_, bowing low, +colored a little, and mingled with the crowd. A few minutes after, I +saw him in the gallery, quite alone, leaning over the railing, and +looking down upon the scene below, having apparently abandoned the +dance for the evening. From something in his face, and in the manner +of resuming his sword, I was certain he had come to the palace with +that single object, and would dance no more. I kept him in my eye most +of the night, and am very sure he did not. If the little romance I +wove out of it was not a true one, it was not because the material was +improbable. + +As I was looking still at the quadrille dancing before the queen, Dr. +Bowring took my arm and proposed a stroll through the other +apartments. I found that the immense crowd in the _Salle des +Marechals_ was but about one fifth of the assembly. We passed through +hall after hall, with music and dancing in each, all crowded and gay +alike, till we came at last to the _Salle du Trone_ where the old men +were collected at card-tables and in groups for conversation. My +distinguished companion was of the greatest use to me here, for he +knew everybody, and there was scarce a person in the room who did not +strongly excite my curiosity. One half of them at least were maimed; +some without arms, and some with wooden legs, and faces scarred and +weather-burnt, but all in full uniform, and nearly all with three or +four orders of honor on the breast. You would have held your breath +to have heard the recapitulation of their names. At one table sat +_Marshal Grouchy_ and _General Excelmans_; in a corner stood _Marshal +Soult_, conversing with a knot of peers of France; and in the window +nearest the door, _General Bernard_, our country's friend and citizen, +was earnestly engaged in talking to a group of distinguished-looking +men, two of whom, my companion said, were members of the chamber of +deputies. We stood a moment, and a circle was immediately formed +around Dr. Bowring, who is a great favorite among the literary and +liberal people of France. The celebrated _General Fabvier_ came up +among others, and _Cousin_ the poet. Fabvier, as you know, held a +chief command in Greece, and was elected governor of Paris _pro tem._ +after the "three days." He is a very remarkable-looking man, with a +head almost exactly resembling that of the bust of Socrates. The +engravings give him a more animated and warlike expression than he +wears in private. _Cousin_ is a mild, retired-looking man, and was one +of the very few persons present not in the court uniform. Among so +many hundred coats embroidered with gold, his plain black dress looked +singularly simple and poet-like. + +I left the diplomatist-poet conversing with his friends, and went back +to the dancing rooms. Music and female beauty are more attractive +metal than disabled generals playing at cards; and encountering in my +way an _attache_ to the American legation, I inquired about one or two +faces that interested me, and collecting information enough to pass +through the courtesies of a dance, I found a partner and gave myself +up, like the rest, to amusement. + +Supper was served at two, and a more splendid affair could not be +conceived. A long and magnificent hall on the other side of the +_Salle du Trone_ was set with tables, covered with everything that +France could afford, in the royal services of gold and silver, and in +the greatest profusion. There was room enough for all the immense +assemblage, and when the queen was seated with her daughters and +ladies of honor, the company sat down and all was as quiet and well +regulated as a dinner party of four. + +After supper the dancing was resumed, and the queen remained till +three o'clock. At her departure the band played _cotillons_ or waltzes +with figures, in which the Duke of Orleans displayed the grace for +which he is celebrated, and at four, quite exhausted with fatigue and +heat, I went with a friend or two into the long glass verandah, built +by Napoleon as a promenade for the Empress Maria Louisa during her +illness, where tea, coffee, and ices were served to those who wished +them after supper. It was an interesting place enough, and had my eyes +and limbs ached less, I should have liked to walk up and down, and +muse a little upon its recollections, but swallowing my tea as hastily +as possible, I was but too happy to make my escape and get home to +bed. + + + + +LETTER XVIII. + + CHOLERA--UNIVERSAL TERROR--FLIGHT OF THE INHABITANTS--CASES + WITHIN THE WALLS OF THE PALACE--DIFFICULTY OF ESCAPE--DESERTED + STREETS--CASES NOT REPORTED--DRYNESS OF THE ATMOSPHERE-- + PREVENTIVES RECOMMENDED--PUBLIC BATHS, ETC. + + +_Cholera! Cholera!_ It is now the only topic. There is no other +interest--no other dread--no other occupation, for Paris. The +invitations for parties are _at last_ recalled--the theatres are _at +last_ shut or languishing--the fearless are beginning to be +afraid--people walk the streets with camphor bags and vinaigrettes at +their nostrils--there is a universal terror in all classes, and a +general flight of all who can afford to get away. I never saw a people +so engrossed with one single and constant thought. The waiter brought +my breakfast this morning with a pale face, and an apprehensive +question, whether I was quite well. I sent to my boot-maker yesterday, +and he was dead. I called on a friend, a Hanoverian, one of those +broad-chested, florid, immortal-looking men, of whose health for +fifty years, violence apart, one is absolutely certain, and he was at +death's door with the cholera. Poor fellow! He had fought all through +the revolution in Greece; he had slept in rain and cold, under the +open sky, many a night, through a ten years' pursuit of the profession +of a soldier of fortune, living one of the most remarkable lives, +hitherto, of which I ever heard, and to be taken down here in the +midst of ease and pleasure, reduced to a shadow with so vulgar and +unwarlike a disease as this, was quite too much for his philosophy. He +had been ill three days when I found him. He was emaciated to a +skeleton in that short time, weak and helpless, and, though he is not +a man to exaggerate suffering, he said he never had conceived such +intense agony as he had endured. He assured me, that if he recovered, +and should ever be attacked with it again, he would blow out his +brains at the first symptom. Nothing but his iron constitution +protracted the disorder. Most people who are attacked die in from +three to twenty-four hours. + +For myself, I have felt and still feel quite safe. My rooms are in the +airiest quarter of Paris, facing the gardens of the Tuileries, with +windows overlooking the king's; and, as far as _air_ is concerned, if +his majesty considers himself well situated, it would be quite +ridiculous in so insignificant a person as myself to be alarmed. With +absolute health, confident spirits, and tolerably regular habits, I +have usually thought one may defy almost anything but love or a +bullet. To-day, however, there have been, they say, two cases _within +the palace-walls_, members of the royal household, and Casimir Perier, +who probably lives well and has enough to occupy his mind, is very low +with it, and one cannot help feeling that he has no certain exemption, +when a disease has touched both above and below him. I went to-day to +the Messagerie to engage my place for Marseilles, on the way to Italy, +but the seats are all taken, in both mail-post and diligence, for a +fortnight to come, and, as there are no _extras_ in France, one must +wait his turn. Having done my duty to myself by the inquiry, I shall +be content to remain quiet. + + * * * * * + +I have just returned from a social tea-party at a house of one of the +few English families left in Paris. It is but a little after ten, and +the streets, as I came along, were as deserted and still as if it were +a city of the dead. Usually, until four or five in the morning, the +same streets are thronged with carriages hurrying to and fro, and +always till midnight the _trottoirs_ are crowded with promenaders. +To-night I scarce met a foot-passenger, and but one solitary cabriolet +in a walk of a mile. The contrast was really impressive. The moon was +nearly full, and high in the heavens, and the sky absolutely without a +trace of a cloud; nothing interrupted the full broad light of the +moon, and the empty streets were almost as bright as at noon-day; and, +as I crossed the _Place Vendome_, I could hear, for the first time +since I have been in Paris, though I have passed it at every hour of +the night, the echo of my footsteps reverberated from the walls +around. You should have been in these crowded cities of Europe to +realize the impressive solemnity of such solitude. + +It is said that fifty thousand people have left Paris within the past +week. Adding this to the thousand a day who are struck with the +cholera, and the attendance necessary to the sick, and a thinned +population is sufficiently accounted for. There are, however, +hundreds ill of this frightful disease, whose cases are not reported. +It is only those who are taken to the hospitals, the poor and +destitute, who are numbered in the official statements. The physicians +are wearied out with their _private_ practice. The medical lectures +are suspended, and a regular physician is hardly to be had at all. +There is scarce a house in which some one has not been taken. You see +biers and litters issuing from almost every gate, and the better ranks +are no longer spared. A sister of the premier, M. Perier, died +yesterday; and it was reported at the _Bourse_, that several +distinguished persons, who have been ill of it, are also dead. No one +feels safe; and the consternation and dread on every countenance you +meet, is enough to chill one's very blood. I went out to-day for a +little exercise, not feeling very well, and I was glad to get home +again. Every creature looks stricken with a mortal fear. And this +among a French population, the gayest and merriest of people under all +depressions ordinarily, is too strong a contrast not to be felt +painfully. There is something singular in the air, too; a +disagreeable, depressing dryness, which the physicians say must +change, or all Paris will be struck with the plague. It is clear and +cold, but almost suffocating with dryness. + +It is very consoling in the midst of so much that is depressing, that +the preventives recommended against the cholera are so agreeable. +"Live well," say the doctors, "and bathe often. Abstain from excesses, +keep a clear head and good spirits, and amuse yourself as much and as +rationally as possible." It is a very excellent recipe for happiness, +let alone the cholera. There is great room for a nice observance of +this system in Paris, particularly the eating and bathing. The baths +are delightful. You are received in handsome saloons, opening upon a +garden in the centre of the building, ornamented with statues and +fountains, the journals lying upon the sofas, and everything arranged +with quite the luxury of a palace. The bathing-rooms are furnished +with taste; the baths are of marble, and covered inside with +spotlessly white linen cloths; the water is perfumed, and you may lie +and take your coffee, or have your breakfast served upon the mahogany +cover which shuts you in--a union of luxuries which is enough to +enervate a cynic. When you are ready to come out, a pull of the bell +brings a servant, who gives you a _peignoir_--a long linen wrapper, +heated in an oven, in the warm folds of which you are enveloped, and +in three minutes are quite dry. In this you may sit, at your ease, +reading, or musing, or lie upon the sofa without the restraint of a +tight dress, till you are ready to depart; and then four or five +francs, something less than a dollar, pays for all. + + + + +LETTER XIX. + + MORNING VIEW FROM THE RUE RIVOLI--THE BOIS DE + BOULOGNE--GUICCIOLI--SISMONDI THE HISTORIAN, ETC. + + +It is now the middle of April, and, sitting at my window on the _Rue +Rivoli_, I look through one of the long, clipped avenues of the +Tuileries, and see an arch of green leaves, the sun of eight o'clock +in the morning just breaking through the thin foliage and dappling the +straight, even gravel-walk below, with a look of summer that makes my +heart leap. The cholera has put an end to dissipation, and one gets up +early, from necessity. It is delicious to step out before breakfast, +and cross the street into those lovely gardens, for an hour or two of +fresh air and reflection. It is warm enough now to sit on the stone +benches about the fountains, by the time the dew is dry; and I know +nothing so contemplative as the occupation of watching these royal +swans, in the dreamy, almost imperceptible motion with which they +glide around the edges of the basins. The gold fish swim up and circle +about the breast of the imperial birds with a motion almost as idle; +and the old wooden-legged soldier, who has been made warden of the +gardens for his service, sits nodding on one of the chairs, or drawing +fortifications with his stick in the gravel; and so it happens, that, +in the midst of a gay and busy city one may feel always a luxurious +solitude; and, be he ever so poor, loiter all day if he will, among +scenes which only regal munificence could provide for him. With the +_Seine_ bounding them on one side, the splendid uniform _facade_ of +the _Rue Rivoli_ on the other, the palace stretching across the +southern terrace, and the thick woods of the _Champs Elysees_ at the +opposite gate, where could one go in the world to give his taste or +his eye a more costly or delightful satisfaction? + +The _Bois de Boulogne_, about which the Parisians talk so much, is +less to my taste. It is a level wood of small trees, covering a mile +or two square, and cut from corner to corner with straight roads for +driving. The soil is sandy, and the grass grows only in tufts, the +walks are rough, and either muddy or dusty always; and, barring the +equipages and the pleasure of a word in passing an acquaintance, I +find a drive to this famous wood rather a dull business. I want either +one thing or the other--cultivated grounds like the Tuileries, or the +wild wood. + + * * * * * + +I have just left the Countess Guiccioli, with whom I have been +acquainted for some two or three weeks. She is very much frightened at +the cholera, and thinks of going to America. The conversation turned +principally upon Shelley, whom of course she knew intimately; and she +gave me one of his letters to herself as an autograph. She says at +times he was a little crazy--"_fou_," as she expressed it--but that +there never was a nobler or a better man. Lord Byron, she says, loved +him like a brother. She is still in correspondence with Shelley's +wife, of whom also she speaks with the greatest affection. There were +several miniatures of Byron hanging up in the room, and I asked her if +any of them were perfect in the resemblance. "No," she said, "this was +the most like him," taking down an exquisitely-finished miniature by +an Italian artist, "_mais il etait beaucoup plus beau--beaucoup! +beaucoup!_" She reiterated the word with a very touching tenderness, +and continued to look at the picture for some time, either forgetting +our presence, or affecting it. She speaks English sweetly, with a +soft, slow, honeyed accent, breaking into French when ever she gets +too much interested to choose her words. She went on talking in French +of the painters who had drawn Byron, and said the American, West's was +the best likeness. I did not like to tell her that West's picture of +herself was excessively flattered. I am sure no one would know her +from the engraving of it, at least. Her cheek bones are high, her +forehead is badly shaped, and, altogether, the _frame_ of her features +is decidedly ugly. She dresses in the worst taste, too, and yet, with +all this, and poetry and celebrity aside, the Countess Guiccioli is +both a lovely and a fascinating woman, and one whom a man of sentiment +would admire, even at this age, very sincerely, but not for beauty. +She has white and regular teeth, however, and her hair is incomparably +the most beautiful I ever saw. It is of the richest and glossiest +gold, silken and luxuriant, and changes, as the light falls upon it, +with a mellow softness, than which nothing could be lovelier. It is +this and her indescribably winning manner which are lost in a picture, +and therefore, it is perhaps fair that she should be otherwise +flattered. Her drawing-room is one of the most agreeable in Paris at +present, and is one of the chief _agremens_ which console me for a +detention in an atmosphere so triste as well as dangerous. + + * * * * * + +My bed-room window opens upon the court in the interior of the hotel +Rivoli, in which I lodge. In looking out occasionally upon my very +near neighbors opposite, I have frequently observed a gray-headed, +scholar-like, fine-looking old man, writing at a window in the story +below. One does not trouble himself much about his fellow-lodgers, and +I had seen this gentleman at his work at all hours, for a month or +more, without curiosity enough to inquire even his name. This morning +the servant came in, with a _Mon Dieu!_ and said _M. Sismondi_ was +frightened by the cholera, and was leaving his lodgings at that +moment. The name startled me, and making some inquiries, I found that +my gray-headed neighbor was no other than the celebrated historian of +Italian literature, and that I had been living under the same roof +with him for weeks, and watching him at his classical labors, without +being at all aware of the honor of his neighborhood. He is a kind, +benevolent-looking man, of about sixty, I should think; and always had +a peculiarly affectionate manner to his wife, who, I am told by the +valet, is an Englishwoman. I regretted exceedingly the opportunity I +had lost of knowing him, for there are few writers of whom one retains +a more friendly and agreeable remembrance. + +In a conversation with Mr. Cooper, the other day he was remarking of +how little consequence any one individual found himself in Paris, +even the most distinguished. We were walking in the Tuileries, and the +remark was elicited by my pointing out to him one or two celebrated +persons, whose names are sufficiently known, but who walk the public +promenades, quite unnoticed and unrecognised. He said he did not think +there were five people in Paris who knew him at sight, though his +works were advertised in all the bookstores, and he had lived in Paris +one or two years, and walked there constantly. This was putting a +strong case, for the French idolize Cooper; and the peculiarly +translateable character of his works makes them read even better in a +good translation than in the original. It is so all over the +continent, I am told. The Germans, Italians, and Spaniards, prefer +Cooper to Scott; and it is easily accounted for when one remembers how +much of the beauty of the Waverly novels depends on their exquisite +style, and how peculiarly Cooper's excellence lies in his accurate, +definite, tangible descriptions. There is not a more admired author in +Europe than Cooper, it is very certain; and I am daily asked whether +he is in America at present--so little do the people of these crowded +cities interest themselves about that which is immediately at their +elbows. + + + + +LETTER XX. + + GENERAL BERTRAND--FRIEND OF LADY MORGAN--PHRENOLOGY--DR. + SPURZHEIM--HIS LODGINGS--PROCESS OF TAKING A CAST OF THE + HEAD--INCARCERATION OF DR. BOWRING AND DE POTTER--DAVID THE + SCULPTOR--VISIT OF DR. SPURZHEIM TO THE UNITED STATES. + + +My room-mate called a day or two since on General Bertrand, and +yesterday he returned the visit, and spent an hour at our lodgings. He +talked of Napoleon with difficulty, and became very much affected when +my friend made some inquiries about the safety of the body at St. +Helena. The inquiry was suggested by some notice we had seen in the +papers of an attempt to rob the tomb of Washington. The General said +that the vault was fifteen feet deep, and covered by a slab that could +not be moved without machinery. He told us that Madame Bertrand had +many mementoes of the Emperor, which she would be happy to show us, +and we promised to visit him. + +At a party, a night or two since, I fell into conversation with an +English lady, who had lived several years in Dublin, and was an +intimate friend of Lady Morgan. She was an uncommonly fine woman, both +in appearance and conversational powers, and told me many anecdotes of +the authoress, defending her from all the charges usually made against +her, except that of vanity, which she allowed. I received, on the +whole, the impression that Lady Morgan's goodness of heart was more +than an offset to her certainly very innocent weaknesses. My companion +was much amused at an American's asking after the "fender in Kildare +street;" though she half withdrew her cordiality when I told her I +knew the countryman of mine who wrote the account of Lady Morgan, of +which she complains so bitterly in the "Book of the Boudoir." It was +this lady with whom the fair authoress "dined in the _Chaussee +d'Antin_," so much to her satisfaction. + +While we were conversing, the lady's husband came up, and finding that +I was an American, made some inquiries about the progress of +_phrenology_ on the other side of the water. Like most enthusiasts in +the science, his own head was a remarkably beautiful one; and I soon +found that he was the bosom friend of Dr. Spurzheim, to whom he +offered to introduce me. We made an engagement for the next day, and +the party separated. + +My new acquaintance called on me the next morning, according to +appointment, and we went together to Dr. Spurzheim's residence. The +passage at the entrance was lined with cases, in which stood plaster +casts of the heads of distinguished men, orators, poets, +musicians--each class on its particular shelf--making altogether a +most ghastly company. The doctor received my companion with great +cordiality, addressing him in French, and changing to very good +German-English when he made any observation to me. He is a tall, +large-boned man, and resembles Harding, the American artist, very +strikingly. His head is finely marked; his features are bold, with +rather a German look; and his voice is particularly winning, and +changes its modulations, in argument, from the deep, earnest tone of a +man, to an almost child-like softness. The conversation soon turned +upon America, and the doctor expressed, in ardent terms, his desire to +visit the United States, and said he had thought of accomplishing it +the coming summer. He spoke of Dr. Channing--said he had read all his +works with avidity and delight, and considered him one of the clearest +and most expansive minds of the age. If Dr. Channing had not strong +developments of the organs of _ideality_ and _benevolence_, he said, +he should doubt his theory more than he had ever found reason to. He +knew Webster and Professor Silliman by reputation, and seemed to be +familiar with our country, as few men in Europe are. One naturally, on +meeting a distinguished phrenologist, wishes to have his own +developments pronounced upon; but I had been warned by my friend that +Dr. Spurzheim refused such examinations as a general principle, not +wishing to deceive people, and unwilling to run the risk of offending +them. After a half hour's conversation, however, he came across the +room, and putting his hands under my thick masses of hair, felt my +head closely all over, and mentioned at once a quality, which, right +or wrong, has given a tendency to all my pursuits in life. As he knew +absolutely nothing of me, and the gentleman who introduced me knew no +more, I was a little startled. The doctor then requested me to submit +to the operation of having a cast taken of my head, an offer which was +too kind and particular to be declined; and, appointing an hour to be +at his rooms the following day, we left him. + +I was there again at twelve, the morning after, and found De Potter +(the Belgian patriot) and Dr. Bowring, with the phrenologist, waiting +to undergo the same operation. The preparations looked very +formidable, A frame, of the length of the human body, lay in the +middle of the room, with a wooden bowl to receive the head, a +mattress, and a long white dress to prevent stain to the clothes. As I +was the youngest, I took my turn first. It was very like a preparation +for being beheaded. My neck was bared, my hair cut, and the long white +dress put on. The back of the head is taken first; and, as I was only +immersed up to the ears in the liquid plaster, this was not very +alarming. The second part, however, demanded more patience. My head +was put once more into the stiffened mould of the first half, and as +soon as I could get my features composed I was ordered to shut my +eyes; my hair was oiled and laid smooth, and the liquid plaster poured +slowly over my mouth, eyes, and forehead, till I was cased completely +in a stiffening mask. The material was then poured on thickly, till +the mask was two or three inches thick, and the voices of those +standing over me were scarcely audible. I breathed pretty freely +through the orifices at my nose; but the dangerous experiment of +Mademoiselle Sontag, who was nearly smothered in the same operation, +came across my mind rather vividly; and it seemed to me that the +doctor handled the plaster quite too ungingerly, when he came to mould +about my nostrils. After a half hour's imprisonment, the plaster +became sufficiently hardened, and the thread which was laid upon my +face was drawn through, dividing the mask into two parts. It was then +gradually removed, pulling very tenaciously upon my eyelashes and +eyebrows, and leaving all the cavities of my face filled with +particles of lime. The process is a tribute to vanity, which one would +not be willing to pay very often. + +I looked on at Dr. Bowring's incarceration with no great feeling of +relief. It is rather worse to see than to experience, I think. The +poet is a nervous man; and as long as the muscles of his face were +visible, his lips, eyelids, and mouth, were quivering so violently +that I scarcely believed it would be possible to get an impression of +them. He has a beautiful face for a scholar--clear, well-cut, finished +features, expressive of great purity of thought; and a forehead of +noble amplitude, white and polished as marble. His hair is black and +curling (indicating in most cases, as Dr. Spurzheim remarked, activity +of mind), and forms a classical relief to his handsome temples. +Altogether, his head would look well in a picture, though his ordinary +and ungraceful dress, and quick, bustling manner, rather destroy the +effect of it in society. + +De Potter is one of the noblest-looking men I ever saw. He is quite +bald, with a broad, ample, majestic head, the very model of dignity +and intellect. Dr. Spurzheim considers his head one of the most +extraordinary he has met. _Firmness_ is the great development of its +organs. His tone and manner are calm and very impressive, and he looks +made for great occasions--a man stamped with the superiority which +others acknowledge when circumstances demand it. He employs himself in +literary pursuits at Paris, and has just published a pamphlet on "the +manner of conducting a revolution, so that no after-revolution shall +be necessary." I have translated the title awkwardly, but that is the +subject. + +I have since heard Dr. Spurzheim lecture twice, and have been with him +to a meeting of the "Anthropological Society" (of which he is the +president and De Potter the secretary), where I witnessed the +dissection of the human brain. It was a most interesting and +satisfactory experiment, as an illustration of phrenology. David the +sculptor is a member of the society, and was present. He looks more +like a soldier than an artist, however--wearing the cross of the +Legion of Honor, with a military frock coat, and an erect, stern, +military carriage. Spurzheim lectures in a free, easy, unconstrained +style, with occasionally a little humor, and draws his arguments from +admitted facts only. Nothing could be more reasonable than his +premises, and nothing more like an axiom than the results, as far as I +have heard him. At any rate, true or false, his theory is one of +extreme interest, and no time can be wasted in examining it; for it is +the study of man, and therefore the most important of studies. + +I have had several long conversations with Dr. Spurzheim about +America, and have at last obtained his positive assurance that he +would visit it. He gave me permission this morning to say (what I am +sure all lovers of knowledge will be pleased to hear) that he should +sail for New York in the course of the ensuing summer, and pass a year +or more in lecturing and travelling in the United States. He is a man +to obtain the immediate confidence and respect of a people like ours, +of the highest moral worth, and the most candid and open mind. + + + + +LETTER XXI. + + DEPARTURE FROM PARIS--DESULTORY REMARKS. + + +I take my departure from Paris to-morrow. I have just been making +preparations to pack, and it has given me a fit of bad spirits. I have +been in France only a few months, but if I had lived my life here, I +could not be more at home. In my almost universal acquaintance, I have +of course made pleasant friends, and, however time and travel should +make us indifferent to such volant attachments, I can not now cast off +these threads of intimacy, without pulling a little upon very sincere +feelings. I have been burning the mass of papers and cards that have +accumulated in my drawers; and the sight of these French invitations, +mementoes, as they are, of delightful and fascinating hours, almost +staggers my resolution of departure. It has been an intoxicating time +to me. Aside from lighter attractions, this metropolis collects within +itself so much of the distinction and genius of the world; and gifted +men in Paris, coming here merely for pleasure, are so peculiarly +accessible, that one looks upon them as friends to whom he has become +attached and accustomed, and leaves the sphere in which he has met +them, as if he had been a part of it, and had a right to be regretted. +I do not think I shall ever spend so pleasant a winter again. And then +my local interest is not a light one. I am a great lover of +out-of-doors, and I have ransacked Paris thoroughly. I know it all +from its broad faubourgs to its obscurest _cul de sac_. I have hunted +with antiquaries for coins and old armor; with lovers of adventure for +the amusing and odd; with the curious for traces of history; with the +romantic for the picturesque. Paris is a world for research. It +contains more odd places, I believe, more odd people, and every way +more material for uncommon amusement, than any other city in the +universe. One might live a life of novelty without crossing the +barrier. All this insensibly attaches one. My eye wanders at this +moment from my paper to these lovely gardens lying beneath my window, +and I could not feel more regret if they were mine. Just over the long +line of low clipped trees, edging the fashionable terrace, I see the +windows of the king within half a stone's throw--the windows at which +Napoleon has stood, and the long line of the monarchs of France, and +it has become to me so much a habit of thought, sitting here in the +twilight and musing on the thousand, thousand things linked with the +spot my eye embraces, that I feel as if I had grown to it--as if Paris +had become to me, what it is proverbially and naturally enough to a +Frenchman--"the world." + +I have other associations which I part from less painfully, because I +hope at some future time to renew them--those with my own countrymen. +There are few pleasanter circles than that of the Americans in Paris. +Lafayette and his numerous family make a part of them. I could not +learn to love this good man more, but seeing him often brings one's +reverence more within the limits of the affections; and I consider +the little of his attention that has fallen to my share the honored +part of my life, and the part best worth recording and remembering. He +called upon me a day or two ago, to leave with me some copies of a +translation of Mr. Cooper's letter on the finances of our government, +to be sent to my friend Dr. Howe; but, to my regret, I did not see +him. He neglects no American, and is ever busied about some project +connected with their welfare. May God continue to bless him! + +And speaking of Mr. Cooper, no one who loves or owns a pride in his +native land, can live abroad without feeling every day what we owe to +the patriotism as well as the genius of this gifted man. If there is +an individual who loves the soil that gave him birth, and so shows it +that we are more respected for it, it is he. Mr. Cooper's position is +a high one; he has great advantages, and he improves them to the +uttermost. His benevolence and activity in all enterprises for the +relief of suffering, give him influence, and he employs it like a true +philanthropist and a real lover of his country. I say this +particularly, though it may look like too personal a remark, because +Americans abroad are _not_ always _national_. I am often mortified by +reproaches from foreigners, quoting admissions made by my countrymen, +which should be the last on their lips. A very distinguished person +told me a day or two since, that "the Americans abroad were the worst +enemies we had in Europe." It is difficult to conceive at home how +such a remark stings. Proportionately, one takes a true patriot to his +heart and I feel it right to say here, that the love of country and +active benevolence of Mr. Cooper distinguish him abroad, even more +than his genius. His house is one of the most hospitable and agreeable +in Paris; and with Morse and the circle of artists and men of +distinction and worth about him, he is an acquaintance sincerely to +regret leaving. + +From Mr. Rives, our Minister, I have received every possible kindness. +He has attached me to his legation, to facilitate my access to other +courts and the society of other cities, and to free me from all delays +and annoyances at frontiers and custom-houses. It is a particular and +valuable kindness, and I feel a pleasure in acknowledging it. Then +there is Dr. Bowring, the lover and defender of the United States, +who, as the editor of the Westminster Review, should be well +remembered in America, and of him I have seen much, and from him I +have received great kindness. Altogether, as I said before, Paris is a +home to me, and I leave it with a heavy heart. + +I have taken a place on the top of the diligence _for a week_. It is a +long while to occupy one seat, but the weather and the season are +delicious; and in the covered and roomy cabriolet, with the +_conducteur_ for a living reference, and all the appliances for +comfort, I expect to live very pleasantly, night and day, till I reach +Marseilles. _Vaucluse_ is on the way, and I shall visit it if I have +time and good weather, perhaps. At Marseilles I propose to take the +steamboat for Leghorn, and thence get directly to Florence, where I +shall remain till I become familiar with the Italian, at least. I lay +down my pen till all this plan of travel is accomplished, and so, for +the present, adieu! + + + + +LETTER XXII. + + +CHALONS, ON THE SAONE.--I have broken my route to stop at this pretty +town, and take the steamboat which goes down the Saone to Lyons +to-morrow morning. I have travelled two days and nights; but an +excellent dinner and a quickened imagination indispose me for sleep, +and, for want of better amusement in a strange city at night, I will +pass away an hour in transcribing the hurried notes I have made at the +stopping places. + +I chose, by advice, the part of the diligence called the +_banquette_--a covered seat over the front of the carriage, commanding +all the view, and free from the dust of the lower apartments. The +_conducteur_ had the opposite corner, and a very ordinary-looking man +sat between us; the seat holding three very comfortably. A lady and +two gentlemen occupied the _coupe_; a dragoon and his family, going to +join his regiment, filled the _rotonde_; and in the interior was a +motley collection, whom I scarce saw after starting; the occupants of +the different parts of a diligence having no more association, even in +a week's travel, than people living in adjoining houses in the city. + +We rolled out of Paris by the _faubourg St. Antoine_, and at the end +of the first post passed the first object that interested me--a small +brick pavilion, built by Henri Quatre for the beautiful Gabrielle +d'Estrees. It stands on a dull, level plain, not far from the banks of +the river; and nothing but the fact that it was once occupied by the +woman who most enslaved the heart of the most chivalrous and fickle of +the French monarchs, would call your attention to it for a moment. + +For the twenty or thirty miles which we travelled by daylight, I saw +nothing particularly curious or beautiful. The guide-book is very +diffuse upon the chateaux and villages on the road, but I saw nothing +except very ordinary country-houses, and the same succession of small +and dirty villages, steeped to the very chimneys in poverty. If ever I +return to America, I shall make a journey to the west, for the pure +refreshment of seeing industry and thrift. I am sick to the heart of +pauperism and misery. Everything that is near the large towns in +France is either splendid or disgusting. There is no medium in +condition--nothing that looks like content--none of that class we +define in our country as the "respectable." + +The moon was a little in the wane, but bright, and the night lovely. +As we got further into the interior, the towns began to look more +picturesque and antique; and, with the softening touch of the +moonlight, and the absence of beggars, the old low-browed buildings +and half-ruined churches assumed the beauty they wear in description. +I slept on the road, but the echo of the wheels in entering a +post-town woke me always; and I rarely have felt the picturesque more +keenly than, at these sudden wakings from dreams, perhaps, of familiar +things, finding myself opposite some shadowy relic of another age; as +if it were by magical transportation, from the fireside to some place +of which I had heard or read the history. + +I awoke as we drove into _Sens_ at broad daylight. We were just +passing a glorious old pile of a cathedral, which I ran back to see +while the diligence stopped to change horses. It is of pointed +architecture, black with age, and crusted with moss. It was to this +town that Thomas a Becket retired in disgrace at his difference with +Henry the Second. There is a chapel in the cathedral, dedicated to his +memory. The French certainly should have the credit of leaving things +alone. This old pile stands as if the town in which it is built had +been desolate for centuries: not a letter of the old sculptures +chiselled out, not a bird unnested, not a filament of the gathering +moss pulled away. All looks as if no human hand had been near +it--almost as if no human eye had looked upon it. In America they +would paint such an old church white or red, shove down the pillars, +and put up pews, sell the pictures for fireboards, and cover the +tesselated pavement with sand, or a home-made carpet. + +As we passed under a very ancient gate, crowning the old Roman +ramparts of the town, a door opened, and a baker, in white cap and +apron, thrust out his head to see us pass. His oven was blazing +bright, and he had just taken out a batch of hot bread, which was +smoking on the table; and what with the chill of the morning air and +having fasted for some fourteen hours, I quite envied him his +vocation. The diligence, however, pushed on most mercilessly till +twelve o'clock, the French never dreaming of eating before their late +_dejeuner_--a mid-day meal always. When we did get it, it was a dinner +in every respect--meats of all kinds, wine, and dessert, certainly as +solid and various as any of the American breakfasts, at which +travellers laugh so universally. + +Auxerre is a pretty town, on a swelling bank of the river Yonne; and I +had admired it as one of the most improved-looking villages of France. +It was not till I had breakfasted there, and travelled a league or two +towards Chalons, that I discovered by the guide book it was the +ancient capital of Auxerrois, a famous town in the time of Julius +Caesar, and had the honor of being ravaged "at different times by +Attila, the Saracens, the Normans, and the Calvinists, vestiges of +whose devastations may still be seen." If I had not eaten of a +positively modern _pate foie gras_, and an _omelette souffle_, at a +nice little hotel, with a mistress in a cap, and a coquettish French +apron, I should forgive myself less easily for not having detected +antiquity in the atmosphere. One imagines more readily than he +realizes the charm of mere age without beauty. + +We were now in the province of Burgundy, and, to say nothing of the +historical recollections, the vineyards were all about us that +delighted the palates of the world. One does not dine at the _Trois +Freres_, in the Palais Royal, without contracting a tenderness for the +very name of Burgundy. I regretted that I was not there in the season +of the grape. The vines were just budding, and the _paysans_, men and +women, were scattered over the vineyards, loosening the earth about +the roots, and driving stakes to support the young shoots. At Saint +Bris I found the country so lovely, that I left the diligence at the +post-house, and walked on to mount a long succession of hills on foot. +The road sides were quite blue with the violets growing thickly among +the grass, and the air was filled with perfume. I soon got out of +sight of the heavy vehicle, and made use of my leisure to enter the +vineyards and talk to the people at their work. I found one old man, +with all his family about him; the little ones with long baskets on +their backs, bringing manure, and one or two grown-up boys and girls +raking up the earth with the unhandy hoe of the country, and setting +it firmly around the roots with their wooden shoes. It was a pretty +group, and I was very much amused with their simplicity. The old man +asked my country, and set down his hoe in astonishment when I told him +I was an American. He wondered I was not more burnt, living in such a +hot country, and asked me what language we spoke. I could scarce get +away from his civilities when I bade him "Good day." No politeness +could have been more elegant than the manner and expression of this +old peasant, and certainly nothing could have appeared sincerer or +kinder. I kept on up the hill till I reached a very high point, +passing on my way a troop of Italians, going to Paris with their +organs and shows--a set of as ragged specimens of the picturesque as I +ever saw in a picture. A lovely scene lay before me when I turned to +look back. The valley, on one side of which lies St. Bris, is as round +as a bowl, with an edge of mountain-tops absolutely even all around +the horizon. It slopes down from every side to the centre, as if it +had been measured and hollowed by art; and there is not a fence to be +seen from one side to the other, and scarcely a tree, but one green +and almost unbroken carpet of verdure, swelling up in broad green +slopes to the top, and realizing, with a slight difference, the +similitude of Madame de Genlis, of the place of satiety, eternal green +meadow and eternal blue sky. St. Bris is a little handful of stone +buildings around an old church; just such a thing as a painter would +throw into a picture--and the different-colored grain, and here and +there a ploughed patch of rich yellow earth, and the road crossing +the hollow from hill to hill like a white band; and then for the life +of the scene, the group of Italians, the cumbrous diligence, and the +peasants in their broad straw hats, scattered over the fields--it was +something quite beyond my usual experience of scenery and accident. I +had rarely before found so much in one view to delight me. + +After looking a while, I mounted again, and stood on the very top of +the hill; and, to my surprise, there, on the other side lay just such +another valley, with just such a village in its bosom, and the single +improvement of a river--the Yonne stealing through it, with its +riband-like stream; but all the rest of the valley almost exactly as I +have described the other. I crossed a vineyard to get a view to the +southeast, and _once more_ there lay a deep hollow valley before me, +formed like the other two, with its little hamlet and its vineyards +and mountains--as if there had been three lakes in the hills, with +their edges touching like three bowls, and the terrace on which I +stood was the platform between them. It is a most singular formation +of country, really, and as beautiful as it is singular. Each of these +valleys might be ten miles across; and if the dukes of Burgundy in +feudal times rode ever to St. Bris, I can conceive that their dukedom +never seemed larger to them than when crossing this triple apex of +highland. + +At Saulieu we left the usual route, and crossed over to Chagny. +Between these two places lay a spot, which, out of my own country, I +should choose before all others for a retreat from the world. As it +was off the route, the guide-book gave me not even the name, and I +have discovered nothing but that the little hamlet is called +_Rochepot_. It is a little nest of wild scenery, a mimic valley shut +in by high overhanging crags, with the ruins of a battlemented and +noble old castle, standing upon a rock in the centre, with the village +of some hundred stone cottages at its very foot. You might stand on +the towers of the ruins, and toss a biscuit into almost every chimney +in the village. The strong round towers are still perfect, and the +turrets and loop-holes and windows are still there; and rank green +vines have overrun the whole mass everywhere; and nothing but the +prodigious solidity with which it was built could have kept it so long +from falling, for it is evidently one of the oldest castles in +Burgundy. I never before saw anything, even in a picture, which +realized perfectly my idea of feudal position. Here lived the lord of +the domain, a hundred feet in the air in his rocky castle, right over +the heads of his retainers, with the power to call in every soul that +served him at a minute's warning, and with a single blast of his +trumpet. I do not believe a stone has been displaced in the village +for a hundred years. The whole thing was redolent of antiquity. We +wound out of the place by a sharp narrow pass, and there, within a +mile of this old and deserted fortress, lay the broad plains of Beaune +and Chagny--one of the most fertile and luxurious parts of France. I +was charmed altogether. How many things I have seen this side the +water that I have made an involuntary vow in my heart to visit again, +and at more leisure, before I die! + +From Chagny it was but one post to Chalons, and here I am in a pretty, +busy town, with broad beautiful quays, where I have promenaded till +dark, observing this out-of-doors people; and now, having written a +long letter for a sleepy man, I will get to bed, and redeem some +portion of my two nights' wakefulness. + + + + +LETTER XXIII. + + PASSAGE DOWN THE SAONE--AN ODD ACQUAINTANCE--LYONS--CHURCH OF + NOTRE DAME DE FOURVIERES--VIEW FROM THE TOWER. + + +I looked out of my window the last thing before going to bed at +Chalons, and the familiar constellation of _Ursa Major_ never shone +brighter, and never made me a more agreeable promise than that of fair +weather the following day for my passage down the Saone. I was called +at four, and it rained in torrents. The steamboat was smaller than the +smallest I have seen in our country, and crowded to suffocation with +children, women, and lap-dogs. I appropriated my own trunk, and +spreading my umbrella, sat down upon it, to endure my disappointment +with what philosophy I might. A dirty-looking fellow, who must have +slept in his clothes for a month, came up, with a loaf of coarse bread +under his arm, and addressed me, to my sufficient astonishment, _in +Latin_! He wanted to sit under my umbrella. I looked at him a second +time, but he had touched my passion. Latin is the only thing I have +been driven to, in this world, that I ever really loved; and the +clear, mellow, unctuous pronunciation of my dirty companion equally +astonished and pleased me. I made room for him on my trunk, and, +though rusted somewhat since I philosophized over Lucretius, we got on +very tolerably. He was a German student, travelling to Italy, and a +fine specimen of the class. A dirtier man I never saw, and hardly a +finer or more intellectual face. He knew everything, and served me as +a talking guide to the history of all the places on the river. + +Instead of eating all at once, as we do on board the steamboats in +America, the French boats have a _restaurant_, from which you order +what you please, and at any hour. The cabin was set round with small +tables, and the passengers made little parties, and breakfasted and +dined at their own time. It is much the better method. I descended to +the cabin very hungry about twelve o'clock, and was looking about for +a place, when a French gentleman politely rose, and observing that I +was alone, (my German friend living on bread and water only,) +requested me to join his party at breakfast. Two young ladies and a +lad of fourteen sat at the table, and addressing them by their +familiar names, my polite friend requested them to give me a place; +and then told me that they were his daughters and son, and that he was +travelling to Italy for the health of the younger girl, a pale, +slender creature, apparently about eighteen. I was very well pleased +with my position, and rarely have passed an hour more agreeably. +French girls of the better classes never talk, but the father was very +communicative, and a Parisian, with the cross of the Legion of Honor, +and we found abundance of matter for conversation. They have stopped +at Lyons, where I write at present, and I shall probably join their +party to Marseilles. + +The clouds broke away after mid-day, and the banks of the river +brightened wonderfully with the change. The Saone is about the size +of the Mohawk, but not half so beautiful; at least for the greater +part of its course. Indeed, you can hardly compare American with +European rivers, for the charm is of another description, quite. With +us it is nature only, here it is almost all art. Our rivers are +lovely, because the outline of the shore is graceful, and particularly +because the vegetation is luxuriant. The hills are green, the foliage +deep and lavish, the rocks grown over with vines or moss, the +mountains in the distance covered with pines and other forest-trees; +everything is wild, and nothing looks bare or sterile. The rivers of +France are crowned on every height with ruins, and in the bosom of +every valley lies a cluster of picturesque stone cottages; but the +fields are naked, and there are no trees; the mountains are barren and +brown, and everything looks as if the dwellings had been deserted by +the people, and nature had at the same time gone to decay. I can +conceive nothing more melancholy than the views upon the Saone, seen, +as I saw them, though vegetation is out everywhere, and the banks +should be beautiful if ever. As we approached Lyons the river narrowed +and grew bolder, and the last ten miles were enchanting. Naturally the +shores at this part of the Saone are exceedingly like the highlands of +the Hudson above West Point. Abrupt hills rise from the river's edge, +and the windings are sharp and constant. But imagine the highlands of +the Hudson crowned with antique chateaux, and covered to the very top +with terraces and summer-houses and hanging-gardens, gravel walks and +beds of flowers, instead of wild pines and precipices, and you may get +a very correct idea of the Saone above Lyons. You emerge from one of +the dark passes of the river by a sudden turn, and there before you +lies this large city, built on both banks, at the foot and on the +sides of mountains. The bridges are fine, and the broad, crowded +quays, all along the edges of the river, have a beautiful effect. We +landed at the stone stairs, and I selected a hotel by chance, where I +have found seven Americans of my acquaintance. We have been spending +the evening at the rooms of a townsman of mine, very pleasantly. + + * * * * * + +There is a great deal of magnificence at Lyons, in the way of quays, +promenades, and buildings; but its excessive filthiness spoils +everything. One could scarce admire a Venus in such an atmosphere; and +you cannot find room to stand in Lyons where you have not some +nauseating odor. I was glad to escape from the lower streets, and +climb up the long staircases to the observatory that overhangs the +town. From the base of this elevation the descent of the river is +almost a precipice. The houses hang on the side of the steep hill, and +their doors enter from the long alleys of stone staircases by which +you ascend. On every step, and at almost every foot of the way, stood +a beggar. They might have touched hands from the quay to the summit. +If they were not such objects of real wretchedness, it would be +laughable to hear the church calendar of saints repeated so volubly. +The lame hobble after you, the blind stumble in your way, the sick lie +and stretch out their hands from the wall, and all begin in the name +of the Virgin Mary, and end with "_Mon bon Monsieur_," and "_un petit +sous_." I confined my charities to a lovely child, that started out +from its mother's lap, and ran down to meet us--a dirty and ragged +little thing, but with the large dark eyes of the province; and a +skin, where one could see it, of the clearest nut-brown teint. Her +mother had five such, and each of them, to any one who loved +children, would have been a treasure of beauty and interest. + +It was holy-week, and the church of _Notre Dame de Fourvieres_, which +stands on the summit of the hill, was crowded with people. We went in +for a moment, and sat down on a bench to rest. My companion was a +Swiss captain of artillery, who was a passenger in the boat, a very +splendid fellow, with a mustache that he might have tied behind his +ears. He had addressed me at the hotel, and proposed that we should +visit the curiosities of the town together. He was a model of a manly +figure, athletic, and soldier-like, and standing near him was to get +the focus of all the dark eyes in the congregation. + +The new square tower stands at the side of the church, and rises to +the height of perhaps sixty feet. The view from it is said to be one +of the finest in the world. I have seen more extensive ones, but never +one that comprehended more beauty and interest. Lyons lies at the +foot, with the Saone winding through its bosom in abrupt curves; the +Rhone comes down from the north on the other side of the range of +mountains, and meeting the Saone in a broad stream below the town, +they stretch off to the south, through a diversified landscape; the +Alps rise from the east like the edges of a thunder-cloud, and the +mountains of Savoy fill up the interval to the Rhone. All about the +foot of the monument lie gardens, of exquisite cultivation; and above +and below the city the villas of the rich; giving you altogether as +delicious a nucleus for a broad circle of scenery as art and nature +could create, and one sufficiently in contrast with the barrenness of +the rocky circumference to enhance the charm, and content you with +your position. Half way down the hill lies an old monastery, with a +lovely garden walled in from the world; and several of the +brotherhood were there, idling up and down the shaded alleys, with +their black dresses sweeping the ground, possibly in holy +contemplation. The river was covered with boats, the bells were +ringing to church, the glorious old cathedral, so famous for its +splendor, stood piled up, with its arches and gray towers, in the +square below; the day was soft, sunny, and warm, and existence was a +blessing. I leaned over the balustrade, I know not how long, looking +down upon the scene about me; and I shall ever remember it as one of +those few unalloyed moments, when the press of care was taken off my +mind, and the chain of circumstances was strong enough to set aside +both the past and the future, and leave me to the quiet enjoyment of +the present. I have found such hours "few and far between." + + + + +LETTER XXIV. + + DEPARTURE FROM LYONS--BATTEAUX DE POSTE--RIVER + SCENERY--VILLAGE OF CONDRIEU--VIENNE--VALENCE--POINT ST. + ESPRIT--DAUPHINY AND LANGUEDOC--DEMI-FETE DAY, ETC. + + +I found a day and a half quite enough for Lyons. The views from the +mountain and the river were the only things that pleased me. I made +the usual dry visit to the library and the museum, and admired the +Hotel de Ville, and the new theatre, and the front of the _Maison de +Tolosan_, that so struck the fancy of Joseph II., and having +"despatched the lions," like a true cockney traveller, I was too happy +to escape the offensive smells of the streets, and get to my rooms. +One does not enjoy much comfort within doors either. Lyons is a great +imitation metropolis--a sort of second-hand Paris. I am not very +difficult to please, but I found the living intolerable. It was an +affectation of abstruse cookery throughout. We sat down to what is +called the best table in the place, and it was a series of ludicrous +travesties, from the soup to the salad. One can eat well in the +country, because the dishes are simple, and he gets the natural taste +of things; but to come to a table covered with artificial dishes, +which he has been accustomed to see in their perfection, and to taste +and send away everything in disgust, is a trial of temper which is +reserved for the traveller at Lyons. + +The scenery on the river, from Lyons to Avignon, has great celebrity, +and I had determined to take that course to the south. Just at this +moment, however, the Rhone had been pronounced too low, and the +steamboats were stopped. I probably made the last passage by steam on +the Saone, for we ran aground repeatedly, and were compelled to wait +till horses could be procured to draw the boat into deep water. It was +quite amusing to see with what a regular, business-like air, the +postillions fixed their traces to the prow, and whipped into the +middle of the river. A small boat was my only resource, and I found a +man on the quay who plied the river in what is called _batteaux de +poste_, rough shallops with flat bottoms, which are sold for firewood +on their arrival, the rapidity of the Rhone rendering a return against +the current next to impossible. The sight of the frail contrivance in +which I was to travel nearly two hundred miles, rather startled me, +but the man assured me he had several other passengers, and two ladies +among them. I paid the _arrhes_, or earnest money, and was at the +river-stairs punctually at four the next morning. + +To my very sincere pleasure the two ladies were the daughters of my +polite friend and fellow passenger from Chalons. They were already on +board, and the little shallop sat deep in the water with her freight. +Besides these, there were two young French chasseurs going home on +leave of absence, a pretty Parisian dress-maker flying from the +cholera, a masculine woman, the wife of a dragoon, and my friend the +captain. We pushed out into the current, and drifted slowly down under +the bridges, without oars the padrone quietly smoking his pipe at the +helm. In a few minutes we were below the town, and here commenced +again the cultivated and ornamented banks I had so much admired on my +approach to Lyons from the other side. The thin haze was just stirring +from the river's surface, the sunrise flush was on the sky, the air +was genial and impregnated with the smell of grass and flowers, and +the little changing landscapes, as we followed the stream, broke upon +us like a series of exquisite dioramas. The atmosphere was like +Doughty's pictures, exactly. I wished a thousand times for that +delightful artist, that he might see how richly the old _chateaux_ and +their picturesque appurtenances filled up the scene. It would have +given a new turn to his pencil. + +We soon arrived at the junction of the rivers, and, as we touched the +rapid current of the Rhone, the little shallop yielded to its sway, +and redoubled its velocity. The sun rose clear, the cultivation grew +less and less, the hills began to look distant and barren, and our +little party became sociable in proportion. We closed around the +invalid, who sat wrapped in a cloak in the stern, leaning on her +father's shoulder, and talked of Paris and its pleasures--a theme of +which the French are never weary. Time passed delightfully. Without +being decidedly pretty, our two Parisiennes were quiet-mannered and +engaging; and the younger one particularly, whose pale face and +deeply-sunken eyes gave her a look of melancholy interest, seemed to +have thought much, and to feel, besides, that her uncertain health +gave her a privilege of overstepping the rigid reserve of an unmarried +girl. She talks freely, and with great delicacy of expression and +manner. + +We ran ashore at the little village of Condrieu to breakfast. We were +assailed on stepping out of the boat by the _demoiselles_ of two or +three rival _auberges_--nice-looking, black-eyed girls, in white +aprons, who seized us by the arm, and pulled each to her own door, +with torrents of unintelligible _patois_. We left it to the captain, +who selected the best-looking leader, and we were soon seated around a +table covered with a lavish breakfast; the butter, cheese, and wine +excellent, at least. A merrier party, I am sure, never astonished the +simple people of Condrieu. The pretty dress-maker was full of +good-humor and politeness, and delighted at the envy with which the +rural belles regarded her knowing Parisian cap; the chasseurs sang the +popular songs of the army, and joked with the maids of the _auberge_; +the captain was inexhaustibly agreeable, and the hour given us by the +padrone was soon gone. We embarked with a thousand adieus from the +pleased people, and altogether it was more like a scene from Wilhelm +Meister, than a passage from real life. + +The wind soon rose free and steady from the north-west, and with a +spread sail we ran past _Vienne_, at ten miles in the hour. This was +the metropolis of my old friends, "the Allobrogues," in Cesar's +Commentaries. I could not help wondering at the feelings with which I +was passing over such classic ground. The little dress-maker was +giving us an account of her fright at the cholera, and every one in +the boat was in agonies of laughter. I looked at the guide-book to +find the name of the place, and the first glance at the word carried +me back to my old school-desk at Andover, and conjured up for a moment +the redolent classic interest with which I read the history of the +land I was now hurrying through. That a laugh with a modern _grisette_ +should engross me entirely, at the moment I was traversing such a +spot, is a possibility the man may realize much more readily than the +school-boy. A new roar of merriment from my companions plucked me back +effectually from Andover to the Rhone, and I thought no more of Gaul +or its great historian. + +We floated on during the day, passing _chateaux_ and ruins constantly; +but finding the country barren and rocky to a dismal degree, I can not +well imagine how the Rhone has acquired its reputation for beauty. It +has been sung by the poets more than any other river in France, and +the various epithets that have been applied to it have become so +common, that you can not mention it without their rising to your lips; +but the Saone and the Seine are incomparably more lovely, and I am +told the valleys of the Loire are the most beautiful part of France. +From its junction with the Saone to the Mediterranean, the Rhone is +one stretch of barrenness. + +We passed a picturesque chateau, built very widely on a rock washed by +the river, called "_La Roche de Glun_," and twilight soon after fell, +closing in our view to all but the river edge. The wind died away, but +the stars were bright and the air mild; and, quite fatigued to +silence, our little party leaned on the sides of the boat, and waited +till the current should float us down to our resting-place for the +night. We reached _Valence_ at ten, and with a merry dinner and supper +in one, which kept us up till after midnight, we got to our coarse but +clean beds, and slept soundly. + +The following forenoon we ran under the _Pont St. Esprit_, an +experiment the guide-book calls very dangerous. The Rhone is rapid and +noisy here, and we shot under the arches of the fine old structure +with great velocity; but the "Rapids of the St. Lawrence" are passed +constantly without apprehension by travellers in America, and those of +the Rhone are a mere millrace in comparison. We breakfasted just +below, at a village where we could scarce understand a syllable, the +_patois_ was so decided, and at sunset we were far down between the +provinces of _Dauphiny_ and _Languedoc_, with the villages growing +thicker and greener, and a high mountain within ten or fifteen miles, +covered with snow nearly to the base. We stopped opposite the old +castle of _Rochemeuse_ to pay the _droit_. It was a _demi-fete_ day, +and the inhabitants of a village back from the river had come out to +the green bank in their holyday costume for a revel. The bank swelled +up from the stream to a pretty wood, and the green sward between was +covered with these gay people, arrested in their amusements by our +arrival. We jumped out for a moment, and I walked up the bank and +endeavored to make the acquaintance of a strikingly handsome woman +about thirty, but the _patois_ was quite too much. After several vain +attempts to understand each other, she laughed and turned on her heel, +and I followed the call of the padrone to the batteau. For five or six +miles below, the river passed through a kind of meadow, and an air +more loaded with fragrance I never breathed. The sun was just down, +and with the mildness of the air, and quiet glide of the boat on the +water, it was quite enchanting. Conversation died away, and I went +forward and lay down in the bow alone, with a fit of desperate musing. +It is as singular as it is certain, that the more one enjoys the +loveliness of a foreign land, the more he feels how absolutely his +heart is at home in his own country. + + + + +LETTER XXV. + + INFLUENCE OF A BOATMAN--THE TOWN OF ARLES--ROMAN RUINS--THE + CATHEDRAL--MARSEILLES--THE PASS OF OLLIOULES--THE + VINEYARDS--TOULON--ANTIBES--LAZARETTO--VILLA FRANCA, ETC. + + +I entered Avignon after a delicious hour on the Rhone, quite in the +mood to do poetical homage to its associations. My dreams of Petrarch +and Vaucluse were interrupted by a scene between my friend the +captain, and a stout boatman, who had brought his baggage from the +batteau. The result was an appeal to the mayor, who took the captain +aside after the matter was argued, and told him in his ear that he +must compromise the matter, for he _dared not give a judgment in his +favor_! The man had demanded _twelve_ francs where the regulations +allowed him but _one_, and palpable as the imposition was, the +magistrate refused to interfere. The captain curled his mustache and +walked the room in a terrible passion, and the boatman, an herculean +fellow, eyed him with a look of assurance which quite astonished me. +After the case was settled, I asked an explanation of the mayor. He +told me frankly, that the fellow belonged to a powerful class of men +of the lowest description, who, having declared first for the present +government, were and would be supported by it in almost any question +where favor could be shown--that all the other classes of inhabitants +were malcontents, and that, between positive strength and royal favor, +the boatmen and their party had become too powerful even for the +ordinary enforcement of the law. + +The following day was so sultry and warm, that I gave up all idea of a +visit to Vaucluse. We spent the morning under the trees which stand +before the door of the _cafe_ in the village square, and at noon we +took the steamboat upon the Rhone for _Arles_. An hour or two brought +us to this ancient town, where we were compelled to wait till the next +day, the larger boat which goes hence by the mouths of the Rhone to +Marseilles, being out of order. + +We left our baggage in the boat, and I walked up with the captain to +see the town. An officer whom we addressed for information on the quay +politely offered to be our guide, and we passed three or four hours +rambling about, with great pleasure. Our first object was the Roman +ruins, for which the town is celebrated. We traversed several streets, +so narrow, that the old time-worn houses on either side seemed to +touch at the top, and in the midst of a desolate and poverty-stricken +neighborhood, we came suddenly upon a noble Roman amphitheatre of +gigantic dimensions, and sufficiently preserved to be a picturesque +ruin. It was built on the terrace of a hill, overlooking the Rhone. +From the towers of the gateway, the view across the river into the +lovely province of Languedoc, is very extensive. The arena is an +excavation of perhaps thirty feet in depth, and the rows of seats, all +built of vast blocks of stone, stretch round it in retreating and +rising platforms to the surface of the hill. The lower story is +surrounded with dens; and the upper terrace is enclosed with a circle +of small apartments, like boxes in a theatre, opening by handsome +arches upon the scene. It is the ruin of a noble structure, and, even +without the help of the imagination, exceedingly impressive. It seems +to be at present turned into a play-ground. The dens and cavities were +full of black-eyed and happy creatures, hiding and hallooing with all +the delightful spirit and gayety of French children. Probably it was +never appropriated to a better use. + +We entered the cathedral in returning. It is an antique, and +considered a very fine one. The twilight was just falling; and the +candles burning upon the altar, had a faint, dull glare, making the +dimness of the air more perceptible. I walked up the long aisle to the +side chapel, without observing that my companions had left me, and, +quite tired with my walk, seated myself against one of the Gothic +pillars, enjoying the quiet of the place, and the momentary relief +from exciting objects. It struck me presently that there was a dead +silence in the church, and, as much to hear the sound of English as +for any better motive, I approached the priest's missal, which lay +open on a stand near me, and commenced translating a familiar psalm +aloud. My voice echoed through the building with a fullness which +startled me, and looking over my shoulder, I saw that a simple, poor +old woman was kneeling in the centre of the church, praying alone. She +had looked up at my interruption of the silence of the place, but her +beads still slipped slowly through her fingers, and, feeling that I +was intruding possibly between a sincere worshipper and her Maker, I +withdrew to the side aisle, and made my way softly out of the +cathedral. + +Arles appears to have modernized less than any town I have seen in +France. The streets and the inhabitants look as if they had not +changed for a century. The dress of the women is very peculiar; the +waist of the gown coming up to a point behind, between the shoulder +blades, and consequently very short in front, and the high cap bound +to the head with broad velvet ribands, suffering nothing but the jet +black curls to escape over the forehead. As a class, they are the +handsomest women I have seen. Nothing could be prettier than the +small-featured lively brunettes we saw sitting on the stone benches at +every door. + +We ran down the next morning, in a few hours to Marseilles. It was a +cloudy, misty day, and I did not enjoy, as I expected, the first view +of the Mediterranean from the mouths of the Rhone. We put quite out +into the swell of the sea, and the passengers were all strewn on the +deck in the various gradations of sickness. My friend the captain, and +myself, had the only constant stomachs on board. I was very happy to +distinguish Marseilles through the mist, and as we approached nearer, +the rocky harbor and the islands of _Chateau d'If_ and _Pomegue_, with +the fortress at the mouth of the harbor, came out gradually from the +mist, and the view opened to a noble amphitheatre of rocky mountains, +in whose bosom lies Marseilles at the edge of the sea. We ran into the +narrow cove which forms the inner harbor, passing an American ship, +the "William Penn," just arrived from Philadelphia, and lying in +quarantine. My blood started at the sight of the starred flag; and as +we passed closer and I read the name upon her stern, a thousand +recollections of that delightful city sprang to my heart, and I leaned +over to her from the boat's side, with a feeling of interest and +pleasure to which the foreign tongue that called me to bid adieu to +newer friends, seemed an unwelcome interruption. + +I parted from my pleasant Parisian friend and his family, however, +with real regret. They were polite and refined, and had given me their +intimacy voluntarily and without reserve. I shook hands with them on +the quay, and wished the pale and quiet invalid better health, with +more of feeling than is common with acquaintances of a day. I believe +them kind and sincere, and I have not found these qualities growing so +thickly in the world that I can thrust aside anything that resembles +them, with a willing mistrust. + +The quay of Marseilles is one of the most varied scenes to be met with +in Europe. Vessels of all nations come trading to its port, and nearly +every costume in the world may be seen in its busy crowds. I was +surprised at the number of Greeks. Their picturesque dresses and dark +fine faces meet you at every step, and it would be difficult, if it +were not for the shrinking eye, to believe them capable of an ignoble +thought. The mould of the race is one for heroes, but if all that is +said of them be true, the blood has become impure. Of the two or three +hundred I must have seen at Marseilles, I scarce remember one whose +countenance would not have been thought remarkable. + + * * * * * + +I have remained six days in Marseilles by the advice of the Sardinian +consul, who assured me that so long a residence in the south of +France, is necessary to escape quarantine for the cholera, at the +ports or on the frontiers of Italy. I have obtained his certificate +to-day, and depart to-morrow for Nice. My forced _sejour_ here has +been far from an amusing or a willing one. The "_mistral_" has blown +chilly and with suffocating dryness, so that I have scarce breathed +freely since I entered the town, and the streets, though handsomely +laid out and built, are intolerable from the dust. The sun scorches +your skin to a blister, and the wind chills your blood to the bone. +There are beautiful public walks, which, at the more moist seasons, +must be delightful, but at present the leaves on the trees are all +white, and you cannot keep your eyes open long enough to see from one +end of the promenade to the other. Within doors, it is true, I have +found everything which could compensate for such evils; and I shall +carry away pleasant recollections of the hospitality of the Messrs. +Fitch, and others of my countrymen, living here--gentlemen whose +courtesies are well-remembered by every American traveller through the +south of France. + + * * * * * + +I sank into the corner of the _coupe_ of the diligence for Toulon, at +nine o'clock in the evening, and awoke with the gray of the dawn at +the entrance of the pass of _Ollioules_, one of the wildest defiles I +ever saw. The gorge is the bed of a winter torrent, and you travel +three miles or more between two mountains seemingly cleft asunder, on +a road cut out a little above the stream, with naked rock to the +height of two or three hundred feet almost perpendicularly above you. +Nothing could be more bare and desolate than the whole pass, and +nothing could be richer or more delightfully cultivated than the low +valleys upon which it opens. It is some four or five miles hence to +Toulon, and we traversed the road by sunrise, the soft, gray light +creeping through the olive and orange trees with which the fields are +laden, and the peasants just coming out to their early labor. You see +no brute animal here except the mule; and every countryman you meet is +accompanied by one of these serviceable little creatures, often quite +hidden from sight by the enormous load he carries, or pacing patiently +along with a master on his back, who is by far the larger of the two. + +The vineyards begin to look delightfully; for the thick black stump +which was visible over the fields I have hitherto passed, is in these +warm valleys covered already with masses of luxuriant vine leaves, and +the hill sides are lovely with the light and tender verdure. I saw +here for the first time, the olive and date trees in perfection. They +grow in vast orchards planted regularly, and the olive resembles +closely the willow, and reaches about the same height and shape. The +leaves are as slender but not quite so long, and the color is more +dusky, like the bloom upon a grape. Indeed, at a short distance, the +whole tree looks like a mass of untouched fruit. + +I was agreeably disappointed in Toulon. It is a rural town with a +harbor--not the dirty seaport one naturally expects to find it. The +streets are the cleanest I have seen in France, some of them lined +with trees, and the fountains all over it freshen the eye +delightfully. We had an hour to spare, and with Mr. Doyle, an Irish +gentleman, who had been my travelling companion, since I parted with +my friend the Swiss, I made the circuit of the quays. They were +covered with French naval officers and soldiers, promenading and +conversing in the lively manner of this gayest of nations. A handsome +child, of perhaps six years, was selling roses at one of the corners, +and for a _sous_, all she demanded, I bought six of the most superb +damask buds just breaking into flower. They were the first I had seen +from the open air since I left America, and I have not often purchased +so much pleasure with a copper coin. + +Toulon was interesting to me as the place where Napoleon's career +began. The fortifications are very imposing. We passed out of the town +over the draw-bridge, and were again in the midst of a lovely +landscape, with an air of bland and exhilarating softness, and +everything that could delight the eye. The road runs along the shore +of the Mediterranean, and the fields are green to the water edge. + +We arrived at Antibes to-day at noon, within fifteen miles of the +frontier of Sardinia. We have run through most of the south of France, +and have found it all like a garden. The thing most like it in our +country is the neighborhood of Boston, particularly the undulated +country about Brookline and Dorchester. Remove all the stone fences +from that sweet country, put here and there an old chateau on an +eminence, and change the pretty white mock cottages of gentlemen, for +the real stone cottages of peasantry, and you have a fair picture of +the scenery of this celebrated shore. The Mediterranean should be +added as a distance, with its exquisite blue, equalled by nothing but +an American sky in a July noon--its crowds of sail, of every shape and +nation, and the Alps in the horizon crested with snow, like clouds +half touched by the sun. It is really a delicious climate. Out of the +scorching sun the air is bracing and cool; and though my ears have +been blistered in walking up the hills in a travelling cap, I have +scarcely experienced an uncomfortable sensation of heat, and this in +my winter dress, with flannels and a surtout, as I have worn them for +the six months past in Paris. The air could not be tempered more +accurately for enjoyment. I regret to go in doors. I regret to sleep +it away. + + * * * * * + +_Antibes_ was fortified by the celebrated _Vauban_, and it looks +impregnable enough to my unscientific eye. If the portcullises were +drawn up, I would not undertake to get into the town with the full +consent of the inhabitants. We walked around the ramparts which are +washed by the Mediterranean, and got an appetite in the sea-breeze, +which we would willingly have dispensed with. I dislike to abuse +people, but I must say that the _cuisine_ of Madame Agarra, at the +"Gold Eagle," is rather the worst I have fallen upon in my travels. +Her price, as is usual in France, was proportionably exorbitant. My +Irish friend, who is one of the most religious gentlemen of his +country I ever met, came as near getting into a passion with his +supper and bill, as was possible for a temper so well disciplined. For +myself, having acquired only polite French, I can but "look daggers" +when I am abused. We depart presently for _Nice_, in a ricketty +barouche, with post-horses, the _courier_, or post-coach, going no +farther. It is a roomy old affair, that has had pretensions to style +some time since Henri Quatre, but the arms on its panels are illegible +now, and the ambitious driving-box is occupied by the humble materials +to remedy a probable break-down by the way. The postillion is cracking +his whip impatiently, my friend has called me twice, and I must put up +my pencil. + +_Antibes_ again! We have returned here after an unsuccessful attempt +to enter the Sardinian dominions. We were on the road by ten in the +morning, and drove slowly along the shores of the Mediterranean, +enjoying to the utmost the heavenly weather and the glorious scenery +about us. The driver pointed out to us a few miles from Antibes, the +very spot on which Napoleon landed on his return from Elba, and the +tree, a fine old olive, under which he slept three hours, before +commencing his march. We arrived at the _Pont de Var_ about one, and +crossed the river, but here we were met by a guard of Sardinian +soldiers, and our passports were demanded. The commissary came from +the guard-house with a long pair of tongs, and receiving them open, +read them at the longest possible distance. They were then handed back +to us in the same manner, and we were told we could not pass. We then +handed him our certificates of quarantine at Marseilles; but were told +it availed nothing, a new order having arrived from Turin that very +morning, to admit no travellers from infected or suspected places +across the frontier. We asked if there were no means by which we could +pass; but the commissary only shook his head, ordered us not to +dismount on the Sardinian side of the river, and shut his door. We +turned about and recrossed the bridge in some perplexity. The French +commissary at St. Laurent, the opposite village, received us with a +suppressed smile, and informed us that several parties of travellers, +among others an English gentleman and his wife and sister, were at the +_auberge_, waiting for an answer from the Prefect of Nice, having been +turned back in the same manner since morning. We drove up, and they +advised us to send our passports by the postillion, with a letter to +the consuls of our respective nations, requesting information, which +we did immediately. + +Nice is three miles from St. Laurent, and as we could not expect an +answer for several hours, we amused ourselves with a stroll along the +banks of the Var to the Mediterranean. The Sardinian side is bold, +and wooded to the tops of the hills very richly. We kept along a mile +or more through the vineyards, and returned in time to receive a +letter from the American consul, confirming the orders of the +commissary, but advising us to return to Antibes, and sail thence for +Villa Franca, a lazaretto in the neighborhood of Nice, whence we could +enter Italy, after _seven days quarantine_! By this time several +travelling-carriages had collected, and all, profiting by our +experience, turned back together. We are now at the "Gold Eagle," +deliberating. Some have determined to give up their object altogether, +but the rest of us sail to-morrow morning in a fishing-boat for the +lazaretto. + + * * * * * + +LAZARETTO, VILLA FRANCA.--There were but eight of the twenty or thirty +travellers stopped at the bridge who thought it worth while to +persevere. We are all here in this pest-house, and a motley mixture of +nations it is. There are two young Sicilians returning from college to +Messina; a Belgian lad of seventeen, just started on his travels; two +aristocratic young Frenchmen, very elegant and very ignorant of the +world, running down to Italy in their own carriage, to avoid the +cholera; a middle-aged surgeon in the British navy, very cool and very +gentlemanly; a vulgar Marseilles trader, and myself. + +We were from seven in the morning till two, getting away from Antibes. +Our difficulties during the whole day are such a practical comparison +of the freedom of European states and ours, that I may as well detail +them. + +First of all, our passports were to be vised by the police. We were +compelled to stand an hour with our hats off, in a close, dirty +office, waiting our turn for this favor. The next thing was to get the +permission of the prefect of the _marine_ to embark; and this occupied +another hour. Thence we were taken to the health-office, where a _bill +of health_ was made out for eight persons _going to a lazaretto_! The +padrone's freight duties were then to be settled, and we went back and +forth between the Sardinian consul and the French, disputing these for +another hour or more. Our baggage was piled upon the _charrette_, at +last, to be taken to the boat. The quay is outside the gate, and here +are stationed the _douanes_, or custom-officers, who ordered our +trunks to be taken from the cart, and searched them from top to +bottom. After a half hour spent in repacking our effects in the open +street, amid a crowd of idle spectators, we were suffered to proceed. +Almost all these various gentlemen expect a fee, and some demand a +heavy one; and all this trouble and expense of time and money to make +a voyage of _fifteen miles in a fishing-boat_! + +We hoisted the fisherman's latteen sail, and put out of the little +harbor in very bad temper. The wind was fair, and we ran along the +shore for a couple of hours, till we came to Nice, where we were to +stop for permission to go to the lazaretto. We were hailed, off the +mole, with a trumpet, and suffered to pass. Doubling a little point, +half a mile farther on, we ran into the bay of Villa Franca, a handful +of houses at the base of an amphitheatre of mountains. A little round +tower stood in the centre of the harbor, built upon a rock, and +connected with the town by a draw-bridge, and we were landed at a +staircase outside, by which we mounted to show our papers to the +health-officer. The interior was a little circular yard, separated +from an office on the town side by an iron grating, and looking out on +the sea by two embrasures for cannon. Two strips of water and the sky +above was our whole prospect for the hour that we waited here. The +cause of the delay was presently explained by clouds of smoke issuing +from the interior. The tower filled, and a more nauseating odor I +never inhaled. We were near suffocating with the intolerable smell, +and the quantity of smoke deemed necessary to secure his majesty's +officers against contagion. + +A cautious-looking old gentleman, with gray hair, emerged at last from +the smoke, with a long cane-pole in his hand, and, coughing at every +syllable, requested us to insert our passports in the split at the +extremity, which he thrust through the gate. This being done, we asked +him for bread. We had breakfasted at seven, and it was now +sundown--near twelve hours fast. Several of my companions had been +seasick with the swell of the Mediterranean, in coming from Antibes, +and all were faint with hunger and exhaustion. For myself, the +villainous smell of our purification had made me sick, and I had no +appetite; but the rest ate very voraciously of a loaf of coarse bread, +which was extended to us with a tongs and two pieces of paper. + +After reading our passports, the magistrate informed us that he had no +orders to admit us to the lazaretto, and we must lie in our boat till +he could send a messenger to Nice with our passports and obtain +permission. We opened upon him, however, with such a flood of +remonstrance, and with such an emphasis from hunger and fatigue, that +he consented to admit us temporarily on his own responsibility, and +gave the boatmen orders to row back to a long, low stone building, +which we had observed at the foot of a precipice at the entrance to +the harbor. + +He was there before us, and as we mounted the stone ladder he pointed +through the bars of a large inner gate to a single chamber, separated +from the rest of the building, and promising to send us something to +eat in the course of the evening, left us to take possession. Our +position was desolate enough. The building was new, and the plaster +still soft and wet. There was not an article of furniture in the +chamber, and but a single window; the floor was of brick, and the air +as damp within as a cellar. The alternative was to remain out of +doors, in the small yard, walled up thirty feet on three sides, and +washed by the sea on the other; and here, on a long block of granite, +the softest thing I could find, I determined to make an _al fresco_ +night of it. + +Bread, cheese, wine, and cold meat, seethed, Italian fashion, in +nauseous oil, arrived about nine o'clock; and, by the light of a +candle standing in a boot, we sat around on the brick floor, and +supped very merrily. Hunger had brought even our two French exquisites +to their fare, and they ate well. The navy surgeon had seen service, +and had no qualms; the Sicilians were from a German university, and +were not delicate; the Marseilles trader knew no better; and we should +have been less contented with a better meal. It was superfluous to +abuse it. + +A steep precipice hangs immediately over the lazaretto, and the horn +of the half moon was just dipping below it, as I stretched myself to +sleep. With a folded coat under me, and a carpet-bag for a pillow, I +soon fell asleep, and slept soundly till sunrise. My companions had +chosen shelter, but all were happy to be early risers. We mounted our +wall upon the sea, and promenaded till the sun was broadly up, and +the breeze from the Mediterranean sharpened our appetites, and then +finishing the relics of our supper, we waited with what patience we +might the appearance of our breakfast. + + * * * * * + +The magistrate arrived at twelve, yesterday, with a commissary from +Villa Franca, who is to be our victualler during the quarantine. He +has enlarged our limits, by a stone staircase and an immense chamber, +on condition that we pay for an extra guard, in the shape of a +Sardinian soldier, who is to sleep in our room, and eat at our table. +By the way, we _have_ a table, and four rough benches, and these, with +three single mattresses, are all the furniture we can procure. We are +compelled to sleep _across_ the latter of course, to give every one +his share. + +We have come down very contentedly to our situation, and I have been +exceedingly amused at the facility with which eight such different +tempers can amalgamate, upon compulsion. Our small quarters bring us +in contact continually, and we harmonize like schoolboys. At this +moment the Marseilles trader and the two Frenchmen are throwing stones +at something that is floating out with the tide; the surgeon has +dropped his Italian grammar to decide upon which is the best shot; the +Belgian is fishing off the wall, with a pin hook and a bit of cheese; +and the two Sicilians are talking _lingua franca_, at the top of their +voices, to Carolina, the guardian's daughter, who stands coquetting on +the pier just outside the limits. I have got out my books and +portfolio, and taken possession of the broad stair, depending on the +courtesy of my companions to jump over me and my papers when they go +up and down. I sit here most of the day laughing at the fun below, and +writing or reading alternately. The climate is too delicious for +discontent. Every breath is a pleasure. The hills of the amphitheatre +opposite to us are covered with olive, lemon, and orange trees; and in +the evening, from the time the land breeze commences to blow off shore +until ten or eleven, the air is impregnated with the delicate perfume +of the orange-blossom, than which nothing could be more grateful. Nice +is called the hospital of Europe; and truly, under this divine sky, +and with the inspiriting vitality and softness of the air, and all +that nature can lavish of luxuriance and variety upon the hills, it is +the place, if there is one in the world, where the drooping spirit of +the invalid must revive and renew. At this moment the sun has crept +from the peak of the highest mountain across the bay, and we shall +scent presently the spicy wind from the shore. I close my book to go +upon the wall, which I see the surgeon has mounted already with the +same object, to catch the first breath that blows seaward. + +It is Sunday, and an Italian summer morning. I do not think my eyes +ever woke upon so lovely a day. The long, lazy swell comes in from the +Mediterranean as smooth as glass; the sails of a beautiful yacht, +belonging to an English nobleman at Nice, and lying becalmed just now +in the bay, are hanging motionless about the masts; the sky is without +a speck, the air just seems to me to steep every nerve and fibre of +the frame with repose and pleasure. Now and then in America I have +felt a June morning that approached it, but never the degree, the +fulness, the sunny softness of this exquisite clime. It tranquilizes +the mind as well as the body. You cannot resist feeling contented and +genial. We are all out of doors, and my companions have brought down +their mattresses, and are lying along the shade of the east wall, +talking quietly and pleasantly; the usual sounds of the workmen on the +quays of the town are still, our harbor-guard lies asleep in his boat, +the yellow flag of the lazaretto clings to the staff, everything about +us breathes tranquillity. Prisoner as I am, I would not stir willingly +to-day. + + * * * * * + +We have had two new arrivals this morning--a boat from Antibes, with a +company of players bound for the theatre at Milan; and two French +deserters from the regiment at Toulon, who escaped in a leaky boat, +and have made this voyage along the coast to get into Italy. They knew +nothing of the quarantine, and were very much surprised at their +arrest. They will, probably, be delivered up to the French consul. The +new comers are all put together in the large chamber next us, and we +have been talking with them through the grate. His majesty of Sardinia +is not spared in their voluble denunciations. + +Our imprisonment is getting to be a little tedious. We lengthen our +breakfasts and dinners, go to sleep early and get up late, but a +lazaretto is a dull place after all. We have no books except +dictionaries and grammars, and I am on my last sheet of paper. What I +shall do, the two remaining days, I cannot divine. Our meals were +amusing for a while. We have but three knives and four glasses; and +the Belgian, having cut his plate in two on the first day, has eaten +since from the wash-bowl. The salt is in a brown paper, the vinegar in +a shell; and the meats, to be kept warm during their passage by water, +are brought in the black utensils in which they are cooked. Our +tablecloth appeared to-day of all the colors of the rainbow. We sat +down to breakfast with a general cry of horror. Still, with youth and +good spirits, we manage to be more contented than one would expect; +and our lively discussions of the spot on the quay where the table +shall be laid, and the noise of our dinners _en plein air_, would +convince the spectator that we were a very merry and sufficiently +happy company. + +I like my companions, on the whole, very much. The surgeon has been in +Canada and the west of New York, and we have travelled the same +routes, and made in several instances, the same acquaintances. He has +been in almost every part of the world also, and his descriptions are +very graphic and sensible. The Belgian talks of his new king Leopold, +the Sicilians of the German universities; and when I have exhausted +all they can tell me, I turn to our Parisians, whom I find I have met +all last winter without noticing them, at the parties; and we discuss +the belles, and the different members of the _beau monde_, with all +the touching air and tone of exiles from paradise. In a case of +desperate ennui, wearied with studying and talking, the sea wall is a +delightful lounge, and the blue Mediterranean plays the witch to the +indolent fancy, and beguiles it well. I have never seen such a +beautiful sheet of water. The color is peculiarly rich and clear, like +an intensely blue sky, heaving into waves. I do not find the +often-repeated description of its loveliness exaggerated. + +Our seven days expire to-morrow, and we are preparing to eat our last +dinner in the lazaretto with great glee. A temporary table is already +laid upon the quay, and two strips of board raised upon some ingenious +contrivance, I can not well say what, and covered with all the private +and public napkins that retained any portion of their maiden +whiteness. Our knives are reduced to two, one having disappeared +unaccountably; but the deficiency is partially remedied. The surgeon +has "whittled" a pine knot, which floated in upon the tide, into a +distant imitation; and one of the company has produced a delicate +dagger, that looks very like a keepsake from a lady; and, by the +reluctant manner in which it was put to service, the profanation cost +his sentiment an effort. Its white handle and silver sheath lie across +a plate, abridged of its proportions by a very formidable segment. +There was no disguising the poverty of the brown paper that contained +the salt. It was too necessary to be made an "aside," and lies plump +in the middle of the table. I fear there has been more fun in the +preparation than we shall feel in eating the dinner when it arrives. +The Belgian stands on the wall, watching all the boats from town; but +they pass off down the harbor, one after another, and we are destined +to keep our appetites to a late hour. Their detestable cookery needs +the "sauce of hunger." + +The Belgian's hat waves in the air, and the commissary's boat must be +in sight. As we get off at six o'clock to-morrow morning, my portfolio +shuts till I find another resting place, probably Genoa. + + + + +LETTER XXVI. + + SHORE OF THE MEDITERRANEAN--NICE--FUNERAL SERVICES OF MARIA + THERESA, ARCHDUCHESS OF AUSTRIA--PRINCIPALITY OF MONACO--ROAD + TO GENOA--SARDINIA--PRISON OF THE POPE--HOUSE OF + COLUMBUS--GENOA. + + +The health-magistrate arrived at an early hour, on the morning of our +departure from the lazaretto of Villa Franca. He was accompanied by a +physician, who was to direct the fumigation. The iron pot was placed +in the centre of the chamber, our clothes were spread out upon the +beds, and the windows shut. The _chlorin_ soon filled the room, and +its detestable odor became so intolerable that we forced the door, and +rushed past the sentinel into the open air, nearly suffocated. This +farce over, we were permitted to embark, and, rounding the point, put +into Nice. + +The Mediterranean curves gracefully into the crescented shore of this +lovely bay, and the high hills lean away from the skirts of the town +in one unbroken slope of cultivation to the top. Large, handsome +buildings face you on the long quay, as you approach; and white +chimneys, and half-concealed parts of country-houses and suburban +villas, appear through the olive and orange trees with which the +whole amphitheatre is covered. We landed amid a crowd of half-naked +idlers, and were soon at a hotel, where we ordered the best breakfast +the town would afford, and sat down once more to clean cloths and +unrepulsive food. + +As we rose from the table, a note, edged with black, and sealed and +enveloped with considerable circumstance, was put into my hand by the +master of the hotel. It was an invitation from the governor to attend +a funeral service, to be performed in the cathedral that day, at ten +o'clock, for the "late Queen-mother, Maria Theresa, Archduchess of +Austria." Wondering not a little how I came by the honor, I joined the +crowd flocking from all parts of the town to see the ceremony. The +central door was guarded by a file of Sardinian soldiers; and, +presenting my invitation to the officer on duty, I was handed over to +the master of ceremonies, and shown to an excellent seat in the centre +of the church. The windows were darkened, and the candles of the altar +not yet lit; and, by the indistinct light that came in through the +door, I could distinguish nothing clearly. A little silver bell +tinkled presently from one of the side-chapels, and boys dressed in +white appeared, with long tapers, and the house was soon splendidly +illuminated. I found myself in the midst of a crowd of four or five +hundred ladies, all in deep mourning. The church was hung from the +floor to the roof in black cloth, ornamented gorgeously with silver; +and, under the large dome, which occupied half the ceiling, was raised +a pyramidal altar, with tripods supporting chalices for incense at the +four corners, a walk round the lower base for the priests, and +something in the centre, surrounded with a blaze of light, +representing figures weeping over a tomb. The organ commenced pealing, +there was a single beat on the drum, and a procession entered. It was +composed of the nobility of Nice, and the military and civil officers, +all in uniform and court dresses. The gold and silver flashing in the +light, the tall plumes of the Sardinian soldiery below, the solemn +music, and the moving of the censers from the four corners of the +altar, produced a very impressive effect. As soon as the procession +had quite entered, the fire was kindled in the four chalices; and, as +the white smoke rolled up to the roof, an anthem commenced with the +full power of the organ. The singing was admirable, and there was one +female voice in the choir, of singular power and sweetness. + +The remainder of the service was the usual ceremonies of the Catholic +church, and I amused myself with observing the people about me. It was +little like a scene of mourning. The officers gradually edged in +between the seats, and every woman with the least pretension to +prettiness was engaged in anything but her prayers for the soul of the +late Archduchess. Some of these, the very young girls, were pretty; +and the women, of thirty-five or forty apparently, were fine-looking; +but, except a decided air of style and rank, the fairly grown-up +belles seemed to me of very small attraction. + +I saw little else in Nice to interest me. I wandered about with my +friend the surgeon, laughing at the ridiculous figures and villainous +uniforms of the Sardinian infantry, and repelling the beggars, who +radiated to us from every corner; and, having traversed the terrace of +a mile on the tops of the houses next the sea, unravelled all the +lanes of the old town, and admired all the splendor of the new, we +dined and got early to bed, anxious to sleep once more between sheets, +and prepare for an early start on the following morning. + + * * * * * + +We were on the road to Genoa with the first gray of the dawn: the +surgeon, a French officer, and myself, three passengers of a courier +barouche. We were climbing up mountains and sliding down with locked +wheels for several hours, by a road edging on precipices, and overhung +by tremendous rocks, and, descending at last to the sea-level, we +entered _Mentone_, a town of the little principality of _Monaco_. +Having paid our twenty sous tribute to this prince of a territory not +larger than a Kentucky farm, we were suffered to cross his borders +once more into Sardinia, having posted through a whole State in less +than half an hour. + +It is impossible to conceive a route of more grandeur than the famous +road along the Mediterranean from Nice to Genoa. It is near a hundred +and fifty miles, over the edges of mountains bordering the sea for the +whole distance. The road is cut into the sides of the precipice, often +hundreds of feet perpendicular above the surf, descending sometimes +into the ravines formed by the numerous rivers that cut their way to +the sea, and mounting immediately again to the loftiest summits. It is +a dizzy business, from beginning to end. There is no parapet, usually, +and there are thousands of places where half a "shie" by a timid +horse, would drop you at once some hundred fathoms upon rocks wet by +the spray of every sea that breaks upon the shore. The loveliest +little nests of valleys lie between that can be conceived. You will +see a green spot, miles below you in turning the face of a rock; and +right in the midst, like a handful of plaster models on a carpet, a +cluster of houses, lying quietly in the warm southern exposure, +embosomed in everything refreshing to the eye, the mountain sides +cultivated in a large circle around, and the ruins of an old castle to +a certainty on the eminence above. You descend and descend, and wind +into the curves of the shore, losing and regaining sight of it +constantly, till, entering a gate on the sea-level, you find yourself +in a filthy, narrow, half-whitewashed town, with a population of +beggars, priests, and soldiers; not a respectable citizen to be seen +from one end to the other, nor a clean woman, nor a decent house. It +is so, all through Sardinia. The towns from a distance lie in the most +exquisitely-chosen spots possible. A river comes down from the hills +and washes the wall; the uplands above are always of the very choicest +shelter and exposure. You would think man and nature had conspired to +complete its convenience and beauty; yet, within, all is misery, dirt, +and superstition. Every corner has a cross--every bench a priest, +idling in the sun--every door a picture of the Virgin. You are +delighted to emerge once more, and get up a mountain to the fresh air. + +As we got farther on toward Genoa, the valleys became longer by the +sea, and the road ran through gardens, down to the very beach, of +great richness and beauty. It was new to me to travel for hours among +groves of orange and lemon trees, laden with both fruit and flower, +the ground beneath covered with the windfalls, like an American +apple-orchard. I never saw such a profusion of fruit. The trees were +breaking under the rich yellow clusters. Among other things, there +were hundreds of tall palms, spreading out their broad fans in the +sun, apparently perfectly strong and at home under this warm sky. They +are cultivated as ornaments for the churches on sacred days. + +I caught some half dozen views on the way that I shall never get out +of my memory. At one place particularly, I think near Fenale, we ran +round the corner of a precipice by a road cut right into the face of a +rock, two hundred feet at least above the sea; and a long view burst +upon us at once of a sweet green valley, stretching back into the +mountains as far as the eye could go, with three or four small towns, +with their white churches, just checkering the broad sweeps of +verdure, a rapid river winding through its bosom, and a back ground of +the Piedmontese Alps, with clouds half-way up their sides, and snow +glittering in the sun on their summits. Language cannot describe these +scenes. It is but a repetition of epithets to attempt it. You must +come and see them to feel how much one loses to live always at home, +and _read_ of such things only. + +The _courier_ pointed out to us the place in which Napoleon imprisoned +the Pope of Rome--a low house, surrounded with a wall close upon the +sea--and the house a few miles from Genoa, believed to have been that +of Columbus. + + * * * * * + +We entered Genoa an hour after sunrise, by a noble gate, placed at the +western extremity of the crescented harbor. Thence to the centre of +the city was one continued succession of sumptuous palaces. We drove +rapidly along the smooth, beautifully paved streets, and my +astonishment was unbroken till we were set down at the hotel. +Congratulating ourselves on the hindrances which had conspired to +bring us here against our will, we took coffee, and went to bed for a +few hours, fatigued with a journey more wearisome to the body than the +mind. + + * * * * * + +I have spent two days in merely wandering about Genoa, looking at the +exterior of the city. It is a group of hills, piled with princely +palaces. I scarce know how to commence a description of it. If there +were but one of these splendid edifices, or if I could isolate a +single palace, and describe it to you minutely, it would be easy to +convey an impression of the surprise and pleasure of a stranger in +Genoa. The whole city, to use the expression of a French guide-book, +"_respire la magnificence_"--breathes of splendor! The grand street, +in which most of the palaces stand, winds around the foot of a high +hill; and the gardens and terraces are piled back, with palaces above +them; and gardens, and terraces, and palaces still above these; +forming, wherever you can catch a vista, the most exquisite rising +perspective. On the summit of this hill stands the noble fortress of +St. George; and behind it a lovely open garden, just now alive with +millions of roses, a fountain playing into a deep oval basin in the +centre, and a view beneath and beyond of a broad winding valley, +covered with the country villas of the nobility and gentry, and +blooming with all the luxuriant vegetation of a southern clime. + +My window looks out upon the bay, across which I see the palace of +_Andria Doria_, the great winner of the best glory of the Genoese; and +just under me floats an American flag, at the peak of a Baltimore +schooner, that sails to-morrow morning for the United States. I must +close my letter, to send by her. I shall remain in Genoa a week, and +will write you of its splendor more minutely. + + + + +LETTER XXVII. + + FLORENCE--THE GALLERY--THE VENUS DE MEDICIS--THE TRIBUNE--THE + FORNARINA--THE CASCINE--AN ITALIAN FESTA--MADAME CATALANI. + + +FLORENCE.--It is among the pleasantest things in this very pleasant +world, to find oneself for the first time in a famous city. We sallied +from the hotel this morning an hour after our arrival, and stopped at +the first corner to debate where we should go. I could not help +smiling at the magnificence of the alternatives. "To the Gallery, of +course," said I, "to see the Venus de Medicis." "To Santa Croce," said +one, "to see the tombs of Michael Angelo, and Alfieri, and +Machiavelli." "To the Palazzo Pitti," said another, "the Grand Duke's +palace, and the choicest collection of pictures in the world." The +embarrassment alone was quite a sensation. + +The Venus carried the day. We crossed the Piazza de Granduca, and +inquired for the gallery. A fine court was shown us, opening out from +the square, around the three sides of which stood a fine uniform +structure, with a colonnade, the lower story occupied by shops and +crowded with people. We mounted a broad staircase, and requested of +the soldier at the door to be directed to the presence of the Venus, +without delay. Passing through one of the long wings of the gallery, +without even a glance at the statues, pictures, and bronzes that lined +the walls, we arrived at the door of a cabinet, and, putting aside the +large crimson curtain at the entrance, stood before the enchantress. I +must defer a description of her. We spent an hour there, but, except +that her divine beauty filled and satisfied my eye, as nothing else +ever did, and that the statue is as unlike a thing to the casts one +sees of it as one thing could well be unlike another, I made no +criticism. There is an atmosphere of fame and circumstantial interest +about the Venus, which bewilders the fancy almost as much as her +loveliness does the eye. She has been gazed upon and admired by troops +of pilgrims, each of whom it were worth half a life to have met at her +pedestal. The painters, the poets, the talent and beauty, that have +come there from every country under the sun, and the single feeling of +love and admiration that she has breathed alike into all, consecrate +her mere presence as a place for revery and speculation. Childe Harold +has been here, I thought, and Shelley and Wordsworth and Moore; and, +farther removed from our sympathies, but interesting still, the poets +and sculptors of another age, Michael Angelo and Alfieri, the men of +genius of all nations and times; and, to stand in the same spot, and +experience the same feeling with them, is an imaginative pleasure, it +is true, but as truly a deep and real one. Exceeding, as the Venus +does beyond all competition, every image of loveliness painted or +sculptured that one has ever before seen, the fancy leaves the eye +gazing upon it, and busies itself irresistibly with its pregnant +atmosphere of recollections. At least I found it so, and I must go +there again and again, before I can look at the marble separately, +and with a merely admiring attention. + + * * * * * + +Three or four days have stolen away, I scarce know how. I have seen +but one or two things, yet have felt so unequal to the description, +that but for my promise I should never write a line about them. +Really, to sit down and gaze into one of Titian's faces for an hour, +and then to go away and dream of putting into language its color and +expression, seems to me little short of superlative madness. I only +wonder at the divine faculty of sight. The draught of pleasure seems +to me immortal, and the eye the only Ganymede that can carry the cup +steadily to the mind. How shall I begin to give you an idea of the +Fornarina? What can I tell you of the St. John in the desert, that can +afford you a glimpse, even, of Raphael's inspired creations? + +The _Tribune_ is the name of a small octagonal cabinet in the gallery, +devoted to the masterpieces of the collection. There are five statues, +of which one is the Venus de Medicis; and a dozen or twenty pictures, +of which I have only seen as yet Titian's two Venuses, and Raphael's +St. John and Fornarina. People walk through the other parts of the +gallery, and pause here and there a moment before a painting or a +statue; but in the Tribune they sit down, and you may wait hours +before a chair is vacated, or often before the occupant shows a sign +of life. Everybody seems entranced there. They get before a picture, +and bury their eyes in it, as if it had turned them to stone. After +the Venus, the Fornarina strikes me most forcibly, and I have stood +and gazed at it till my limbs were numb with the motionless posture. +There is no affectation in this. I saw an English girl yesterday +gazing at the St. John. She was a flighty, coquettish-looking +creature, and I had felt that the spirit of the place was profaned by +the way she sailed into the room. She sat down, with half a glance at +the Venus, and began to look at this picture. It is a glorious thing, +to be sure, a youth of apparently seventeen, with a leopard-skin about +his loins, in the very pride of maturing manliness and beauty. The +expression of the face is all human, but wrought to the very limit of +celestial enthusiasm. The wonderful richness of the coloring, the +exquisite ripe fulness of the limbs, the passionate devotion of the +kindling features, combine to make it the faultless ideal of a perfect +human being in youth. I had quite forgotten the intruder, for an hour. +Quite a different picture had absorbed all my attention. The entrance +of some one disturbed me, and as I looked around I caught a glance of +my coquette, sitting with her hands awkwardly clasped over her +guide-book, her mouth open, and the lower jaw hanging down with a +ludicrous expression of unconsciousness and astonished admiration. She +was evidently unaware of everything in the world except the form +before her, and a more absorbed and sincere wonder I never witnessed. + +I have been enjoying all day an Italian Festa. The Florentines have a +pleasant custom of celebrating this particular festival, +Ascension-day, in the open air; breakfasting, dining, and dancing +under the superb trees of the Cascine. This is, by the way, quite the +loveliest public pleasure-ground I ever saw--a wood of three miles in +circumference, lying on the banks of the Arno, just below the town; +not, like most European promenades, a bare field of clay or ground, +set out with stunted trees, and cut into rectangular walks, or +without a secluded spot or an untrodden blade of grass; but full of +sward-paths, green and embowered, the underbrush growing wild and +luxuriant between; ivy and vines of all descriptions hanging from the +limbs, and winding about every trunk; and here and there a splendid +opening of velvet grass for half a mile, with an ornamental temple in +the centre, and beautiful contrivances of perspective in every +direction. I have been not a little surprised with the enchantment of +so public a place. You step into the woods from the very pavement of +one of the most populous streets in Florence; from dust and noise and +a crowd of busy people to scenes where Boccacio might have fitly laid +his "hundred tales of love." The river skirts the Cascine on one side, +and the extensive grounds of a young Russian nobleman's villa on the +other; and here at sunset come all the world to walk and drive, and on +festas like this, to encamp, and keep holy-day under the trees. The +whole place is more like a half-redeemed wild-wood in America, than a +public promenade in Europe. + +It is the custom, I am told, for the Grand Duke and the nobles of +Tuscany to join in this festival, and breakfast in the open air with +the people. The late death of the young and beautiful Grand-Duchess +has prevented it this year, and the merry-makings are diminished of +one half their interest. I should not have imagined it, however, +without the information. I took a long stroll among the tents this +morning, with two ladies from Albany, old friends, whom I have +encountered accidentally in Florence. The scenes were peculiar and +perfectly Italian. Everything was done fantastically and tastefully. +The tables were set about the knolls, the bonnets and shawls hung upon +the trees, and the dark-eyed men and girls, with their expressive +faces full of enjoyment, leaned around upon the grass, with the +children playing among them, in innumerable little parties, dispersed +as if it had been managed by a painter. At every few steps a long +embowered alley stretched off to the right or left, with strolling +groups scattered as far as the eye could see under the trees, the red +ribands and bright colored costumes contrasting gayly with the foliage +of every tint, from the dusky leaf of the olive to the bright soft +green of the acacia. Wherever there was a circular opening there were +tents just in the edges of the wood, the white festoons of the cloth +hung from the limbs, and tables spread under them, with their +antique-looking Tuscan pitchers wreathed with vines, and tables spread +with broad green leaves, making the prettiest cool covering that could +be conceived. I have not come up to the reality in this description, +and yet, on reading it, it sounds half a fiction. One must be here to +feel how little language can convey an idea of this "garden of the +world." + +The evening was the fashionable hour, and, with the addition of Mr. +Greenough, the sculptor, to our party, we drove to the Cascine about +an hour before sunset to see the equipages, and enjoy the close of the +festival. The drives intersect these beautiful grounds irregularly in +every direction, and the spectacle was even more brilliant than in the +morning. The nobility and the gay world of Florence flew past us, in +their showy carriages of every description, the distinguished +occupants differing in but one respect from well-bred people of other +countries--_they looked happy_. If I had been lying on the grass, an +Italian peasant, with my kinsmen and friends, I should not have felt +that among the hundreds who were rolling past me, richer and better +born, there was one face that looked on me contemptuously or +condescendingly. I was very much struck with the universal air of +enjoyment and natural exhilaration. One scarce felt like a stranger in +such a happy-looking crowd. + +Near the centre of the grounds is an open space, where it is the +custom for people to stop in driving to exchange courtesies with their +friends. It is a kind of fashionable open air _soiree_. Every evening +you may see from fifty to a hundred carriages at a time, moving about +in this little square in the midst of the woods, and drawing up side +by side, one after another, for conversation. Gentlemen come +ordinarily on horseback, and pass round from carriage to carriage, +with their hats off, talking gayly with the ladies within. There could +not be a more brilliant scene, and there never was a more delightful +custom. It keeps alive the intercourse in the summer months, when +there are no parties, and it gives a stranger an opportunity of seeing +the lovely and the distinguished without the difficulty and restraint +of an introduction to society. I wish some of these better habits of +Europe were imitated in our country as readily as worse ones. + +After threading the embowered roads of the Cascine for an hour, and +gazing with constant delight at the thousand pictures of beauty and +happiness that met us at every turn, we came back and mingled in the +gay throng of carriages at the centre. The _valet_ of our lady-friends +knew everybody, and, taking a convenient stand, we amused ourselves +for an hour, gazing at them as they were named in passing. Among +others, several of the Bonaparte family went by in a splendid +barouche; and a heavy carriage, with a showy, tasselled hammer-cloth, +and servants in dashy liveries, stopped just at our side, containing +Madame Catalani, the celebrated singer. She has a fine face yet, with +large expressive features, and dark, handsome eyes. Her daughter was +with her, but she has none of her mother's pretensions to good looks. + + + + +LETTER XXVIII. + + THE PITTI PALACE--TITIAN'S BELLA--AN IMPROVISATRICE--VIEW FROM + A WINDOW--ANNUAL EXPENSE OF RESIDENCE AT FLORENCE. + + +I have got into the "back-stairs interest," as the politicians say, +and to-day I wound up the staircase of the _Pitti Palace_, and spent +an hour or two in its glorious halls with the younger Greenough, +without the insufferable and usually inevitable annoyance of a +_cicerone_. You will not of course, expect a regular description of +such a vast labyrinth of splendor. I could not give it to you even if +I had been there the hundred times that I intend to go, if I live long +enough in Florence. In other galleries you see merely the Arts, here +you are dazzled with the renewed and costly magnificence of a royal +palace. The floors and ceilings and furniture, each particular part of +which it must have cost the education of a life to accomplish, +bewilder you out of yourself, quite; and, till you can tread on a +matchless pavement or imitated mosaic, and lay your hat on a table of +inlaid gems, and sit on a sofa wrought with you know not what +delicate and curious workmanship, without nervousness or compunction, +you are not in a state to appreciate the pictures upon the walls with +judgment or pleasure. + +I saw but one thing well--Titian's BELLA, as the Florentines call it. +There are two famous Venuses by the same master, as you know, in the +other gallery, hanging over the Venus de Medicis--full-length figures +reclining upon couches, one of them usually called Titian's mistress. +The _Bella_ in the Pitti gallery, is a half-length portrait, dressed +to the shoulders, and a different kind of picture altogether. The +others are voluptuous, full-grown women. This represents a young girl +of perhaps seventeen; and if the frame in which it hangs were a +window, and the loveliest creature that ever trod the floors of a +palace stood looking out upon you, in the open air, she could not seem +more real, or give you a stronger feeling of the presence of +exquisite, breathing, human beauty. The face has no particular +character. It is the look with which a girl would walk to the casement +in a mood of listless happiness, and gaze out, she scarce knew why. +You feel that it is the habitual expression. Yet, with all its subdued +quiet and sweetness, it is a countenance beneath which evidently +sleeps warm and measureless passion, capacities for loving and +enduring and resenting everything that makes up a character to revere +and adore. I do not know how a picture can express so much--but it +does express all this, and eloquently too. + +In a fresco on the ceiling of one of the private chambers, is a +portrait of the late lamented Grand-duchess. On the mantelpiece in the +Duke's cabinet also is a beautiful marble bust of her. It is a face +and head corresponding perfectly to the character given her by common +report, full of nobleness and kindness. The Duke, who loved her with +a devotion rarely found in marriages of state, is inconsolable since +her death, and has shut himself from all society. He hardly slept +during her illness, watching by her bedside constantly. She was a +religious enthusiast, and her health is said to have been first +impaired by too rigid an adherence to the fasts of the church, and +self-inflicted penance. The Florentines talk of her still, and she +appears to have been unusually loved and honored. + + * * * * * + +I have just returned from hearing an _improvisatrice_. At a party last +night I met an Italian gentleman, who talked very enthusiastically of +a lady of Florence, celebrated for her talent of improvisation. She +was to give a private exhibition to her friends the next day at +twelve, and he offered politely to introduce me. He called this +morning, and we went together. + +Some thirty or forty people were assembled in a handsome room, +darkened tastefully by heavy curtains. They were sitting in perfect +silence when we entered, all gazing intently on the improvisatrice, a +lady of some forty or fifty years, of a fine countenance, and dressed +in deep mourning. She rose to receive us; and my friend introducing +me, to my infinite dismay, as an _improvisatore Americano_, she gave +me a seat on the sofa at her right hand, an honor I had not Italian +enough to decline. I regretted it the less that it gave me an +opportunity of observing the effects of the "fine phrensy," a pleasure +I should otherwise certainly have lost through the darkness of the +room. + +We were sitting in profound silence, the head of the improvisatrice +bent down upon her breast, and her hands clasped over her lap, when +she suddenly raised herself, and with both hands extended, commenced +in a thrilling voice, "_Patria!_" Some particular passage of +Florentine history had been given her by one of the company, and we +had interrupted her in the midst of her conception. She went on with +astonishing fluency, in smooth harmonious rhyme, without the +hesitation of a breath, for half an hour. My knowledge of the language +was too imperfect to judge of the finish of the style, but the +Italians present were quite carried away with their enthusiasm. There +was an improvisatore in company, said to be the second in Italy; a +young man, of perhaps twenty-five, with a face that struck me as the +very _beau ideal_ of genius. His large expressive eyes kindled as the +poetess went on, and the changes of his countenance soon attracted the +attention of the company. She closed and sunk back upon her seat, +quite exhausted; and the poet, looking round for sympathy, loaded her +with praises in the peculiarly beautiful epithets of the Italian +language. I regarded her more closely as she sat by me. Her profile +was beautiful; and her mouth, which at the first glance had exhibited +marks of age, was curled by her excitement into a firm, animated +curve, which restored twenty years at least by its expression. + +After a few minutes one of the company went out of the room, and wrote +upon a sheet of paper the last words of every line for a sonnet; and a +gentleman who had remained within, gave a subject to fill it up. She +took the paper, and looking at it a moment or two, repeated the sonnet +as fluently as if it had been written out before her. Several other +subjects were then given her, and she filled the same sonnet with the +same terminations. It was wonderful. I could not conceive of such +facility. After she had satisfied them with this, she turned to me and +said, that in compliment to the American improvisatore she would give +an ode upon America. To disclaim the character and the honor would +have been both difficult and embarrassing even for one who knew the +language better than I, so I bowed and submitted. She began with the +discovery of Columbus, claimed him as her countryman; and with some +poetical fancies about the wild woods and the Indians, mingled up +Montezuma and Washington rather promiscuously, and closed with a +really beautiful apostrophe to liberty. My acknowledgments were +fortunately lost in the general murmur. + +A tragedy succeeded, in which she sustained four characters. This, by +the working of her forehead and the agitation of her breast, gave her +more trouble, but her fluency was unimpeded; and when she closed, the +company was in raptures. Her gestures were more passionate in this +performance, but, even with my imperfect knowledge of the language, +they always seemed called for and in taste. Her friends rose as she +sunk back on the sofa, gathered round her, and took her hands, +overwhelming her with praises. It was a very exciting scene +altogether, and I went away with new ideas of poetical power and +enthusiasm. + + * * * * * + +One lodges like a prince in Florence, and pays like a beggar. For the +information of artists and scholars desirous to come abroad, to whom +exact knowledge on the subject is important, I will give you the +inventory and cost of my whereabout. + +I sit at this moment in a window of what was formerly the archbishop's +palace--a noble old edifice, with vast staircases and resounding +arches, and a hall in which you might put a dozen of the modern brick +houses of our country. My chamber is as large as a ball-room, on the +second story, looking out upon the garden belonging to the house, +which extends to the eastern wall of the city. Beyond this lies one of +the sweetest views in the world--the ascending amphitheatre of hills, +in whose lap lies Florence, with the tall eminence of _Fiesole_ in the +centre, crowned with the monastery in which Milton passed six weeks, +while gathering scenery for his Paradise. I can almost count the panes +of glass in the windows of the bard's room; and, between the fine old +building and my eye, on the slope of the hill, lie thirty or forty +splendid villas, half-buried in trees (Madame Catalani's among them), +piled one above another on the steep ascent, with their columns and +porticoes, as if they were mock temples in a vast terraced garden. I +do not think there is a window in Italy that commands more points of +beauty. Cole, the American landscape painter, who occupied the room +before me, took a sketch from it. For neighbors, the Neapolitan +ambassador lives on the same floor, the two Greenoughs in the +ground-rooms below, and the palace of one of the wealthiest nobles of +Florence overlooks the garden, with a front of eighty-five windows, +from which you are at liberty to select any two or three, and imagine +the most celebrated beauty of Tuscany behind the crimson curtains--the +daughter of this same noble bearing that reputation. She was pointed +out to me at the Opera a night or two since, and I have seen as famous +women with less pretensions. + +For the interior, my furniture is not quite upon the same scale, but I +have a clean snow-white bed, a calico-covered sofa, chairs and tables +enough, and pictures three deep from the wall to the floor. + +For all this, and the liberty of the episcopal garden, I pay _three +dollars a month_! A dollar more is charged for lamps, boots, and +service, and a dark-eyed landlady of thirty-five mends my gloves, and +pays me two visits a day--items not mentioned in the bill. Then for +the feeding, an excellent breakfast of coffee and toast is brought me +for six cents; and, without wine, one may dine heartily at a +fashionable restaurant for twelve cents, and with wine, quite +magnificently for twenty-five. Exclusive of postage and pleasures, +this is all one is called upon to spend in Florence. Three hundred +dollars a year would fairly and largely cover the expenses of a man +living at this rate; and a man who would not be willing to live half +as well for the sake of his art, does not deserve to see Italy. I have +stated these unsentimental particulars, because it is a kind of +information I believe much wanted. I should have come to Italy years +ago if I had known as much, and I am sure there are young men in our +country, dreaming of this paradise of art in half despair, who will +thank me for it, and take up at once "the pilgrim's sandal-shoon and +scollop-shell." + + + + +LETTER XXIX. + + EXCURSION TO VENICE--AMERICAN ARTISTS--VALLEY OF FLORENCE-- + MOUNTAINS OF CARRARA--TRAVELLING COMPANIONS--HIGHLAND + TAVERN--MIST AND SUNSHINE--ITALIAN VALLEYS--VIEW OF THE + ADRIATIC--BORDER OF ROMAGNA--SUBJECTS FOR THE PENCIL--HIGHLAND + ITALIANS--ROMANTIC SCENERY--A PAINFUL OCCURRENCE--AN ITALIAN + HUSBAND--A DUTCHMAN, HIS WIFE AND CHILDREN--BOLOGNE--THE + PILGRIM--MODEL FOR A MAGDALEN. + + +I started for Venice yesterday, in company with Mr. Alexander and Mr. +Cranch, two American artists. We had taken the vetturino for Bologna, +and at daylight we were winding up the side of the amphitheatre of +Appenines that bends over Florence, leaving Fiesole rising sharply on +our right. The mist was creeping up the mountain just in advance of +us, retreating with a scarcely perceptible motion to the summits, like +the lift of a heavy curtain; Florence, and its long, heavenly valley, +full of white palaces sparkling in the sun, lay below us, more like a +vision of a better world than a scene of human passion; away in the +horizon the abrupt heads of the mountains of Carrara rose into the +sky; and with the cool, fresh breeze of the hills, and the excitement +of the pleasant excursion before us, we were three of as happy +travellers probably as were to be met on any highway in this garden of +the world. + +We had six companions, and a motley crew they were--a little +effeminate Venetian, probably a tailor, with a large, noble-looking, +handsome contadina for a wife; a sputtering Dutch merchant, a fine, +little, coarse, good-natured fellow, with _his_ wife, and two very +small and very disagreeable children; an Austrian corporal in full +uniform; and a fellow in a straw hat, speaking some unknown language, +and a nondescript in every respect. The women and children, and my +friends, the artists, were my companions inside, the double dicky in +front accommodating the others. Conversation commenced with the +journey. The Dutch spoke their dissonant language to each other, and +French to us, the contadina's soft Venetian dialect broke in like a +flute in a chorus of harsh instruments, and our own hissing English +added to a mixture already sufficiently various. + +We were all day ascending mountains, and slept coolly under three or +four blankets at a highland tavern, on a very wild Appenine. Our +supper was gaily eaten, and our mirth served to entertain five or six +English families, whose chambers were only separated from the rough +raftered dining hall by double curtains. It was pleasant to hear the +children and nurses speaking English unseen. The contrast made us +realize forcibly the eminently foreign scene about us. The next +morning, after travelling two or three hours in a thick, drizzling +mist, we descended a sharp hill, and emerged at its foot into a +sunshine so sudden and clear, that it seemed almost as if the night +had burst into mid-day in a moment. We had come out of a black cloud. +The mountain behind us was capped with it to the summit. Beneath us +lay a map of a hundred valleys, all bathed and glowing in unclouded +light, and on the limit of the horizon, far off as the eye could span, +lay a long sparkling line of water, like a silver frame around the +landscape. It was our first view of the _Adriatic_. We looked at it +with the singular and indefinable emotion with which one always sees a +celebrated _water_ for the first time--a sensation, it seems to me, +which is like that of no other addition to our knowledge. The +Mediterranean at Marseilles, the Arno at Florence, the Seine at Paris, +affected me in the same way. Explain it who will, or can! + +An hour after, we reached the border of _Romagna_, the dominions of +the Pope running up thus far into the Appenines. Here our trunks were +taken off and searched more minutely. The little village was full of +the dark-skinned, romantic-looking Romagnese, and my two friends, +seated on a wall, with a dozen curious gazers about them, sketched the +heads looking from the old stone windows, beggars, buildings, and +scenery, in a mood of professional contentment. Dress apart, these +highland Italians are like North American Indians--the same copper +complexions, high cheek bones, thin lips, and dead, black hair. The +old women particularly, would pass in any of our towns for +full-blooded squaws. + +The scenery, after this, grew of the kind "which savage Rosa +dashed"--the only landscape I ever saw _exactly_ of the tints so +peculiar to Salvator's pictures. Our painters were in ecstasies with +it, and truly, the dark foliage, and blanched rocks, the wild glens, +and wind-distorted trees, gave the country the air of a home for all +the tempests and floods of a continent. The Kaatskills are tame to +it. + +The forenoon came on, hot and sultry, and our little republic began to +display its character. The tailor's wife was taken sick; and fatigue, +and heat, and the rough motion of the vetturino in descending the +mountains, brought on a degree of suffering which it was painful to +witness. She was a woman of really extraordinary beauty, and dignified +and modest as few women are in any country. Her suppressed groans, her +white, tremulous lips, the tears of agony pressing thickly through her +shut eyelids, and the clenching of her sculpture-like hands, would +have moved anything but an Italian husband. The little effeminate +villain treated her as if she had been a dog. She bore everything from +him till he took her hand, which she raised faintly to intimate that +she could not rise when the carriage stopped, and threw it back into +her face with a curse. She roused, and looked at him with a natural +majesty and calmness that made my blood thrill. "_Aspetta?_" was her +only answer, as she sunk back and fainted. + +The Dutchman's wife was a plain, honest, affectionate creature, +bearing the humors of two heated and ill-tempered children, with a +patience we were compelled to admire. Her husband smoked and laughed, +and talked villainous French and worse Italian, but was glad to escape +to the cabriolet in the hottest of the day, leaving his wife to her +cares. The baby screamed, and the child blubbered and fretted, and for +hours the mother was a miracle of kindness. The "drop too much," came +in the shape of a new crying fit from both children, and the poor +little Dutchwoman, quite wearied out, burst into a flood of tears, and +hiccupped her complaints in her own language, weeping unrestrainedly +for a quarter of an hour. After this she felt better, took a gulp of +wine from the black bottle, and settled herself once more quietly and +resignedly to her duties. We had certainly opened one or two very +fresh veins of human character, when we stopped at the gates. + +There is but one hotel for American travellers in Bologna, of course. +Those who have read Rogers's Italy, will remember his mention of "The +Pilgrim," the house where the poet met Lord Byron by appointment, and +passed the evening with him which he describes so exquisitely. We took +leave of our motley friends at the door, and our artists who had +greatly admired the lovely Venetian, parted from her with the regret +of old acquaintances. She certainly was, as they said, a splendid +model for a Magdalen, "majestical and sad," and, always in attitudes +for a picture: sleeping or waking, she afforded a succession of +studies of which they took the most enthusiastic advantage. + + + + +LETTER XXX. + + EXCURSION TO VENICE CONTINUED--BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF BOLOGNA-- + GALLERY OF THE FINE ARTS--RAPHAEL'S ST. CECILIA--PICTURES OF + CARRACCI--DOMENICHINOS' MADONNA DEL ROSARIO--GUIDO'S MASSACRE + OF THE INNOCENTS--THE CATHEDRAL AND THE DUOMO--EFFECTS OF + THESE PLACES OF WORSHIP, AND THE CEREMONIES, UPON THE MIND-- + RESORT OF THE ITALIAN PEASANTRY--OPEN CHURCHES-- + SUBTERRANEAN-CONFESSION CHAPEL--THE FESTA--GRAND PROCESSIONS-- + ILLUMINATIONS--AUSTRIAN BANDS OF MUSIC--DEPORTMENT OF THE PEOPLE + TO A STRANGER. + + +Another evening is here, and my friends have crept to bed with the +exclamation, "how much we may live in a day." Bologna is unlike any +other city we have ever seen, in a multitude of things. You walk all +over it under arcades, sheltered on either side from the sun, the +elegance and ornament of the lines of pillars depending on the wealth +of the owner of the particular house, but columns and arches, simple +or rich, everywhere. Imagine porticoes built on the front of every +house in Philadelphia or New York, so as to cover the sidewalks +completely, and, down the long perspective of every street, continued +lines of airy Corinthian, or simple Doric pillars, and you may faintly +conceive the impression of the streets of Bologna. With Lord Byron's +desire to forget everything English, I do not wonder at his selection +of this foreign city for a residence, so emphatically unlike, as it +is, to everything else in the world. + +We inquired out the gallery after breakfast, and spent two or three +hours among the celebrated master-pieces of the _Carracci_, and the +famous painters of the Bolognese school. The collection is small, but +said to be more choice than any other in Italy. There certainly are +five or six among its forty or fifty gems, that deserve each a +pilgrimage. The pride of the place is the St. Cecilia, by Raphael. +This always beautiful personification of music, a woman of celestial +beauty, stands in the midst of a choir who have been interrupted in +their anthem by a song, issuing from a vision of angels in a cloud +from heaven. They have dropped their instruments, broken, upon the +ground, and are listening with rapt attention, all, except the saint, +with heads dropped upon their bosoms, overcome with the glory of the +revelation. She alone, with her harp hanging loosely from her fingers, +gazes up with the most serene and cloudless rapture beaming from her +countenance, yet with a look of full and angelic comprehension, and +understanding of the melody and its divine meaning. You feel that her +beauty is mortal, for it is all woman; but you see that, for the +moment, the spirit that breathes through, and mingles with the harmony +in the sky, is seraphic and immortal. If there ever was inspiration, +out of holy writ, it touched the pencil of Raphael. + +It is tedious to read descriptions of pictures. I liked everything in +the gallery. The Bolognese style of color suits my eye. It is rich +and forcible, without startling or offending. Its delicious mellowness +of color, and vigor and triumphant power of conception, show two +separate triumphs of the art, which in the same hand are delightful. +The pictures of Ludovico Carracci especially fired my admiration. And +Domenichino, who died of a broken heart at Rome, because his +productions were neglected, is a painter who always touches me nearly. +His _Madonna del Rosario_ is crowded with beauty. Such children I +never saw in painting--the very ideals of infantile grace and +innocence. It is said of him, that, after painting his admirable +frescoes in the church of St. Andrew, at Rome, which, at the time, +were ridiculed unsparingly by the artists, he used to walk in on his +return from his studio, and gazing at them with a dejected air, remark +to his friend, that he "could not think they were _quite_ so bad--they +_might_ have been worse." How true it is, that, "the root of a great +name is in the dead body." + +Guido's celebrated picture of the "Massacre of the Innocents," hangs +just opposite the St. Cecilia. It is a powerful and painful thing. The +marvel of it to me is the simplicity with which its wonderful effects +are produced, both of expression and color. The kneeling mother in the +foreground, with her dead children before her, is the most intense +representation of agony I ever saw. Yet the face is calm, her eyes +thrown up to heaven, but her lips undistorted, and the muscles of her +face, steeped as they are in suffering, still and natural. It is the +look of a soul overwhelmed--that has ceased to struggle because it is +full. Her gaze is on heaven, and in the abandonment of her limbs, and +the deep, but calm agony of her countenance, you see that nothing +between this and heaven can move her more. One suffers in seeing such +pictures. You go away exhausted, and with feelings harassed and +excited. + +As we returned, we passed the gates of the university. On the walls +were pasted a sonnet printed with some flourish, in honor of _Camillo +Rosalpina_, the laureate of one of the academical classes. + +We visited several of the churches in the afternoon. The cathedral and +the Duomo are glorious places--both. I wish I could convey, to minds +accustomed to the diminutive size and proportions of our churches in +America, an idea of the enormous and often almost supernatural +grandeur of those in Italy. Aisles in whose distance the figure of a +man is almost lost--pillars, whose bases you walk round in wonder, +stretching into the lofty vaults of the roof, as if they ended in the +sky--arches of gigantic dimensions, mingling and meeting with the fine +tracery of a cobweb--altars piled up on every side with gold, and +marble, and silver--private chapels ornamented with the wealth of +nobles, let into the sides, each large enough for a communion--and +through the whole extent of the interior, an unencumbered breadth of +floor, with here and there a solitary worshipper on his knees, or +prostrated on his face--figures so small in comparison with the +immense dome above them, that it seems as if, could distance drown a +prayer, they were as much lost as if they prayed under the open sky! +Without having even a leaning to the Catholic faith, I love to haunt +their churches, and I am not sure that the religious awe of the +sublime ceremonies and places of worship does not steal upon me daily. +Whenever I am heated, or fatigued, or out of spirits, I go into the +first cathedral, and sit down for an hour. They are always dark, and +cool, and quiet; and the distant tinkling of the bell from some +distant chapel and the grateful odor of the incense, and the low, +just audible murmur of prayer, settles on my feelings like a mist, and +softens and soothes and refreshes me, as nothing else will. The +Italian peasantry who come to the cities to sell or bargain, pass +their noons in these cool places. You see them on their knees asleep +against a pillar, or sitting in a corner, with their heads upon their +bosoms; and, if it were as a place of retreat and silence alone, the +churches are an inestimable blessing to them. It seems to me, that any +sincere Christian, of whatever faith, would find a pleasure in going +into a sacred place and sitting down in the heat of the day, to be +quiet and devotional for an hour. It would promote the objects of any +denomination in our country, I should think, if the churches were thus +left always open. + +Under the cathedral of Bologna is a _subterranean confession-chapel_ +--as singular and impressive a device as I ever saw. It is dark +like a cellar, the daylight faintly struggling through a painted +window above the altar, and the two solitary wax candles giving +a most ghastly intensity to the gloom. The floor is paved with +tombstones, the inscriptions and death's heads of which you feel under +your feet as you walk through. The roof is so vaulted that every tread +is reverberated endlessly in hollow tones. All around are the +confession-boxes, with the pierced plates, at which the priest within +puts his ear, worn with the lips of penitents, and at one of the sides +is a deep cave, far within which, as in a tomb, lies a representation +on limestone of our Saviour, bleeding as he came from the cross, with +the apostles, made of the same cadaverous material, hanging over him! + +We have happened, by a fortunate chance, upon an extraordinary day in +Bologna--a _festa_, that occurs but once in ten years. We went out as +usual after breakfast this morning, and found the city had been +decorated over-night in the most splendid and singular manner. The +arcades of some four or five streets in the centre of the town were +covered with rich crimson damask, the pillars completely bound, and +the arches dressed and festooned with a degree of gorgeousness and +taste as costly as it was magnificent. The streets themselves were +covered with cloths stretched above the second stories of the houses +from one side to the other, keeping off the sun entirely, and making +in each street one long tent of a mile or more, with two lines of +crimson columns at the sides, and festoons of gauze, of different +colors, hung from window to window in every direction. It was by far +the most splendid scene I ever saw. The people were all there in their +gayest dresses, and we probably saw in the course of the day every +woman in Bologna. My friends, the painters, give it the palm for +beauty over all the cities they had seen. There was a grand procession +in the morning, and in the afternoon the bands of the Austrian army +made the round of the decorated streets, playing most delightfully +before the principal houses. In the evening there was an illumination, +and we wandered up and down till midnight through the fairy scene, +almost literally "dazzled and drunk with beauty." + +The people of Bologna have a kind of earnest yet haughty courtesy, +very different from that of most of the Italians I have seen. They bow +to the stranger, as he enters the _cafe_; and if they rise before him, +the men raise their hats and the ladies smile and curtsy as they go +out; yet without the least familiarity which could authorize farther +approach to acquaintance. We have found the officers, whom we meet at +the eating-houses, particularly courteous. There is something +delightful in this universal acknowledgment of a stranger's claims on +courtesy and kindness. I could well wish it substituted in our +country, for the surly and selfish manners of people in public-houses +to each other. There is neither loss of dignity nor committal of +acquaintance in such attentions; and the manner in which a gentleman +steps forward to assist you in any difficulty of explanation in a +foreign tongue, or sends the waiter to you if you are neglected, or +hands you the newspaper or his snuff-box, or rises to give you room in +a crowded place, takes away, from me at least, all that painful sense +of solitude and neglect one feels as a stranger in a foreign land. + +We go to Ferrara to-morrow, and thence by the Po to Venice. My letter +must close for the present. + + + + +LETTER XXXI. + + VENICE--THE FESTA--GONDOLIERS--WOMEN--AN ITALIAN SUNSET--THE + LANDING--PRISONS OF THE DUCAL PALACE--THE CELLS DESCRIBED BY + BYRON--APARTMENT IN WHICH PRISONERS WERE STRANGLED--DUNGEONS + UNDER THE CANAL--SECRET GUILLOTINE--STATE CRIMINALS--BRIDGE OF + SIGHS--PASSAGE TO THE INQUISITION AND TO DEATH--CHURCH OF ST. + MARC--A NOBLEMAN IN POVERTY, ETC., ETC. + + +You will excuse me at present from a description of Venice. It is a +matter not to be hastily undertaken. It has also been already done a +thousand times; and I have just seen a beautiful sketch of it in the +public prints of the United States. I proceed with my letters. + +The Venetian _festa_ is a gay affair, as you may imagine. If not so +beautiful and fanciful as the revels by moonlight, it was more +satisfactory, for we could see and be seen, those important +circumstances to one's individual share in the amusement. At four +o'clock in the afternoon, the links of the long bridge of boats across +the Giudecca were cut away, and the broad canal left clear for a mile +up and down. It was covered in a few minutes with gondolas, and all +the gayety and fashion of Venice fell into the broad promenade between +the city and the festal island. I should think five hundred were quite +within the number of gondolas. You can scarcely fancy the novelty and +agreeableness of this singular promenade. It was busy work for the +eyes to the right and left, with the great proportion of beauty, and +the rapid glide of their fairy-like boats. And the _quietness_ of the +thing was so delightful--no crowding, no dust, no noise but the dash +of oars and the ring of merry voices; and we sat so luxuriously upon +our deep cushions the while, threading the busy crowd rapidly and +silently, without a jar or touch of anything but the yielding element +that sustained us. + +Two boats soon appeared with wreaths upon their prows, and these had +won the first and second prizes at the last year's _regatta_. The +private gondolas fell away from the middle of the canal, and left them +free space for a trial of their speed. They were the most airy things +I ever saw afloat, about forty feet long, and as slender and light as +they could well be, and hold together. Each boat had six oars, and the +crews stood with their faces to the beak of their craft; slight, but +muscular men, and with a skill and quickness at their oars which I had +never conceived. I realized the truth and the force of Cooper's +inimitable description of the race in the Bravo. The whole of his book +gives you the very air and spirit of Venice, and one thanks him +constantly for the lively interest which he has thrown over everything +in this bewitching city. The races of the rival boats to-day were not +a regular part of the _festa_, and were not regularly contested. The +gondoliers were exhibiting themselves merely, and the people soon +ceased to be interested in them. + +We rowed up and down till dark, following here and there the boats +whose freights attracted us, and exclaiming every moment at some new +glimpse of beauty. There is really a surprising proportion of +loveliness in Venice. The women are all large, probably from never +walking, and other indolent habits consequent upon want of exercise; +and an oriental air, sleepy and passionate, is characteristic of the +whole race. One feels that he has come among an entirely new class of +women, and hence, probably, the far-famed fascination of Venice to +foreigners. + +The sunset happened to be one of those so peculiar to Italy, and which +are richer and more enchanting in Venice than in any other part of it, +from the character of its scenery. It was a sunset without a cloud; +but at the horizon the sky was dyed of a deep orange, which softened +away toward the zenith almost imperceptibly, the whole west like a +wall of burning gold. The mingled softness and splendor of these skies +is indescribable. Everything is touched with the same hue. A mild, +yellow glow is all over the canals and buildings. The air seems filled +with glittering golden dust, and the lines of the architecture, and +the outlines of the distant islands, and the whole landscape about you +is mellowed and enriched with a new and glorious light. I have seen +one or two such sunsets in America; but there the sunsets are bolder +and clearer, and with much more sublimity--they have rarely the +voluptuous coloring of those in Italy. + +It was delightful to glide along over a sea of light so richly tinted, +among those graceful gondolas, with their freights of gayety and +beauty. As the glow on the sky began to fade, they all turned their +prows toward San Marc, and dropping into a slower motion, the whole +procession moved on together to the stairs of the piazzetta; and by +the time the twilight was perceptible, the _cafes_ were crowded, and +the square was like one great _fete_. We passed the evening in +wandering up and down, never for an instant feeling like strangers, +and excited and amused till long after midnight. + +After several days' delay, we received an answer this morning from the +authorities, with permission to see the bridge of sighs, and the +prisons of the ducal palace. We landed at the broad stairs, and +passing the desolate court, with its marble pillars and statues green +with damp and neglect, ascended the "giant's steps," and found the +warder waiting for us, with his enormous keys, at the door of a +private passage. At the bottom of a staircase we entered a close +gallery, from which the first range of cells opened. The doors were +broken down, and the guide holding his torch in them for a moment in +passing, showed us the same dismal interior in each--a mere cave, in +which you would hardly think it possible to breathe, with a raised +platform for a bed, and a small hole in the front wall to admit food +and what air could find its way through from the narrow passage. There +were eight of these; and descending another flight of damp steps, we +came to a second range, differing only from the first in their slimy +dampness. These are the cells of which Lord Byron gives a description +in the notes to the fourth canto of Childe Harold. He has transcribed, +if you remember, the inscription from the ceilings and walls of one +which was occupied successively by the victims of the Inquisition. The +letters are cut rudely enough, and must have been done entirely by +feeling, as there is no possibility of the penetration of a ray of +light. I copied them with some difficulty, forgetting that they were +in print, and, comparing them afterward with my copy of Childe Harold, +I found them exactly the same, and I refer you, therefore, to his +notes. + +In a range of cells still below these, and almost suffocating from +their closeness, one was shown us in which prisoners were strangled. +The rope was passed through an iron grating of four bars, the +executioner standing outside the cell. The prisoner within sat upon a +stone, with his back to the grating, and the cord was passed round his +neck, and drawn till he was choked. The wall of the cell was covered +with blood, which had spattered against it with some violence. The +guide explained it by saying, that owing to the narrowness of the +passage the executioner had no room to draw the cord, and to expedite +his business his assistant at the same time plunged a dagger into the +neck of the victim. The blood had flowed widely over the wall, and ran +to the floor in streams. With the darkness of the place, the +difficulty I found in breathing, and the frightful reality of the +scenes before me, I never had in my life a comparable sensation of +horror. + +At the end of the passage a door was walled up. It led, in the times +of the republic, to dungeons under the canal, in which the prisoner +died in eight days from his incarceration, at the farthest, from the +noisome dampness and unwholesome vapors of the place. The guide gave +us a harrowing description of the swelling of their bodies, and the +various agonies of their slow death. I hurried away from the place +with a sickness at my heart. In returning by the same way I passed the +turning, and stumbled over a raised stone across the passage. It was +the groove of a secret guillotine. Here many of the state and +inquisition victims were put to death in the darkness of a narrow +passage, shut out even in their last moment from the light and breath +of heaven. The frame of the instrument had been taken away; but the +pits in the wall, which had sustained the axe, were still there; and +the sink on the other side, where the head fell, to carry off the +blood. And these shocking executions took place directly before the +cells of the other prisoners, within twenty feet from the farthest. In +a cell close to this guillotine had been confined a state criminal for +sixteen years. He was released at last by the arrival of the French, +and on coming to the light in the square of San Marc was struck blind, +and died in a few days. In another cell we stopped to look at the +attempts of a prisoner upon its walls, interrupted, happily, by his +release. He had sawed several inches into the front wall, with some +miserable instrument, probably a nail. He had afterward abandoned +this, and had, with prodigious strength, taken up a block from the +floor; and, the guide assured us, had descended into the cell below. +It was curious to look around his pent prison, and see the patient +labor of years upon those rough walls, and imagine the workings of the +human mind in such a miserable lapse of existence. + +We ascended to the light again, and the guide led us to a massive +door, with two locks, secured by heavy iron bars. It swung open with a +scream, and we mounted a winding stair, and + + "Stood in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs." + +Two windows of close grating looked on either side upon the long canal +below, and let in the only light to the covered passage. It is a +gloomy place within, beautifully as its light arch hangs in the air +from without. It was easy to employ the imagination as we stood on the +stone where Childe Harold had stood before us, and conjured up in +fancy the despair and agony that must have been pressed into the last +glance at light and life that had been sent through those barred +windows. Across this bridge the condemned were brought to receive +their sentence in the Chamber of the _Ten_, or to be confronted with +bloody inquisitors, and then were led back over it to die. The last +light that ever gladdened their eyes came through those close bars, +and the gay Giudecca in the distance, with its lively waters covered +with boats, must have made that farewell glance to a Venetian bitter +indeed. The side next the prison is now massively walled up. We +stayed, silently musing at the windows, till the old cicerone ventured +to remind us that his time was precious. + +Ordering the gondola round to the stairs of the piazetta, we strolled +for the first time into the church of San Marc. The four famous bronze +horses stood with their dilated nostrils and fine action over the +porch, bringing back to us Andrea Doria, and his threat; and as I +remembered the ruined palace of the old admiral at Genoa, and glanced +at the Austrian soldier upon guard, in the very shadow of the winged +lion, I could not but feel most impressively the moral of the +contrast. The lesson was not attractive enough, however, to keep us in +a burning sun, and we put aside the heavy folds of the drapery and +entered. How deliciously cool are these churches in Italy! We walked +slowly up toward the distant altar. An old man rose from the base of +one of the pillars, and put out his hand for charity. It is an +incident that meets one at every step, and with half a glance at his +face I passed on. I was looking at the rich mosaic on the roof, but +his features lingered in my mind. They grew upon me still more +strongly; and as I became aware of the full expression of misery and +pride upon them, I turned about to see what had become of him. My two +friends had done each the very same thing, with the same feeling of +regret, and were talking of the old man when I came back to them. We +went to the door, and looked all about the square, but he was no where +to be seen. It is singular that he should have made the same +impression upon all of us, of an old Venetian nobleman in poverty. +Slight as my glance was, the noble expression of sadness about his +fine white head and strong features, are still indelible in my memory. +The prophecy which Byron puts into the mouth of the condemned Doge, is +still true in every particular:-- + + ----"When the Hebrew's in thy palaces, + The Hun in thy high places, and the Greek + Walks o'er thy mart, and smiles on it for his; + When _thy patricians beg their bitter bread_," &c. + +The church of San Marc is rich to excess, and its splendid mosaic +pavement is sunk into deep pits with age and the yielding foundations +on which its heavy pile is built. Its pictures are not so fine as +those of the other churches of Venice, but its age and historic +associations make it by far the most interesting. + + + + +LETTER XXXII. + + VENICE--SCENES BY MOONLIGHT--THE CANALS--THE ARMENIAN + ISLAND--THE ISLAND OF THE INSANE--IMPROVEMENTS MADE BY + NAPOLEON--SHADED WALKS--PAVILION AND ARTIFICIAL + HILL--ANTIDOTES TO SADNESS--PARTIES ON THE CANALS--NARROW + STREETS AND SMALL BRIDGES--THE RIALTO--MERCHANTS AND + IDLERS--SHELL-WORK AND JEWELRY--POETRY AND HISTORY--GENERAL + VIEW OF THE CITY--THE FRIULI MOUNTAINS--THE SHORE OF ITALY--A + SILENT PANORAMA--THE ADRIATIC--PROMENADERS AND SITTERS, ETC. + + +We stepped into the gondola to-night as the shadows of the moon began +to be perceptible, with orders to Giuseppe to take us where he would. +_Abroad in a summer's moonlight in Venice_, is a line that might never +be written but as the scene of a play. You can not miss pleasure. If +it were only the tracking silently and swiftly the bosom of the +broader canals lying asleep like streets of molten silver between the +marble palaces, or shooting into the dark shadows of the narrower, +with the black spirit-like gondolas gliding past, or lying in the +shelter of a low and not unoccupied balcony; or did you but loiter on +in search of music, lying unperceived beneath the windows of a palace, +and listening, half asleep, to the sound of the guitar and the song of +the invisible player within; this, with the strange beauty of every +building about you, and the loveliness of the magic lights and +shadows, were enough to make a night of pleasure, even were no charm +of personal adventure to be added to the enumeration. + +We glided along under the Rialto, talking of Belvidera, and Othello, +and Shylock, and, entering a cross canal, cut the arched shadow of the +Bridge of Sighs, hanging like a cobweb in the air, and shot in a +moment forth to the full, ample, moonlit bosom of the Giudecca. This +is the canal that makes the harbor and washes the stairs of San Marc. +The Lido lay off at a mile's distance across the water, and, with the +moon riding over it, the bay between us as still as the sky above, and +brighter, it looked like a long cloud pencilled like a landscape in +the heavens. To the right lay the Armenian island, which Lord Byron +visited so often, to study with the fathers at the convent; and, a +little nearer the island of the Insane--spite of its misery, asleep, +with a most heavenly calmness on the sea. You remember the touching +story of the crazed girl, who was sent here with a broken heart, +described as putting her hand through the grating at the dash of every +passing gondola, with her unvarying and affecting "_Venite per me? +Venite per me?_" + +At a corner of the harbor, some three quarters of a mile from San +Marc, lies an island once occupied by a convent. Napoleon rased the +buildings, and connecting it with the town by a new, handsome street +and a bridge, laid out the ground as a public garden. We debarked at +the stairs, and passed an hour in strolling through shaded walks, +filled with the gay Venetians, who come to enjoy here what they find +nowhere else, the smell of grass and green leaves. There is a pavilion +upon an artificial hill in the centre, where the best lemonades and +ices of Venice are to be found; and it was surrounded to-night by +merry groups, amusing themselves with all the heart-cheering gayety of +this delightful people. The very sight of them is an antidote to +sadness. + +In returning to San Marc a large gondola crossed us, filled with +ladies and gentlemen, and followed by another with a band of music. +This is a common mode of making a party on the canals, and a more +agreeable one never was imagined. We ordered the gondolier to follow +at a certain distance, and spent an hour or two just keeping within +the softened sound of the instruments. How romantic are the veriest, +every-day occurrences of this enchanting city. + +We have strolled to-day through most of the narrow streets between the +Rialto and the San Marc. They are, more properly, alleys. You wind +through them at sharp angles, turning constantly, from the +interruption of the canals, and crossing the small bridges at every +twenty yards. They are dark and cool; and no hoof of any description +ever passing through them, the marble flags are always smooth and +clean; and with the singular silence, only broken by the shuffling of +feet, they are pleasant places to loiter in at noon-day, when the +canals are sunny. + +We spent a half hour on the _Rialto_. This is the only bridge across +the grand canal, and connects the two main parts of the city. It is, +as you see by engravings, a noble span of a single arch, built of pure +white marble. You pass it, ascending the arch by a long flight of +steps to the apex, and descending again to the opposite side. It is +very broad, the centre forming a street, with shops on each side, +with alleys outside these, next the parapet, usually occupied by +idlers or merchants, probably very much as in the time of Shylock. +Here are exposed the cases of shell-work and jewelry for which Venice +is famous. The variety and cheapness of these articles are surprising. +The Rialto has always been to me, as it is probably to most others, +quite the core of romantic locality. I stopped on the upper stair of +the arch, and passed my hand across my eyes to recall my idea of it, +and realize that I was there. One is disappointed, spite of all the +common sense in the world, not to meet Shylock and Antonio and Pierre. + + "Shylock and the Moor + And Pierre cannot be swept or worn away," + +says Childe Harold; and that, indeed, is the feeling everywhere in +these romantic countries. You cannot separate them from the characters +with which poetry or history once peopled them. + +At sunset we mounted into the tower of San Marc, to get a general view +of the city. The gold-dust atmosphere, so common in Italy at this +hour, was all over the broad lagunes and the far stretching city; and +she lay beneath us, in the midst of a sea of light, an island far out +into the ocean, crowned with towers and churches, and heaped up with +all the splendors of architecture. The Friuli mountains rose in the +north with the deep blue dyes of distance, breaking up the else level +horizon; the shore of Italy lay like a low line-cloud in the west; the +spot where the Brenta empties into the sea glowing in the blaze of the +sunset. About us lay the smaller islands, the suburbs of the sea-city, +and all among them, and up and down the Giudecca, and away off in the +lagunes, were sprinkled the thousand gondolas, meeting and crossing +in one continued and silent panorama. The Lido, with its long wall +hemmed in the bay, and beyond this lay the wide Adriatic. The floor of +San Marc's vast square was beneath, dotted over its many-colored +marbles with promenaders, its _cafes_ swarmed by the sitters outside, +and its long arcades thronged. One of my pleasantest hours in Venice +was passed here. + + + + +LETTER XXXIII. + + PALACES--PALAZZO GRIMANI--OLD STATUARY--MALE AND FEMALE + CHERUBS--THE BATH OF CLEOPATRA--TITIAN'S PALACE--UNFINISHED + PICTURE OF THE GREAT MASTER--HIS MAGDALEN AND BUST--HIS + DAUGHTER IN THE ARMS OF A SATYR--BEAUTIFUL FEMALE HEADS--THE + CHURCHES OF VENICE--BURIAL-PLACES OF THE DOGES--TOMB OF + CANOVA--DEPARTURE FOR VERONA, ETC. + + +We have passed a day in visiting palaces. There are some eight or ten +in Venice, whose galleries are still splendid. We landed first at the +stairs of the _Palazzo Grimani_, and were received by an old family +servant, who sat leaning on his knees, and gazing idly into the canal. +The court and staircase were ornamented with statuary, that had not +been moved for centuries. In the ante-room was a fresco painting by +Georgione, in which there were two _female_ cherubs, the first of that +sex I ever saw represented. They were beautifully contrasted with the +two male cherubs, who completed the picture, and reminded me strongly +of Greenough's group in sculpture. After examining several rooms, +tapestried and furnished in such a style as befitted the palace of a +Venetian noble, when Venice was in her glory, we passed on to the +gallery. The best picture in the first room was a large one by Cigoli, +_the bath of Cleopatra_. The four attendants of the fair Egyptian are +about her, and one is bathing her feet from a rich vase. Her figure is +rather a voluptuous one, and her head is turned, but without alarm, to +Antony, who is just putting aside the curtain and entering the room. +It is a piece of fine coloring, rather of the Titian school, and one +of the few good pictures left by the English, who have bought up +almost all the private galleries of Venice. + +We stopped next at the stairs of the noble old _Barberigo_ Palace, in +which Titian lived and died. We mounted the decaying staircases, +imagining the choice spirits of the great painter's time, who had +trodden them before us, and (as it was for ages the dwelling of one of +the proudest races of Venice) the beauty and rank that had swept up +and down those worn slabs of marble on nights of revel, in the days +when Venice was a paradise of splendid pleasure. How thickly come +romantic fancies in such a place as this. We passed through halls hung +with neglected pictures to an inner room, occupied only with those of +Titian. Here he painted, and here is a picture half finished, as he +left it when he died. His famous _Magdalen_, hangs on the wall, +covered with dirt; and so, indeed, is everything in the palace. The +neglect is melancholy. On a marble table stood a plaster bust of +Titian, moulded by himself in his old age. It is a most noble head, +and it is difficult to look at it, and believe he could have painted a +picture which hangs just against it--_his own daughter in the arms of +a satyr_. There is an engraving from it in one of the souvenirs; but +instead of a satyr's head, she holds a casket in her hands, which, +though it does not sufficiently account for the delight of her +countenance, is an improvement upon the original. Here, too, are +several slight sketches of female heads, by the same master. Oh how +beautiful they are! There is one, less than the size of life, which I +would rather have than his Magdalen. + + * * * * * + +I have spent my last day in Venice in visiting churches. Their +splendor makes the eye ache and the imagination weary. You would think +the surplus wealth of half the empires of the world would scarce +suffice to fill them as they are. I can give you no descriptions. The +gorgeous tombs of the Doges are interesting, and the plain black +monument over Marino Faliero made me linger. Canova's tomb is +splendid; and the simple slab under your feet in the church of the +Frari, where Titian lies with his brief epitaph, is affecting--but, +though I shall remember all these, the simplest as well as the +grandest, a description would be wearisome to all who had not seen +them. This evening at sunset I start in the post-boat for the +mainland, on my way to the place of Juliet's tomb--Verona. My friends, +the painters, are so attracted with the galleries here that they +remain to copy, and I go back alone. Take a short letter from me this +time, and expect to hear from me by the next earliest opportunity, and +more at length. Adieu. + + + + +LETTER XXXIV. + + DEPARTURE FROM VENICE--A SUNSET SCENE--PADUA--SPLENDID + HOTEL--MANNERS OF THE COUNTRY--VICENZA--MIDNIGHT--LADY + RETURNING FROM A PARTY--VERONA--JULIET'S TOMB--THE TOMB OF THE + CAPULETS--THE TOMBS OF THE SCALIGERS--TWO GENTLEMEN OF + VERONA--A WALKING CHRONICLE--PALACE OF THE CAPULETS--ONLY COOL + PLACE IN AN ITALIAN CITY--BANQUETING HALL OF THE + CAPULETS--FACTS AND FICTION, ETC. + + +We pushed from the post-office stairs in a gondola with six oars at +sunset. It was melancholy to leave Venice. A hasty farewell look, as +we sped down the grand canal, at the gorgeous palaces, even less +famous than beautiful--a glance at the disappearing Rialto, and we +shot out into the Giudecca in a blaze of sunset glory. Oh how +magnificently looked Venice in that light--rising behind us from the +sea--all her superb towers and palaces, turrets and spires, fused into +gold; and the waters about her, like a mirror of stained glass, +without a ripple! + +An hour and a half of hard rowing brought us to the nearest land. You +should go to Venice to know how like a dream a reality may be. You +will find it difficult to realize, when you smell once more the fresh +earth and grass and flowers, and walk about and see fields and +mountains, that this city upon the sea exists out of the imagination. +You float to it and about it and from it, in their light craft, so +aerially, that it seems a vision. + +With a drive of two or three hours, half twilight, half moonlight, we +entered _Padua_. It was too late to see the portrait of Petrarch, and +I had not time to go to his tomb at Arqua, twelve miles distant, so, +musing on Livy and Galileo, to both of whom Padua was a home, I +inquired for a _cafe_. A new one had lately been built in the centre +of the town, quite the largest and most thronged I ever saw. Eight or +ten large, high-roofed halls were open, and filled with tables, at +which sat more beauty and fashion than I supposed all Padua could have +mustered. I walked through one after another, without finding a seat, +and was about turning to go out, and seek a place of less pretension, +when an elderly lady, who sat with a party of seven, eating ices, +rose, with Italian courtesy, and offered me a chair at their table. I +accepted it, and made the acquaintance of eight as agreeable and +polished people as it has been my fortune to meet. We parted as if we +had known each other as many weeks as minutes. I mention it as an +instance of the manners of the country. + +Three hours more, through spicy fields and on a road lined with the +country-houses of the Venetian nobles, brought us to _Vicenza_. It was +past midnight, and not a soul stirring in the bright moonlit streets. +I remember it as a kind of city of the dead. As we passed out of the +opposite gate, we detained for a moment a carriage, with servants in +splendid liveries, and a lady inside returning from a party, in full +dress. I have rarely seen so beautiful a head. The lamps shone +strongly on a broad pearl fillet on her forehead, and lighted up +features such as we do not often meet even in Italy. A gentleman +leaned back in the corner of the carriage, fast asleep--probably her +husband! + + * * * * * + +I breakfasted at _Verona_ at seven. A humpbacked _cicerone_ there took +me to "Juliet's tomb." A very high wall, green with age, surrounds +what was once a cemetery, just outside the city. An old woman answered +the bell at the dilapidated gate, and, without saying a word, pointed +to an empty granite sarcophagus, raised upon a rude pile of stones. +"Questa?" asked I, with a doubtful look. "Questa," said the old woman. +"Questa!" said the hunchback. And here, I was to believe, lay the +gentle Juliet! There was a raised place in the sarcophagus, with a +hollowed socket for the head, and it was about the measure for a +woman! I ran my fingers through the cavity, and tried to imagine the +dark curls that covered the hand of Father Lawrence as he laid her +down in the trance, and fitted her beautiful head softly to the place. +But where was "the tomb of the Capulets?" The beldame took me through +a cabbage-garden, and drove off a donkey who was feeding on an +artichoke that grew on the very spot. "Ecco!" said she, pointing to +one of the slightly sunken spots on the surface. I deferred my belief, +and paying an extra paul for the privilege of chipping off a fragment +of the stone coffin, followed the cicerone. + +The _tombs of the Scaligers_ were more authentic. They stand in the +centre of the town, with a highly ornamental railing about them, and +are a perfect mockery of death with their splendor. If the poets and +scholars whom these petty princes drew to their court had been buried +in these airy tombs beside them, one would look at them with some +interest. _Now_, one asks, "who were the Scaligers, that their bodies +should be lifted high in air in the midst of a city, and kept for +ages, in marble and precious stones?" With less ostentation, however, +it were pleasant to be so disposed of after death, lifted thus into +the sun, and in sight of moving and living creatures. + +I inquired for the old palace of the Capulets. The cicerone knew +nothing about it, and I dismissed her and went into a _cafe_. "Two +gentlemen of Verona" sat on different sides; one reading, the other +asleep, with his chin on his cane--an old, white-headed man, of about +seventy. I sat down near the old gentleman, and by the time I had +eaten my ice, he awoke. I addressed him in Italian, which I speak +indifferently; but, stumbling for a word, he politely helped me out in +French, and I went on in that language with my inquiries. He was the +very man--a walking chronicle of Verona. He took up his hat and cane +to conduct me to _casa Capuletti_, and on the way told me the true +history, as I had heard it before, which differs but little, as you +know, from Shakspeare's version. The whole story is in the annuals. + +After a half hour's walk among the handsomer, and more modern parts of +the city, we stopped opposite a house of an antique construction, but +newly stuccoed and painted. A wheelwright occupied the lower story, +and by the sign, the upper part was used as a tavern. "Impossible!" +said I, as I looked at the fresh front and the staring sign. The old +gentleman smiled, and kept his cane pointed at it in silence. "It is +well authenticated," said he, after enjoying my astonishment a minute +or two, "and the interior still bears marks of a palace." We went in +and mounted the dirty staircase to a large hall on the second floor. +The frescoes and cornices had not been touched, and I invited my kind +old friend to an early dinner on the spot. He accepted, and we went +back to the cathedral, and sat an hour in the only cool place in an +Italian city. The best dinner the house could afford was ready when we +returned, and a pleasanter one it has never been my fortune to sit +down to; though, for the meats, I have eaten better. That I relished +an hour in the very hall where the masque must have been held, to +which Romeo ventured in the house of his enemy, to see the fair +Juliet, you may easily believe. The wine was not so bad, either, that +my imagination did not warm all fiction into fact; and another time, +perhaps, I may describe my old friend and the dinner more +particularly. + + + + +LETTER XXXV. + + ANOTHER SHORT LETTER--DEPARTURE FROM VERONA--MANTUA--FLEAS-- + FLEAS--MODENA--TASSONI'S BUCKET--A MAN GOING TO EXECUTION--THE + DUKE OF MODENA--BOLOGNA--AUSTRIAN OFFICERS--THE APPENINES-- + MOONLIGHT ON THE MOUNTAINS--ENGLISH BRIDAL PARTY--PICTURESQUE + SUPPER, ETC. + + +I left Verona with the courier at sunset, and was at _Mantua_ in a few +hours. I went to bed in a dirty hotel, the best in the place, and +awoke, bitten at every pore by fleas--the first I have encountered in +Italy, strange as it may seem, in a country that swarms with them. For +the next twenty-four hours I was in such positive pain that my +interest in "Virgil's birthplace" quite evaporated. I hired a +_caleche_, and travelled all night to _Modena_. + +I liked the town as I drove in, and after sleeping an hour or two, I +went out in search of "Tassoni's bucket" (which Rogers says _is not +the true one_), and the picture of "_Ginevra_." The first thing I met +was a man going to execution. He was a tall, exceedingly handsome man; +and, I thought, a marked gentleman, even in his fetters. He was one of +the body-guard of the duke, and had joined a conspiracy against him, +in which he had taken the first step by firing at him from a window +as he passed. I saw him guillotined, but I will spare you the +description. The duke is the worst tyrant in Italy, it is well known, +and has been fired at _eighteen times_ in the streets. So said the +cicerone, who added, that "the d----l took care of his own." After +many fruitless inquiries, I could find nothing of "the picture," and I +took my place for Bologna in the afternoon. + +I was at Bologna at ten the next morning. As I felt rather indisposed, +I retained my seat with the courier for Florence; and, hungry with +travel and a long fast, went into a _restaurant_, to make the best use +of the hour given me for refreshment. A party of Austrian officers sat +at one end of the only table, breakfasting; and here I experienced the +first rudeness I have seen in Europe. I mention it to show its rarity, +and the manner in which, even among military men, a quarrel is guarded +against or prevented. A young man, who seemed the wit of the party, +chose to make comments from time to time on the solidity of what he +considered my breakfast. These became at last so pointed, that I was +compelled to rise and demand an apology. With one voice, all except +the offender, immediately sided with me, and insisted on the justice +of the demand, with so many apologies of their own, that I regretted +noticing the thing at all. The young man rose, after a minute, and +offered me his hand in the frankest manner; and then calling for a +fresh bottle, they drank wine with me, and I went back to my +breakfast. In America, such an incident would have ended, nine times +out of ten, in a duel. + +The two mounted _gens d'armes_, who usually attend the courier at +night, joined us as we began to ascend the Appenines. We stopped at +eleven to sup on the highest mountain between Bologna and Florence, +and I was glad to get to the kitchen fire, the clear moonlight was so +cold. Chickens were turning on the long spit, and sounds of high +merriment came from the rooms above. A _bridal party_ of English had +just arrived, and every chamber and article of provision was engaged. +They had nothing to give us. A compliment to the hostess and a bribe +to the cook had their usual effect, however; and as one of the +dragoons had ridden back a mile or two for my travelling cap, which +had dropped off while I was asleep, I invited them both, with the +courier, to share my bribed supper. The cloth was spread right before +the fire, on the same table with all the cook's paraphernalia, and a +merry and picturesque supper we had of it. The rough Tuscan flasks of +wine and Etruscan pitchers, the brazen helmets formed on the finest +models of the antique, the long mustaches, and dark Italian eyes of +the men, all in the bright light of a blazing fire, made a picture +that Salvator Rosa would have relished. We had time for a hasty song +or two after the dishes were cleared, and then went gayly on our way +to Florence. + +Excuse the brevity of this epistle, but I must stop here, or lose the +opportunity of sending. If my letters do not reach you with the utmost +regularity, it is no fault of mine. You can not imagine the difficulty +I frequently experience in getting a safe conveyance. + + + + +LETTER XXXVI. + + BATHS OF LUCCA--SARATOGA OF ITALY--HILL SCENERY--RIVER + LIMA--FASHIONABLE LODGINGS--THE VILLA--THE DUKE'S PALACE-- + MOUNTAINS--VALLEYS--COTTAGES--PEASANTS--WINDING-PATHS-- + AMUSEMENTS--PRIVATE PARTIES--BALLS--FETES--A CASINO--ORIGINALS + OF SCOTT'S DIANA VERNON AND THE MISS PRATT OF THE + INHERITANCE--A SUMMER IN ITALY, ETC., ETC. + + +I spent a week at the baths of Lucca, which is about sixty miles north +of Florence, and the Saratoga of Italy. None of the cities are +habitable in summer, for the heat, and there flocks all the world to +bathe and keep cool by day, and dance and intrigue by night, from +spring to autumn. It is very like the month of June in our country in +many respects, and the differences are not disagreeable. The scenery +is the finest of its kind in Italy. The whole village is built about a +bridge across the river Lima, which meets the Serchio a half mile +below. On both sides of the stream the mountains rise so abruptly, +that the houses are erected against them, and from the summits on both +sides you look directly down on the street. Half-way up one of the +hills stands a cluster of houses, overlooking the valley to fine +advantage, and these are rather the most fashionable lodgings. Round +the base of this mountain runs the Lima, and on its banks for a mile +is laid out a superb road, at the extremity of which is another +cluster of buildings, called the Villa, composed of the duke's palace +and baths, and some fifty lodging-houses. This, like the pavilion at +Saratoga, is usually occupied by invalids and people of more retired +habits. I have found no hill scenery in Europe comparable to the baths +of Lucca. The mountains ascend so sharply and join so closely, that +two hours of the sun are lost, morning and evening, and the heat is +very little felt. The valley is formed by four or five small +mountains, which are clothed from the base to the summit with the +finest chestnut woods; and dotted over with the nest-like cottages of +the Luccese peasants, the smoke from which, morning and evening, +breaks through the trees, and steals up to the summits with an effect +than which a painter could not conceive anything more beautiful. It is +quite a little paradise; and with the drives along the river on each +side at the mountain foot, and the trim winding-paths in the hills, +there is no lack of opportunity for the freest indulgence of a love of +scenery or amusement. + +Instead of living as we do in great hotels, the people at these baths +take their own lodgings, three or four families in a house, and meet +in their drives and walks, or in small exclusive parties. The Duke +gives a ball every Tuesday, to which all respectable strangers are +invited; and while I was there an Italian prince, who married into the +royal family of Spain, gave a grand _fete_ at the theatre. There is +usually some party every night, and with the freedom of a +watering-place, they are rather the pleasantest I have seen in Italy. +The Duke's chamberlain, an Italian cavalier, has the charge of a +_casino_, or public hall, which is open day and night for +conversation, dancing and play. The Italians frequent it very much, +and it is free to all well-dressed people; and as there is always a +band of music, the English sometimes make up a party and spend the +evening there in dancing or promenading. It is maintained at the +Duke's expense, lights, music, and all, and he finds his equivalent in +the profits of the gambling-bank. + +I scarce know who of the distinguished people I met there would +interest you. The village was full of coroneted carriages, whose +masters were nobles of every nation, and every reputation. The +originals of two well-known characters happened to be there--Scott's +_Diana Vernon_, and the _Miss Pratt_ of the Inheritance. The former is +a Scotch lady, with five or six children; a tall, superb woman still, +with the look of a mountain-queen, who rode out every night with two +gallant boys mounted on ponies, and dashing after her with the spirit +you would bespeak for the sons of Die Vernon. Her husband was the best +horseman there, and a "has been" handsome fellow, of about forty-five. +An Italian abbe came up to her one night, at a small party, and told +her he "wondered the king of England did not marry her." "Miss Pratt" +was the companion of an English lady of fortune, who lived on the +floor below me. She was still what she used to be, a much-laughed-at +but much-sought person, and it was quite requisite to know her. She +flew into a passion whenever the book was named. The rest of the world +there was very much what it is elsewhere--a medley of agreeable and +disagreeable, intelligent and stupid, elegant and awkward. The _women_ +were perhaps superior in style and manner to those ordinarily met in +such places in America, and the _men_ vastly inferior. It is so +wherever I have been on the continent. + +I remained at the baths a few weeks, recruiting--for the hot weather +and travel had, for the first time in my life, worn upon me. They say +that a summer in Italy is equal to five years elsewhere, in its +ravages upon the constitution, and so I found it. + + + + +LETTER XXXVII. + + RETURN TO VENICE--CITY OF LUCCA--A MAGNIFICENT WALL--A + CULTIVATED AND LOVELY COUNTRY--A COMFORTABLE PALACE--THE DUKE + AND DUCHESS OF LUCCA--THE APPENINES--MOUNTAIN SCENERY-- + MODENA--VIEW OF AN IMMENSE PLAIN--VINEYARDS AND FIELDS-- + AUSTRIAN TROOPS--A PETTY DUKE AND A GREAT TYRANT--SUSPECTED + TRAITORS--LADIES UNDER ARREST--MODENESE NOBILITY--SPLENDOR AND + MEANNESS--CORREGIO'S BAG OF COPPER COIN--PICTURE GALLERY-- + CHIEF OF THE CONSPIRATORS--OPPRESSIVE LAWS--ANTIQUITY-- + MUSEUM--BOLOGNA--MANUSCRIPTS OF TASSO AND ARIOSTO--THE + PO--AUSTRIAN CUSTOM-HOUSE--POLICE OFFICERS--DIFFICULTY ON + BOARD THE STEAMBOAT--VENICE ONCE MORE, ETC. + + +After five or six weeks _sejour_ at the baths of Lucca, the only +exception to the pleasure of which was an attack of the "country +fever," I am again on the road, with a pleasant party, bound for +Venice; but passing by cities I had not seen, I have been from one +place to another for a week, till I find myself to-day in Modena--a +place I might as well not have seen at all as to have hurried +through, as I was compelled to do a month or two since. To go back a +little, however, our first stopping-place was the city of Lucca, about +fifteen miles from the baths; a little, clean, beautiful gem of a +town, with a wall three miles round only, and on the top of it a broad +carriage road, giving you on every side views of the best cultivated +and loveliest country in Italy. The traveller finds nothing so rural +and quiet, nothing so happy-looking, in the whole land. The radius to +the horizon is nowhere more than five or six miles; and the bright +green farms and luxuriant vineyards stretch from the foot of the wall +to the summits of the lovely mountains which form the theatre around. +It is a very ancient town, but the duchy is so rich and flourishing +that it bears none of the marks of decay, so common to even more +modern towns in Italy. Here Caesar is said to have stopped to +deliberate on passing the Rubicon. + +The palace of the Duke is the _prettiest_ I ever saw. There is not a +room in it you could not _live_ in--and no feeling is less common than +this in visiting palaces. It is furnished with splendor, too--but with +such an eye to comfort, such taste and elegance, that you would +respect the prince's affections that should order such a one. The Duke +of Lucca, however, is never at home. He is a young man of twenty-eight +or thirty, and spends his time and money in travelling, as caprice +takes him. He has been now for a year at Vienna, where he spends the +revenue of these rich plains most lavishly. The Duchess, too, travels +always, but in a different direction, and the people complain loudly +of the desertion. For many years they have now been both absent and +parted. The Duke is a member of the royal family of Spain, and at the +death of Maria Louisa of Parma, he becomes Duke of Parma, and the +duchy goes to Tuscany. + +From Lucca we crossed the Appenines, by a road seldom travelled, +performing the hundred miles to Modena in three days. We suffered, as +all must who leave the high roads in continental countries, more +privations than the novelty was worth. The mountain scenery was fine, +of course, but I think less so than that on the passes between +Florence and Bologna, the account of which I wrote a few weeks since. +We were too happy to get to Modena. + +Modena lies in the vast campagna lying between the Appenines and the +Adriatic--an immense plain looking like the sea as far as the eye can +stretch from north to south. The view of it from the mountains in +descending is magnificent beyond description. The capital of the +little duchy lay in the midst of us, like a speck on a green carpet, +and smaller towns and rivers varied its else unbroken surface of +vineyards and fields. We reached the gates just as a fine sunset was +reddening the ramparts and towers, and giving up our passports to the +soldier on guard, rattled into the hotel. + +The town is full of Austrian troops, and in our walk to the ducal +palace we met scarce any one else. The streets look gloomy and +neglected, and the people singularly dispirited and poor. This petty +Duke of Modena is a man of about fifty, and said to be the greatest +tyrant, after Don Miguel, in the world. The prisons are full of +suspected traitors; one hundred and thirty of the best families of the +duchy are banished for liberal opinions; three hundred and over are +now under arrest (among them a considerable number of ladies); and +many of the Modenese nobility are now serving in the galleys for +conspiracy. He has been shot at eighteen times. The last man who +attempted it, as I stated in a former letter, was executed the morning +I passed through Modena on my return from Venice. With all this he is +a fine soldier, and his capital looks in all respects like a garrison +in the first style of discipline. He is just now absent at a chateau +three miles in the country. + +The palace is a union of splendor and meanness within. The endless +succession of state apartments are gorgeously draped and ornamented, +but the entrance halls and intermediate passages are furnished with an +economy you would scarce find exceeded in the "worst inn's worst +room." Modena is Corregio's birthplace, and it was from a Duke of +Modena that he received the bag of copper coin which occasioned his +death. It was, I think, the meagre reward of his celebrated "Night," +and he broke a blood-vessel in carrying it to his house. The Duke has +sold this picture, as well as every other sufficiently celebrated to +bring a princely price. His gallery is a heap of trash, with but here +and there a redeeming thing. Among others, there is a portrait of a +boy, I think by Rembrandt, very intellectual and lofty, yet with all +the youthfulness of fourteen; and a copy of "Giorgione's mistress," +the "love in life" of the Manfrini palace, so admired by Lord Byron. +There is also a remarkably fine crucifixion, I forget by whom. + +The front of the palace is renowned for its beauty. In a street near +it, we passed a house half battered down by cannon. It was the +residence of the chief of a late conspiracy, who was betrayed a few +hours before his plot was ripe. He refused to surrender, and, before +the ducal troops had mastered his house, the revolt commenced and the +Duke was driven from Modena. He returned in a week or two with some +three thousand Austrians, and has kept possession by their assistance +ever since. While we were waiting dinner at the hotel, I took up a +volume of the Modenese law, and opened upon a statute forbidding all +subjects of the duchy to live out of the Duke's territories under pain +of the entire confiscation of their property. They are liable to +arrest, also, if it is suspected that they are taking measures to +remove. The alternatives are oppression here or poverty elsewhere, and +the result is that the Duke has scarce a noble left in his realm. + +Modena is a place of great antiquity. It was a strong-hold in the time +of Caesar, and after his death was occupied by Brutus, and besieged by +Antony. There are no traces left, except some mutilated and uncertain +relics in the museum. + +We drove to Bologna the following morning, and I slept once more in +Rogers's chamber at "the Pilgrim." I have described this city, which I +passed on my way to Venice, so fully before, that I pass it over now +with the mere mention. I should not forget, however, my acquaintance +with a snuffy little librarian, who showed me the manuscripts of Tasso +and Ariosto, with much amusing importance. + +We crossed the Po to the Austrian custom-house. Our trunks were turned +inside out, our papers and books examined, our passports studied for +flaws--as usual. After two hours of vexation, we were permitted to go +on board the steamboat, thanking Heaven that our troubles were over +for a week or two, and giving Austria the common benediction she gets +from travellers. The ropes were cast off from the pier when a police +retainer came running to the boat, and ordered our whole party on +shore, bag and baggage. Our passports, which had been retained to be +sent on to Venice by the captain, were irregular. We had not passed +by Florence, and they had not the signature of the Austrian +ambassador. We were ordered imperatively back over the Po, with a flat +assurance, that, without first going to Florence, we never could see +Venice. To the ladies of the party, who had made themselves certain of +seeing this romance of cities in twelve hours, it was a sad +disappointment, and after seeing them safely seated in the return +shallop, I thought I would go and make a desperate appeal to the +commissary in person. My nominal commission as _attache_ to the +Legation at Paris, served me in this case as it had often done before, +and making myself and the honor of the American nation responsible for +the innocent designs of a party of ladies upon Venice, the dirty and +surly commissary signed our passports and permitted us to remand our +baggage. + +It was with unmingled pleasure that I saw again the towers and palaces +of Venice rising from the sea. The splendid approach to the Piazzetta; +the transfer to the gondola and its soft motion; the swift and still +glide beneath the balconies of palaces, with whose history I was +familiar; and the renewal of my own first impressions in the surprise +and delight of others, made up, altogether, a moment of high +happiness. There is nothing like--nothing equal to Venice. She is the +city of the imagination--the realization of romance--the queen of +splendor and softness and luxury. Allow all her decay--feel all her +degradation--see the "Huns in her palaces," and the "Greek upon her +mart," and, after all, she is alone in the world for beauty, and, +spoiled as she has been by successive conquerors, almost for riches +too. Her churches of marble, with their floors of precious stones, and +walls of gold and mosaic; her ducal palace, with its world of art and +massy magnificence; her private palaces, with their fronts of inland +gems, and balconies and towers of inimitable workmanship and riches; +her lovely islands and mirror-like canals--all distinguish her, and +will till the sea rolls over her, as one of the wonders of time. + + + + +LETTER XXXVIII. + + VENICE--CHURCH OF THE JESUITS--A MARBLE CURTAIN--ORIGINAL OF + TITIAN'S MARTYRDOM OF ST. LAWRENCE--A SUMMER MORNING--ARMENIAN + ISLAND--VISIT TO A CLOISTER--A CELEBRATED MONK--THE POET'S + STUDY--ILLUMINATED COPIES OF THE BIBLE--THE STRANGER'S BOOK--A + CLEAN PRINTING-OFFICE--THE HOSPITAL FOR THE INSANE--INNOCENT + AND HAPPY-LOOKING MANIACS--THE CELLS FOR UNGOVERNABLE + LUNATICS--BARBARITY OF THE KEEPER--MISERABLE PROVISIONS-- + ANOTHER GLANCE AT THE PRISONS UNDER THE DUCAL PALACE--THE + OFFICE OF EXECUTIONER--THE ARSENAL--THE STATE GALLERY--THE + ARMOR OF HENRY THE FOURTH--A CURIOUS KEY--MACHINES FOR + TORTURE, ETC. + + +In a first visit to a great European city it is difficult not to let +many things escape notice. Among several churches which I did not see +when I was here before, is that of the _Jesuits_. It is a temple +worthy of the celebrity of this splendid order. The proportions are +finer than those of most of the Venetian churches, and the interior is +one tissue of curious marbles and gold. As we entered, we were first +struck with the grace and magnificence of a large heavy curtain, +hanging over the pulpit, the folds of which, and the figures wrought +upon it, struck us as unusually elegant and ingenious. Our +astonishment was not lessened when we found it was one solid mass of +verd-antique marble. Its sweep over the side and front of the pulpit +is as careless as if it were done by the wind. The whole ceiling of +the church is covered with _sequin gold_--the finest that is coined. +In one of the side chapels is the famous "Martyrdom of St. Lawrence," +by Titian. A fine copy of it (said in the catalogue to be the +original) was exhibited in the Boston Athenaeum a year or two since. + + * * * * * + +It is Sunday, and the morning has been of a heavenly, summer, sunny +calmness, such as is seen often in Italy, and once in a year, perhaps, +in New England. It is a kind of atmosphere, that, to breathe is to be +grateful and happy. We have been to the Armenian island--a little gem +on the bosom of the Lagune, a mile from Venice, where stands the +monastery, to which place Lord Byron went daily to study and translate +with the fathers. There is just room upon it for a church, a convent, +and a little garden. It looks afloat on the water. Our gondola glided +up to the clean stone stairs, and we were received by one of the +order, a hale but venerable looking monk, in the Armenian dress, the +long black cassock and small round cap, his beard long and scattered +with gray, and his complexion and eyes of a cheerful, child-like +clearness, such as regular and simple habits alone can give. I +inquired, as we walked through the cloister, for the father with whom +Lord Byron studied, and of whom the poet speaks so often and so highly +in his letters. The monk smiled and bowed modestly, and related a +little incident that had happened to him at Padua, where he had met +two American travellers, who had asked him of himself in the same +manner. He had forgotten their names, but from his description I +presumed one to have been Professor Longfellow, of Bowdoin University. + +The stillness and cleanliness about the convent, as we passed through +the cloisters and halls, rendered the impression upon a stranger +delightful. We passed the small garden, in which grew a stately +oleander in full blossom, and thousands of smaller flowers, in neat +beds and vases, and after walking through the church, a plain and +pretty one, we came to the library, where the monk had studied with +the poet. It is a proper place for study--disturbed by nothing but the +dash of oars from a passing gondola, or the screams of a sea-bird, and +well furnished with books in every language, and very luxurious +chairs. The monk showed us an encyclopaedia, presented to himself by an +English lady of rank, who had visited the convent often. His handsome +eyes flashed as he pointed to it on the shelves. We went next into a +smaller room, where the more precious manuscripts are deposited, and +he showed us curious illuminated copies of the Bible, and gave us the +stranger's book to inscribe our names. Byron had scrawled his there +before us, and the Empress Maria Louisa had written hers twice on +separate visits. The monk then brought us a volume of prayers, in +twenty-five languages, translated by himself. We bought copies, and +upon some remark of one of the ladies upon his acquirements, he ran +from one language to another, speaking English, French, Italian, +German, and Dutch, with equal facility. His English was quite +wonderful; and a lady from Rotterdam, who was with us, pronounced his +Dutch and German excellent. We then bought small histories of the +order, written by an English gentleman, who had studied at the island, +and passed on to the printing office--the first _clean_ one I ever +saw, and quite the best appointed. Here the monks print their Bibles, +and prayer-books in really beautiful Armenian type, beside almanacs, +and other useful publications for Constantinople, and other parts of +Turkey. The monk wrote his name at our request (Pascal Aucher) in the +blank leaves of our books, and we parted from him at the water-stairs +with sincere regret. I recommend this monastery to all travellers to +Venice. + +On our return we passed near an island, upon which stands a single +building--an insane hospital. I was not very curious to enter it, but +the gondolier assured us that it was a common visit for strangers, and +we consented to go in. We were received by the keeper, who went +through the horrid scene like a regular cicerone, giving us a cold and +rapid history of every patient that arrested our attention. The men's +apartment was the first, and I should never have supposed them insane. +They were all silent, and either read or slept like the inmates of +common hospitals. We came to a side door, and as it opened, the +confusion of a hundred tongues burst through, and we were introduced +into the apartment for women. The noise was deafening. After +traversing a short gallery, we entered a large hall, containing +perhaps fifty females. There was a simultaneous smoothing back of the +hair and prinking of the dress through the room. These the keeper +said, were the well-behaved patients, and more innocent and +happy-looking people I never saw. If to be happy is to be wise, I +should believe with the mad philosopher, that the world and the +lunatic should change names. One large, fine-looking woman took upon +herself to do the honors of the place, and came forward with a +graceful curtesy and a smile of condescension and begged the ladies to +take off their bonnets, and offered me a chair. Even with her +closely-shaven head and coarse flannel dress, she seemed a lady. The +keeper did not know her history. Her attentions were occasionally +interrupted by a stolen glance at the keeper, and a shrinking in of +the shoulders, like a child that had been whipped. One handsome and +perfectly healthy-looking girl of eighteen, walked up and down the +hall, with her arms folded, and a sweet smile on her face, apparently +lost in pleasing thought, and taking no notice of us. Only one was in +bed, and her face might have been a conception of Michael Angelo for +horror. Her hair was uncut, and fell over her eyes, her tongue hung +from her mouth, her eyes were sunken and restless, and the deadly +pallor over features drawn into the intensest look of mental agony, +completing a picture that made my heart sick. Her bed was clean, and +she was as well cared for as she could be, apparently. + +We mounted a flight of stairs to the cells. Here were confined those +who were violent and ungovernable. The mingled sounds that came +through the gratings as we passed were terrific. Laughter of a +demoniac wildness, moans, complaints in every language, screams--every +sound that could express impatience and fear and suffering saluted our +ears. The keeper opened most of the cells and went in, rousing +occasionally one that was asleep, and insisting that all should appear +at the grate. I remonstrated of course, against such a piece of +barbarity, but he said he did it for all strangers, and took no notice +of our pity. The cells were small, just large enough for a bed, upon +the post of which hung a small coarse cloth bag, containing two or +three loaves of the coarsest bread. There was no other furniture. The +beds were bags of straw, without sheets or pillows, and each had a +coarse piece of matting for a covering. I expressed some horror at the +miserable provision made for their comfort, but was told that they +broke and injured themselves with any loose furniture, and were so +reckless in their habits, that it was impossible to give them any +other bedding than straw, which was changed every day. I observed that +each patient had a wisp of long straw tied up in a bundle, given them, +as the keeper said, to employ their hands and amuse them. The wooden +blind before one of the gratings was removed, and a girl flew to it +with the ferocity of a tiger, thrust her hands at us through the bars, +and threw her bread out into the passage, with a look of violent and +uncontrolled anger such as I never saw. She was tall and very +fine-looking. In another cell lay a poor creature, with her face +dreadfully torn, and her hands tied strongly behind her. She was +tossing about restlessly upon her straw, and muttering to herself +indistinctly. The man said she tore her face and bosom whenever she +could get her hands free, and was his worst patient. In the last cell +was a girl of eleven or twelve years, who began to cry piteously the +moment the bolt was drawn. She was in bed, and uncovered her head very +unwillingly, and evidently expected to be whipped. There was another +range of cells above, but we had seen enough, and were glad to get out +upon the calm Lagune. There could scarcely be a stronger contrast than +between those two islands lying side by side--the first the very +picture of regularity and happiness, and the last a refuge for +distraction and misery. The feeling of gratitude to God for reason +after such a scene is irresistible. + + * * * * * + +In visiting again the prisons under the ducal palace, several +additional circumstances were told us. The condemned were compelled to +become executioners. They were led from their cells into the dark +passage where stood the secret guillotine, and without warning forced +to put to death a fellow-creature either by this instrument, or the +more horrible method of strangling against a grate. The guide said +that the office of executioner was held in such horror that it was +impossible to fill it, and hence this dreadful alternative. When a +prisoner was about to be executed, his clothes were sent home to his +family with the message, that "the state would care for him." How much +more agonizing do these circumstances seem, when we remember that most +of the victims were men of rank and education, condemned on suspicion +of political crimes, and often with families refined to a most +unfortunate capacity for mental torture! One ceases to regret the fall +of the Venetian republic, when he sees with how much crime and tyranny +her splendor was accompanied. + + * * * * * + +I saw at the arsenal to-day the model of the "Bucentaur," the state +galley in which the Doge of Venice went out annually to marry him to +the sea. This poetical relic (which, in Childe Harold's time, "lay +rotting unrestored") was burnt by the French--why, I can not conceive. +It was a departure from their usual habit of respect to the curious +and beautiful; and if they had been jealous of such a vestige of the +grandeur of a conquered people, it might at least have been sent to +Paris as easily as "Saint Mark's steeds of brass," and would have been +as great a curiosity. I would rather have seen the Bucentaur than all +their other plunder. The arsenal contains many other treasures. The +armor given to the city of Venice by Henry the Fourth is there, and a +curious key constructed to shoot poisoned needles, and used by one of +the Henrys, I have forgotten which, to despatch any one who offended +him in his presence. One or two curious machines for torture were +shown us--mortars into which the victim was put, with an iron armor +which was screwed down upon him till his head was crushed, or +confession stopped the torture. + + + + +LETTER XXXIX. + + VENICE--SAN MARC'S CHURCH--RECOLLECTIONS OF HOME--FESTA AT THE + LIDO--A POETICAL SCENE--AN ITALIAN SUNSET--PALACE OF + MANFRINI--PESARO'S PALACE AND COUNTRY RESIDENCE--CHURCH OF + SAINT MARY OF NAZARETH--PADUA--THE UNIVERSITY--STATUES OF + DISTINGUISHED FOREIGNERS THE PUBLIC PALACE--BUST OF TITUS + LIVY--BUST OF PETRARCH--CHURCH OF ST. ANTONY DURING MASS--THE + SAINT'S CHIN AND TONGUE--MARTYRDOM OF ST. AGATHA--AUSTRIAN AND + GERMAN SOLDIERS--TRAVELLER'S RECORD-BOOK--PETRARCH'S COTTAGE + AND TOMB--ITALIAN SUMMER AFTERNOON--THE POET'S HOUSE--A FINE + VIEW--THE ROOM WHERE PETRARCH DIED, ETC. + + +I was loitering down one of the gloomy aisles of San Marc's church, +just at twilight this evening, listening to the far-off Ave Maria in +one of the distant chapels, when a Boston gentleman, who I did not +know was abroad, entered with his family, and passed up to the altar. +It is difficult to conceive with what a tide the half-forgotten +circumstances of a home, so far away, rush back upon one's heart in a +strange land, after a long absence, at the sight of familiar faces. I +could realize nothing about me after it--the glittering mosaic of +precious stones under my feet, the gold and splendid colors of the +roof above me, the echoes of the monotonous chant through the +arches--foreign and strange as these circumstances all were. I was +irresistibly at home, the familiar pictures of my native place filling +my eye, and the recollections of those whom I love and honor there +crowding upon my heart with irresistible emotion. The feeling is a +painful one, and with the necessity for becoming again a forgetful +wanderer, remembering home only as a dream, one shrinks from such +things. The reception of a letter, even, destroys a day. + + * * * * * + +There has been a grand _festa_ to-day at the _Lido_. This, you know, +is a long island, forming part of the sea-wall of Venice. It is, +perhaps, five or six miles long, covered in part with groves of small +trees, and a fine green sward; and to the Venetians, to whom leaves +and grass are holyday novelties, is the scene of their gayest +_festas_. They were dancing and dining under the trees; and in front +of the fort which crowns the island, the Austrian commandant had +pitched his tent, and with a band of military music, the officers were +waltzing with ladies in a circle of green sward, making altogether a +very poetical scene. We passed an hour or two wandering among this gay +and unconscious people, and came home by one of the loveliest sunsets +that ever melted sea and sky together. Venice looked like a vision of +a city hanging in mid-air. + + * * * * * + +We have been again to that delightful _palace of Manfrini_. The +"Portia swallowing fire," the Rembrandt portrait, the far-famed +"Giorgione, son and wife," and twenty others, which to see is to be +charmed, delighted me once more. I believe the surviving Manfrini is +the only noble left in Venice. _Pesaro_, who disdained to live in his +country after its liberty was gone, died lately in London. His palace +here is the finest structure I have seen, and his country-house on the +Brenta is a paradise. It must have been a strong feeling which exiled +him from them for eighteen years. + +In coming from the Manfrini, we stopped at the church of "St. Mary of +Nazareth." This is one of those whose cost might buy a kingdom. Its +gold and marbles oppress one with their splendor. In the centre of the +ceiling is a striking fresco of the bearing of "Loretto's chapel +through the air;" and in one of the corners a lovely portrait of a boy +looking over a balustrade, done by the artist _fourteen years of age_! + + * * * * * + +PADUA.--We have passed two days in this venerable city of learning, +including a visit to Petrarch's tomb at Arqua. The university here is +still in its glory, with fifteen hundred students. It has never +declined, I believe, since Livy's time. The beautiful inner court has +two or three galleries, crowded with the arms of the nobles and +distinguished individuals who have received its honors. It has been +the "cradle of princes" from every part of Europe. + +Around one of the squares of the city, stand forty or fifty statues of +the great and distinguished foreigners who have received their +education here. It happened to be the month of vacation, and we could +not see the interior. + +At a public palace, so renowned for the size and singular architecture +of its principal hall, we saw a very antique bust of Titus Livy--a +fine, cleanly-chiselled, scholastic old head, that looked like the +spirit of Latin embodied. We went thence to the Duomo, where they show +a beautiful bust of Petrarch, who lived at Padua some of the latter +years of his life. It is a softer and more voluptuous countenance than +is given him in the pictures. + +The church of Saint Antony here has stood just six hundred years. It +occupied a century in building, and is a rich and noble old specimen +of the taste of the times, with eight cupolas and towers, twenty-seven +chapels inside, four immense organs, and countless statues and +pictures. Saint Antony's body lies in the midst of the principal +chapel, which is surrounded with relievos representing his miracles, +done in the best manner of the glorious artists of antiquity. We were +there during mass, and the people were nearly suffocating themselves +in the press to touch the altar and tomb of the saint. This chapel was +formerly lit by massive silver lamps, which Napoleon took, presenting +them with their models in gilt. He also exacted from them three +thousand sequins for permission to retain the chin and tongue of St. +Antony, which works miracles still, and are preserved in a splendid +chapel with immense brazen doors. Behind the main altar I saw a +harrowing picture by Tiepoli, of the martyrdom of St. Agatha. Her +breasts are cut off, and lying in a dish. The expression in the face +of the dying woman is painfully well done. + +Returning to the inn, we passed a magnificent palace on one of the +squares, upon whose marble steps and column-bases, sat hundreds of +brutish Austrian troops, smoking and laughing at the passers-by. This +is a sight you may see now through all Italy. The palaces of the +proudest nobles are turned into barracks for foreign troops, and there +is scarce a noble old church or monastery that is not defiled with +their filth. The German soldiers are, without exception, the most +stolid and disagreeable looking body of men I ever saw; and they have +little to soften the indignant feeling with which one sees them +rioting in this lovely and oppressed country. + +We passed an hour before bedtime in the usual amusement of travellers +in a foreign hotel--reading the traveller's record-book. Walter +Scott's name was written there, and hundreds of distinguished names +besides. I was pleased to find, on a leaf far back, "Edward Everett," +written in his own round legible hand. There were at least the names +of fifty Americans within the dates of the year past--such a wandering +nation we are. Foreigners express their astonishment always at their +numbers in these cities. + +On the afternoon of the next day, we went to Arqua, on a pilgrimage to +Petrarch's cottage and tomb. It was an Italian summer afternoon, and +the Euganean hills were rising green and lovely, with the sun an hour +high above them, and the yellow of the early sunset already commencing +to glow about the horizon. + +We left the carriage at the "pellucid lake," and went into the hills a +mile, plucking the ripe grapes which hung over the road in profusion. +We were soon at the little village and the tomb, which stands just +before the church door, "reared in air." The four laurels Byron +mentions are dead. We passed up the hill to the poet's house, a rural +stone cottage, commanding a lovely view of the campagna from the +portico. Sixteen villages may be counted from the door, and the two +large towns of Rovigo and Ferrara are distinguishable in a clear +atmosphere. It was a retreat fit for a poet. We went through the +rooms, and saw the poet's cat, stuffed and exhibited behind a wire +grating, his chair and desk, his portrait in fresco, and Laura's, and +the small closet-like room where he died. It was an interesting visit, +and we returned by the golden twilight of this heavenly climate, +repeating Childe Harold, and wishing for his pen to describe afresh +the scene about us. + + + + +LETTER XL. + + EXCURSION FROM VENICE TO VERONA--TRUTH OF BYRON'S DESCRIPTION + OF ITALIAN SCENERY--THE LOMBARDY PEASANTRY--APPEARANCE OF THE + COUNTRY--MANNER OF CULTIVATING THE VINE ON LIVING TREES--THE + VINTAGE--ANOTHER VISIT TO JULIET'S TOMB--THE OPERA AT + VERONA--THE PRIMA DONNA--ROMAN AMPHITHEATRE--BOLOGNA + AGAIN--MADAME MALIBRAN IN LA GAZZA LADRA--CHEAP LUXURIES--THE + PALACE OF THE LAMBACCARI--A MAGDALEN OF GUIDO CARRACCI-- + CHARLES THE SECOND'S BEAUTIES--VALLEY OF THE ARNO--FLORENCE + ONCE MORE. + + +Our gondola set us on shore at Fusina an hour or two before sunset, +with a sky (such as we have had for five months) without a cloud, and +the same promise of a golden sunset, to which I have now become so +accustomed, that rain and a dark heaven would seem to me almost +unnatural. It was the hour and the spot at which Childe Harold must +have left Venice, and we look at the "blue Friuli mountains," the +"deep-died Brenta," and the "Rhoetian hill," and feel the truth of +his description as well as its beauty. The two banks of the Brenta are +studded with the palaces of the Venetian nobles for almost twenty +miles, and the road runs close to the water on the northern side, +following all its graceful windings, and, at every few yards, +surprising the traveller with some fresh scene of cultivated beauty, +church, palace, or garden, while the gondolas on the stream, and the +fair "damas" of Italy sitting under the porticoes, enliven and +brighten the picture. These people live out of doors, and the road was +thronged with the _contadini_; and here and there rolled by a +carriage, with servants in livery; or a family of the better class on +their evening walk, sauntered along at the Italian pace of indolence, +and a finer or happier looking race of people would not easily be +found. It is difficult to see the athletic frames and dark flashing +eyes of the Lombardy peasantry, and remember their degraded condition. +You cannot believe it will remain so. If they think at all, they must, +in time, feel too deeply to endure. + +The guide-book says, the "traveller wants words to express his +sensations at the beauty of the country from Padua to Verona." Its +beauty is owing to the perfection of a method of cultivation universal +in Italy. The fields are divided into handsome squares, by rows of +elms or other forest trees, and the vines are trained upon these with +all the elegance of holyday festoons, winding about the trunks, and +hanging with their heavy clusters from one to the other, the foliage +of vine and tree mingled so closely that it appears as if they sprung +from the same root. Every square is perfectly enclosed with these +fantastic walls of vine-leaves and grapes, and the imagination of a +poet could conceive nothing more beautiful for a festival of Bacchus. +The ground between is sown with grass or corn. The vines are luxuriant +always, and often send their tendrils into the air higher than the +topmost branch of the tree, and this extends the whole distance from +Padua to Verona, with no interruption except the palaces and gardens +of the nobles lying between. + +It was just the season for gathering and pressing the grape, and the +romantic vineyards were full of the happy peasants, of all ages, +mounting the ladders adventurously for the tall clusters, heaping the +baskets and carts, driving in the stately gray oxen with their loads, +and talking and singing as merrily as if it were Arcadia. Oh how +beautiful these scenes are in Italy. The people are picturesque, the +land is like the poetry of nature, the habits are all as they were +described centuries ago, and as the still living pictures of the +glorious old masters represent them. The most every-day traveller +smiles and wonders, as he lets down his carriage windows to look at +the vintage. + + * * * * * + +We have been three or four days in Verona, visiting Juliet's tomb, and +riding through the lovely environs. The opera here is excellent, and +we went last night to see "Romeo and Juliet" performed in the city +renowned by their story. The _prima donna_ was one of those syrens +found often in Italy--a young singer of great promise, with that +daring brilliancy which practice and maturer science discipline, to my +taste, too severely. It was like the wild, ungovernable trill of a +bird, and my ear is not so nice yet, that I even would not rather feel +a roughness in the harmony than lose it. Malibran delighted me more in +America than in Paris. + +The opera was over at twelve, and, as we emerged from the crowded +lobby, the moon full, and as clear and soft as the eye of a child, +burst through the arches of the portico. The theatre is opposite the +celebrated Roman amphitheatre, and the wish to visit it by moonlight +was expressed spontaneously by the whole party. The _custode_ was +roused, and we entered the vast arena and stood in the midst, with the +gigantic ranges of stone seats towering up in a receding circle, as if +to the very sky, and the lofty arches and echoing dens lying black and +silent in the dead shadows of the moon. A hundred thousand people +could sit here; and it was in these arenas, scattered through the +Roman provinces, that the bloody gladiator fights, and the massacre of +Christians, and every scene of horror, amused the subjects of the +mighty mistress of the world. You would never believe it, if you could +have seen how peacefully the moonlight now sleeps on the +moss-gathering walls, and with what untrimmed grace the vines and +flowers creep and blossom on the rocky crevices of the windows. + +We arrived at Bologna just in time to get to the opera. Malibran in +_La Gazza Ladra_ was enough to make one forget more than the fatigue +of a day's travel. She sings as well as ever and plays much better, +though she had been ill, and looked thin. In the prison scene, she was +ghastlier even than the character required. There are few pleasures in +Europe like such singing as hers, and the Italians, in their excellent +operas, and the cheap rate at which they can be frequented, have a +resource corresponding to everything else in their delightful country. +Every comfort and luxury is better and cheaper in Italy than +elsewhere, and it is a pity that he who can get his wine for three +cents a bottle, his dinner and his place at the opera for ten, and has +lodgings for anything he chooses to pay, can not find leisure, and +does not think it worth the trouble, to look about for means to be +free. It is vexatious to see nature lavishing such blessings on +slaves. + +The next morning we visited a palace, which, as it is not mentioned in +the guide-books of travel, I had not before seen--the _Lambaccari_. It +was full of glorious pictures, most of them for sale. Among others we +were captivated with a Magdalen of unrivalled sweetness by _Guido +Carracci_. It has been bought since by Mr. Cabot, of Boston, who +passed through Bologna the day after, and will be sent to America, I +am happy to say, immediately. There were also six of "Charles the +Second's beauties,"--portraits of the celebrated women of that gay +monarch's court, by Sir Peter Lely--ripe, glowing English women, more +voluptuous than chary-looking, but pictures of exquisite workmanship. +There were nine or ten apartments to this splendid palace, all crowded +with paintings by the first masters, and the surviving Lambaccari is +said to be selling them one by one for bread. It is really melancholy +to go through Italy, and see how her people are suffering, and her +nobles starving under oppression. + +We crossed the Appenines in two of the finest days that ever shone, +and descending through clouds and mist to the Tuscan frontier, entered +the lovely valley of the Arno, sparkling in the sunshine, with all its +palaces and spires, as beautiful as ever. I am at Florence once more, +and parting from the delightful party with whom I have travelled for +two months. I start for Rome to-morrow, in company with five artists. + + + + +LETTER XLI. + + JOURNEY TO THE ETERNAL CITY--TWO ROADS TO ROME--SIENNA--THE + PUBLIC SQUARE--AN ITALIAN FAIR--THE CATHEDRAL--THE + LIBRARY--THE THREE GRECIAN GRACES--DANDY OFFICERS--PUBLIC + PROMENADE--LANDSCAPE VIEW--LONG GLEN--A WATERFALL--A + CULTIVATED VALLEY--THE TOWN OF AQUAPENDENTE--SAN + LORENZO--PLINY'S FLOATING ISLANDS--MONTEFIASCONE-- + VITERBO--PROCESSION OF FLOWER AND DANCING GIRLS TO THE + VINTAGE--ASCENT OF THE MONTECIMINO--THE ROAD OF THIEVES--LAKE + VICO--BACCANO--MOUNT SORACTE--DOME OF ST. PETER'S, ETC. + + +I left Florence in company with the five artists mentioned in my last +letter, one of them an Englishman, and the other four pensioners of +the royal academy at Madrid. The Spaniards had but just arrived in +Italy, and could not speak a syllable of the language. The Englishman +spoke everything but French, which he avoided learning _from +principle_. He "hated a Frenchman!" + +There are two roads to Rome. One goes by Sienna, and is a day shorter; +the other by Perugia, the Falls of Terni, Lake Thrasymene, and the +Clitumnus. Childe Harold took the latter, and his ten or twelve best +cantos describe it. I was compelled to go by Sienna, and shall return, +of course, by the other road. + +I was at Sienna on the following day. As the second capital of +Tuscany, this should be a place of some interest, but an hour or two +is more than enough to see all that is attractive. The public square +was a gay scene. It was rather singularly situated, lying fifteen or +twenty feet lower than the streets about it. I should think there were +several thousand people in its area--all buying or selling, and +vociferating, as usual, at the top of their voices. We heard the +murmur, like the roar of the sea, in all the distant streets. There +are few sights more picturesque than an Italian fair, and I strolled +about in the crowd for an hour, amused with the fanciful costumes, and +endeavoring to make out with the assistance of the eye, what rather +distracted my unaccustomed ear--the cries of the various wandering +venders of merchandise. The women, who were all from the country, were +coarse, and looked well only at a distance. + +The cathedral is the great sight of Sienna. It has a rich exterior, +encrusted with curiously wrought marbles, and the front, as far as I +can judge, is in beautiful taste. The pavement of the interior is very +precious, and covered with a wooden platform, which is removed but +once a year. The servitor raised a part of it, to show us the +workmanship. It was like a drawing in India ink, quite as fine as if +pencilled, and representing, as is customary, some miracle of a saint. + +A massive iron door, made ingeniously to imitate a rope-netting, opens +from the side of the church into the _library_. It contained some +twenty volumes in black letter, bound with enormous clasps and placed +upon inclined shelves. It would have been a task for a man of moderate +strength to lift either of them from the floor. The little sacristan +found great difficulty in only opening one to show us the letter. + +In the centre of the chapel on a high pedestal, stands the original +antique group, so often copied, of the three Grecian Graces. It is +shockingly mutilated; but its original beauty is still in a great +measure discernable. Three naked women are an odd ornament for the +private chapel of a cathedral.[1] One often wonders, however, in +Italian churches, whether his devotion is most called upon by the arts +or the Deity. + +As we were leaving the church, four young officers passed us in gay +uniform, their long steel scabbards rattling on the pavement, and +their heavy tread disturbing visibly every person present. As I turned +to look after them, with some remark on their coxcombry, they dropped +on their knees at the bases of the tall pillars about the altar, and +burying their faces in their caps, bowed their heads nearly to the +floor, in attitudes of the deepest devotion. Sincere or not, Catholic +worshippers of all classes _seem_ absorbed in their religious duties. +You can scarce withdraw the attention even of a child in such places. +In the six months that I have been in Italy, I never saw anything like +irreverence within the church walls. + +The public promenade, on the edge of the hill upon which the town is +beautifully situated, commands a noble view of the country about. The +peculiar landscape of Italy lay before us in all its loveliness--the +far-off hills lightly tinted with the divided colors of distance, the +atmosphere between absolutely clear and invisible, and villages +clustered about, each with its ancient castle on the hill-top above, +just as it was settled in feudal times, and as painters and poets +would imagine it. You never get a view in this "garden of the world" +that would not excuse very extravagant description. + +Sienna is said to be the best place for learning the language. Just +between Florence and Rome, it combines the "_lingua Toscano_," with +the "_bocca Romano_"--the Roman pronunciation with the Florentine +purity of language. It looks like a dull place, however, and I was +very glad after dinner to resume my passport at the gate and get on. + +The next morning, after toiling up a considerable ascent, we suddenly +rounded the shoulder of a mountain, and found ourselves at the edge of +a long glen, walled up at one extremity by a precipice with an old +town upon its brow, and a waterfall pouring off at its side, and +opening away at the other into a broad, gently-sloped valley, +cultivated like a garden as far as the eye could distinguish. I think +I have seen an engraving of it in the Landscape Annual. Taken +together, it is positively the most beautiful view I ever saw, from +the road edge, as you wind up into the town of _Acquapendente_. The +precipice might be a hundred feet, and from its immediate edge were +built up the walls of the houses, so that a child at the window might +throw its plaything into the bottom of the ravine. It is scarce a +pistol-shot across the glen, and the two hills on either side lean off +from the level of the town in one long soft declivity to the +valley--the little river which pours off the rock at the very base of +the church, fretting and fuming its way between to the meadows--its +stony bed quite hidden by the thick vegetation of its banks. The bells +were ringing to mass, and the echoes came back to us at long distances +with every modulation. The streets, as we entered the town, were full +of people hurrying to the churches; the women with their red shawls +thrown about their heads, and the men with their immense dingy cloaks +flung romantically over their shoulders, with a grace, one and all, +that in a Parisian dandy, would be attributed to a consummate study of +effect. For outline merely, I think there is nothing in costume which +can surpass the closely-stockinged leg, heavy cloak, and slouched hat +of an Italian peasant. It is added to by his indolent, and, +consequently, graceful motion and attitudes. Johnson, in his book on +the climate of Italy, says their sloth is induced by _malaria_. You +will see a man watching goats or sheep, with his back against a rock, +quite motionless for hours together. His dog feels, apparently, the +same influence, and lies couched in his long white hair, with his eyes +upon the flock, as lifeless, and almost as picturesque, as his master. + +The town of San Lorenzo is a handful of houses on the top of a hill +which hangs over Lake Bolsena. You get the first view of the lake as +you go out of the gate toward Rome, and descend immediately to its +banks. There was a heavy mist upon the water, and we could not see +across, but it looked like as quiet and pleasant a shore as might be +found in the world--the woods wild, and of uncommonly rich foliage for +Italy, and the slopes of the hills beautiful. Saving the road, and +here and there a house with no sign of an inhabitant, there can +scarcely be a lonelier wilderness in America. We stopped two hours at +an inn on its banks, and whether it was the air, or the influence of +the perfect stillness about us, my companions went to sleep, and I +could scarce resist my own drowsiness. + +The mist lifted a little from the lake after dinner, and we saw the +two islands said by Pliny to have floated, in his time. They look like +the tops of green hills rising from the water. + +It is a beautiful country again as you approach Montefiascone. The +scenery is finely broken up with glens formed by columns of basalt, +giving it a look of great wildness. Montefiascone is built on the +river of one of these ravines. We stopped here long enough to get a +bottle of the wine for which the place is famous, drinking it to the +memory of the "German prelate," who, as Madame Stark relates, "stopped +here on his journey to Rome, and died of drinking it to excess." It +has degenerated, probably, since his time, or we chanced upon a bad +bottle. + +The walls of _Viterbo_ are flanked with towers, and have a noble +appearance from the hill-side on which the town stands. We arrived too +late to see anything of the place. As we were taking coffee at the +_cafe_ the next morning, a half hour before daylight, we heard music +in the street, and looking out at the door, we saw a long procession +of young girls, dressed with flowers in their hair, and each playing a +kind of cymbal, and half dancing as she went along. Three or four at +the head of the procession sung a kind of verse, and the rest joined +in a short merry chorus at intervals. It was more like a train of +Corybantes than anything I had seen. We inquired the object of it, and +were told it was a procession _to the vintage_. They were going out to +pluck the last grapes, and it was the custom to make it a festa. It +was a striking scene in the otherwise perfect darkness of the streets, +the torch-bearers at the sides waving their flambeaux regularly over +their heads, and shouting with the rest in chorus. The measure was +quick, and the step very fast. They were gone in an instant. The whole +thing was poetical, and in keeping, for Italy. I have never seen it +elsewhere. + +We left Viterbo on a clear, mild autumnal morning; and I think I never +felt the excitement of a delightful climate more thrillingly. The +road was wild, and with the long ascent of the Monte-Cimino before us, +I left the carriage to its slow pace and went ahead several miles on +foot. The first rain of the season had fallen, and the road was moist, +and all the spicy herbs of Italy perceptible in the air. Half way up +the mountain, I overtook a fat, bald, middle-aged priest, slowly +toiling up on his mule. I was passing him with a "_buon giorno_," when +he begged me for my own sake, as well as his, to keep him company. "It +was the worst road for thieves," he said, "in all Italy," and he +pointed at every short distance to little crosses erected at the +road-side, to commemorate the finding of murdered men on the spot. +After he had told me several stories of the kind, he elevated his +tone, and began to talk of other matters. I think I never heard so +loud and long a laugh as his. I ventured to express a wonder at his +finding himself so happy in a life of celibacy. He looked at me slily +a moment or two as if he were hesitating whether to trust me with his +opinions on the subject; but he suddenly seemed to remember his +caution, and pointing off to the right, showed me a lake brought into +view by the last turn of the road. It was _Lake Vico_. From the midst +of it rose a round mountain covered to the top with luxuriant +chestnuts--the lake forming a sort of trench about it, with the hill +on which we stood rising directly from the other edge. It was one +faultless mirror of green leaves. The two hill sides shadowed it +completely. All the views from Monte-Cimino were among the richest in +mere nature that I ever saw, and reminded me strongly of the country +about the Seneca lake of America. I was on the Cayuga at about the +same season three summers ago, and I could have believed myself back +again, it was so like my recollection. + +We stopped on the fourth night of our journey, seventeen miles from +Rome, at a place called Baccano. A ridge of hills rose just before us, +from the top of which we were told, we could see St. Peter's. The sun +was just dipping under the horizon, and the ascent was three miles. We +threw off our cloaks, determining to see Rome before we slept, ran +unbreathed to the top of the hill, an effort which so nearly exhausted +us, that we could scarce stand long enough upon our feet to search +over the broad campagna for the dome. + +The sunset had lingered a great while--as it does in Italy. Four or +five light feathery streaks of cloud glowed with intense crimson in +the west, and on the brow of Mount Soracte, (which I recognised +instantly from the graphic simile[2] of Childe Harold), and along on +all the ridges of mountain in the east, still played a kind of +vanishing reflection, half purple, half gray. With a moment's glance +around to catch the outline of the landscape, I felt instinctively +where Rome _should_ stand, and my eye fell at once upon "the mighty +dome." Jupiter had by this time appeared, and hung right over it, +trembling in the sky with its peculiar glory, like a lump of molten +spar, and as the color faded from the clouds, and the dark mass of +"the eternal city" itself mingled and was lost in the shadows of the +campagna, the dome still seemed to catch light, and tower visibly, as +if the radiance of the glowing star above fell more directly upon it. +We could see it till we could scarcely distinguish each other's +features. The dead level of the campagna extended between and beyond +for twenty miles, and it looked like a far-off beacon in a dim sea. +We sat an hour on the summit of the hill, gazing into the increasing +darkness, till our eyes ached. The stars brightened one by one, the +mountains grew indistinct, and we rose unwillingly to retrace our +steps to Baccano. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] I remember hearing a friend receive a severe reproof from one of +the most enlightened men in our country, for offering his daughter an +annual, upon the cover of which was an engraving of these same +"Graces." + +[2] + ----"A long swept wave about to break, + And on the curl hangs pausing." + + + + +LETTER XLII. + + FIRST DAY IN ROME--SAINT PETER'S--A SOLITARY MONK--STRANGE + MUSIC--MICHAEL ANGELO'S MASTERPIECE--THE MUSEUM--LIKENESS OF + YOUNG AUGUSTUS--APOLLO BELVIDERE--THE MEDICEAN + VENUS--RAPHAEL'S TRANSFIGURATION--THE PANTHEON--THE + BURIAL-PLACE OF CARRACCI AND RAPHAEL--ROMAN FORUM--TEMPLE OF + FORTUNE--THE ROSTRUM--PALACE OF THE CESARS--THE RUINS--THE + COLISEUM, ETC. + + +To be rid of the dust of travel, and abroad in a strange and renowned +city, is a sensation of no slight pleasure anywhere. To step into the +street under these circumstances and inquire for the _Roman Forum_, +was a sufficient advance upon the ordinary feeling to mark a bright +day in one's calendar. I was hurrying up the Corso with this object +before me a half hour after my arrival in Rome, when an old friend +arrested my steps, and begging me to reserve the "Ruins" for +moonlight, took me off to St. Peter's. + +The facade of the church appears alone, as you walk up the street from +the castle of St. Angelo. It disappointed me. There is no portico, +and it looks flat and bare. But approaching nearer, I stood at the +base of the obelisk, and with those two magnificent fountains sending +their musical waters, as if to the sky, and the two encircling wings +of the church embracing the immense area with its triple colonnades, I +felt the grandeur of St. Peter's. I felt it again in the gigantic and +richly-wrought porches, and again with indescribable surprise and +admiration at the first step on the pavement of the interior. There +was not a figure on its immense floor from the door to the altar, and +its far-off roof, its mighty pillars, its gold and marbles in such +profusion that the eye shrinks from the examination, made their +overpowering impression uninterrupted. You feel that it must be a +glorious creature that could build such a temple to his Maker. + +An organ was playing brokenly in one of the distant chapels, and, +drawing insensibly to the music, we found the door half open, and a +monk alone, running his fingers over the keys, and stopping sometimes +as if to muse, till the echo died and the silence seemed to startle +him anew. It was strange music; very irregular, but sweet, and in a +less excited moment, I could have sat and listened to it till the sun +set. + +I strayed down the aisle, and stood before the "Dead Christ" of +Michael Angelo. The Saviour lies in the arms of Mary. The limbs hang +lifelessly down, and, exquisitely beautiful as they are, express death +with a wonderful power. It is the best work of the artist, I think, +and the only one I was ever _moved_ in looking at. + +The greatest statue and the first picture in the world are under the +same roof, and we mounted to the Vatican. The museum is a wilderness +of statuary. Old Romans, men and women, stand about you, copied, as +you feel when you look on them, from the life; and conceptions of +beauty in children, nymphs, and heroes, from minds that conceived +beauty in a degree that has never been transcended, confuse and +bewilder you with their number and wonderful workmanship. It is like +seeing a vision of past ages. It is calling up from Athens and old +classic Rome, all that was distinguished and admired of the most +polished ages of the world. On the right of the long gallery, as you +enter, stands the bust of the "Young Augustus"--a kind of beautiful, +angelic likeness of Napoleon, as Napoleon might have been in his +youth. It is a boy, but with a serene dignity about the forehead and +lips, that makes him visibly a boy-emperor--born for his throne, and +conscious of his right to it. There is nothing in marble more perfect, +and I never saw anything which made me realize that the Romans of +history and poetry were _men_--nothing which brought them so +familiarly to my mind, as the feeling for beauty shown in this +infantine bust. I would rather have it than all the gods and heroes of +the Vatican. + +No cast gives you any idea worth having of the Apollo Belvidere. It is +a god-like model of a man. The lightness and the elegance of the +limbs; the free, fiery, confident energy of the attitude; the +breathing, indignant nostril and lips; the whole statue's mingled and +equal grace and power, are, with all its truth to nature, beyond any +conception I had formed of manly beauty. It spoils one's eye for +common men to look at it. It stands there like a descended angel, with +a splendor of form and an air of power, that makes one feel what he +should have been, and mortifies him for what he is. Most women whom I +have met in Europe, adore the Apollo as far the finest statue in the +world, and most _men_ say as much of the Medicean Venus. But, to my +eye, the Venus, lovely as she is, compares with the Apollo as a +mortal with an angel of light. The latter is incomparably the finest +statue. If it were only for its face, it would transcend the other +infinitely. The beauty of the Venus is only in the limbs and body. It +is a faultless, and withal, modest representation of the flesh and +blood beauty of a woman. The Apollo is all this, and has a _soul_. I +have seen women that approached the Venus in form, and had finer +faces--I never saw a man that was a shadow of the Apollo in either. It +stands as it should, in a room by itself, and is thronged at all hours +by female worshippers. They never tire of gazing at it; and I should +believe, from the open-mouthed wonder of those whom I met at its +pedestal, that the story of the girl who pined and died for love of +it, was neither improbable nor singular. + +Raphael's "Transfiguration" is agreed to be the finest picture in the +world. I had made up my mind to the same opinion from the engravings +of it, but was painfully disappointed in the picture. I looked at it +from every corner of the room, and asked the _custode_ three times if +he was sure this was the original. The color offended my eye, blind as +Raphael's name should make it, and I left the room with a sigh, and an +unsettled faith in my own taste, that made me seriously unhappy. My +complacency was restored a few hours after on hearing that the wonder +was entirely in the drawing--the colors having quite changed with +time. I bought the engraving immediately, which you have seen too +often, of course, to need my commentary. The aerial lightness with +which he has hung the figures of the Saviour and the apostles in the +air, is a triumph of the pencil over the laws of nature, that seem to +have required the power of the miracle itself. + +I lost myself in coming home, and following a priest's direction to +the Corso, came unexpectedly upon the "Pantheon," which I recognised +at once. This wonder of architecture has no questionable beauty. A +dunce would not need to be told that it was perfect. Its Corinthian +columns fall on the eye with that sense of fulness that seems to +answer an instinct of beauty in the very organ. One feels a fault or +an excellence in architecture long before he can give the feeling a +name; and I can see why, by Childe Harold and others, this heathen +temple is called "the pride of Rome," though I cannot venture on a +description. The faultless interior is now used as a church, and there +lie Annibal Carracci and the divine Raphael--two names worthy of the +place, and the last, of a shrine in every bosom capable of a +conception of beauty. Glorious Raphael! If there was no other relic in +Rome, one would willingly become a pilgrim to his ashes. + +With my countryman and friend, Mr. Cleveland, I stood in the Roman +forum by the light of a clear half moon. The soft silver rays poured +in through the ruined columns of the Temple of Fortune and threw our +shadows upon the bases of the tall shafts near the capitol, the +remains, I believe, of the temple erected by Augustus to Jupiter +Tonans. Impressive things they are, even without their name, standing +tall and alone, with their broken capitals wreathed with ivy, and +neither roof nor wall to support them, where they were placed by hands +that have mouldered for centuries. It is difficult to rally one's +senses in such a place, and be awake coldly to the scene. We stood, as +we supposed, in the Rostrum. The noble arch, still almost perfect, +erected by the senate to Septimius Severus, stood up clear and lofty +beside us, the three matchless and lonely columns of the supposed +temple of Jupiter Stator threw their shadows across the Forum below, +the great arch, built at the conquest of Jerusalem to Titus, was +visible in the distance, and above them all, on the gentle ascent of +the Palatine, stood the ruined palace of the Cesars, the sharp edges +of the demolished walls breaking up through vines and ivy, and the +mellow moon of Italy softening rock and foliage into one silver-edged +mass of shadow. It seems as if the very genius of the picturesque had +arranged these immortal ruins. If the heaps of fresh excavation were +but overgrown with grass, no poet nor painter could better image out +the Rome of his dream. It surpasses fancy. + +We walked on, over fragments of marble columns turned up from the +mould, and leaving the majestic arches of the Temple of Peace on our +left, passed under the arch of Titus (so dreaded by the Jews), to the +Coliseum. This too is magnificently ruined--broken in every part, and +yet showing still the brave skeleton of what it was--its gigantic and +triple walls, half encircling the silent area, and its rocky seats +lifting one above the other amid weeds and ivy, and darkening the dens +beneath, whence issued the gladiators, beasts, and Christian martyrs, +to be sacrificed for the amusement of Rome. A sentinel paced at the +gigantic archway, a capuchin monk, whose duty is to attend the small +chapels built around the arena, walked up and down in his russet cowl +and sandals, the moon broke through the clefts in the wall, and the +whole place was buried in the silence of a wilderness. I have given +you the features of the scene--I leave you to people it with your own +thoughts. I dare not trust mine to a colder medium than poetry. + + + + +LETTER XLIII. + + TIVOLI--RUINS OF THE BATHS OF DIOCLETIAN--FALLS OF + TIVOLI--CASCATELLI--SUBJECT OF ONE OF COLE'S LANDSCAPES--RUINS + OF THE VILLAGE OF MECAENAS--RUINED VILLA OF ADRIAN--THE + FORUM--TEMPLE OF VESTA--THE CLOACA MAXIMA--THE RIVER JUTURNA, + ETC. + + +I have spent a day at Tivoli with Messrs. Auchmuty and Bissell, of our +navy, and one or two others, forming quite an American party. We +passed the ruins of the baths of Diocletian, with a heavy cloud over +our heads; but we were scarce through the gate, when the sun broke +through, the rain swept off over Soracte, and the sky was clear till +sunset. + +I have seen many finer falls than Tivoli; that is, more water, and +falling farther; but I do not think there is so pretty a place in the +world. A very dirty village, a dirtier hotel, and a cicerone all rags +and ruffianism, are somewhat dampers to anticipation. We passed +through a broken gate, and with a step, were in a glen of fairy-land; +the lightest and loveliest of antique temples on a crag above, a snowy +waterfall of some hundred and fifty feet below, grottoes mossed to the +mouth at the river's outlet, and all up and down the cleft valley +vines twisted in the crevices of rock, and shrubbery hanging on every +ledge, with a felicity of taste or nature, or both, that is uncommon +even in Italy. The fall itself comes rushing down through a grotto to +the face of the precipice, over which it leaps, and looks like a +subterranean river just coming to light. Its bed is rough above, and +it bursts forth from its cavern in dazzling foam, and falls in one +sparry sheet to the gulf. The falls of Montmorenci are not unlike it. + +We descended to the bottom, and from the little terrace, wet by the +spray, and dark with overhanging rocks, looked up the "cavern of +Neptune," a deep passage, through which the divided river rushes to +meet the fall in the gulf. Then remounting to the top, we took mules +to make the three miles' circuit of the glen, and see what are called +the _Cascatelli_. + +No fairy-work could exceed the beauty of the little antique Sybil's +temple perched on the top of the crag above the fall. As we rode round +the other edge of the glen, it stood opposite us in all the beauty of +its light and airy architecture; a thing that might be borne, "like +Loretto's chapel, through the air," and seem no miracle. + +A mile farther on I began to recognize the features of the scene, at a +most lovely point of view. It was the subject of one of Cole's +landscapes, which I had seen in Florence; and I need not say to any +one who knows the works of this admirable artist, that it was done +with truth and taste.[3] The little town of Tivoli hangs on a jutting +lap of a mountain, on the side of the ravine opposite to your point of +view. From beneath its walls, as if its foundations were laid upon a +river's fountains, bursts foaming water in some thirty different +falls; and it seems to you as if the long declivities were that moment +for the first time overflowed, for the currents go dashing under +trees, and overleaping vines and shrubs, appearing and disappearing +continually, till they all meet in the quiet bed of the river below. +"_It was made by Bernini_," said the guide, as we stood gazing at it; +and, odd as this information sounded, while wondering at a spectacle +worthy of the happiest accident of nature, it will explain the +phenomena of the place to you--the artist having turned a mountain +river from its course, and leading it under the town of Tivoli, threw +it over the sides of the precipitous hill upon which it stands. One of +the streams appears from beneath the ruins of the "Villa of Mecaenas," +which topples over a precipice just below the town, looking over the +campagna toward Rome--a situation worthy of the patron of the poets. +We rode through the immense subterranean arches, which formed its +court, in ascending the mountain again to the town. + +Near Tivoli is the ruined villa of Adrian, where was found the Venus +de Medicis, and some other of the wonders of antique art. The sun had +set, however, and the long campagna of twenty miles lay between us and +Rome. We were compelled to leave it unseen. We entered the gates at +nine o'clock, _unrobbed_--rather an unusual good fortune, we were +told, for travellers after dark on that lonely waste. Perhaps our +number deprived us of the romance. + +I left a crowded ball-room at midnight, wearied with a day at Tivoli, +and oppressed with an atmosphere breathed by two hundred, dancing and +card-playing, Romans and foreigners; and with a step from the portico +of the noble palace of our host, came into a broad beam of moonlight, +that with the stillness and coolness of the night refreshed me at +once, and banished all disposition for sleep. A friend was with me, +and I proposed a ramble among the ruins. + +The sentinel challenged us as we entered the Forum. The frequent +robberies of romantic strangers in this lonely place have made a guard +necessary, and they are now stationed from the Arch of Severus to the +Coliseum. We passed an hour rambling among the ruins of the temples. +Not a footstep was to be heard, nor a sound even from the near city; +and the tall columns, with their broken friezes and capitals, and the +grand imperishable arches, stood up in the bright light of the moon, +looking indeed like monuments of Rome. I am told they are less +majestic by daylight. The rubbish and fresh earth injure the effect. +But I have as yet seen them in the garb of moonlight only, and I shall +carry this impression away. It is to me, now, all that my fancy hoped +to find it--its temples and columns just enough in ruin to be +affecting and beautiful. + +We went thence to the Temple of Vesta. It is shut up in the modern +streets, ten or fifteen minutes walk from the Forum. The picture of +this perfect temple, and the beautiful purpose of its consecration, +have been always prominent in my imaginary Rome. It is worthy of its +association--an exquisite round temple, with its simple circle of +columns from the base to the roof, a faultless thing in proportion, +and as light and floating to the eye as if the wind might lift it. It +was no common place to stand beside, and recall the poetical truth +and fiction of which it has been the scene--the vestal lamp cherished +or neglected by its high-born votaries, their honors if pure, and +their dreadful death if faithless. It needed not the heavenly +moonlight that broke across its columns to make it a very shrine of +fancy. + +My companion proposed a visit next to the Cloaca Maxima. A _common +sewer_, after the Temple of Vesta, sounds like an abrupt transition; +but the arches beneath which we descended were touched by moonlight, +and the vines and ivy crossed our path, and instead of a drain of +filth, which the fame of its imperial builder would scarce have +sweetened, a rapid stream leaped to the right, and disappeared again +beneath the solid masonry, more like a wild brook plunging into a +grotto than the thing one expects to find it. The clear little river +_Juturna_ (on the banks of which Castor and Pollux watered their +foaming horses, when bringing the news of victory to Rome), dashes now +through the Cloaca Maxima; and a fresher or purer spot, or waters with +a more musical murmur, it has not been my fortune to see. We stopped +over a broken column for a drink, and went home, refreshed, to bed. + + +FOOTNOTE: + +[3] On my way to Rome (near Radicofani, I think), we passed an old +man, whose picturesque figure, enveloped in his brown cloak and +slouched hat, arrested the attention of all my companions. I had seen +him before. From a five minutes' sketch in passing, Mr. Cole had made +one of the most spirited heads I ever saw, admirably like, and worthy +of Caravaggio for force and expression. + + + + +LETTER XLIV. + + MASS IN THE SISTINE CHAPEL--THE CARDINALS--THE "LAST + JUDGMENT"--THE POPE OF ROME--THE "ADAM AND EVE" CHANTING OF + THE PRIESTS--FESTA AT THE CHURCH OF SAN CARLOS--GREGORY THE + SIXTEENTH, HIS EQUIPAGE, TRAIN, ETC. + + +All the world goes to hear "mass in the Sistine chapel," and all +travellers describe it. It occurs infrequently and is performed by the +Pope. We were there to-day at ten, crowding at the door with hundreds +of foreigners, mostly English, elbowed alternately by priests and +ladies, and kept in order by the Swiss guards in their harlequin +dresses and long pikes. We were admitted after an hour's pushing, and +the guard retreated to the grated door, through which no woman is +permitted to pass. Their gay bonnets and feathers clustered behind the +gilded bars, and we could admire them for once without the qualifying +reflection that they were between us and the show. An hour more was +occupied in the entrance, one by one, of some forty cardinals with +their rustling silk trains supported by boys in purple. They passed +the gate, their train bearers lifted their cassocks and helped them to +kneel, a moment's prayer was mumbled, and they took their seats with +the same servile assistance. Their attendants placed themselves at +their feet, and, taking the prayer-books, the only use of which +appeared to be to display their jewelled fingers, they looked over +them at the faces behind the grating, and waited for his Holiness. + +The intervals of this memory, gave us time to study the famous +_frescoes_ for which the Sistine chapel is renowned. The subject is +the "Last Judgment." The Saviour sits in the midst, pronouncing the +sentence, the wicked plunging from his presence on the left hand, and +the righteous ascending with the assistance of angels on the right. +The artist had, of course, infinite scope for expression, and the fame +of the fresco (which occupies the whole of the wall behind the altar) +would seem to argue his success. The light is miserable, however, and +incense or lamp-smoke, has obscured the colors, and one looks at it +now with little pleasure. As well as I could see, the figure of the +Saviour was more that of a tiler throwing down slates from the top of +a house in some fear of falling, than the Judge of the world upon his +throne. Some of the other parts are better, and one or two naked +females figures might once have been beautiful, but one of the +succeeding popes ordered them dressed, and they now flaunt at the +judgment-seat in colored silks, obscuring both saints and sinners with +their finery. There are some redeeming frescoes, also by Michael +Angelo, on the ceiling, among them "Adam and Eve," exquisitely done. + +The Pope entered by a door at the side of the altar. With him came a +host of dignitaries and church servants, and, as he tottered round in +front of the altar, to kneel, his cap was taken off and put on, his +flowing robes lifted and spread, and he was treated in all respects, +as if he were the Deity himself. In fact, the whole service was the +worship, not of God, but of the Pope. The cardinals came up, one by +one, with their heads bowed, and knelt reverently to kiss his hand and +the hem of his white satin dress; his throne was higher than the +altar, and ten times as gorgeous; the incense was flung toward him, +and his motions from one side of the chapel to the other, were +attended with more ceremony and devotion than all the rest of the +service together. The chanting commenced with his entrance, and this +should have been to God alone, for it was like music from heaven. The +choir was composed of priests, who sang from massive volumes bound in +golden clasps, in a small side gallery. One stood by the book, turning +the leaves as the chant proceeded, and keeping the measure, and the +others clustered around with their hands clasped, their heads thrown +back, and their eyes closed or fixed upon the turning leaves in such +grouping and attitude as you see in pictures of angels singing in the +clouds. I have heard wonderful music since I have been on the +continent, and have received new ideas of the compass of the human +voice, and its capacities for pathos and sweetness. But, after all the +wonders of the opera, as it is learned to sing before kings and +courts, the chanting of these priests transcended every conception in +my mind of music. It was the human voice, cleared of all earthliness, +and gushing through its organs with uncontrollable feeling and nature. +The burden of the various parts returned continually upon one or two +simple notes, the deepest and sweetest in the octave for melody, and +occasionally a single voice outran the choir in a passionate +repetition of the air, which seemed less like musical contrivance, +than an abandonment of soul and voice to a preternatural impulse of +devotion. One writes nonsense in describing such things, but there is +no other way of conveying an idea of them. The subject is beyond the +wildest superlatives. + +To-day we have again seen the Pope. It was a festa, and the church of +San Carlos was the scene of the ceremonies. His Holiness came in the +state-coach with six long-tailed black horses, and all his cardinals +in their red and gold carriages in his train. The gaudy procession +swept up to the steps, and the father of the church was taken upon the +shoulders of his bearers in a chair of gold and crimson, and solemnly +borne up the aisle, and deposited within the railings of the altar, +where homage was done to him by the cardinals as before, and the +half-supernatural music of his choir awaited his motions. The church +was half filled with soldiers armed to the teeth, and drawn up on +either side, and his body-guard of Roman nobles, stood even within the +railing of the altar, capped and motionless, conveying, as everything +else does, the irresistible impression that it was the worship of the +Pope, not of God. + +Gregory the sixteenth, is a small old man, with a large heavy nose, +eyes buried in sluggish wrinkles, and a flushed, apoplectic +complexion. He sits, or is borne about with his eyes shut, looking +quite asleep, even his limbs hanging lifelessly. The gorgeous and +heavy papal costumes only render him more insignificant, and when he +is borne about, buried in his deep chair, or lost in the corner of his +huge black and gold pagoda of a carriage, it is difficult to look at +him without a smile. Among his cardinals, however, there are +magnificent heads, boldly marked, noble and scholarlike, and I may +say, perhaps, that there is no one of them, who had not nature's mark +upon him of superiority. They are a dignified and impressive body of +men, and their servile homage to the Pope, seems unnatural and +disgusting. + + + + +LETTER XLV. + + ROME--A MORNING IN THE STUDIO OF THORWALDSEN--COLOSSAL STATUE + OF THE SAVIOUR--STATUE OF BYRON--GIBSON'S ROOMS--CUPID AND + PSYCHE--HYLAS WITH THE RIVER NYMPHS--PALAZZO SPADA--STATUE OF + POMPEY--BORGHESE PALACE--PORTRAIT OF CESAR BORGIA--DOSSI'S + PSYCHE--SACRED AND PROFANE LOVE--ROOM DEVOTED TO VENUSES--THE + SOCIETY OF ROME, ETC. + + +I have spent a morning in the studio of _Thorwaldsen_. He is probably +the greatest sculptor now living. A colossal statue of Christ, thought +by many to be his masterpiece, is the prominent object as you enter. +It is a noble conception--the mild majesty of a Saviour expressed in a +face of the most dignified human beauty. Perhaps his full-length +statue of Byron is inferior to some of his other works, but it +interested me, and I spent most of my time in looking at it. It was +taken from life; and my friend, Mr. Auchmuty, who was with me, and who +had seen Byron frequently on board one of our ships-of-war at Leghorn, +thought it the only faithful likeness he had ever seen. The poet is +dressed oddly enough, in a morning frock coat, cravat, pantaloons, and +shoes; and, unpromising as these materials would seem, the statue is +classic and elegant to a very high degree. His coat is held by the +two centre buttons in front (a more exquisite cut never came from the +hands of a London tailor), swelled out a little above and below by the +fleshy roundness of his figure; his cravat is tied loosely, leaving +his throat bare (which, by the way, both in the statue and the +original, was very beautifully chiselled); and he sits upon a fragment +of a column, with a book in one hand and a pencil in the other. A man +reading a pleasant poem among the ruins of Rome, and looking up to +reflect upon a fine passage before marking it, would assume the +attitude and expression exactly. The face has half a smile upon it, +and, differing from the Apollo faces usually drawn for Byron, is +finer, and more expressive of his character than any I ever met with. +Thorwaldsen is a Dane, and is beloved by every one for his simplicity +and modesty. I did not see him. + +We were afterward at _Gibson's_ rooms. This gentleman is an English +artist, apparently about thirty, and full of genius. He has taken some +portraits which are esteemed admirable; but his principal labor has +been thrown upon the most beautiful fables of antiquity. His various +groups and bas-reliefs of Cupid and Psyche are worthy of the beauty of +the story. His _chef d'oeuvre_, I think, is a group of three +figures, representing the boy, "Hylas with the river nymphs." He +stands between them with the pitcher in his hand, startled with their +touch, and listening to their persuasions. The smaller of the two +female figures is an almost matchless conception of loveliness. Gibson +went round with us kindly, and I was delighted with his modesty of +manner, and the apparently completely poetical character of his mind. +He has a noble head, a lofty forehead well marked, and a mouth of +finely mingled strength and mildness. + +We devoted this morning to _palaces_. At the _Palazzo Spada_ we saw +the statue of Pompey, at the base of which Cesar fell. Antiquaries +dispute its authenticity, but the evidence is quite strong enough for +a poetical belief; and if it were not, one's time is not lost, for the +statue is a majestic thing, and well worth the long walk necessary to +see it. The mutilated arm, and the hole in the wall behind, remind one +of the ludicrous fantasy of the French, who carried it to the Forum to +enact "Brutus" at its base. + +The _Borghese Palace_ is rich in pictures. The portrait of _Cesar +Borgia_, by Titian, is one of the most striking. It represents that +accomplished villain with rather slight features, and, barring a look +of cool determination about his well-formed lips, with rather a +prepossessing countenance. One detects in it the capabilities of such +a character as his, after the original is mentioned; but otherwise he +might pass for a handsome gallant, of no more dangerous trait than a +fiery temper. Just beyond it is a very strong contrast in a figure of +_Psyche_, by Dossi, of Ferrara. She is coming on tiptoe, with the +lamp, to see her lover. The Cupid asleep is not so well done; but for +an image of a real woman, unexaggerated and lovely, I have seen +nothing which pleases me better than this Psyche. Opposite it hangs a +very celebrated Titian, representing "Sacred and Profane Love." Two +female figures are sitting by a well--one quite nude, with her hair +about her shoulders, and the other dressed, and coiffed _a la mode_, +but looking less modest to my eye than her undraped sister. It is +little wonder, however, that a man who could paint his own daughter in +the embraces of a satyr (a revolting picture, which I saw in the +Barberigo palace at Venice) should fail in drawing the face of +Virtue. The coloring of the picture is exquisite, but the design is +certainly a failure. + +The last room in the palace is devoted to Venuses--all very naked and +very bad. There might be forty, I think, and not a limb among them +that one's eye would rest upon with the least pleasure for a single +moment. + +The society of Rome is of course changing continually. At this +particular season, strangers from every part of the continent are +beginning to arrive, and it promises to be pleasant. I have been at +most of the parties during the fortnight that I have been here, but +find them thronged with priests, and with only the resident society +which is dull. Cards and conversation with people one never saw +before, and will certainly never see again, are heavy pastimes. I +start for Florence to-morrow, and shall return to Rome for Holy Week, +and the spring months. + + + + +LETTER XLVI. + + ITALIAN AND AMERICAN SKIES--FALLS OF TERNI--THE CLITUMNUS--THE + TEMPLE--EFFECTS OF AN EARTHQUAKE AT FOLIGNO--LAKE + THRASIMENE--JOURNEY FROM ROME--FLORENCE--FLORENTINE + SCENERY--PRINCE PONIATOWSKI--JEROME BONAPARTE AND FAMILY--WANT + OF A MINISTER IN ITALY. + + +I left Rome by the magnificent "Porta del Popolo," as the flush of a +pearly and spotless Italian sunrise deepened over Soracte. They are so +splendid without clouds--these skies of Italy! so deep to the eye, so +radiantly clear! _Clouds_ make the glory of an American sky. The +"Indian summer" sunsets excepted, our sun goes down in New England, +with the extravagance of a theatrical scene. The clouds are massed and +heavy, like piles of gold and fire, and day after day, if you observe +them, you are literally astonished with the brilliant phenomena of the +west. Here, for seven months, we have had no rain. The sun has risen +faultlessly clear, with the same gray, and silver, and rose tints +succeeding each other as regularly as the colors in a turning prism, +and it has set as constantly in orange, gold, and purple, with scarce +the variation of a painter's pallet, from one day to another. It is +really most delightful to live under such heavens as these; to be +depressed never by a gloomy sky, nor ill from a chance exposure to a +chill wind, nor out of humor because the rain or damp keeps you a +prisoner at home. You feel the delicious climate in a thousand ways. +It is a positive blessing, and were worth more than a fortune, if it +were bought and sold. I would rather be poor in Italy, than rich in +any other country in the world. + +We ascended the mountain that shuts in the campagna on the north, and +turned, while the horses breathed, to take a last look at Rome. My two +friends, the lieutenants, and myself, occupied the interior of the +vetturino, in company with a young Roman woman, who was making her +first journey from home. She was going to see her husband. I pointed +out of the window to the distant dome of St. Peter's, rising above the +thin smoke hung over the city, and she looked at it with the tears +streaming from her large black eyes in torrents. She might have cried +because she was going to her husband, but I could not divest myself of +the fact that she was a Roman, and leaving a home that _could_ be very +romantically wept for. She was a fine specimen of this finest of the +races of woman--amply proportioned without grossness, and with that +certain presence or dignity that rises above manners and rank, common +to them all. + +We saw beautiful scenery at Narni. The town stands on the edge of a +precipice, and the valley, a hundred feet or two below, is coursed by +a wild stream, that goes foaming along its bed in a long line of froth +for miles away. We dined here, and drove afterward to Terni, where the +voiturier stopped for the night, to give us an opportunity to see the +_Falls_. + +We drove to the mountain base, three miles, in an old post barouche, +and made the ascent on foot. A line of precipices extends along from +the summit, and from the third or fourth of these leaps the Velino, +clear into the valley. We saw it in front as we went on, and then +followed the road round, till we reached the bed of the river behind. +The fountain of Egeria is not more secludedly beautiful than its +current above the fall. Trees overhang and meet, and flowers spring in +wonderful variety on its banks, and the ripple against the roots is +heard amid the roar of the cataract, like a sweet, clear voice in a +chorus. It is a place in which you half expect to startle a fawn, it +looks so unvisited and wild. We wound out through the shrubbery, and +gained a projecting point, from which we could see the sheet of the +cascade. It is "horribly beautiful" to be sure. Childe Harold's +description of it is as true as a drawing. + +I should think the quantity of water at Niagara would make five +hundred such falls as those of Terni, without exaggeration. It is a +"hell of waters," however, notwithstanding, and leaps over with a +current all turned into foam by the roughness of its bed above--a +circumstance that gives the sheet more richness of surface. Two or +three lovely little streams steal off on either side of the fall, as +if they shrunk from the leap, and drop down, from rock to rock, till +they are lost in the rising mist. + +The sun set over the little town of Terni, while we stood silently +looking down into the gulf, and the wet spray reminded us that the +most romantic people may take cold. We descended to our carriage; and +in an hour were sitting around the blazing fire at the post-house, +with a motley group of Germans, Swiss, French, and Italians--a mixture +of company universal in the public room of an Italian albergo, at +night. The coming and going vetturini stop at the same houses +throughout, and the concourse is always amusing. We sat till the fire +burned low, and then wishing our chance friends a happy night, had the +"priests"[4] taken from our beds, and were soon lost to everything but +sleep. + +Terni was the Italian Tempe, and its beautiful scenery was shown to +Cicero, whose excursion hither is recorded. It is part of a long, deep +valley, between abrupt ranges of mountains, and abounds in loveliness. + +We went to Spoleto, the next morning, to breakfast. It is a very old +town, oddly built, and one of its gates still remains, at which +Hannibal was repulsed after his victory at Thrasimene. It bears his +name in time-worn letters. + +At the distance of one post from Spoleto we came to the _Clitumnus_, a +small stream, still, deep, and glassy--the clearest water I ever saw. +It looks almost like air. On its bank, facing away from the road, +stands the temple, "of small and delicate proportions," mentioned so +exquisitely by Childe Harold. + +The temple of the Clitumnus might stand in a drawing-room. The stream +is a mere brook, and this little marble gem, whose richly fretted +columns were raised to its honor with a feeling of beauty that makes +one thrill, seems exactly of relative proportions. It is a thing of +pure poetry; and to find an antiquity of such perfect preservation, +with the small clear stream running still at the base of its _facade_, +just as it did when Cicero and his contemporaries passed it on their +visits to a country called after the loveliest vale of Greece for its +beauty, was a gratification of the highest demand of taste. Childe +Harold's lesson, + + "Pass not unblest the genius of the place" + +was scarce necessary.[5] + +We slept at _Foligno_. For many miles we had observed that the houses +were propped in every direction, many of them in ruins apparently +recent, and small wooden sheds erected in the midst of the squares, or +beside the roads, and crowded with the poor. The next morning we +arrived at St. Angelo, and found its gigantic cathedral a heap of +ruins. Its painted chapels, to the number of fifteen or sixteen, were +half standing in the shattered walls, the altars all exposed, and the +interior of the dome one mass of stone and rubbish. It was the first +time I had seen the effects of an _earthquake_. For eight or ten miles +further, we found every house cracked and deserted, and the people +living like the settlers in a new country, half in the open air. The +beggars were innumerable. + +We stopped the next night on the shores of lake Thrasimene. For once +in my life, I felt that the time spent at school on the "dull drilled +lesson," had not been wasted. I was on the battle ground of +Hannibal--the "_locus aptus insidiis_" where the consul Flaminius was +snared and beaten by the wily Carthaginian on his march to Rome. I +longed for my old copy of Livy "much thumbed," that I might sit on +the hill and compare the image in my mind, made by his pithy and +sententious description, with the reality. + +The battle ground, the scene of the principal slaughter, was beyond +the _albergo_, and the increasing darkness compelled us to defer a +visit to it till the next morning. Meantime the lake was beautiful. We +were on the eastern side, and the deep-red sky of a departed sunset +over the other shore, was reflected glowingly on the water. All around +was dark, but the light in the sky and lake seemed to have forgotten +to follow. It is a phenomenon peculiar to Italy. The heavens seem +"dyed" and steeped in the glory of the sunset. + +We drank our host's best bottle of wine, the grape plucked from the +battle ground; and if it was not better for the Roman blood that had +manured its ancestor, it was better for some other reason. + +Early the next morning we were on our way, and wound down into the +narrow pass between the lake and the hill, as the sun rose. We crossed +the _Sanguinetto_, a little stream which took its name from the +battle. The principal slaughter was just on its banks, and the hills +are so steep above it, that everybody who fell near must have rolled +into its bed. It crawls on very quietly across the road, its clear +stream scarce interrupted by the wheels of the vetturino, which in +crossing it, passes from the Roman states into Tuscany. I ran a little +up the stream, knelt and drank at a small gurgling fall. The blood of +the old Flaminian Cohort spoiled very delicious water, when it mingled +with that brook. + +We were six days and a half accomplishing the hundred and eighty miles +from Rome to Florence--slow travelling--but not too slow in Italy, +where every stone has its story, and every ascent of a hill its twenty +matchless pictures, sprinkled with ruins, as a painter's eye could not +imagine them. We looked down on the Eden-like valley of the Arno at +sunrise, and again my heart leaped to see the tall dome of Florence, +and the hills all about the queenly city, sparkling with palaces and +bright in a sun that shines nowhere so kindly. If there is a spot in +the world that could wean one from his native home, it is Florence! +"Florence the fair," they call her! I have passed four of the seven +months I have been in Italy, here--and I think I shall pass here as +great a proportion of the rest of my life. There is nothing that can +contribute to comfort and pleasure, that is not within the reach of +the smallest means in Florence. I never saw a place where wealth made +less distinction. The choicest galleries of art in the world, are open +to all comers. The palace of the monarch may be entered and visited, +and enjoyed by all. The ducal gardens of the Boboli, rich in +everything that can refine nature, and commanding views that no land +can equal, cooled by fountains, haunted in every grove by statuary, +are the property of the stranger and the citizen alike. Museums, +laboratories, libraries, grounds, palaces, are all free as Utopia. You +may take any pleasure that others can command, and have any means of +instruction, as free as the common air. Where else would one live so +pleasantly--so profitably--so wisely. + +The society of Florence is of a very fascinating description. The +Florentine nobles have a _casino_, or club-house, to which most of the +respectable strangers are invited, and balls are given there once a +week, frequently by the duke and his court, and the best society of +the place. I attended one on my first arrival from Rome, at which I +saw a proportion of beauty which astonished me. The female +descendants of the great names in Italian history, seem to me to have +almost without exception the mark of noble beauty by nature. The +loveliest woman in Florence is a _Medici_. The two daughters of +_Capponi_, the patriot and the descendant of patriots, are of the +finest order of beauty. I could instance many others, the mention of +whose names, when I have first seen them, has made my blood start. I +think if Italy is ever to be redeemed, she must owe it to her +daughters. The men, the brothers of these women, with very rare +exceptions, look like the slaves they are, from one end of Italy to +the other. + +One of the most hospitable houses here, is that of Prince Poniatowski, +the brother of the hero of Poland. He has a large family, and his +_soirees_ are thronged with all that is fair and distinguished. He is +a venerable, grayheaded old man, of perhaps seventy, very fond of +speaking English, of which rare acquisition abroad he seems a little +vain. He gave me the heartiest welcome as an American, and said he +loved the nation. + +I had the honor of dining, a day or two since, with the Ex-King of +Westphalia, Jerome Bonaparte. He lives here with the title of Prince +Montfort, conferred on him by his father-in-law, the king of +Wurtemburg. Americans are well received at this house also; and his +queen, as the prince still calls her, can never say enough in praise +of the family of Mr. H., our former secretary of legation at Paris. It +is a constantly recurring theme, and ends always with "_J'aime +beaucoup les Americains_." The prince resembles his brother, but has a +milder face, and his mouth is less firm and less beautiful than +Napoleon's. His second son is most remarkably like the emperor. He is +about ten years of age; but except his youth, you can detect no +difference between his head and the busts of his uncle. He has a +daughter of about twelve, and an elder son at the university of +Sienna. His family is large as his queen still keeps up her state, +with the ladies of honor and suite. He never goes out, but his house +is open every night, and the best society of Florence may be met there +almost at the _prima sera_, or early part of the evening. + +The Grand Duke is about to be married, and the court is to be +unusually gay in the carnival. Our countryman, Mr. Thorn, was +presented some time since, and I am to have that honor in two or three +days. By the way, we feel exceedingly in Italy the want of a +_minister_. There is no accredited agent of our government in Tuscany, +and there are rarely less than three hundred Americans within its +dominions. Fortunately the Marquis Corsi, the grand chamberlain of the +duke, offers to act in the capacity of an ambassador, and neglects +nothing for our advantage in such matters, but he never fails to +express his regret that we should not have some _charge d'affaires_ at +his court. We have officers in many parts of the world where they are +much less needed. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[4] The name of a wooden frame by which a pot of coals is hung between +the sheets of a bed in Italy. + +[5] As if everything should be poetical on the shores of the +Clitumnus, the beggars ran after us in quartettes, singing a chaunt, +and sustaining the four parts as they ran. Every child sings well in +Italy; and I have heard worse music in a church anthem, than was made +by these half-clothed and homeless wretches, running at full speed by +the carriage-wheels. I have never met the same thing elsewhere. + + + + +LETTER XLVII. + + FLORENCE--GRAND DUKE OF TUSCANY--THE GRAND CHAMBERLAIN--PRINCE + DE LIGNE--THE AUSTRIAN AMBASSADOR--THE MARQUIS + TORRIGIANI--LEOPOLD OF TUSCANY--VIEWS OF THE VAL + D'ARNO--SPLENDID BALL--TREES OF CANDLES--THE DUKE AND + DUCHESS--HIGHBORN ITALIAN AND ENGLISH BEAUTIES, ETC., ETC. + + +I was presented to the grand Duke of Tuscany yesterday morning, at a +private audience. As we have no minister at this court, I drove alone +to the ducal palace, and, passing through the body-guard of young +nobles, was met at the door of the ante-chamber by the Marquis Corsi, +the grand chamberlain. Around a blazing fire, in this room, stood five +or six persons, in splendid uniforms, to whom I was introduced on +entering. One was the Prince de Ligne--traveling at present in Italy, +and waiting to be presented by the Austrian ambassador--a young and +remarkably handsome man of twenty-five. He showed a knowledge of +America, in the course of a half hour's conversation, which rather +surprised me, inquiring particularly about the residences and +condition of the United States' ministers whom he had met at the +various courts of Europe. The Austrian ambassador, an old, +wily-looking man, covered with orders, joined in the conversation and +asked after our former minister at Paris, Mr. Brown, remarking that he +had done the United States great credit, during his embassy. He had +known Mr. Gallatin also, and spoke highly of him. Mr. Van Buren's +election to the vice-presidency, after his recall, seemed greatly to +surprise him. + +The Prince was summoned to the presence of the Duke, and I remained +some fifteen minutes in conversation with a venerable and +noble-looking man, the Marquis Torrigiani, one of the chamberlains. +His eldest son has lately gone upon his travels in the United States, +in company with Mr. Thorn, an American gentleman living in Florence. +He seemed to think the voyage a great undertaking. Torrigiani is one +of the oldest of the Florentine nobles, and his family is in high +esteem. + +As the Austrian minister came out, the Grand Chamberlain came for me, +and I entered the presence of the Duke. He was standing quite alone in +a small, plain room, dressed in a simple white uniform, with a star +upon his breast--a slender, pale, scholar-like looking young man, of +perhaps thirty years. He received me with a pleasant smile, and +crossing his hands behind him, came close to me, and commenced +questioning me about America. The departure of young Torrigiani for +the United States pleased him, and he said he should like to go +himself--"but," said he, "a voyage of three thousand miles and +back--_comment faire!_" and he threw out his hands with a look of mock +despair that was very expressive. He assured me he felt great pleasure +at Mr. Thorn's having taken up his residence in Florence. He had sent +for his whole family a few days before, and promised them every +attention to their comfort during the absence of Mr. Thorn. He said +young Torrigiani was _bien instruit_, and would travel to advantage, +without doubt. At every pause of his inquiries, he looked me full in +the eyes, and seemed anxious to yield me the _parole_ and listen. He +bowed with a smile, after I had been with him perhaps half an hour, +and I took my leave with all the impressions of his character which +common report had given me, quite confirmed. He is said to be the best +monarch in Europe, and it is written most expressively in his mild, +amiable features. + +The Duke is very unwilling to marry again, although the crown passes +from his family if he die without a male heir. He has two daughters, +lovely children, between five and seven, whose mother died not quite a +year since. She was unusually beloved, both by her husband and his +subjects, and is still talked of by the people, and never without the +deepest regret. She was very religious, and is said to have died of a +cold taken in doing a severe penance. The Duke watched with her day +and night, till she died; and I was told by the old Chamberlain, that +he cannot yet speak of her without tears. + +With the new year, the Grand Duke of Tuscany threw off his mourning. +Not from his countenance, for the sadness of that is habitual; but his +equipages have laid off their black trappings, his grooms and +outriders are in drab and gold, and, more important to us strangers in +his capital, the ducal palace is aired with a weekly reception and +ball, as splendid and hospitable as money and taste can make them. + +Leopold of Tuscany is said to be the richest individual in Europe. The +Palazzo Pitti, in which he lives, seems to confirm it. The exterior is +marked with the character of the times in which it was built, and +might be that of a fortress--its long, dark front of roughly-hewn +stone, with its two slight, out-curving wings, bearing a look of more +strength than beauty. The interior is incalculably rich. The suite of +halls on the front side is the home of the choicest and most extensive +gallery of pictures in the world. The tables of inlaid gems and +mosaic, the walls encrusted with relievos, the curious floors, the +drapery--all satiate the eye with sumptuousness. It is built against a +hill, and I was surprised, on the night of the ball, to find myself +alighting from the carriage upon the same floor to which I had mounted +from the front by tediously long staircases. The Duke thus rides in +his carriage to his upper story--an advantage which saves him no +little fatigue and exposure. The gardens of the Boboli, which cover +the hill behind, rise far above the turrets of the palace, and command +glorious views of the Val d'Arno. + +The reception hour at the ball was from eight to nine. We were +received at the steps on the garden side of the palace, by a crowd of +servants, in livery, under the orders of a fat major-domo, and passing +through a long gallery, lined with exotics and grenadiers, we arrived +at the anteroom, where the Duke's body-guard of nobles were drawn up +in attendance. The band was playing delightfully in the saloon beyond. +I had arrived late, having been presented a few days before, and +desirous of avoiding the stiffness of the first hour of presentation. +The rooms were in a blaze of light from eight _trees_ of candles, +cypress-shaped, and reaching from the floor to the ceiling, and the +company entirely assembled, crowded them with a dazzling show of +jewels, flowers, feathers, and uniforms. + +The Duke and the Grand Duchess (the widow of the late Duke) stood in +the centre of the room, and in the pauses of conversation, the +different ambassadors presented their countrymen. His highness was +dressed in a suit of plain black, probably the worst made clothes in +Florence. With his pale, timid face, his bent shoulders, an +inexpressibly ill-tied cravat, and rank, untrimmed whiskers, he was +the most uncourtly person present. His extreme popularity as a monarch +is certainly very independent of his personal address. His +mother-in-law is about his own age, with marked features, full of +talent, a pale, high forehead, and the bearing altogether of a queen. +She wore a small diadem of the purest diamonds, and with her height +and her flashing jewels, she was conspicuous from every part of the +room. She is a high Catholic, and is said to be bending all her powers +upon the re-establishment of the Jesuits in Florence. + +As soon as the presentations were over, the Grand Duke led out the +wife of the English ambassador, and opened the ball with a waltz. He +then danced a quadrille with the wife of the French ambassador, and +for his next partner selected an _American lady_--the daughter of +Colonel T----, of New York. + +The supper rooms were opened early, and among the delicacies of a +table loaded with everything rare and luxurious, were a brace or two +of pheasants from the Duke's estates in Germany. Duly flavored with +_truffes_, and accompanied with Rhine wines, which deserved the +conspicuous place given them upon the royal table--and in this letter. + +I hardly dare speak of the degree of _beauty_ in the assembly; it is +so difficult to compare a new impression with an old one, and the +thing itself is so indefinite. But there were two persons present +whose extreme loveliness, as it is not disputed even by admiring envy, +may be worth describing, for the sake of the comparison. + +The Princess S---- may be twenty-four years of age. She is of the +middle height, with the slight stoop in her shoulders, which is rather +a grace than a fault. Her bust is exquisitely turned, her neck slender +but full, her arms, hands, and feet, those of a Psyche. Her face is +the abstraction of highborn Italian beauty--calm, almost to +indifference, of an indescribably _glowing paleness_--a complexion +that would be alabaster if it were not for the richness of the blood +beneath, betrayed in lips whose depth of color and fineness of curve +seem only too curiously beautiful to be the work of nature. Her eyes +are dark and large, and must have had an indolent expression in her +childhood, but are now the very seat and soul of feeling. A constant +trace of pain mars the beauty of her forehead. She dresses her hair +with a kind of characteristic departure from the mode, parting its +glossy flakes on her brow with nymph-like simplicity, a peculiarity +which one regrets not to see in the too Parisian dress of her person. +In her manner she is strikingly elegant, but without being absent, she +seems to give an unconscious attention to what is about her, and to be +gracious and winning without knowing or intending it, merely because +she could not listen or speak otherwise. Her voice is sweet, and, in +her own Italian, mellow and soft to a degree inconceivable by those +who have not heard this delicious language spoken in its native land. +With all these advantages, and a look of pride that nothing could +insult, there is an expression in her beautiful face that reminds you +of her sex and its temptations, and prepares you fully for the history +which you may hear from the first woman that stands at your elbow. + +The other is that English girl of seventeen, shrinking timidly from +the crowd, and leaning with her hands clasped over her father's arm, +apparently listening only to the waltz, and unconscious that every eye +is fixed upon her in admiration. She has lived all her life in Italy, +but has been bred by an English mother, in a retired villa of the Val +d'Arno--her character and feelings are those of her race, and nothing +of Italy about her, but the glow of its sunny clime in the else +spotless snow of her complexion, and an enthusiasm in her downcast eye +that you may account for as you will--it is not English! Her form has +just ripened into womanhood. The bust still wants fullness, and the +step confidence. Her forehead is rather too intellectual to be +maidenly; but the droop of her singularly long eye-lashes over eyes +that elude the most guarded glance of your own, and the modest +expression of her lips closed but not pressed together, redeem her +from any look of conscious superiority, and convince you that she only +seeks to be unobserved. A single ringlet of golden brown hair falls +nearly to her shoulder, catching the light upon its glossy curves with +an effect that would enchant a painter. Lilies of the valley, the +first of the season, are in her bosom and her hair, and she might be +the personification of the flower for delicacy and beauty. You are +only disappointed in talking with her. She expresses herself with a +nerve and self-command, which, from a slight glance, you did not +anticipate. She shrinks from the general eye, but in conversation she +is the high-minded woman more than the timid child for which her +manner seems to mark her. In either light, she is the very presence of +purity. She stands by the side of her not less beautiful rival, like a +Madonna by a Magdalen--both seem not at home in the world, but only +one could have dropped from heaven. + + + + +LETTER XLVIII. + + VALLOMBROSA--ITALIAN OXEN--CONVENT--SERVICE IN THE + CHAPEL--HOUSE OCCUPIED BY MILTON. + + +I left Florence for Vallombrosa at daylight on a warm summer's +morning, in company with four ladies. We drove along the northern bank +of the Arno for four or five miles, passing several beautiful villas, +belonging to the Florentine nobles; and, crossing the river by a +picturesque bridge, took the road to the village of Pelago, which lies +at the foot of the mountain, and is the farthest point to which a +carriage can mount. It is about fourteen miles from Florence, and the +ascent thence to the convent is nearly three. + +We alighted in the centre of the village, in the midst of a ragged +troop of women and children, among whom were two idiot beggars; and, +while the preparations were making for our ascent, we took chairs in +the open square around a basket of cherries, and made a delicious +luncheon of fruit and bread, very much to the astonishment of some two +hundred spectators. + +Our conveyances appeared in the course of half an hour, consisting of +two large baskets, each drawn by a pair of oxen and containing two +persons, and a small Sardinian pony. The ladies seated themselves with +some hesitation in their singular sledges; I mounted the pony, and we +made a dusty exit from Pelago, attended to the gate by our gaping +friends, who bowed, and wished us the _bon viaggio_ with more +gratitude than three Tuscan _crazie_ would buy, I am sure, in any +other part of the world. + +The gray oxen of Italy are quite a different race from ours, much +lighter and quicker, and in a small vehicle they will trot off five or +six miles in the hour as freely as a horse. They are exceedingly +beautiful. The hide is very fine, of a soft squirrel gray, and as +sleek and polished often as that of a well-groomed courser. With their +large, bright, intelligent eyes, high-lifted heads, and open nostrils, +they are among the finest-looking animals in the world in motion. We +soon came to the steep path, and the facility with which our singular +equipages mounted was surprising. I followed, as well as I could, on +my diminutive pony, my feet touching the ground, and my balance +constantly endangered by the contact of stumps and stones--the +hard-mouthed little creature taking his own way, in spite of every +effort of mine to the contrary. + +We stopped to breathe in a deep, cool glen, which lay across our path, +the descent into which was very difficult. The road through the bottom +of it ran just above the bank of a brook, into which poured a pretty +fall of eight or ten feet, and with the spray-wet grass beneath, and +the full-leaved chestnuts above, it was as delicious a spot for a rest +in a summer noontide as I ever saw. The ladies took out their pencils +and sketched it, making a group themselves the while, which added all +the picture wanted. + +The path wound continually about in the deep woods, with which the +mountain is covered, and occasionally from an opening we obtained a +view back upon the valley of the Arno, which was exceedingly fine. We +came in sight of the convent in about two hours, emerging from the +shade of the thick chestnuts into a cultivated lawn, fenced and mown +with the nicety of the grass-plot before a cottage, and entering upon +a smooth, well-swept pavement, approached the gate of the +venerable-looking pile, as anxious for the refreshment of its +far-famed hospitality as ever pilgrims were. + +An old cheerful-looking monk came out to meet us, and shaking hands +with the ladies very cordially, assisted in extracting them from their +cramped conveyances. He then led the way to a small stone cottage, a +little removed from the convent, quoting gravely by the way the law of +the order against the entrance of females over the monastic threshold. +We were ushered into a small, neat parlor, with two bedrooms +communicating, and two of the servants of the monastery followed, with +water and snow-white napkins, the _padre degli forestieri_, as they +called the old monk, who received us, talking most volubly all the +while. + +The cook appeared presently with a low reverence, and asked what we +would like for dinner. He ran over the contents of the larder before +we had time to answer his question, enumerating half a dozen kinds of +game, and a variety altogether that rather surprised our ideas of +monastical severity. His own rosy gills bore testimony that it was not +the kitchen of Dennis Bulgruddery. + +While dinner was preparing, Father Gasparo proposed a walk. An avenue +of the most majestic trees opened immediately away from the little +lawn before the cottage door. We followed it perhaps half a mile round +the mountain, threading a thick pine forest, till we emerged on the +edge of a shelf of greensward, running just under the summit of the +hill. From this spot the view was limited only by the power of the +eye. The silver line of the Mediterranean off Leghorn is seen hence on +a clear day, between which and the mountain lie sixty or seventy +miles, wound into the loveliest undulations by the course of the Arno. +The vale of this beautiful river, in which Florence stands, was just +distinguishable as a mere dell in the prospect. It was one of the +sultriest days of August, but the air was vividly fresh, and the sun, +with all the strength of the climate of Italy, was unoppressive. We +seated ourselves on the small fine grass of the hillside, and with the +good old monk narrating passages of his life, enjoyed the glorious +scene till the cook's messenger summoned us back to dinner. + +We were waited upon at table by two young servitors of the convent, +with shaven crowns and long black cassocks, under the direction of +Father Gasparo, who sat at a little distance, entertaining us with his +inexhaustible stories till the bell rung for the convent supper. The +dinner would have graced the table of an emperor. Soup, beef, cutlets, +ducks, woodcocks, followed each other, cooked in the most approved +manner, with all the accompaniments established by taste and usage; +and better wine, white and red, never was pressed from the Tuscan +grape. The dessert was various and plentiful; and while we were +sitting, after the good father's departure, wondering at the luxuries +we had found on a mountain-top, strong coffee and _liqueurs_ were set +before us, both of the finest flavor. + +I was to sleep myself in the convent. Father Gasparo joined us upon +the wooden bench in the avenue, where we were enjoying a brilliant +sunset, and informed me that the gates shut at eight. The vesper-bell +soon rung, echoing round from the rocks, and I bade my four companions +good night, and followed the monk to the cloisters. As we entered the +postern, he asked me whether I would go directly to the cell, or +attend first the service in the chapel, assisting my decision at the +same time by gently slipping his arm through mine and drawing me +toward the cloth door, from which a strong peal of the organ was +issuing. + +We lifted the suspended curtain, and entered a chapel so dimly lit, +that I could only judge of its extent from the reverberations of the +music. The lamps were all in the choir, behind the altar, and the +shuffling footsteps of the gathering monks approached it from every +quarter. Father Gasparo led me to the base of a pillar, and telling me +to kneel, left me and entered the choir, where he was lost in the +depth of one of the old richly-carved seats for a few minutes, +appearing again with thirty or forty others, who rose and joined in +the chorus of the chant, making the hollow roof ring with the deep +unmingled base of their voices. + +I stood till I was chilled, listening to the service, and looking at +the long line of monks rising and sitting, with their monotonous +changes of books and positions, and not knowing which way to go for +warmth or retirement. I wandered up and down the dim church during the +remaining hour, an unwilling, but not altogether an unamused spectator +of the scene. The performers of the service, with the exception of +Father Gasparo, were young men from sixteen to twenty; but during my +slow turns to and fro on the pavement of the church, fifteen or twenty +old monks entered, and, with a bend of the knee before the altar went +off into the obscure corners, and knelt motionless at prayer, for +almost an hour. I could just distinguish the dark outline of their +figures when my eye became accustomed to the imperfect light, and I +never saw a finer spectacle of religious devotion. + +The convent clock struck ten, and shutting up their "clasped missals," +the young monks took their cloaks about them, bent their knees in +passing the altar, and disappeared by different doors. Father Gasparo +was the last to depart, and our footsteps echoed as we passed through +the long cloisters to the cell appropriated for me. We opened one of +some twenty small doors, and I was agreeably surprised to find a +supper of cold game upon the table, with a bottle of wine, and two +plates--the monk intending to give me his company at supper. The cell +was hung round with bad engravings of the Virgin, the death of +martyrs, crosses, &c., and a small oaken desk stood against the wall +beneath a large crucifix, with a prayer-book upon it. The bed was +high, ample, and spotlessly white, and relieved the otherwise +comfortless look of a stone floor and white-washed walls. I felt the +change from summer heat to the keen mountain air, and as I shivered +and buttoned my coat, my gay guest threw over me his heavy black cowl +of cloth--a dress that, with its closeness and numerous folds, would +keep one warm in Siberia. Adding to it his little black scull-cap, he +told me, with a hearty laugh, that but for a certain absence of +sanctity in the expression of my face, and the uncanonical length of +my hair, I looked the monk complete. We had a merry supper. The wine +was of a choicer vintage than that we had drank at dinner, and the +father answered, upon my discovery of its merits, that he _never +wasted it upon women_. + +In the course of the conversation, I found out that my entertainer was +a kind of butler, or head-servitor of the convent, and that the great +body of the monks were of noble lineage. The feeling of pride still +remains among them from the days when the Certosa of Vallombrosa was a +residence for princes, before its splendid pictures were pillaged by a +foreign army, its wealth scattered, and its numbers diminished. "In +those days," said the monk, "we received nothing for our hospitality +but the pleasure it gave us"--relieving my mind, by the remark, of +what I looked forward to at parting as a delicate point. + +My host left me at midnight, and I went to bed, and slept under a +thick covering in an Italian August. "The blanched linen, white and +lavendered," seemed to have a peculiar charm, for though I had +promised to meet my excluded companions at sunrise, on the top of the +mountain, I slept soundly till nine, and was obliged to breakfast +alone in the refectory of the convent. + +We were to dine at three, and start for Florence at four the next day, +and we spent our morning in traversing the mountain paths, and getting +views on every side. Fifty or a hundred feet above the convent, +perched on a rock like an eyry, stands a small building in which +Milton is supposed to have lived, during his six weeks sojourn at the +convent. It is now fitted up as a nest of small chapels--every one of +its six or eight little chambers having an altar. The ladies were not +permitted to enter it. I selected the room I presumed the poet must +have chosen--the only one commanding the immense view to the west, +and, looking from the window, could easily feel the truth of his +simile, "thick as leaves in Vallombrosa." It is a mountain of foliage. + +Another sumptuous dinner was served, Father Gasparo sitting by, even +more voluble than before, the baskets and the pony were brought to the +door, and we bade farewell to the old monk with more regret than a +day's acquaintance often produces. We reached our carriage in an hour, +and were in Florence at eight--having passed, by unanimous opinion, +the two brightest days in our calendar of travel. + + + + +LETTER XLIX. + + HOUSE OF MICHAEL ANGELO--THE ANCIENT CHURCH OF SAN + MINIATO--MADAME CATALANI--WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR--MIDNIGHT MASS, + ETC. + + +I went with a party this morning to visit _the house of Michael +Angelo_. It stands as he lived in it, in the Via Ghibellini, and is +still in possession of his descendants. It is a neat building of three +stories, divided on the second floor into three rooms, shown as those +occupied by the painter, sculptor, and poet. The first is panelled and +painted by his scholars after his death--each picture representing +some incident of his life. There are ten or twelve of these, and +several of them are highly beautiful. One near the window represents +him in his old age on a visit to "Lorenzo the Magnificent," who +commands him to sit in his presence. The Duke is standing before his +chair, and the figure of the old man is finely expressive. + +The next room appears to have been his parlor, and the furniture is +exactly as it stood when he died. In one corner is placed a bust of +him in his youth, with his face perfect; and opposite, another, taken +from a cast after his nose was broken by a fellow painter in the +church of the Carmine. There are also one or two portraits of him, and +the resemblance through them all, shows that the likeness we have of +him in the engravings are uncommonly correct. + +In the inner room, which was his studio, they show his pallet, +brushes, pots, maul-sticks, slippers, and easel--all standing +carelessly in the little closets around, as if he had left them but +yesterday. The walls are painted in fresco, by Angelo himself, and +represent groups of all the distinguished philosophers, poets and +statesmen of his time. Among them are the heads of Petrarch, Dante, +Galileo, and Lorenzo de Medici. It is a noble gallery! perhaps a +hundred heads in all. + +The descendant of Buonarotti is now an old man, and fortunately rich +enough to preserve the house of his great ancestor as an object of +curiosity. He has a son, I believe studying the arts at Rome. + + * * * * * + +On a beautiful hill which ascends directly from one of the southern +gates of Florence, stands a church built so long ago as at the close +of the first century. The gate, church, and hill, are all called San +Miniato, after a saint buried under the church pavement. A large, and +at present flourishing convent, hangs on the side of the hill below, +and around the church stand the walls of a strong fortress, built by +Michael Angelo. A half mile or more south, across a valley, an old +tower rises against the sky, which was erected for the observations of +Galileo. A mile to the left, on the same ridge, an old villa is to be +seen in which Boccaccio wrote most of his "Hundred Tales of Love." +The Arno comes down from Vallombrosa, and passing through Florence at +the foot of San Miniato, is seen for three miles further on its way to +Pisa; the hill, tower, and convent of Fiesole, where Milton studied +and Catiline encamped with his conspirators, rise from the opposite +bank of the river; and right below, as if you could leap into the +lantern of the dome, nestles the lovely city of Florence, in the lap +of the very brightest vale that ever mountain sheltered or river ran +through. Such are the temptations to a _walk in Italy_, and add to it +the charms of the climate, and you may understand one of a hundred +reasons why it is the land of poetry and romance, and why it so easily +becomes the land of a stranger's affection. + +The villas which sparkle all over the hills which lean unto Florence, +are occupied mainly by foreigners living here for health or luxury, +and most of them are known and visited by the floating society of the +place. Among them are Madame Catalani, the celebrated singer, who +occupies a beautiful palace on the ascent of Fiesole, and Walter +Savage Landor, the author of the "Imaginary Conversations," as refined +a scholar perhaps as is now living, who is her near neighbor. A +pleasant family of my acquaintance lives just back of the fortress of +San Miniato, and in walking out to them with a friend yesterday, I +visited the church again, and remarked more particularly the features +of the scene I have described. + +The church of San Miniato was built by Henry I. of Germany, and +Cunegonde his wife. The front is pretty--a kind of mixture of Greek +and Arabic architecture, crusted with marble. The interior is in the +style of the primitive churches, the altar standing in what was called +the _presbytery_, a high platform occupying a third of the nave, with +two splendid flights of stairs of the purest white marble. The most +curious part of it is the rotunda in the rear, which is lit by five +windows of transparent oriental alabaster, each eight or nine feet +high and three broad, in single slabs. The sun shone full on one of +them while we were there, and the effect was inconceivably rich. It +was like a sheet of half molten gold and silver. The transparency of +course was irregular, but in the yellow spots of the stone the light +came through like the effect of deeply stained glass. + +A partly subterranean chapel, six or eight feet lower than the +pavement of the church, extends under the presbytery. It is a +labyrinth of marble columns which support the platform above, no two +of which are alike. The ancient cathedral of Modena is the only church +I have seen in Italy built in the same manner. + + * * * * * + +The _midnight mass_ on "Christmas eve," is abused in all catholic +countries, I believe, as a kind of saturnalia of gallantry. I joined a +party of young men who were leaving a ball for the church of the +Annunciata, the fashionable rendezvous, and we were set down at the +portico when the mass was about half over. The entrances of the open +vestibule were thronged to suffocation. People of all ages and +conditions were crowding in and out, and the sound of the distant +chant at the altar came to our ears as we entered, mingled with every +tone of address and reply from the crowd about us. The body of the +church was quite obscured with the smoke of the incense. We edged our +way on through the press, carried about in the open area of the church +by every tide that rushed in from the various doors, till we stopped +in a thick eddy in the centre, almost unable to stir a limb. I could +see the altar very clearly from this point, and I contented myself +with merely observing what was about me, leaving my motions to the +impulse of the crowd. + +It was a curiously mingled scene. The ceremonies of the altar were +going on in all their mysterious splendor. The waving of censers, the +kneeling and rising of the gorgeously clad priests, accompanied +simultaneously by the pealing of solemn music from the different +organs--the countless lights burning upon the altar, and, ranged +within the paling, a semicircle of the duke's grenadiers, standing +motionless, with their arms presented, while the sentinel paced to and +fro, and all kneeling, and grounding arms at the tinkle of the slight +bell--were the materials for the back-ground of the picture. In the +immense area of the church stood perhaps, four thousand people, one +third of whom, doubtless, came to worship. Those who did and those who +did not, dropped alike upon the marble pavement at the sound of the +bell; and then, as I was heretic enough to stand, I had full +opportunity for observing both devotion and intrigue. The latter was +amusingly managed. Almost all the pretty and young women were +accompanied by an ostensible duenna, and the methods of eluding their +vigilance in communication were various. I had detected under a +_blond_ wig, in entering, the young ambassador of a foreign court, who +being _cavaliere servente_ to one of the most beautiful women in +Florence, certainly had no right to the amusement of the hour. We had +been carried up the church in the same tide, and when the whole crowd +were prostrate, I found him just beyond me, slipping a card into the +shoe of an uncommonly pretty girl kneeling before him. She was +attended by both father and mother apparently, but as she gave no sign +of surprise, except stealing an almost imperceptible glance behind +her, I presumed she was not offended. I passed an hour, perhaps, in +amused observation of similar matters, most of which could not be well +described on paper. It is enough to say, that I do not think more +dissolute circumstances accompanied the worship of Venus in the most +defiled of heathen temples. + + + + +LETTER L. + + FLORENCE--VISIT TO THE CHURCH OF SAN GAETANO--PENITENTIAL + PROCESSIONS--THE REFUGEE CARLISTS--THE MIRACLE OF RAIN--CHURCH + OF THE ANNUNCIATA--TOMB OF GIOVANNI DI BOLOGNA--MASTERPIECE OF + ANDREA DEL SARTO, ETC., ETC. + + +I heard the best passage of the opera of "Romeo and Juliet" +delightfully played in the church of _San Gaetano_ this morning. I was +coming from the _cafe_, where I had been breakfasting, when the sound +of the organ drew me in. The communion was administering at one of the +side chapels, the showy Sunday mass was going on at the great altar, +and the numerous confession boxes were full of penitents, _all +female_, as usual. As I took a seat near the communicants, the sacred +wafer was dipped into the cup and put into the mouth of a young woman +kneeling before the railing. She rose soon after, and I was not +lightly surprised to find it was a certain errand-girl of a bachelor's +washerwoman, as unfit a person for the holy sacrament as wears a +petticoat in Florence. + +I was drawn by the agreeable odor of the incense to the paling of the +high altar. The censers were flung by unseen hands from the doors of +the sacristy at the sides, and an unseen chorus of boys in the choir +behind, broke in occasionally with the high-keyed chant that echoes +with its wild melody from every arch and corner of these immense +churches. It seems running upon the highest note that the ear can +bear, and yet nothing could be more musical. A man knelt on the +pavement near me, with two coarse baskets beside him, and the traces +of long and dirty travel from his heels to his hips. He had stopped in +to the mass, probably, on his way to market. There can be no greater +contrast than that seen in Catholic churches, between the splendor of +architecture, renowned pictures, statues and ornaments of silver and +gold, and the crowd of tattered, famished, misery-marked worshippers +that throng them. I wonder it never occurs to them, that the costly +pavement upon which they kneel might feed and clothe them.[6] + +Penitential processions are to be met all over Florence to-day, on +account of the uncommon degree of sickness. One of them passed under +my window just now. They are composed of people of all classes, upon +whom it is inflicted as a penance by the priests. A white robe covers +them entirely, even the face, and, with their eyes glaring through the +two holes made for that purpose, they look like processions of +shrouded corpses. Eight of the first carry burning candles of six feet +in length, and a company in the rear have the church books, from which +they chant, the whole procession joining in a melancholy chorus of +three notes. It rains hard to-day, and their white dresses cling to +them with a ludicrously ungraceful effect. + +Florence is an unhealthful climate in the winter. The tramontane winds +come down from the Appenines so sharply, that delicate constitutions, +particularly those liable to pulmonary complaints, suffer invariably. +There has been a dismal mortality among the Italians. The Marquis +Corsi, who presented me at court a week ago (the last day he was out, +and the last duty he performed), lies in state, at this moment, in the +church of Santa Trinita, and another of the duke's counsellors of +state died a few days before. His prime minister, Fossombroni, is +dangerously ill also, and all of the same complaint, the _mal di +petto_, as it is called, or disease of the lungs. Corsi is a great +loss to Americans. He was the grand chamberlain of court, wealthy and +hospitable, and took particular pride in fulfilling the functions of +an American ambassador. He was a courtier of the old school, +accomplished, elegant, and possessed of universal information. + + * * * * * + +The _refugee Carlists_ are celebrating to-day, in the church of Santa +Maria Novella, the anniversary of the death of _Louis XVI_. The bishop +of Strasbourg is here, and is performing high mass for the soul of the +"_martyr_," as they term him. Italy is full of the more aristocratic +families of France, and it has become _mauvais ton_ in society to +advocate the present government of France, or even its principles. +They detest Louis Philippe with the virulence of a deadly private +enmity, and declare universally, that they will exile themselves till +they can return to overthrow him. Among the refugees are great numbers +of young men, who are sent away from home with a chivalrous devotion +to the cause of the Duchess of Berri, which they avow so constantly in +the circles of Italian society, that she seems the exclusive heroine +of the day. There was nothing seen of the French exquisites in +Florence for a week after she was taken. They were in mourning for the +misfortune of their mistress. + + * * * * * + +All Florence is ringing with _the miracle_. The city fountains have +for some days been dry, and the whole country was suffering for rain. +_The day before the moon changed_, the procession began, and the day +after, when the sky was full of clouds, the holy picture in the church +of the Annunciata, "painted by St. Luke himself," was solemnly +uncovered. The result was the present miracle of _rain_, and the +priests are preaching upon it from every pulpit. The _padrone_ of my +lodgings came in this morning, and told me the circumstances with the +most serious astonishment. + +I joined the crowd this morning, who are still thronging up the _via +de Servi_ to the church of the Annunciata at all hours of the day. The +square in front of the church was like a fair--every nook occupied +with the little booths of the sellers of rosaries, saints books, and +pictures. We were assailed by a troop of pedlars at the door, holding +leaden medals and crucifixes, and crying, at the top of their voices, +for _fidele Christiani_ to spend a crazie for the love of God. + +After crowding up the long cloister with a hundred or two of wretches, +steaming from the rain, and fresh from every filthy occupation in the +city, we were pushed under the suspended leather door, and reached the +nave of the church. In the slow progress we made toward the altar, I +had full opportunity to study the fretted-gold ceiling above me, the +masterly pictures in the side chapels, the statuary, carving, and +general architecture. Description can give you no idea of the waste +of splendor in these places. + +I stood at last within sight of the miraculous picture. It is painted +in fresco, above an altar surrounded with a paling of bronze and +marble projecting into the body of the church. Eight or ten massive +silver lamps, each one presented by some _trade_ in Florence, hung +from the roof of the chapel, burning with a dusky glare in the +daylight. A grenadier, with cap and musket, stood on each side of the +bronze gate, repressing the eager rush of the crowd. Within, at the +side of the altar, stood the officiating priest, a man with a look of +intellect and nobleness on his fine features and lofty forehead, that +seemed irreconcilable with the folly he was performing. The devotees +came in, one by one, as they were admitted by the sentinel, knelt, +offered their rosary to the priest, who touched it to the frame of the +picture with one hand, and received their money with the other, and +then crossing themselves, and pressing the beads to their bosom, +passed out at the small door leading into the cloisters. + +As the only chance of seeing the picture, I bought a rosary for two +crazie (about three cents), and pressed into the throng. In a half +hour it came to my turn to pass the guard. The priest took my silver +paul, and while he touched the beads to the picture, I had a moment to +look at it nearly. I could see nothing but a confused mass of black +paint, with an indistinct outline of the head of the Madonna in the +centre. The large spiked rays of glory standing out from every side +were all I could see in the imperfect light. The richness of the +chapel itself, however, was better worth the trouble to see. It is +quite encrusted with silver. Silver _bassi relievi_, two silver +candelabra, six feet in height, two very large silver statues of +angels, a _ciborio_ (enclosing a most exquisite head of our Saviour, +by _Andrea del Sarto_), a massive silver cornice sustaining a heavily +folded silver curtain, and silver lilies and lamps in any quantity all +around. I wonder, after the plundering of the church of San Antonio, +at Padua, that these useless riches escaped Napoleon. + +How some of the priests, who are really learned and clever men, can +lend themselves to such barefaced imposture as this miracle, it is +difficult to conceive. The picture has been kept as a doer of these +miracles, perhaps for a century. It is never uncovered in vain. +Supernatural results are certain to follow, and it is done as often as +they dare to make a fresh draught on the credulity and money of the +people. The story is as follows: "A certain Bartolomeo, while painting +a fresco of the annunciation, being at a loss how to make the +countenance of the Madonna properly seraphic, fell asleep while +pondering over his work; and, on waking, found it executed in a style +he was unable to equal." I can only say that St. Luke, or the angel, +or whoever did it, was a very indifferent draughtsman. It is ill +drawn, and whatever the colors might have been upon the pallet of the +sleepy painter, they were not made immortal by angelic use. It is a +mass of confused black. + +I was glad to get away from the crowd and their mummery, and pay a new +tribute of reverence at the tomb of _Giovanni di Bologna_. He is +buried behind the grand altar, in a chapel ornamented at his own +expense, and with his own inimitable works. Six bas-reliefs in bronze, +than which life itself is not more natural, represent different +passages of our Saviour's history. They were done for the Grand Duke, +who, at the death of the artist, liberally gave them to ornament his +tomb. After the authors of the Venus and the Apollo Belvidere, John of +Bologna is, in my judgment, the greatest of sculptors. His _mounting +Mercury_, in the Florence gallery, might have been a theft from heaven +for its divine beauty. + +In passing out by the cloisters of the adjoining convent, I stopped a +moment to see the fresco of the _Madonna del Sacco_, said to have been +the masterpiece of _Andrea del Sarto_. Michael Angelo and Raphael are +said to have "gazed at it unceasingly." It is much defaced, and +preserves only its graceful drawing. The countenance of Mary has the +_beau reste_ of singular loveliness. The models of this delightful +artist (who, by the way, is buried in the vestibule of this same +church), must have been the most beautiful in the world. All his +pictures move the heart. + + +FOOTNOTE: + +[6] The Tuscans, who are the best governed people in Italy, pay +_twenty per cent._ of their property in taxes--paying the whole value +of their estates, of course, in five years. The extortions of the +priests, added to this, are sufficiently burdensome. + + + + +LETTER LI. + + FLORENTINE PECULIARITIES--SOCIETY--BALLS--DUCAL + ENTERTAINMENTS--PRIVILEGE OF STRANGERS--FAMILIES OF HIGH + RANK--THE EXCLUSIVES--SOIREES--PARTIES OF A RICH + BANKER--PEASANT BEAUTY--VISITERS OF A BARONESS--AWKWARD + DEPORTMENT OF A PRINCE--A CONTENTED MARRIED LADY--HUSBANDS, + CAVALIERS, AND WIVES--PERSONAL MANNERS--HABITS OF SOCIETY, + ETC. + + +I am about starting on my second visit to Rome, after having passed +nearly three months in Florence. As I have seen most of the society of +this gayest and fairest of the Italian cities, it may not be +uninteresting to depart a little from the traveller's routine by +sketching a feature or two. + +Florence is a resort for strangers from every part of the world. The +gay society is a mixture of all nations, of whom one third may be +Florentine, one third English, and the remaining part equally divided +between Russians, Germans, French, Poles, and Americans. The English +entertain a great deal, and give most of the balls and dinner parties. +The Florentines seldom trouble themselves to give parties, but are +always at home for visits in the _prima sera_ (from seven till nine), +and in their box at the opera. They go, without scruple, to all the +strangers' balls, considering courtesy repaid, perhaps, by the weekly +reception of the Grand Duke, and a weekly ball at the club-house of +young Italian noblemen. + +The ducal entertainments occur every Tuesday, and are the most +splendid of course. The foreign ministers present all of their +countrymen who have been presented at their own courts, and the +company is necessarily more select than elsewhere. The Florentines who +go to court are about seven hundred, of whom half are invited on each +week--strangers, when once presented, having the double privilege of +coming uninvited to all. There are several Italian families, of the +highest rank, who are seen only here; but, with the single exception +of one unmarried girl, of uncommon beauty, who bears a name celebrated +in Italian history, they are no loss to general society. Among the +foreigners of rank, are three or four German princes, who play high +and waltz well, and are remarkable for nothing else; half a dozen +star-wearing dukes, counts, and marquises, of all nations and in any +quantity, and a few English noblemen and noble ladies--only the latter +nation showing their blood at all in their features and bearing. + +The most exclusive society is that of the Prince Montfort (Jerome +Bonaparte), whose splendid palace is shut entirely against the +English, and difficult of access to all. He makes a single exception +in favor of a descendant of the Talbots, a lady whose beauty might be +an apology for a much graver departure from rule. He has given two +grand entertainments since the carnival commenced, to which nothing +was wanting but people to enjoy them. The immense rooms were flooded +with light, the music was the best Florence could give, the supper +might have supped an army--stars and red ribands entered with every +fresh comer, but it looked like a "banquet hall deserted." Some thirty +ladies, and as many men, were all that Florence contained worthy of +the society of the Ex-King. A kinder man in his manners, however, or +apparently a more affectionate husband and father, I never saw. He +opened the dance by waltzing with the young Princess, his daughter, a +lovely girl of fourteen, of whom he seems fond to excess, and he was +quite the gayest person in the company till the ball was over. The +Ex-Queen, who is a miracle of size, sat on a divan, with her ladies of +honor about her, following her husband with her eyes, and enjoying his +gayety with the most childish good humor. + +The Saturday evening _soirees_, at Prince Poniatowski's (a brother of +the hero), are perhaps as agreeable as any in Florence. He has several +grown-up sons and daughters married, and, with a very sumptuous palace +and great liberality of style, he has made his parties more than +usually valued. His eldest daughter is the leader of the fashion, and +his second is the "cynosure of all eyes." The old Prince is a tall, +bent, venerable man, with snow-white hair, and very peculiarly marked +features. He is fond of speaking English, and professes a great +affection for America. + +Then there are the _soirees_ of the rich banker, Fenzi, which, as they +are subservient to business, assemble all ranks on the common +pretensions of interest. At the last, I saw, among other curiosities, +a young girl of eighteen from one of the more common families of +Florence--a fine specimen of the peasant beauty of Italy. Her heavily +moulded figure, hands, and feet, were quite forgiven when you looked +at her dark, deep, indolent eye, and glowing skin, and strongly-lined +mouth and forehead. The society was evidently new to her, but she had +a manner quite beyond being astonished. It was the kind of _animal +dignity_ so universal in the lower classes of this country. + +A German baroness of high rank receives on the Mondays, and here one +sees foreign society in its highest coloring. The prettiest woman that +frequents her parties, is a Genoese marchioness, who has _left her +husband_ to live with a Lucchese count, who has _left his wife_. He is +a very accomplished man, with the look of Mephistopheles in the +"Devil's Walk," and she is certainly a most fascinating woman. She is +received in most of the good society of Florence--a severe, though a +very just comment on its character. A Prince, the brother of the King +of ----, divided the attention of the company with her last Monday. He +is a tall, military-looking man, with very bad manners, ill at ease, +and impudent at the same time. He entered with his suite in the middle +of a song. The singer stopped, the company rose, the Prince swept +about, bowing like a dancing-master, and, after the sensation had +subsided, the ladies were taken up and presented to him, one by one. +He asked them all the same question, stayed through two songs, which +he spoiled by talking loudly all the while, and then bowed himself out +in the same awkward style, leaving everybody more happy for his +departure. + +One gains little by his opportunities of meeting Italian ladies in +society. The _cavaliere servente_ flourishes still as in the days of +Beppo, and it is to him only that the lady condescends to _talk_. +There is a delicate, refined-looking, little marchioness here, who is +remarkable as being the only known Italian lady without a cavalier. +They tell you, with an amused smile, "that she is content with her +husband." It really seems to be a business of real love between the +lady of Italy and her cavalier. Naturally enough too--for her parents +marry her without consulting her at all, and she selects a friend +afterward, as ladies in other countries select a lover who is to end +in a husband. The married couple are never seen together by any +accident, and the lady and her cavalier never apart. The latter is +always invited with her as a matter of course, and the husband, if +there is room, or if he is not forgotten. She is insulted if asked +without a cavalier, but is quite indifferent whether her husband goes +with her or not. These are points _really settled_ in the policy of +society, and the rights of the cavalier are specified in the marriage +contracts. I had thought, until I came to Italy, that such things were +either a romance, or customs of an age gone by. + +I like very much the personal manners of the Italians. They are mild +and courteous to the farthest extent of looks and words. They do not +entertain, it is true, but their great dim rooms are free to you +whenever you can find them at home, and you are at liberty to join the +gossiping circle around the lady of the house, or sit at the table and +read, or be silent unquestioned. You are _let alone_, if you seem to +choose it, and it is neither commented on, nor thought uncivil, and +this I take to be a grand excellence in manners. + +The society is dissolute, I think, almost without an exception. The +English fall into its habits, with the difference that they do not +conceal it so well, and have the appearance of knowing its +wrong--which the Italians have not. The latter are very much shocked +at the want of propriety in the management of the English. To suffer +the particulars of an intrigue to get about is a worse sin, in their +eyes, than any violation of the commandments. It is scarce possible +for an American to conceive the universal corruption of a society +like this of Florence, though, if he were not told of it he would +think it all that was delicate and attractive. There are external +features in which the society of our own country is far less +scrupulous and proper. + + + + +LETTER LII. + + SIENNA--POGGIOBONSI--BONCONVENTO--ENCOURAGEMENT OF FRENCH + ARTISTS BY THEIR GOVERNMENT--ACQUAPENDENTE--POOR BEGGAR, THE + ORIGINAL OF A SKETCH BY COLE--BOLSENA--VOLSCENIUM--SCENERY-- + CURIOUS STATE OF THE CHESTNUT WOODS. + + +SIENNA.--A day and a half on my second journey to Rome. With a party +of four nations inside, and two strangers, probably Frenchmen, in the +cabriolet, we have jogged on at some three miles in the hour, enjoying +the lovely scenery of these lower Appenines at our leisure. We slept +last night at Poggiobonsi, a little village on a hill-side, and +arrived at Sienna for our mid-day rest. I pencil this note after an +hour's ramble over the city, visiting once more the cathedral, with +its encrusted marbles and naked graces, and the shell-shaped square in +the centre of the city, at the rim of which the eight principal +streets terminate. There is a fountain in the midst, surrounded with +_bassi relievi_ much disfigured. It was mentioned by Dante. The +streets were deserted, it being Sunday, and all the people at the +Corso, to see the racing of horses without riders. + +BONCONVENTO.--We sit, with the remains of a traveller's supper on the +table--six very social companions. Our cabriolet friends are two +French artists, on their way to study at Rome. They are both +pensioners of the government, each having gained the annual prize at +the academy in his separate branch of art, which entitles him to five +years' support in Italy. They are full of enthusiasm, and converse +with all the amusing vivacity of their nation. The academy of France +send out in this manner five young men annually, who have gained the +prizes for painting, sculpture, architecture, music, and engraving. + +This is the place where Henry the Seventh of Germany was poisoned by a +monk, on his way to Rome. The drug was given to him in the communion +cup. The "Ave Marie" was ringing when we drove into town, and I left +the carriage and followed the crowd, in the hope of finding an old +church where the crime might have been committed. But the priest was +mumbling the service in a new chapel, which no romance that I could +summon would picture as the scene of a tragedy. + + * * * * * + +ACQUAPENDENTE.--While the dirty customhouse officer is deciphering our +passports, in a hole a dog would live in unwillingly, I take out my +pencil to mark once more the pleasure I have received from the +exquisite scenery of this place. The wild rocks enclosing the little +narrow valley below, the waterfalls, the town on its airy perch above, +the just starting vegetation of spring, the roads lined with +snowdrops, crocuses and violets, have renewed, in a tenfold degree, +the delight with which I saw this romantic spot on my former journey +to Rome. + +We crossed the mountain of Radicofani yesterday, in so thick a mist +that I could not even distinguish the ruin of the old castle, towering +into the clouds above. The wild, half-naked people thronged about us +as before, and I gave another paul to the old beggar with whom I +became acquainted by Mr. Cole's graphic sketch. The winter had, +apparently, gone hard with him. He was scarce able to come to the +carriage window, and coughed so hollowly that I thought he had nearly +begged his last pittance. + +BOLSENA.--we walked in advance of the vetturino along the borders of +this lovely and beautiful lake till we are tired. Our artists have +taken off their coats with the heat, and sit, a quarter of a mile +further on, pointing in every direction at these unparalleled views. +The water is as still as a mirror, with a soft mist on its face, and +the water-fowl in thousands are diving and floating within gunshot of +us. An afternoon in June could not be more summer-like, and this, to a +lover of soft climate, is no trifling pleasure. + +A mile behind us lies the town, the seat of ancient _Volscinium_, the +capital of the Volscians. The country about is one quarry of ruins, +mouldering away in the moss. Nobody can live in health in the +neighborhood, and the poor pale wretches who call it a home are in +melancholy contrast to the smiling paradise about them. Before us, in +the bosom of the lake, lie two green islands, those which Pliny +records to have floated in his time and one of which, _Martana_, a +small conical isle, was the scene of the murder of the queen of the +Goths, by her cousin Theodatus. She was taken there and strangled. It +is difficult to imagine, with such a sea of sunshine around and over +it, that it was ever anything but a spot of delight. + +The whole neighborhood is covered with rotten trunks of trees--a thing +which at first surprised me in a country where wood is so economised. +It is accounted for in the French guide-book of one of our party by +the fact, that the chestnut woods of Bolsena are considered sacred by +the people, from their antiquity, and are never cut. The trees have +ripened and fallen and rotted thus for centuries--one cause, perhaps, +of the deadly change in the air. + +The vetturino comes lumbering up, and I must pocket my pencil and +remount. + + + + +LETTER LIII. + + MONTEFIASCONE--ANECDOTE OF THE WINE--VITERBO--MOUNT + CIMINO--TRADITION--VIEW OF ST. PETER'S--ENTRANCE INTO ROME--A + STRANGER'S IMPRESSIONS OF THE CITY. + + +MONTEFIASCONE.--We have stopped for the night at the hotel of this +place, so renowned for its wine--the remnant of a bottle of which +stands, at this moment, twinkling between me and my French companions. +The ladies of our party have gone to bed, and left us in the room +where sat _Jean Defoucris_, the merry German monk, who died of excess +in drinking the same liquor that flashes through this straw-covered +flask. The story is told more fully in the French guide-books. A +prelate of Augsbourg, on a pilgrimage to Rome, sent forward his +servant with orders to mark every tavern where the wine was good with +the word _est_, in large letters of chalk. On arriving at this hotel, +the monk saw the signal thrice written over the door--_Est! Est! Est!_ +He put up his mule, and drank of Montefiascone till he died. His +servant wrote his epitaph, which is still seen in the church of St. +Florian:-- + + "Propter minium EST, EST, + Dominus meus mortuus EST!" + +"_Est, Est, Est!_" is the motto upon the sign of the hotel to this +day. + + * * * * * + +In wandering about Viterbo in search of amusement, while the horses +were baiting, I stumbled upon the shop of an antiquary. After looking +over his medals, Etruscan vases, cameos, &c., a very interesting +collection, I inquired into the state of trade for such things in +Viterbo. He was a cadaverous, melancholy looking old man, with his +pockets worn quite out with the habit of thrusting his hands into +them, and about his mouth and eye there was the proper virtuoso +expression of inquisitiveness and discrimination. He kept also a small +_cafe_ adjoining his shop, into which we passed, as he shrugged his +shoulders at my question. I had wondered to find a vender of costly +curiosities in a town of such poverty, and I was not surprised at the +sad fortunes which had followed upon his enterprise. They were a base +herd, he said, of the people, utterly ignorant of the value of the +precious objects he had for sale and he had been compelled to open a +_cafe_, and degrade himself by waiting on them for a contemptible +_crazie_ worth of coffee, while his lovely antiquities lay +unappreciated within. The old gentleman was eloquent upon his +misfortunes. He had not been long in trade, and had collected his +museum originally for his own amusement. He was an odd specimen, in a +small way, of a man who was quite above his sphere, and suffered for +his superiority. I bought a pretty _intaglio_, and bade him farewell, +after an hour's acquaintance, with quite the feeling of a friend. + + * * * * * + +Mount Cimino rose before us soon after leaving Viterbo, and we walked +up most of the long and gentle ascent, inhaling the odor of the spicy +plants for which it is famous, and looking out sharply for the +brigands with which it is always infested. English carriages are +constantly robbed on this part of the route of late. The robbers are +met usually in parties of ten and twelve, and, a week before we +passed, Lady Berwick (the widow of an English nobleman, and a sister +of the famous Harriet Wilson) was stopped and plundered in broad +mid-day. The excessive distress among the peasantry of these +misgoverned States accounts for these things, and one only wonders why +there is not even more robbing among such a starving population. This +mountain, by the way, and the pretty lake below it, are spoken of in +the AEneid: "_Cimini cum monte locum_," etc. There is an ancient +tradition, that in the crescent-shaped valley which the lake fills, +there was formerly a city, which was overwhelmed by the rise of the +water, and certain authors state that when the lake is clear, the +ruins are still to be seen at the bottom. + + * * * * * + +The sun rose upon us as we reached the mountain above Baccano, on the +sixth day of our journey, and, by its clear golden flood, we saw the +dome of St. Peter's, at a distance of sixteen miles, towering amid the +campagna in all its majestic beauty. We descended into the vast plain, +and traversed its gentle undulations for two or three hours. With the +forenoon well advanced, we turned into the valley of the Tiber, and +saw the home of Raphael, a noble chateau on the side of a hill, near +the river, and, in the little plain between, the first peach-trees we +had seen, in full blossom. The tomb of Nero is on one side of the +road, before crossing the Tiber, and on the other a newly painted and +staring _restaurant_, where the modern Roman cockneys drive for punch +and ices. The bridge of Pontemolle, by which we passed into the +immediate suburb of Rome, was the ancient _Pons AEmilius_, and here +Cicero arrested the conspirators on their way to join Catiline in his +camp. It was on the same bridge, too, that Constantine saw his famous +vision, and gained his victory over the tyrant Maxentius. + +Two miles over the _Via Flaminia_, between garden walls that were +ornamented with sculpture and inscription in the time of Augustus, +brought us to the _Porta del Popolo_. The square within this noble +gate is modern, but very imposing. Two streets diverge before you, as +far away as you can see into the heart of the city, a magnificent +fountain sends up its waters in the centre, the facades of two +handsome churches face you as you enter, and on the right and left are +gardens and palaces of princely splendor. Gay and sumptuous equipages +cross it in every direction, driving out to the villa Borghese, and up +to the Pincian mount, the splendid troops of the Pope are on guard, +and the busy and stirring population of modern Rome swell out to its +limit like the ebb and flow of the sea. All this disappoints while it +impresses the stranger. He has come to Rome--but it was _old_ Rome +that he had pictured to his fancy. The Forum, the ruins of her +temples, the palaces of her emperors, the homes of her orators, poets, +and patriots, the majestic relics of the once mistress of the world, +are the features in his anticipation. But he enters by a modern gate +to a modern square, and pays his modern coin to a whiskered officer of +customs; and in the place of a venerable Belisarius begging an obolus +in classic Latin, he is beset by a troop of lusty and filthy +lazzaroni entreating for a _baioch_ in the name of the Madonna, and in +effeminate Italian. He drives down the Corso, and reads nothing but +French signs, and sees all the familiar wares of his own country +exposed for sale, and every other person on the _pave_ is an +Englishman, with a narrow-rimmed hat and whalebone stick, and with an +hour at the Dogama, where his baggage is turned inside out by a snuffy +old man who speaks French, and a reception at a hotel where the porter +addresses him in his own language, whatever it may be; he goes to bed +under Parisian curtains, and tries to dream of the Rome he could not +realize while awake. + + + + +LETTER LIV. + + APPIAN WAY--TOMB OF CECILIA METELLA--ALBANO--TOMB OF THE + CURIATII--ARICIA--TEMPLE OF DIANA--FOUNTAIN OF EGERIA--LAKE OF + NEMI--VELLETRI--PONTINE MARSHES--CONVENT--CANAL--TERRACINA-- + SAN FELICE--FONDI--STORY OF JULIA GONZAGA--CICERO'S GARDEN AND + TOMB--MOLA--MINTURNA--RUINS OF AN AMPHITHEATRE AND TEMPLE-- + FALERNIAN MOUNT AND WINE--THE DOCTOR OF ST. AGATHA--CAPUA-- + ENTRANCE INTO NAPLES--THE QUEEN. + + +With the intention of returning to Rome for the ceremonies of the holy +week, I have merely passed through on my way to Naples. We left it the +morning after our arrival, going by the "Appian way" to mount Albano, +which borders the Campagna on the south, at a distance of fifteen +miles. This celebrated road is lined with the ruined tombs of the +Romans. Off at the right, some four or five miles from the city, rises +the fortress-like _tomb of Cecilia Metella_, so exquisitely mused upon +by Childe Harold. This, says Sismondi, with the tombs of Adrian and +Augustus, became fortresses of banditti, in the thirteenth century, +and were taken by Brancallone, the Bolognese governor of Rome, who +hanged the marauders from the walls. It looks little like "a woman's +grave." + +We changed horses at the pretty village of Albano, and, on leaving it, +passed an ancient mausoleum, believed to be the tomb of the Curiatii +who fought the Horatii on this spot. It is a large structure, and had +originally four pyramids on the corners, two of which only remain. + +A mile from Albano lies Aricia, in a country of the loveliest rural +beauty. Here was the famous temple of Diana, and here were the lake +and grove sacred to the "virgin huntress," and consecrated as her home +by peculiar worship. The fountain of Egeria is here, where Numa +communed with the nymph, and the lake of Nemi, on the borders of which +the temple stood, and which was called _Diana's mirror_ (_speculum +Dianae_), is at this day, perhaps, one of the sweetest gems of natural +scenery in the world. + +We slept at Velletri, a pretty town of some twelve thousand +inhabitants, which stands on a hill-side, leaning down to the Pontine +marshes. It was one of the grand days of carnival, and the streets +were full of masks, walking up and down in their ridiculous dresses, +and committing every sort of foolery. The next morning, by daylight, +we were upon the Pontine marshes, the long thirty miles level of which +we passed in an unbroken trot, one part of a day's journey of +seventy-five miles, done by the _same horses_, at the rate of six +miles in the hour! They are small, compact animals, and look in good +condition, though they do as much habitually. + +At a distance of fifteen miles from Velletri, we passed a convent, +which is built opposite the spot where St. Paul was met by his +friends, on his journey from the seaside to Rome. The canal upon which +Horace embarked on his celebrated journey to Brundusium, runs +parallel with the road for its whole distance. This marshy desert is +inhabited by a race of as wretched beings, perhaps, as are to be found +upon the face of the earth. The pestiferous miasma of the pools is +certain destruction to health, and the few who are needed at the +distant post-houses, crawl out to the road-side like so many victims +from a pest-house, stooping with weakness, hollow-eyed, and apparently +insensible to everything. The feathered race seems exempt from its +influence, and the quantities of game of every known description are +incredible. The ground was alive with wild geese, turkeys, pigeons, +plover, ducks, and numerous birds we did not know, as far as the eye +could distinguish. The travelling books caution against sleeping in +the carriage while passing these marshes, but we found it next to +impossible to resist the heavy drowsiness of the air. + +At Terracina the marshes end, and the long avenue of elms terminates +at the foot of a romantic precipice, which is washed by the +Mediterranean. The town is most picturesquely built between the rocky +wall and the sea. We dined with the hollow murmur of the surf in our +ears, and then, presenting our passports, entered the kingdom of +Naples. This Terracina, by the way, was the ancient _Anxur_, which +Horace describes in his line-- + + "Impositum late saxis candentibus Anxur." + +For twenty or thirty miles before arriving at Terracina, we had seen +before us the headland of Circoeum, lying like a mountain island off +the shore. It is usually called San Felice, from the small town seated +upon it. This was the ancient abode of the "daughter of the sun," and +here were imprisoned, according to Homer, the champions of Ulysses, +after their metamorphoses. + +From Terracina to Fondi, we followed the old Appian way, a road hedged +with flowering myrtles and orange trees laden with fruit. Fondi itself +is dirtier than imagination could picture it, and the scowling men in +the streets look like myrmidons of Fra Diavolo, their celebrated +countryman. This town, however, was the scene of the romantic story of +the beautiful Julia Gonzaga, and was destroyed by the corsair +Barbarossa, who had intended to present the rarest beauty of Italy to +the Sultan. It was to the rocky mountains above the town that she +escaped in her night-dress, and lay concealed till the pirate's +departure. + +In leaving Fondi, we passed the ruined walls of a garden said to have +belonged to Cicero, whose tomb is only three leagues distant. Night +came on before we reached the tomb, and we were compelled to promise +ourselves a pilgrimage to it on our return. + +We slept at Mola, and here Cicero was assassinated. The ruins of his +country-house are still here. The town lies in the lap of a graceful +bay, and in all Italy, it is said, there is no spot more favored by +nature. The mountains shelter it from the winds of the north; the soil +produces, spontaneously, the orange, the myrtle, the olive, delicious +grapes, jasmine, and many odoriferous herbs. This and its neighborhood +was called, by the great orator and statesman who selected it for his +retreat, "the most beautiful patrimony of the Romans." The +Mediterranean spreads out from its bosom, the lovely islands near +Naples bound its view, Vesuvius sends up its smoke and fire in the +south, and back from its hills stretches a country fertile and +beautiful as a paradise. This is a place of great resort for the +English and other travellers in the summer. The old palaces are turned +into hotels, and we entered our inn through an avenue of shrubs that +must have been planted and trimmed for a century. + + * * * * * + +We left Mola before dawn and crossed the small river Garigliano as the +sun rose. A short distance from the southern bank, we found ourselves +in the midst of ruins, the golden beams of the sun pouring upon us +through the arches of some once magnificent structure, whose area is +now crossed by the road. This was the ancient Minturna, and the ruins +are those of an amphitheatre, and a temple of Venus. Some say that it +was in the marshes about the now waste city, that the soldier sent by +Sylla to kill Marius, found the old hero, and, struck with his noble +mien, fell with respect at his feet. + +The road soon enters a chain of hills, and the scenery becomes +enchanting. At the left of the first ascent lies the Falernian mount, +whose wines are immortalized by Horace. It is a beautiful hill, which +throws round its shoulder to the south, and is covered with vineyards. +I dismounted and walked on while the horses breathed at the post-house +of St. Agatha, and was overtaken by a good-natured-looking man, +mounted on a mule, of whom I made some inquiry respecting the modern +Falernian. He said it was still the best wine of the neighborhood, but +was far below its ancient reputation, because never kept long enough +to ripen. It is at its prime from the fifteenth to the twentieth year, +and is usually drank the first or second. My new acquaintance, I soon +found, was the physician of the two or three small villages nested +about among the hills and a man of some pretensions to learning. I was +delighted with his frank good-humor, and a certain spice of drollery +in his description of his patients. The peasants at work in the fields +saluted him from any distance as he passed; and the pretty contadini +going to St. Agatha with their baskets on their heads, smiled as he +nodded, calling them all by name, and I was rather amused than +offended with the inquisitiveness he manifested about my age, family, +pursuits, and even morals. His mule stopped of its own will, at the +door of the apothecary of the small village on the summit of the hill, +and as the carriage came in sight the doctor invited me, seizing my +hand with a look of friendly sincerity, to stop at St. Agatha on my +return, to shoot, and drink Falernian with him for a month. The +apothecary stopped the vetturino at the door; and, to the astonishment +of my companions within, the doctor seized me in his arms and kissed +me on both sides of my face with a volume of blessings and +compliments, which I had no breath in my surprise to return. I have +made many friends on the road in this country of quick feelings, but +the doctor of St. Agatha had a readiness of sympathy which threw all +my former experience into the shade. + +We dined at Capua, the city whose luxuries enervated Hannibal and his +soldiers--the "_dives, amorosa, felix_" Capua. It is in melancholy +contrast with the description now--its streets filthy, and its people +looking the antipodes of luxury. The climate should be the same, as we +dined with open doors, and with the branch of an orange tree heavy +with fruit hanging in at the window, in a month that with us is one of +the wintriest. + +From Capua to Naples, the distance is but fifteen miles, over a flat, +uninteresting country. We entered "this third city in the world" in +the middle of the afternoon, and were immediately surrounded with +beggars of every conceivable degree of misery. We sat an hour at the +gate while our passports were recorded, and the vetturino examined, +and then passing up a noble street, entered a dense crowd, through +which was creeping slowly a double line of carriages. The mounted +dragoons compelled our postillion to fall into the line, and we were +two hours following in a fashionable corso with our mud-spattered +vehicle and tired horses, surrounded by all that was brilliant and gay +in Naples. It was the last day of carnival. Everybody was abroad, and +we were forced, however unwillingly to see all the rank and beauty of +the city. The carriages in this fine climate are all open, and the +ladies were in full dress. As we entered the Toledo, the cavalcade +came to a halt, and with hats off and handkerchiefs flying in every +direction about them, the young new-married Queen of Naples rode up +the middle of the street preceded and followed by outriders in the +gayest livery. She has been married about a month, is but seventeen, +and is acknowledged to be the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. The +description I had heard of her, though very extravagant, had hardly +done her justice. She is a little above the middle height, with a fine +lift to her head and neck, and a countenance only less modest and +maidenly than noble. + + + + +LETTER LV. + + ROME--FRONT OF ST. PETER'S--EQUIPAGES OF THE CARDINALS-- + BEGGARS--BODY OF THE CHURCH--TOMB OF ST. PETER--THE + TIBER--FORTRESS-TOMB OF ADRIAN--JEWS' QUARTER--FORUM BARBERINI + PALACE--PORTRAIT OF BEATRICE CENCI--HER MELANCHOLY + HISTORY--PICTURE OF THE FORNARINA--LIKENESS OF GIORGIONE'S + MISTRESS--JOSEPH AND POTIPHAR'S WIFE--THE PALACES DORIA AND + SCIARRA--PORTRAIT OF OLIVIA WALDACHINI--OF "A CELEBRATED + WIDOW"--OF SEMIRAMIS--CLAUDE'S LANDSCAPES--BRILL'S-- + BRUGHEL'S--NOTTI'S "WOMAN CATCHING FLEAS"--DA VINCI'S QUEEN + GIOVANNA--PORTRAIT OF A FEMALE DORIA--PRINCE DORIA--PALACE + SCIARRA--BRILL AND BOTH'S LANDSCAPES--CLAUDE'S--PICTURE OF + NOAH INTOXICATED--ROMANA'S FORNARINA--DA VINCI'S TWO PICTURES. + + +Drawn in twenty different directions on starting from my lodgings this +morning, I found myself, undecided where to pass my day, in front of +St. Peter's. Some gorgeous ceremony was just over, and the sumptuous +equipages of the cardinals, blazing in the sun with their mountings of +gold and silver, were driving up and dashing away from the end of the +long colonnades, producing any effect upon the mind rather than a +devout one. I stood admiring their fiery horses and gay liveries, till +the last rattled from the square, and then mounted to the deserted +church. Its vast vestibule was filled with beggars, diseased in every +conceivable manner, halting, groping, and crawling about in search of +strangers of whom to implore charity--a contrast to the splendid +pavement beneath and the gold and marble above and around, which would +reconcile one to see the "mighty dome" melted into alms, and his +holiness reduced to a plain chapel and a rusty cassock. + +Lifting the curtain I stood in the body of the church. There were +perhaps twenty persons, at different distances, on its immense floor, +the farthest off (_six hundred and fourteen feet from me!_) looking +like a pigmy in the far perspective. St. Peter's is less like a church +than a collection of large churches enclosed under a gigantic roof. +The chapels at the sides are larger than most houses of public worship +in our country, and of these there may be eight or ten, not included +in the effect of the vast interior. One is lost in it. It is a city of +columns and sculpture and mosaic. Its walls are encrusted with +precious stones and masterly workmanship to the very top, and its +wealth may be conceived when you remember that, standing in the centre +and raising your eyes aloft, there are _four hundred and forty feet_ +between you and the roof of the dome--the height, almost of a +mountain. + +I walked up toward the tomb of St. Peter, passing in my way a solitary +worshipper here and there, upon his knees, and arrested constantly by +the exquisite beauty of the statuary with which the columns are +carved. Accustomed as we are in America, to churches filled with +pews, it is hardly possible to imagine the noble effect of a vast +mosaic floor, unencumbered even with a chair, and only broken by a few +prostrate figures, just specking its wide area. All Catholic churches +are without fixed seats, and St. Peter's seems scarce measurable to +the eye, it is so far and clear, from one extremity to the other. + +I passed the hundred lamps burning over the tomb of St. Peter, the +lovely female statue (covered with a bronze drapery, because its +exquisite beauty was thought dangerous to the morality of the young +priests), reclining upon the tomb of Paul III., the ethereal figures +of Canova's geniuses weeping at the door of the tomb of the Stuarts +(where sleeps the pretender Charles Edward), the thousand thousand +rich and beautiful monuments of art and taste crowding every corner of +this wondrous church--I passed them, I say, with the same lost and +unexamining, unparticularizing feeling which I cannot overcome in this +place--a mind borne quite off its feet and confused and overwhelmed +with the tide of astonishment--the one grand impression of the whole. +I dare say, a little more familiarity with St. Peter's will do away +the feeling, but I left the church, after two hours loitering in its +aisles, despairing, and scarce wishing to examine or make a note. + +Those beautiful fountains, moistening the air over the whole area of +the column encircled front!--and that tall Egyptian pyramid, sending +up its slender and perfect spire between! One lingers about, and turns +again and again to gaze around him, as he leaves St. Peter's, in +wonder and admiration. + +I crossed the Tiber, at the fortress-tomb of Adrian, and thridding the +long streets at the western end of Rome, passed through the Jews' +quarter, and entered the Forum. The sun lay warm among the ruins of +the great temples and columns of ancient Rome, and, seating myself on +a fragment of an antique frieze, near the noble arch of Septimius +Severus, I gazed on the scene, for the first time, by daylight. I had +been in Rome, on my first visit, during the full moon, and my +impressions of the Forum with this romantic enhancement were vivid in +my memory. One would think it enough to be upon the spot at any time, +with light to see it, but what with modern excavations, fresh banks of +earth, carts, boys playing at marbles, and wooden sentry-boxes, and +what with the Parisian promenade, made by the French through the +centre, the imagination is too disturbed and hindered in daylight. The +moon gives it all one covering of gray and silver. The old columns +stand up in all their solitary majesty, wrecks of beauty and taste; +silence leaves the fancy to find a voice for itself; and from the +palaces of the Cesars to the prisons of the capitol, the whole train +of emperors, senators, conspirators, and citizens, are summoned with +but half a thought and the magic glass is filled with moving and +re-animated Rome. There, beneath those walls, on the right, in the +Mamertine prisons, perished Jugurtha (and there, too, were imprisoned +St. Paul and St. Peter), and opposite, upon the Palatine-hill, lived +the mighty masters of Rome, in the "palaces of the Cesars," and +beneath the majestic arch beyond, were led, as a seal of their +slavery, the captives from Jerusalem, and in these temples, whose +ruins cast their shadows at my feet, walked and discoursed Cicero and +the philosophers, Brutus and the patriots, Catiline and the +conspirators, Augustus and the scholars and poets, and the great +stranger in Rome, St. Paul, gazing at the false altars, and burning in +his heart to reveal to them the "unknown God." What men have crossed +the shadows of these very columns! and what thoughts, that have moved +the world, have been born beneath them! + +The Barberini palace contains three or four masterpieces of painting. +The most celebrated is the portrait of Beatrice Cenci, by Guido. The +melancholy and strange history of this beautiful girl has been told in +a variety of ways, and is probably familiar to every reader. Guido saw +her on her way to execution, and has painted her as she was dressed, +in the gray habit and head-dress made by her own hands, and finished +but an hour before she put it on. There are engravings and copies of +the picture all over the world, but none that I have seen give any +idea of the excessive gentleness and serenity of the countenance. The +eyes retain traces of weeping, but the child-like mouth, the soft, +girlish lines of features that look as if they never had worn more +than the one expression of youthfulness and affection, are all in +repose, and the head is turned over the shoulder with as simple a +sweetness as if she had but looked back to say a good-night before +going to her chamber to sleep. She little looks like what she was--one +of the firmest and boldest spirits whose history is recorded. After +murdering her father for his fiendish attempts upon her virtue, she +endured every torture rather than disgrace her family by confession, +and was only moved from her constancy, at last, by the agonies of her +younger brother on the rack. Who would read capabilities like these, +in these heavenly and child-like features? + +I have tried to purchase the life of the Cenci, in vain. A bookseller +told me to-day, that it was a forbidden book, on account of its +reflections upon the pope. Immense interest was made for the poor +girl, but, it is said, the papal treasury ran low, and if she was +pardoned, the large possessions of the Cenci family could not have +been confiscated. + +The gallery contains also, a delicious picture of the Fornarina by +Raphael himself, and a portrait of Giorgione's mistress, as a +Carthaginian slave, the same head multiplied so often in his and +Titian's pictures. The original of the admirable picture of Joseph and +the wife of Potiphar, is also here. A copy of it is in the gallery of +Florence. + +I have passed a day between the two palaces Doria and Sciarra, nearly +opposite each other in the Corso at Rome. The first is an immense +gallery of perhaps a thousand pictures, distributed through seven +large halls, and four galleries encircling the court. In the first +four rooms I found nothing that struck me particularly. In the fifth +was a portrait, by an unknown artist, of Olivia Waldachini, the +favorite and sister-in-law of Pope Innocent X., a handsome woman, with +that round fulness in the throat and neck, which (whether it existed +in the originals, or is a part of a painter's ideal of a woman of +pleasure), is universal in portraits of that character. In the same +room was a portrait of a "celebrated widow," by Vandyck,[7] a had-been +beautiful woman, in a staid cap (the hands wonderfully painted), and a +large and rich picture of Semiramis, by one of the Carraccis. + +In the galleries hung the landscapes by Claude, famous through the +world. It is like roving through a paradise, to sit and look at them. +His broad green lawns, his half-hidden temples, his life-like +luxuriant trees, his fountains, his sunny streams--all flush into the +eye like the bright opening of a Utopia, or some dream over a +description from Boccaccio. It is what Italy might be in a golden +age--her ruins rebuilt into the transparent air, her woods unprofaned, +her people pastoral and refined, and every valley a landscape of +Arcadia. I can conceive no higher pleasure for the imagination than to +see a Claude in travelling through Italy. It is finding a home for +one's more visionary fancies--those children of moonshine that one +begets in a colder clime, but scarce dares acknowledge till he has +seen them under a more congenial sky. More plainly, one does not know +whether his abstract imaginations of pastoral life and scenery are not +ridiculous and unreal, till he has seen one of these landscapes, and +felt _steeped_, if I may use such a word, in the very loveliness which +inspired the pencil of the painter. There he finds the pastures, the +groves, the fairy structures, the clear waters, the straying groups, +the whole delicious scenery, as bright as in his dreams, and he feels +as if he should bless the artist for the liberty to acknowledge freely +to himself the possibility of so beautiful a world. + +We went on through the long galleries, going back again and again to +see the Claudes. In the third division of the gallery were one or two +small and bright landscapes, by Brill, that would have enchanted us if +seen elsewhere; and four strange pictures, by Breughel, representing +the four elements, by a kind of half-poetical, half-supernatural +landscapes, one of which had a very lovely view of a distant village. +Then there was the famous picture of the "woman catching fleas" by +Gherardodelle Notti, a perfect piece of life. She stands close to a +lamp, with a vessel of hot water before her, and is just closing her +thumb and finger over a flea, which she has detected on the bosom of +her dress. Some eight or ten are boiling already in the water, and the +expression upon the girl's face is that of the most grave and +unconscious interest in her employment. Next to this amusing picture +hangs a portrait of Queen Giovanna, of Naples, by Leonardo da Vinci, a +copy of which I had seen, much prized, in the possession of the +archbishop of Torento. It scarce looks like the talented and ambitious +queen she was, but it does full justice to her passion for amorous +intrigue--a face full of the woman. + +The last picture we came to, was one not even mentioned in the +catalogue, an old portrait of one of the females of the Doria family. +It was a girl of eighteen, with a kind of face that in life must have +been extremely fascinating. While we were looking at it, we heard a +kind of gibbering laugh from the outer apartment, and an old man in a +cardinal's dress, dwarfish in size, and with deformed and almost +useless legs, came shuffling into the gallery, supported by two +priests. His features were imbecility itself, rendered almost horrible +by the contrast of the cardinal's red cap. The _custode_ took off his +hat and bowed low, and the old man gave us a half-bow and a long laugh +in passing, and disappeared at the end of the gallery. This was the +Prince Doria, the owner of the palace, and a cardinal of Rome! the +sole remaining representative of one of the most powerful and +ambitious families of Italy! There could not be a more affecting type +of the great "mistress of the world" herself. Her very children have +dwindled into idiots. + +We crossed the Corso to the _Palace Sciarra_. The collection here is +small, but choice. Half a dozen small but exquisite landscapes, by +Brill and Both, grace the second room. Here are also three small +Claudes, very, very beautiful. In the next room is a finely-colored +but most indecent picture of Noah intoxicated, by Andrea Sacchi, and a +portrait by Giulio Romano, of Raphael's celebrated Fornarina, to +whose lovely face one becomes so accustomed in Italy, that it seems +like that of an acquaintance. + +In the last room are two of the most celebrated pictures in Rome. The +first is by Leonardo da Vinci, and represents Vanity and Modesty, by +two females standing together in conversation--one a handsome, gay, +volatile looking creature, covered with ornaments, and listening +unwillingly to what seems a lecture from the other, upon her foibles. +The face of the other is a heavenly conception of woman--earnest, +delicate, and lovely--the idea one forms to himself, before +intercourse with the world, gives him a distaste for its purity. The +moral lesson of the picture is more forcible than language. The +painter deserved to have died, as he did, in the arms of an emperor. + +The other picture represents two gamblers cheating a youth, a very +striking picture of nature. It is common from the engravings. On the +opposite side of the room, is a very expressive picture, by Schidone. +On the ruins of an old tomb stands a skull, beneath which is +written--"_I, too, was of Arcadia_;" and, at a little distance, gazing +at it in attitudes of earnest reflection, stand two shepherds, struck +simultaneously with the moral. It is a poetical thought, and wrought +out with great truth and skill. + + * * * * * + +Our eyes aching and our attention exhausted with pictures, we drove +from the Sciarra to the ruined palaces of the Cesars. Here, on an +eminence above the Tiber, with the Forum beneath us on one side, the +Coliseum on the other, and all the towers and spires of modern and +Catholic Rome arising on her many hills beyond, we seated ourselves on +fragments of marble, half buried in the grass, and mused away the +hours till sunset. On this spot Romulus founded Rome. The princely +Augustus, in the last days of her glory, laid here the foundations of +his imperial palace, which, continued by Caligula and Tiberius, and +completed by Domitian, covered the hill, like a small city. It was a +labyrinth of temples, baths, pavilions, fountains, and gardens, with a +large theatre at the western extremity; and adjoining the temple of +Apollo, was a library filled with the best authors, and ornamented +with a colossal bronze statue of Apollo, "of excellent Etruscan +workmanship." "Statues of the fifty daughters of Danaus Siuramdert +surrounded the portico" (of this same temple), "and opposite them were +equestrian statues of their husbands." About a hundred years ago, +accident discovered, in the gardens buried in rubbish, a magnificent +hall, two hundred feet in length and one hundred and thirty-two in +breadth, supposed to have been built by Domitian. It was richly +ornamented with statues, and columns of precious marbles, and near it +were baths in excellent preservation. "But," says Stark, "immense and +superb as was this first-built palace of the Cesars, Nero, whose +extravagance and passion for architecture knew no limits, thought it +much too small for him, and extended its edifices and gardens from the +Palatine to the Esquiline. After the destruction of the whole, by +fire, sixty-five years after Christ, he added to it his celebrated +'Golden House,' which extended from one extremity to the other of the +Coelian Hill."[8] + +The ancient walls, which made the whole of the Mount Palatine a +fortress, still hold together its earth and its ruins. It is a broad +tabular eminence, worn into footpaths which wind at every moment +around broken shafts of marble, fragments of statuary, or broken and +ivy-covered fountains. Part of it is cultivated as a vineyard, by the +degenerate modern Romans, and the baths, into which the water still +pours from aqueducts encrusted with aged stalactites are public +washing-places for the contadini, eight or ten of whom were splashing +away in their red jackets, with gold bodkins in their hair, while we +were moralizing on their worthier progenitors of eighteen centuries +ago. It is a beautiful spot of itself, and with the delicious soft +sunshine of an Italian spring, the tall green grass beneath our feet, +and an air as soft as June just stirring the myrtles and jasmines, +growing wild wherever the ruins gave them place, our enjoyment of the +overpowering associations of the spot was ample and untroubled. I +could wish every refined spirit in the world had shared our pleasant +hour upon the Palatine. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[7] So called in the catalogue. The custode, however, told us it was a +portrait of the wife of Vandyck, painted as an old woman to mortify +her excessive vanity, when she was but twenty-three. He kept the +picture until she was older, and, at the time of his death, it had +become a flattering likeness, and was carefully treasured by the +widow. + +[8] The following description is given of this splendid palace, by +Suetonius. "To give an idea of the extent and beauty of this edifice, +it is sufficient to mention, that in its vestibule was placed his +colossal statue, one hundred and twenty feet in height. It had a +triple portico, supported by a thousand columns, with a lake like a +little sea, surrounded by buildings which resembled cities. It +contained pasture-grounds and groves in which were all descriptions of +animals, wild and tame. Its interior shone with gold, gems, and +mother-of-pearl. In the vaulted roofs of the eating-rooms were +machines of ivory, which turned round and scattered perfumes upon the +guests. The principal banqueting room was a rotunda, so constructed +that it turned round night and day, in imitation of the motion of the +earth." When Nero took possession of this fairy palace, his only +observation was--"Now I shall begin to live like a man." + + + + +LETTER LVI. + + ANNUAL DOWRIES TO TWELVE GIRLS--VESPERS IN THE CONVENT OF + SANTA TRINITA--RUINS OF ROMAN BATHS--A MAGNIFICENT MODERN + CHURCH WITHIN TWO ANCIENT HALLS--GARDENS OF MECAENAS--TOWER + WHENCE NERO SAW ROME ON FIRE--HOUSES OF HORACE AND + VIRGIL--BATHS OF TITUS AND CARACALLA. + + +The yearly ceremony of giving dowries to twelve girls, was performed +by the Pope, this morning, in the church built over the ancient temple +of Minerva. His Holiness arrived, in state, from the Vatican, at ten, +followed by his red troop of cardinals, and preceded by a clerical +courier, on a palfrey, and the body-guard of nobles. He blessed the +crowd, right and left, with his three fingers (precisely as a Parisian +dandy salutes his friend across the street), and, descending from his +carriage (which is like a good-sized glass boudoir upon wheels), he +was received in the papal sedan, and carried into the church by his +Swiss bearers. My legation button carried me through the guard, and I +found an excellent place under a cardinal's wing, in the penetralia +within the railing of the altar. Mass commenced presently, with a +chant from the celebrated choir of St. Peter's. Room was then made +through the crowd, the cardinals put on their red caps, and the small +procession of twelve young girls entered from a side chapel, bearing +each a taper in her hand, and robed to the eyes in white, with a +chaplet of flowers round the forehead. I could form no judgment of +anything but their eyes and feet. A Roman eye could not be otherwise +than fine, and a Roman woman's foot could scarce be other than ugly, +and, consequently, there was but one satin slipper in the group that a +man might not have worn, and every eye I could see from my position, +might have graced an improvisatrice. They stopped in front of the +throne, and, giving their long tapers to the servitors, mounted in +couples, hand in hand, and kissed the foot of his Holiness, who, at +the same time, leaned over and blessed them, and then turning about, +walked off again behind the altar in the same order in which they had +entered. + +The choir now struck up their half-unearthly chant (a music so +strangely shrill and clear, that I scarce know whether the sensation +is pleasure or pain), the Pope was led from his throne to his sedan, +and his mitre changed for a richly jewelled crown, the bearers lifted +their burden, the guard presented arms, the cardinals summoned their +officious servants to unrobe, and the crowd poured out as it came. + +This ceremony, I found upon inquiry, is performed every year, _on the +day of the annunciation_--just nine months before Christmas, and is +intended to commemorate the incarnation of our Saviour. + + * * * * * + +As I was returning from a twilight stroll upon the Pincian hill this +evening, the bells of the convent of Santa Trinita rung to vespers. I +had heard of the singing of the nuns in the service at the convent +chapel, but the misbehavior of a party of English had excluded +foreigners, of late, and it was thought impossible to get admittance. +I mounted the steps, however, and rung at the door. It was opened by a +pale nun, of thirty, who hesitated a moment, and let me pass. In a +small, plain chapel within, the service of the altar was just +commencing, and, before I reached a seat, a low plaintive chant +commenced, in female voices from the choir. It went on with occasional +interruptions from the prayers, for perhaps an hour. I can not +describe the excessive mournfulness of the music. One or two familiar +hymns occurred in the course of it, like airs in a recitative, the +same sung in our churches, but the effect was totally different. The +neat, white caps of the nuns were just visible over the railing before +the organ, and, as I looked up at them and listened to their +melancholy notes, they seemed, to me, mourning over their exclusion +from the world. The small white cloud from the censer mounted to the +ceiling, and creeping away through the arches, hung over the organ +till it was lost to the eye in the dimness of the twilight. It was +easy, under the influence of their delightful music, to imagine within +it the wings of that tranquilizing resignation, one would think so +necessary to keep down the heart in these lonely cloisters. + + * * * * * + +The most considerable ruins of ancient Rome are those of the _Baths_. +The Emperors Titus, Caracalla, Nero, and Agrippa, constructed these +immense places of luxury, and the remains of them are among the most +interesting and beautiful relics to be found in the world. It is +possible that my readers have as imperfect an idea of the extent of a +Roman bath as I have had, and I may as well quote from the information +given by writers on antiquities. "They were open every day, to both +sexes. In each of the great baths, there were sixteen hundred seats of +marble, for the convenience of the bathers, and three thousand two +hundred persons could bathe at the same time. There were splendid +porticoes in front for promenade, arcades with shops, in which was +found every kind of luxury for the bath, and halls for corporeal +exercises, and for the discussion of philosophy; and here the poets +read their productions and rhetoricians harangued, and sculptors and +painters exhibited their works to the public. The baths were +distributed into grand halls, with ceilings enormously high and +painted with admirable frescoes, supported on columns of the rarest +marble, and the basins were of oriental alabaster, porphyry, and +jasper. There were in the centre vast reservoirs, for the swimmers, +and crowds of slaves to attend gratuitously upon all who should come." + +The baths of Diocletian (which I visited to-day), covered an enormous +space. They occupied seven years in building, and were the work of +_forty thousand Christian slaves, two thirds of whom died of fatigue +and misery_! Mounting one of the seven hills of Rome, we come to some +half-ruined arches, of enormous size, extending a long distance, in +the sides of which were built two modern churches. One was the work of +Michael Angelo, and one of his happiest efforts. He has turned two of +the ancient halls into a magnificent church, in the shape of a Greek +cross, leaving in their places eight gigantic columns of granite. +After St. Peter's it is the most imposing church in Rome. + +We drove thence to the baths of Titus, passing the site of the +ancient gardens of Mecaenas, in which still stands the tower from which +Nero beheld the conflagration of Rome. The houses of Horace and Virgil +communicated with this garden, but they are now undistinguishable. We +turned up from the Coliseum to the left, and entered a gate leading to +the baths of Titus. Five or six immense arches presented their front +to us, in a state of picturesque ruin. We took a guide, and a long +pole, with a lamp at the extremity, and descended to the subterranean +halls, to see the still inimitable frescoes upon the ceilings. Passing +through vast apartments, to the ruined walls of which still clung, +here and there, pieces of the finely-colored stucco of the ancients, +we entered a suite of long galleries, some forty feet high, the arched +roofs of which were painted with the most exquisite art, in a kind of +fanciful border-work, enclosing figures and landscapes, in as bright +colors as if done yesterday. Farther on was the niche in which was +found the famous group of Laocoon, in a room belonging to a +subterranean palace of the emperor, communicating with the baths. The +Belvedere Meleager was also found here. The imagination loses itself +in attempting to conceive the splendor of these under-ground palaces, +blazing with artificial light, ornamented with works of art, never +equalled, and furnished with all the luxury which an emperor of Rome, +in the days when the wealth of the world flowed into her treasury, +could command for his pleasure. How short life must have seemed to +them, and what a tenfold curse became death and the common ills of +existence, interrupting or taking away pleasures so varied and +inexhaustible. + +These baths were built in the last great days of Rome, and one reads +the last stages of national corruption and, perhaps, the secret of her +fall, in the character of these ornamented walls. They breathe the +very spirit of voluptuousness. Naked female figures fill every +plafond, and fauns and satyrs, with the most licentious passions in +their faces, support the festoons and hold together the intricate +ornament of the frescoes. The statues, the pictures, the object of the +place itself, inspired the wish for indulgence, and the history of the +private lives of the emperors and wealthier Romans shows the effect in +its deepest colors. + +We went on to the baths of Caracalla, the largest ruins of Rome. They +are just below the palaces of the Cesars, and ten minutes' walk from +the Coliseum. It is one labyrinth of gigantic arches and ruined halls, +the ivy growing and clinging wherever it can fasten its root, and the +whole as fine a picture of decay as imagination could create. This was +the favorite haunt of Shelley, and here he wrote his fine tragedy of +Prometheus. He could not have selected a more fitting spot for +solitary thought. A herd of goats were climbing over one of the walls, +and the idle boy who tended them lay asleep in the sun, and every +footstep echoed loud through the place. We passed two or three hours +rambling about, and regained the populous streets of Rome in the last +light of the sunset. + + + + +LETTER LVII. + + SUMMER WEATHER IN MARCH--BATHS OF CARACALLA--BEGINNING OF THE + APPIAN WAY--TOMB OF THE SCIPIOS--CATACOMBS--CHURCH OF SAN + SEBASTIANO--YOUNG CAPUCHIN FRIAR--TOMBS OF THE EARLY CHRISTIAN + MARTYRS--CHAMBER WHERE THE APOSTLES WORSHIPPED--TOMB OF + CECILIA METELLA--THE CAMPAGNA--CIRCUS OF CARACALLA OR + ROMULUS--TEMPLE DEDICATED TO RIDICULE--KEATS'S GRAVE--FOUNTAIN + OF EGERIA--THE WOOD WHERE NUMA MET THE NYMPH--HOLY WEEK. + + +The last days of March have come, clothed in sunshine and summer. The +grass is tall in the Campagna, the fruit-trees are in blossom, the +roses and myrtles are in full flower, the shrubs are in full leaf, the +whole country about breathes of June. We left Rome this morning on an +excursion to the "Fountain of Egeria." A more heavenly day never +broke. The gigantic baths of Caracalla turned us aside once more, and +we stopped for an hour in the shade of their romantic arches, admiring +the works, while we execrated the character of their ferocious +builder. + +This is the beginning of the ancient Appian Way, and, a little +farther on, sunk in the side of a hill near the road, is the beautiful +doric tomb of the Scipios. We alighted at the antique gate, a kind of +portico, with seats of stone beneath, and reading the inscription, +"_Sepulchro degli Scipioni_" mounted by ruined steps to the tomb. A +boy came out from the house, in the vineyard above, with candles, to +show us the interior, but, having no curiosity to see the damp cave +from which the sarcophagi have been removed (to the museum), we sat +down upon a bank of grass opposite the chaste facade, and recalled to +memory the early-learnt history of the family once entombed within. +The edifice (for it is more like a temple to a river-nymph or a dryad +than a tomb) was built by an ancestor of the great Scipio Africanus, +and here was deposited the noble dust of his children. One feels, in +these places, as if the improvisatore's inspiration was about him--the +fancy draws, in such vivid colors, the scenes that have passed where +he is standing. The bringing of the dead body of the conqueror of +Africa from Rome, the passing of the funeral train beneath the +portico, the noble mourners, the crowd of people, the eulogy of +perhaps some poet or orator, whose name has descended to us--the air +seems to speak, and the gray stones of the monument against which the +mourners of the Scipios have leaned, seem to have had life and +thought, like the ashes they have sheltered. + +We drove on to the _Catacombs_. Here, the legend says, St. Sebastian +was martyred and the modern church of St. Sebastiano stands over the +spot. We entered the church, where we found a very handsome young +capuchin friar, with his brown cowl and the white cord about his +waist, who offered to conduct us to the catacombs. He took three +wax-lights from the sacristy, and we entered a side door, behind the +tomb of the saint, and commenced a descent of a long flight of stone +steps. We reached the bottom and found ourselves upon damp ground, +following a narrow passage, so low that I was compelled constantly to +stoop, in the sides of which were numerous small niches of the size of +a human body. These were the tombs of the early Christian martyrs. We +saw near a hundred of them. They were brought from Rome, the scene of +their sufferings, and buried in these secret catacombs by the small +church of, perhaps, the immediate converts of St. Paul and the +apostles. What food for thought is here, for one who finds more +interest in the humble traces of the personal followers of Christ, who +knew his face and had heard his voice, to all the splendid ruins of +the works of the persecuting emperors of his time! Most of the bones +have been taken from their places, and are preserved at the museum, or +enclosed in the rich sarcophagi raised to the memory of the martyrs in +the Catholic churches. Of those that are left we saw one. The niche +was closed by a thin slab of marble, through a crack of which the monk +put his slender candle. We saw the skeleton as it had fallen from the +flesh in decay, untouched, perhaps, since the time of Christ. + +We crossed through several cross-passages, and came to a small +chamber, excavated simply in the earth, with an earthern altar, and an +antique marble cross above. This was the scene of the forbidden +worship of the early Christians, and before this very cross, which +was, perhaps, then newly selected as the emblem of their faith, met +the few dismayed followers of Christ, hidden from their persecutors, +while they breathed their forbidden prayers to their lately crucified +Master. + +We reascended to the light of day by the rough stone steps, worn deep +by the feet of those who, for ages, for so many different reasons, +have passed up and down; and, taking leave of our capuchin conductor, +drove on to the next object upon the road--the _tomb of Cecilia +Metella_. It stands upon a slight elevation, in the Appian Way, a +"stern round tower," with the ivy dropping over its turrets and waving +from the embrasures, looking more like a castle than a tomb. Here was +buried "the wealthiest Roman's wife," or, according to Corinne, his +unmarried daughter. It was turned into a fortress by the marauding +nobles of the thirteenth century, who sallied from this and the tomb +of Adrian, plundering the ill-defended subjects of Pope Innocent IV. +till they were taken and hanged from the walls by Brancaleone, the +Roman senator. It is built with prodigious strength. We stooped in +passing under the low archway, and emerged into the round chamber +within, a lofty room, open to the sky, in the circular wall of which +there is a niche for a single body. Nothing could exceed the delicacy +and fancy with which Childe Harold muses on this spot. + +The lofty turrets command a wide view of the Campagna, the long +aqueducts stretching past at a short distance, and forming a chain of +noble arches from Rome to the mountains of Albano. Cole's picture of +the Roman Campagna, as seen from one of these elevations, is, I think, +one of the finest landscapes ever painted. + +Just below the tomb of Metella, in a flat valley, lie the extensive +ruins of what is called the "circus of Caracalla" by some, and the +"circus of Romulus" by others--a scarcely distinguishable heap of +walls and marble, half buried in the earth and moss; and not far off +stands a beautiful ruin of a small temple dedicated (as some say) to +_Ridicule_. One smiles to look at it. If the embodying of that which +is powerful, however, should make a deity, the dedication of a temple +to _ridicule_ is far from amiss. In our age particularly, one would +think, the lamp should be relit, and the reviewers should repair the +temple. Poor Keats sleeps in his grave scarce a mile from the spot, a +human victim sacrificed, not long ago, upon its highest altar. + +In the same valley almost hidden with the luxuriant ivy waving before +the entrance, flows the lovely _Fountain of Egeria_, trickling as +clear and musical into its pebbly bed as when visited by the enamored +successor of Romulus twenty-five centuries ago! The hill above leans +upon the single arch of the small temple which embosoms it, and the +green soft meadow spreads away from the floor, with the brightest +verdure conceivable. We wound around by a half-worn path in descending +the hill, and, putting aside the long branches of ivy, entered an +antique chamber, sprinkled with quivering spots of sunshine, at the +extremity of which, upon a kind of altar, lay the broken and defaced +statue of the nymph. The fountain poured from beneath in two streams +as clear as crystal. In the sides of the temple were six empty niches, +through one of which stole, from a cleft in the wall, a little stream, +which wandered from its way. Flowers, pale with growing in the shade, +sprang from the edges of the rivulet as it found its way out, the +small creepers, dripping with moisture, hung out from between the +diamond-shaped stones of the roof, the air was refreshingly cool, and +the leafy door at the entrance, seen against the sky, looked of a +transparent green, as vivid as emerald. No fancy could create a +sweeter spot. The fountain and the inspiration it breathed into Childe +Harold are worthy of each other. + +Just above the fountain, on the crest of a hill, stands a thick grove, +supposed to occupy the place of the consecrated wood, in which Numa +met the nymph. It is dark with shadow, and full of birds, and might +afford a fitting retreat for meditation to another king and lawgiver. +The fields about it are so thickly studded with flowers, that you +cannot step without crushing them, and the whole neighborhood seems a +favorite of nature. The rich banker, Torlonia, has bought this and +several other classic spots about Rome--possessions for which he is +more to be envied than for his purchased dukedom. + +All the travelling world assembles at Rome for the ceremonies of the +holy week. Naples, Florence, and Pisa, send their hundreds of annual +visitors, and the hotels and palaces are crowded with strangers of +every nation and rank. It would be difficult to imagine a gayer or +busier place than this usually sombre city has become within a few +days. + + + + +LETTER LVIII. + + PALM SUNDAY--SISTINE CHAPEL--ENTRANCE OF THE POPE--THE + CHOIR--THE POPE ON HIS THRONE--PRESENTING THE + PALMS--PROCESSION--BISHOP ENGLAND'S LECTURE--HOLY TUESDAY--THE + MISERERE--ACCIDENTS IN THE CROWD--TENEBRAE--THE EMBLEMATIC + CANDLES--HOLY THURSDAY--FRESCOES OF MICHAEL ANGELO--"CREATION + OF EVE"--"LOT INTOXICATED"--DELPHIC SYBIL--POPE WASHING + PILGRIMS' FEET--STRIKING RESEMBLANCE OF ONE TO JUDAS--POPE AND + CARDINALS WAITING UPON PILGRIMS AT DINNER. + + +Palm Sunday opens the ceremonies. We drove to the Vatican this +morning, at nine, and, after waiting a half hour in the crush, kept +back, at the point of the spear, by the Pope's Swiss guard, I +succeeded in getting an entrance into the Sistine chapel. Leaving the +ladies of the party behind the grate, I passed two more guards, and +obtained a seat among the cowled and bearded dignitaries of the church +and state within, where I could observe the ceremony with ease. + +The Pope entered, borne in his gilded chair by twelve men, and, at the +same moment, the chanting from the Sistine choir commenced with one +long, piercing note, by a single voice, producing the most impressive +effect. He mounted his throne as high as the altar opposite him, and +the cardinals went through their obeisances, one by one, their trains +supported by their servants, who knelt on the lower steps behind them. +The palms stood in a tall heap beside the altar. They were beautifully +woven in wands of perhaps six feet in length, with a cross at the top. +The cardinal nearest the papal chair mounted first, and a palm was +handed him. He laid it across the knees of the Pope, and, as his +holiness signed the cross upon it, he stooped, and kissed the +embroidered cross upon his foot, then kissed the palm, and taking it +in his two hands, descended with it to his seat. The other forty or +fifty cardinals did the same, until each was provided with a palm. +Some twenty other persons, monks of apparent clerical rank of every +order, military men, and members of the Catholic embassies, followed +and took palms. A procession was then formed, the cardinals going +first with their palms held before them, and the Pope following, in +his chair, with a small frame of palmwork in his hands, in which was +woven the initial of the Virgin. They passed out of the Sistine +chapel, the choir chanting most delightfully, and, having made a tour +around the vestibule, returned in the same order. + +The ceremony is intended to represent the entrance of the Saviour into +Jerusalem. Bishop England, of Charleston, South Carolina, delivered a +lecture at the house of the English cardinal Weld, a day or two ago, +explanatory of the ceremonies of the Holy week. It was principally an +apology for them. He confessed that, to the educated, they appeared +empty, and even absurd rites, but they were intended not for the +refined, but the vulgar, whom it was necessary to instruct and impress +through their outward senses. As nearly all these rites, however, +take place in the Sistine chapel, which no person is permitted to +enter who is not furnished with a ticket, and in full dress, his +argument rather fell to the ground. + +With all the vast crowd of strangers in Rome, I went to the Sistine +chapel on _Holy Tuesday_, to hear the far-famed _Miserere_. It is sung +several times during the holy week, by the Pope's choir, and has been +described by travellers, of all nations, in the most rapturous terms. +The vestibule was a scene of shocking confusion, for an hour, a +constant struggle going on between the crowd and the Swiss guard, +amounting occasionally to a fight, in which ladies fainted, children +screamed, men swore, and, unless by force of contrast, the minds of +the audience seemed likely to be little in tune for the music. The +chamberlains at last arrived, and two thousand people attempted to get +into a small chapel which scarce holds four hundred. Coat-skirts, torn +cassocks, hats, gloves, and fragments of ladies' dresses, were thrown +up by the suffocating throng, and, in the midst of a confusion beyond +description, the mournful notes of the _tenebrae_ (or lamentations of +Jeremiah) poured in full volume from the choir. Thirteen candles +burned in a small pyramid within the paling of the altar, and twelve +of these, representing the apostles, were extinguished, one by one (to +signify their desertion at the cross), during the singing of the +_tenebrae_. The last, which was left burning, represented the mother of +Christ. As the last before this was extinguished, the music ceased. +The crowd had, by this time, become quiet. The twilight had deepened +through the dimly-lit chapel, and the one solitary lamp looked lost at +the distance of the altar. Suddenly the _miserere_ commenced with one +high prolonged note, that sounded like a wail; another joined it, and +another and another, and all the different parts came in, with a +gradual swell of plaintive and most thrilling harmony, to the full +power of the choir. It continued for perhaps half an hour. The music +was simple, running upon a few notes, like a dirge, but there were +voices in the choir that seemed of a really supernatural sweetness. No +instrument could be so clear. The crowd, even in their uncomfortable +positions, were breathless with attention, and the effect was +universal. It is really extraordinary music, and if but half the rites +of the Catholic church had its power over the mind, a visit to Rome +would have quite another influence. + +The candles were lit, and the motley troop of cardinals and red-legged +servitors passed out. The harlequin-looking Swiss guard stood to their +tall halberds, the chamberlains and mace-bearers, in their cassock and +frills, took care that the males and females should not mix until they +reached the door, the Pope disappeared in the sacristy, and the gay +world, kept an hour beyond their time, went home to cold dinners. + + * * * * * + +The ceremonies of _Holy Thursday_ commenced with the mass in the +Sistine chapel. Tired of seeing genuflections, and listening to a +mumbling of which I could not catch a syllable, I took advantage of my +privileged seat, in the Ambassador's box, to lean back and study the +celebrated frescoes of Michael Angelo upon the ceiling. A little +drapery would do no harm to any of them. They illustrate, mainly, +passages of scripture history, but the "creation of Eve," in the +centre, is an astonishingly fine representation of a naked man and +woman, as large as life; and "Lot intoxicated and exposed before his +two daughters," is about as immodest a picture, from its admirable +expression as well as its nudity, as could easily be drawn. In one +corner there is a most beautiful draped figure of the _Delphic +Sybil_--and I think this bit of heathenism is almost the only very +decent part of the Pope's most consecrated chapel. + +After the mass, the host was carried, with a showy procession, to be +deposited among the thousand lamps in the Capella Paolina, and, as +soon as it had passed, there was a general rush for the room in which +the Pope was to _wash the feet of the pilgrims_. + +Thirteen men, dressed in white, with sandals open at the top, and caps +of paper covered with white linen, sat on a high bench, just under a +beautiful copy of the last supper of Da Vinci, in gobelin tapestry. It +was a small chapel, communicating with the Pope's private apartments. +Eleven of the pilgrims were as vulgar and brutal-looking men as could +have been found in the world; but of the two in the centre, one was +the personification of wild fanaticism. He was pale, emaciated, and +abstracted. His hair and beard were neglected, and of a singular +blackness. His lips were firmly set in an expression of severity. His +brows were gathered gloomily over his eyes, and his glances, +occasionally sent among the crowd, were as glaring and flashing as a +tiger's. With all this, his countenance was lofty, and if I had seen +the face on canvas, as a portrait of a martyr, I should have thought +it finely expressive of courage and devotion. The man on his left +wept, or pretended to weep, continually; but every person in the room +was struck with his extraordinary resemblance to _Judas_, as he is +drawn in the famous picture of the Last Supper. It was the same marked +face, the same treacherous, ruffian look, the same style of hair and +beard, to a wonder. It is possible that he might have been chosen on +purpose, the twelve pilgrims being intended to represent the twelve +apostles of whom Judas was one--but if accidental, it was the most +remarkable coincidence that ever came under my notice. He looked the +hypocrite and traitor complete, and his resemblance to the Judas in +the picture directly over his head, would have struck a child. + +The Pope soon entered from his apartments, in a purple stole, with a +cape of dark crimson satin, and the mitre of silver-cloth, and, +casting the incense into the golden censer, the white smoke was flung +from side to side before him, till the delightful odor filled the +room. A short service was then chanted, and the choir sang a hymn. His +Holiness was then unrobed, and a fine napkin, trimmed with lace, was +tied about him by the servitors, and with a deacon before him, bearing +a splendid pitcher and basin, and a procession behind him, with large +bunches of flowers, he crossed to the pilgrims' bench. A priest, in a +snow-white tunic, raised and bared the foot of the first. The Pope +knelt, took water in his hand, and slightly rubbed the instep, and +then drying it well with a napkin, he kissed it. + +The assistant-deacon gave a large bunch of flowers and a napkin to the +pilgrim, as the Pope left him, and another person in rich garments, +followed, with pieces of money presented in a wrapper of white paper. +The same ceremony took place with each--one foot only being honored +with a lavation. When his Holiness arrived at the "Judas," there was a +general stir, and every one was on tip-toe to watch his countenance. +He took his handkerchief from his eyes, and looked at the Pope very +earnestly, and when the ceremony was finished, he seized the sacred +hand, and, imprinting a kiss upon it, flung himself back, and buried +his face again in his handkerchief, quite overwhelmed with his +feelings. The other pilgrims took it very coolly, comparatively, and +one of them seemed rather amused than edified. The Pope returned to +his throne, and water was poured over his hands. A cardinal gave him a +napkin, his splendid cape was put again over his shoulders, and, with +a paternoster the ceremony was over. + +Half an hour after, with much crowding and several losses of foothold +and temper, I had secured a place in the hall where the apostles, as +the pilgrims are called after the washing, were to dine, waited on by +the Pope and cardinals. With their gloomy faces and ghastly white caps +and white dresses, they looked more like criminals waiting for +execution, than guests at a feast. They stood while the Pope went +round with a gold pitcher and basin, to wash their hands, and then +seating themselves, his Holiness, with a good-natured smile, gave each +a dish of soup, and said something in his ear, which had the effect of +putting him at his ease. The table was magnificently set out with the +plate and provisions of a prince's table, and spite of the thousands +of eyes gazing on them, the pilgrims were soon deep in the delicacies +of every dish, even the lachrymose Judas himself, eating most +voraciously. We left them at their dessert. + + + + +LETTER LIX. + + SEPULCHRE OF CAIUS CESTIUS--PROTESTANT BURYING GROUND--GRAVES + OF KEATS AND SHELLEY--SHELLEY'S LAMENT OVER KEATS--GRAVES OF + TWO AMERICANS--BEAUTY OF THE BURIAL PLACE--MONUMENTS OVER TWO + INTERESTING YOUNG FEMALES--INSCRIPTION ON KEATS' MONUMENT--THE + STYLE OF KEATS' POEMS--GRAVE OF DR. BELL--RESIDENCE AND + LITERARY UNDERTAKINGS OF HIS WIDOW. + + +A beautiful pyramid, a hundred and thirteen feet high, built into the +ancient wall of Rome, is the proud _Sepulchre of Caius Cestius_. It is +the most imperishable of the antiquities, standing as perfect after +eighteen hundred years as if it were built but yesterday. Just beyond +it, on the declivity of a hill, over the ridge of which the wall +passes, crowning it with two mouldering towers, lies the _Protestant +burying-ground_. It looks toward Rome, which appears in the distance, +between Mount Aventine and a small hill called Mont Testaccio, and +leaning to the southeast, the sun lies warm and soft upon its banks, +and the grass and wild flowers are there the earliest and tallest of +the Campagna. I have been here to-day, to see the graves of _Keats_ +and _Shelley_. With a cloudless sky and the most delicious air ever +breathed, we sat down upon the marble slab laid over the ashes of poor +Shelley, and read his own lament over Keats, who sleeps just below, at +the foot of the hill. The cemetery is rudely formed into three +terraces, with walks between, and Shelley's grave and one other, +without a name, occupy a small nook above, made by the projections of +a mouldering wall-tower, and crowded with ivy and shrubs, and a +peculiarly fragrant yellow flower, which perfumes the air around for +several feet. The avenue by which you ascend from the gate is lined +with high bushes of the marsh-rose in the most luxuriant bloom, and +all over the cemetery the grass is thickly mingled with flowers of +every die. In his preface to his lament over Keats, Shelley says, "he +was buried in the romantic and lonely cemetery of the Protestants, +under the pyramid which is the tomb of Cestius, and the massy walls +and towers, now mouldering and desolate, which formed the circuit of +ancient Rome." It is an open space among the ruins, covered in winter +with violets and daisies. "_It might make one in love with death, to +think that one should be buried in so sweet a place._" If Shelley had +chosen his own grave at the time, he would have selected the very spot +where he has since been laid--the most sequestered and flowery nook of +the place he describes so feelingly. In the last verses of the elegy, +he speaks of it again with the same feeling of its beauty:-- + + "The spirit of the spot shall lead + Thy footsteps to a slope of green access, + Where, like an infant's smile, over the dead, + A light of laughing flowers along the grass is spread. + + "And gray walls moulder round, on which dull time + Feeds like slow fire upon a hoary brand: + And one keen pyramid, with wedge sublime, + Pavilioning the dust of him who planned + This refuge for his memory, doth stand + Like flame transformed to marble; and _beneath + A field is spread, on which a newer band + Have pitched, in heaven's smile, their camp of death_, + Welcoming him we lose, with scarce extinguished breath. + + "Here pause: these graves are all _too young as yet + To have outgrown the sorrow which consigned + Its charge to each_." + +Shelley has left no poet behind, who could write so touchingly of his +burial-place in turn. He was, indeed, as they have graven on his +tombstone, "_cor cordium_"--the heart of hearts. Dreadfully mistaken +as he was in his principles, he was no less the soul of genius than +the model of a true heart and of pure intentions. Let who will cast +reproach upon his memory, I believe, for one, that his errors were of +the kind most venial in the eye of Heaven, and I read, almost like a +prophesy, the last lines of his elegy on one he believed had gone +before him to a happier world: + + "Burning through the inmost veil of heaven, + The soul of Adonais, like a star, + Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are." + +On the second terrace of the declivity, are ten or twelve graves, two +of which bear the names of Americans who have died in Rome. A portrait +carved in bas-relief, upon one of the slabs, told me, without the +inscription, that one whom I had known was buried beneath.[9] The +slightly rising mound was covered with small violets, half hidden by +the grass. It takes away from the pain with which one stands over the +grave of an acquaintance or a friend, to see the sun lying so warm +upon it, and the flowers springing so profusely and cheerfully. Nature +seems to have cared for those who have died so far from home, binding +the earth gently over them with grass, and decking it with the most +delicate flowers. + +A little to the left, on the same bank, is the new-made grave of a +very young man, Mr. Elliot. He came abroad for health, and died at +Rome, scarce two months since. Without being disgusted with life, one +feels, in a place like this, a certain reconciliation, if I may so +express it, with the thought of a burial--an almost willingness, if +his bed could be laid amid such loveliness, to be brought and left +here to his repose. Purely imaginary as any difference in this +circumstance is, it must, at least, always affect the sick powerfully; +and with the common practice of sending the dying to Italy, as a last +hope, I consider the exquisite beauty of this place of burial, as more +than a common accident of happiness. + +Farther on, upon the same terrace, are two monuments that interested +me. One marks the grave of a young English girl,[10] the pride of a +noble family, and, as a sculptor told me, who had often seen and +admired her, a model of high-born beauty. She was riding with a party +on the banks of the Tiber, when her horse became unmanageable, and +backed into the river. She sank instantly, and was swept so rapidly +away by the current, that her body was not found for many months. Her +tombstone is adorned with a bas-relief, representing an angel +receiving her from the waves. + +The other is the grave of a young lady of twenty, who was at the baths +of Lucca, last summer, in pursuit of health. She died at the first +approach of winter. I had the melancholy pleasure of knowing her +slightly, and we used to meet her in the winding path upon the bank of +the romantic river Lima, at evening, borne in a sedan, with her mother +and sister walking at her side, the fairest victim consumption ever +seized. She had all the peculiar beauty of the disease, the +transparent complexion, and the unnaturally bright eye, added to +features cast in the clearest and softest mould of female loveliness. +She excited general interest even among the gay and dissipated crowd +of a watering place; and if her sedan was missed in the evening +promenade, the inquiry for her was anxious and universal. She is +buried in a place that seems made for such as herself. + +We descended to the lower enclosure at the foot of the slight +declivity. The first grave here is that of _Keats_. The inscription on +his monument runs thus: "_This grave contains all that was mortal of a +young English poet, who, on his death-bed, in the bitterness of his +heart at the malicious power of his enemies, desired these words to be +engraved on his tomb_: HERE LIES ONE WHOSE NAME WAS WRITTEN IN WATER." +He died at Rome in 1821. Every reader knows his history and the cause +of his death. Shelley says, in the preface to his elegy, "The savage +criticism on his poems, which appeared in the Quarterly Review, +produced the most violent effect on his susceptible mind; the +agitation thus originated ended in a rupture of a blood-vessel in the +lungs; a rapid consumption ensued, and the succeeding acknowledgments, +from more candid critics, of the true greatness of his powers, were +ineffectual to heal the wound thus wantonly inflicted." Keats was, no +doubt, a poet of very uncommon promise. He had all the wealth of +genius within him, but he had not learned, before he was killed by +criticism, the received, and, therefore, the best manner of producing +it for the eye of the world. Had he lived longer, the strength and +richness which break continually through the affected style of +Endymion and Lamia and his other poems, must have formed themselves +into some noble monuments of his powers. As it is, there is not a poet +living who could surpass the material of his "Endymion"--a poem, with +all its faults, far more full of beauties. But this is not the place +for criticism. He is buried fitly for a poet, and sleeps beyond +criticism now. Peace to his ashes! + +Close to the grave of Keats is that of Dr. Bell, the author of +"Observations on Italy." This estimable man, whose comments on the +fine arts are, perhaps, as judicious and high-toned as any ever +written, has left behind him, in Naples (where he practised his +profession for some years), a host of friends, who remember and speak +of him as few are remembered and spoken of in this changing and +crowded portion of the world. His widow, who edited his works so ably +and judiciously, lives still at Naples, and is preparing just now a +new edition of his book on Italy. Having known her, and having heard +from her own lips many particulars of his life, I felt an additional +interest in visiting his grave. Both his monument and Keats's are +almost buried in the tall flowering clover of this beautiful place. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[9] Mr. John Hone, of New York. + +[10] An interesting account of this ill-fated young lady, who was on +the eve of marriage, has appeared in the Mirror. + + + + +LETTER LX. + + PRESENTATION AT THE PAPAL COURT--PILGRIMS GOING TO + VESPERS--PERFORMANCE OF THE MISERERE--TARPEIAN ROCK--THE + FORUM--PALACE OF THE CESARS--COLISEUM. + + +I have been presented to the Pope this morning, in company with +several Americans--Mr. and Mrs. Gray, of Boston, Mr. Atherton and +daughters, and Mr. Walsh of Philadelphia, and Mr. Mayer of Baltimore. +With the latter gentleman, I arrived rather late, and found that the +rest of the party had been already received, and that his Holiness was +giving audience, at the moment, to some Russian ladies of rank. Bishop +England, of Charleston, however, was good enough to send in once more, +and, in the course of a few minutes, the chamberlain in waiting +announced to us that _Il Padre Santo_ would receive us. The ante-room +was a picturesque and rather peculiar scene. Clusters of priests, of +different rank, were scattered about in the corners, dressed in a +variety of splendid costumes, white, crimson, and ermine, one or two +monks, with their picturesque beards and flowing dresses of gray or +brown, were standing near one of the doors, in their habitually humble +attitudes; two gentlemen mace-bearers guarded the door of the entrance +to the Pope's presence, their silver batons under their arms, and +their open breasted cassocks covered with fine lace; the deep bend of +the window was occupied by the American party of ladies, in the +required black veils; and around the outer door stood the helmeted +guard, a dozen stout men-at-arms, forming a forcible contrast to the +mild faces and priestly company within. + +The mace-bearers lifted the curtain, and the Pope stood before us, in +a small plain room. The Irish priest who accompanied us prostrated +himself on the floor, and kissed the embroidered slipper, and Bishop +England hastily knelt and kissed his hand, turning to present us as he +rose. His Holiness smiled, and stepped forward, with a gesture of his +hand, as if to prevent our kneeling, and, as the bishop mentioned our +names, he looked at us and nodded smilingly, but without speaking to +us. Whether he presumed we did not speak the language, or whether he +thought us too young to answer for ourselves, he confined his +inquiries about us entirely to the good bishop, leaving me, as I +wished, at leisure to study his features and manner. It was easy to +conceive that the father of the Catholic church stood before me, but I +could scarcely realize that it was a sovereign of Europe, and the +temporal monarch of millions. He was dressed in a long vesture of +snow-white flannel, buttoned together in front, with a large crimson +velvet cape over his shoulders, and band and tassels of silver cloth +hanging from beneath. A small white scull-cap covered the crown of his +head, and his hair, slightly grizzled, fell straight toward a low +forehead, expressive of good-nature merely. A large emerald on his +finger, and slippers wrought in gold, with a cross on the instep, +completed his dress. His face is heavily moulded, but unmarked, and +expressive mainly of sloth and kindness; his nose is uncommonly large, +rather pendant than prominent, and an incipient double chin, slightly +hanging cheeks, and eyes, over which the lids drop, as if in sleep, at +the end of every sentence, confirm the general impression of his +presence--that of an indolent and good old man. His inquiries were +principally of the Catholic church in Baltimore (mentioned by the +bishop as the city of Mr. Mayer's residence), of its processions, its +degree of state, and whether it was recognised by the government. At +the first pause in the conversation, his Holiness smiled and bowed, +the Irish priest prostrated himself again, and kissed his foot, and, +with a blessing from the father of the church, we retired. + +On the evening of holy Thursday, as I was on my way to St. Peter's to +hear the _miserere_ once more, I overtook the procession of pilgrims +going up to vespers. The men went first in couples, following a cross, +and escorted by gentlemen penitents covered conveniently with +sackcloth, their eyes peeping through two holes, and their +well-polished boots beneath, being the only indications by which their +penance could be betrayed to the world. The pilgrims themselves, +perhaps a hundred in all, were the dirtiest collection of beggars +imaginable, distinguished from the lazars in the street, only by a +long staff with a faded bunch of flowers attached to it, and an +oil-cloth cape stitched over with scallop-shells. Behind came the +female pilgrims, and these were led by the first ladies of rank in +Rome. It was really curious to see the mixture of humility and pride. +There were, perhaps, fifty ladies of all ages, from sixteen to fifty, +walking each between two filthy old women who supported themselves by +her arms, while near them, on either side of the procession, followed +their splendid equipages, with numerous servants, in livery, on foot, +as if to contradict to the world their temporary degradation. The +lady penitents, unlike the gentlemen, walked in their ordinary dress. +I had several acquaintances among them; and it was inconceivable, to +me, how the gay, thoughtless, fashionable creatures I had met in the +most luxurious drawing-rooms of Rome, could be prevailed upon to +become a part in such a ridiculous parade of humility. The chief +penitent, who carried a large, heavy crucifix at the head of the +procession, was the Princess ----, at whose weekly soirees and balls +assemble all that is gay and pleasure-loving in Rome. Her two nieces, +elegant girls of eighteen or twenty, walked at her side, carrying +lighted candles, of four or five feet in length, in broad day-light, +through the streets! + +The procession crept slowly up to the church, and I left them kneeling +at the tomb of St. Peter, and went to the side chapel, to listen to +the _miserere_. The choir here is said to be inferior to that in the +Sistine chapel, but the circumstances more than make up for the +difference, which, after all, it takes a nice ear to detect. I could +not but congratulate myself, as I sat down upon the base of a pillar, +in the vast aisle, without the chapel where the choir were chanting, +with the twilight gathering in the lofty arches, and the candles of +the various processions creeping to the consecrated sepulchre from the +distant parts of the church. It was so different in that crowded and +suffocating chapel of the Vatican, where, fine as was the music, I +vowed positively never to subject myself to such annoyance again. + +It had become almost dark, when the last candle but one was +extinguished in the symbolical pyramid, and the first almost painful +note of the _miserere_ wailed out into the vast church of St. Peter. +For the next half hour, the kneeling listeners, around the door of the +chapel, seemed spell-bound in their motionless attitudes. The darkness +thickened, the hundred lamps at the far-off sepulchre of the saint, +looked like a galaxy of twinkling points of fire, almost lost in the +distance; and from the now perfectly obscured choir, poured, in +ever-varying volume, the dirge-like music, in notes inconceivably +plaintive and affecting. The power, the mingled mournfulness and +sweetness, the impassioned fulness, at one moment, and the lost, +shrieking wildness of one solitary voice, at another, carry away the +soul like a whirlwind. I have never been so moved by anything. It is +not in the scope of language to convey an idea to another of the +effect of the _miserere_. + +It was not till several minutes after the music had ceased, that the +dark figures rose up from the floor about me. As we approached the +door of the church, the full moon, about three hours risen, poured +broadly under the arch of the portico, inundating the whole front of +the lofty dome with a flood of light, such as falls only on Italy. +There seemed to be no atmosphere between. Daylight is scarce more +intense. The immense square, with its slender obelisk and embracing +crescents of colonnade, lay spread out as definitely to the eye as at +noon, and the two famous fountains shot up their clear waters to the +sky, the moonlight streamed through the spray, and every drop as +visible and bright as a diamond. + +I got out of the press of carriages, and took a by-street along the +Tiber, to the Coliseum. Passing the Jews' quarter, which shuts at dark +by heavy gates, I found myself near the Tarpeian rock, and entered the +Forum, behind the ruins of the temple of Fortune. I walked toward the +palace of the Cesars, stopping to gaze on the columns, whose shadows +have fallen on the same spot, where I now saw them, for sixteen or +seventeen centuries. It checks the blood at one's heart, to stand on +the spot and remember it. There was not the sound of a footstep +through the whole wilderness of the Forum. I traversed it to the arch +of Titus in a silence, which, with the majestic ruins around, seemed +almost supernatural--the mind was left so absolutely to the powerful +associations of the place. + +Ten minutes more brought me to the Coliseum. Its gigantic walls, +arches on arches, almost to the very clouds, lay half in shadow, half +in light, the ivy hung trembling in the night air, from between the +cracks of the ruin, and it looked like some mighty wreck in a desert. +I entered, and a hundred voices announced to me the presence of half +the fashion of Rome. I had forgotten that it was _the mode_ "to go to +the Coliseum by moonlight." Here they were dancing and laughing about +the arena where thousands of Christians had been torn by wild beasts, +for the amusement of the emperors of Rome; where gladiators had fought +and died; where the sands beneath their feet were more eloquent of +blood than any other spot on the face of the earth--and one sweet +voice proposed a dance, and another wished she could have music and +supper, and the solemn old arches re-echoed with shouts and laughter. +The travestie of the thing was amusing. I mingled in the crowd, and +found acquaintances of every nation, and an hour I had devoted to +romantic solitude and thought passed away, perhaps, quite as +agreeably, in the nonsense of the most thoughtless triflers in +society. + + + + +LETTER LXI. + + VIGILS OVER THE HOST--CEREMONIES OF EASTER SUNDAY--THE + PROCESSION--HIGH MASS--THE POPE BLESSING THE PEOPLE--CURIOUS + ILLUMINATION--RETURN TO FLORENCE--RURAL FESTA--HOSPITALITY OF + THE FLORENTINES--EXPECTED MARRIAGE OF THE GRAND DUKE. + + +ROME, 1833.--This is Friday of the holy week. The host, which was +deposited yesterday amid its thousand lamps in the Paoline chapel, was +taken from its place this morning, in solemn procession, and carried +back to the Sistine, after lying in the consecrated place twenty-four +hours. Vigils were kept over it all night. The Paoline chapel has no +windows, and the lights are so disposed as to multiply its receding +arches till the eye is lost in them. The altar on which the host lay +was piled up to the roof in a pyramid of light, and with the prostrate +figures constantly covering the floor, and the motionless soldier in +antique armor at the entrance, it was like some scene of wild romance. + +The ceremonies of Easter Sunday were performed where all others should +have been--in the body of St. Peter's. Two lines of soldiers, forming +an aisle up the centre, stretched from the square without the portico +to the sacred sepulchre. Two temporary platforms for the various +diplomatic corps and other privileged persons occupied the sides, and +the remainder of the church was filled by thousands of strangers, +Roman peasantry, and contadini (in picturesque red boddices, and with +golden bodkins through their hair), from all the neighboring towns. + +A loud blast of trumpets, followed by military music, announced the +coming of the procession. The two long lines of soldiers presented +arms, and the esquires of the Pope entered first, in red robes, +followed by the long train of proctors, chamberlains, mitre-bearers, +and incense-bearers, the men-at-arms, escorting the procession on +either side. Just before the cardinals, came a cross-bearer, supported +on either side by men in showy surplices carrying lights, and then +came the long and brilliant line of white-headed cardinals, in scarlet +and ermine. The military dignitaries of the monarch preceded the Pope, +a splendid mass of uniforms, and his Holiness then appeared, +supported, in his great gold and velvet chair, upon the shoulders of +twelve men, clothed in red damask, with a canopy over his head, +sustained by eight gentlemen, in short, violet-colored silk mantles. +Six of the Swiss guard (representing the six Catholic canons) walked +near the Pope, with drawn swords on their shoulders, and after his +chair followed a troop of civil officers, whose appointments I did not +think it worth while to enquire. The procession stopped when the Pope +was opposite the "chapel of the holy sacrament," and his Holiness +descended. The tiara was lifted from his head by a cardinal, and he +knelt upon a cushion of velvet and gold to adore the "sacred host," +which was exposed upon the altar. After a few minutes he returned to +his chair, his tiara was again set on his head, and the music rang +out anew, while the procession swept on to the sepulchre. + +The spectacle was all splendor. The clear space through the vast area +of the church, lined with glittering soldiery, the dazzling gold and +crimson of the coming procession, the high papal chair, with the +immense fan-banners of peacock's feathers, held aloft, the almost +immeasurable dome and mighty pillars, above and around, and the +multitudes of silent people, produced a scene which, connected with +the idea of religious worship, and added to by the swell of a hundred +instruments of music, quite dazzled and overpowered me. + +The high mass (performed but three times a year) proceeded. At the +latter part of it, the Pope mounted to the altar, and, after various +ceremonies, elevated the sacred host. At the instant that the small +white wafer was seen between the golden candlesticks, the two immense +lines of soldiers dropped upon their knees, and all the people +prostrated themselves at the same instant. + +This fine scene over, we hurried to the square in front of the church, +to secure places for a still finer one--that of the Pope blessing the +people. Several thousand troops, cavalry and footmen, were drawn up +between the steps and the obelisk, in the centre of the piazza, and +the immense area embraced by the two circling colonnades was crowded +by, perhaps, a hundred thousand people, with eyes directed to one +single point. The variety of bright costumes, the gay liveries of the +ambassadors' and cardinals' carriages, the vast body of soldiery, and +the magnificent frame of columns and fountains in which this gorgeous +picture was contained, formed the grandest scene conceivable. + +In a few minutes the Pope appeared in the balcony, over the great +door of St. Peter's. Every hat in the vast multitude was lifted and +every knee bowed in an instant. _Half a nation prostrate together, and +one gray old man lifting up his hands to heaven and blessing them!_ + +The cannon of the castle of St. Angelo thundered, the innumerable +bells of Rome pealed forth simultaneously, the troops fell into line +and motion, and the children of the two hundred and fifty-seventh +successor of St. Peter departed _blessed_. + +In the evening all the world assembled to see the illumination, which +it is useless to attempt to describe. + +The night was cloudy and black, and every line in the architecture of +the largest building in the world was defined in light, even to the +cross, which, as I have said before, is at the height of a mountain +from the base. For about an hour it was a delicate but vast structure +of shining lines, like a drawing of a glorious temple on the clouds. +At eight, as the clock struck, flakes of fire burst from every point, +and the whole building seemed started into flame. It was done by a +simultaneous kindling of torches in a thousand points, a man stationed +at each. The glare seemed to exceed that of noonday. No description +can give an idea of it. + +I am not sure that I have not been a little tedious in describing the +ceremonies of the holy week. Forsyth says in his bilious book, that he +"never could read, and certainly never could write, a description of +them." They have struck me, however, as particularly unlike anything +ever seen in our own country, and I have endeavored to draw them +slightly and with as little particularity as possible. I trust that +some of the readers of the Mirror may find them entertaining and +novel. + + * * * * * + +FLORENCE, 1833.--I found myself at six this morning, where I had found +myself at the same hour a year before--in the midst of the rural festa +in the Cascine of Florence. The Duke, to-day, breakfasts at his farm. +The people of Florence, high and low, come out, and spread their +repasts upon the fine sward of the openings in the wood, the roads are +watered, and the royal equipages dash backward and forward, while the +ladies hang their shawls in the trees, and children and lovers stroll +away into the shade, and all looks like a scene from Boccaccio. + +I thought it a picturesque and beautiful sight last year, and so +described it. But I was a stranger then, newly arrived in Florence, +and felt desolate amid the happiness of so many. A few months among so +frank and warm-hearted a people as the Tuscans, however, makes one at +home. The tradesman and his wife, familiar with your face, and happy +to be seen in their holyday dresses, give you the "_buon giorno_" as +you pass, and a cup of red wine or a seat at the cloth on the grass is +at your service in almost any group in the _prato_. I am sure I should +not find so many acquaintances in the town in which I have passed my +life. + +A little beyond the crowd, lies a broad open glade of the greenest +grass, in the very centre of the woods of the farm. A broad fringe of +shade is flung by the trees along the eastern side, and at their roots +cluster the different parties of the nobles and the ambassadors. Their +gayly-dressed _chasseurs_ are in waiting, the silver plate quivers and +glances, as the chance rays of the sun break through the leaves over +head, and at a little distance, in the road, stand their showy +equipages in a long line from the great oak to the farmhouse. + +In the evening, there was an illumination of the green alleys and the +little square in front of the house, and a band of music for the +people. Within, the halls were thrown open for a ball. It was given by +the Grand Duke to the Duchess of Litchtenberg, the widow of Eugene +Beauharnois. The company assembled at eight, and the presentations +(two lovely countrywomen of our own among them), were over at nine. +The dancing then commenced, and we drove home, through the fading +lights still burning in the trees, an hour or two past midnight. + +The Grand Duke is about to be married to one of the princesses of +Naples, and great preparations are making for the event. He looks +little like a bridegroom, with his sad face, and unshorn beard and +hair. It is, probably, not a marriage of inclination, for the fat +princess expecting him, is every way inferior to the incomparable +woman he has lost, and he passed half the last week in a lonely visit +to the chamber in which she died, in his palace at Pisa. + + + + +LETTER LXII. + + BOLOGNA--MALIBRAN--PARMA--NIGHTINGALES OF + LOMBARDY--PLACENZA--AUSTRIAN SOLDIERS--THE + SIMPLON--MILAN--RESEMBLANCE TO PARIS--THE + CATHEDRAL--GUERCINO'S HAGAR--MILANESE COFFEE. + + +MILAN.--My fifth journey over the Apennines--dull of course. On the +second evening we were at Bologna. The long colonnades pleased me less +than before, with their crowds of foreign officers and ill-dressed +inhabitants, and a placard for the opera, announcing Malibran's last +night, relieved us of the prospect of a long evening of weariness. The +divine music of _La Norma_ and a crowded and brilliant audience, +enthusiastic in their applause, seemed to inspire this still +incomparable creature even beyond her wont. She sang with a fulness, +an abandonment, a passionate energy and sweetness that seemed to come +from a soul rapt and possessed beyond control, with the melody it had +undertaken. They were never done calling her on the stage after the +curtain had fallen. After six re-appearances, she came out once more +to the footlights, and murmuring something inaudible from her lips +that showed strong agitation, she pressed her hands together, bowed +till her long hair, falling over her shoulders, nearly touched her +feet, and retired in tears. She is the siren of Europe for me! + +I was happy to have no more to do with the Duke of Modena, than to eat +a dinner in his capital. We did "not forget the picture," but my +inquiries for it were as fruitless as before. I wonder whether the +author of the Pleasures of Memory has the pleasure of remembering +having seen the picture himself! "Tassoni's bucket which is not the +true one," is still shown in the tower, and the keeper will kiss the +cross upon his fingers, that Samuel Rogers has written a false line. + +At Parma we ate parmesan and saw _the_ Correggio. The angel who holds +the book up to the infant Saviour, the female laying her cheek to his +feet, the countenance of the holy child himself, are creations that +seem apart from all else in the schools of painting. They are like a +group, not from life, but from heaven. They are superhuman, and, +unlike other pictures of beauty which stir the heart as if they +resembled something one had loved or might have loved, these mount +into the fancy like things transcending sympathy, and only within +reach of an intellectual and elevated wonder. This is the picture that +Sir Thomas Lawrence returned six times in one day to see. It is the +only thing I saw to admire in the Duchy of Maria Louisa. An Austrian +regiment marched into the town as we left it, and an Italian at the +gate told us that the Duchess had disbanded her last troops of the +country, and supplied their place with these yellow and black Croats +and Illyrians. Italy is Austria now to the foot of the Apennines--if +not to the top of Radicofani. + +Lombardy is full of nightingales. They sing by day, however (as not +specified in poetry). They are up quite as early as the lark, and the +green hedges are alive with their gurgling and changeful music till +twilight. Nothing can exceed the fertility of these endless plains. +They are four or five hundred miles of uninterrupted garden. The same +eternal level road, the same rows of elms and poplars on either side, +the same long, slimy canals, the same square, vine-laced, perfectly +green pastures and cornfields, the same shaped houses, the same-voiced +beggars with the same sing-song whine, and the same villanous +Austrians poring over your passports and asking to be paid for it, +from the Alps to the Apennines. It is wearisome, spite of green leaves +and nightingales. A bare rock or a good brigand-looking mountain would +so refresh the eye! + +At Placenza, one of those admirable German bands was playing in the +public square, while a small corps of picked men were manoeuvred. +Even an Italian, I should think, though he knew and felt it was the +music of his oppressors, might have been pleased to listen. And +pleased they seemed to be--for there were hundreds of dark-haired and +well-made men, with faces and forms for heroes, standing and keeping +time with the well-played instruments, as peacefully as if there were +no such thing as liberty, and no meaning in the foreign uniforms +crowding them from their own pavement. And there were the women of +Placenza, nodding from the balconies to the white mustaches and padded +coats strutting below, and you would never dream Italy thought herself +wronged, watching the exchange of courtesies between her dark-eyed +daughters and these fair-haired coxcombs. + +We crossed the Po, and entered Austria's _nominal_ dominions. They +rummaged our baggage as if they smelt republicanism somewhere, and +after showing a strong disposition to retain a volume of very bad +poetry as suspicious, and detaining us two long hours, they had the +modesty to ask to be paid for letting us off lightly. When we +declined it, the _chef_ threatened us a precious searching "_the next +time_." How willingly I would submit to the annoyance to have that +_next time_ assured to me! Every step I take toward the bounds of +Italy, pulls so upon my heart! + +As most travellers come into Italy over the Simplon, Milan makes +generally the first enthusiastic chapter in their books. I have +reversed the order myself, and have a better right to praise it from +comparison. For exterior, there is certainly no city in Italy +comparable to it. The streets are broad and noble, the buildings +magnificent, the pavement quite the best in Europe, and the Milanese +(all of whom I presume I have seen, for it is Sunday, and the streets +swarm with them), are better dressed, and look "better to do in the +world" than the Tuscans, who are gayer and more Italian, and the +Romans, who are graver and vastly handsomer. Milan is quite like +Paris. The showy and mirror-lined _cafes_, the elegant shops, the +variety of strange people and costumes, and a new gallery lately +opened in imitation of the glass-roofed _passages_ of the French +capital, make one almost feel that the next turn will bring him upon +the Boulevards. + +The famous cathedral, nearly completed by Napoleon, is a sort of +Aladdin creation, quite too delicate and beautiful for the open air. +The filmly traceries of gothic fretwork, the needle-like minarets, the +hundreds of beautiful statues with which it is studded, the intricate, +graceful, and bewildering architecture of every window and turret, and +the frost-like frailness and delicacy of the whole mass, make an +effect altogether upon the eye that must stand high on the list of new +sensations. It is a vast structure withal, but a middling easterly +breeze, one would think in looking at it, would lift it from its base +and bear it over the Atlantic like the meshes of a cobweb. Neither +interior nor exterior impresses you with the feeling of awe common to +other large churches. The sun struggles through the immense windows of +painted glass, staining every pillar and carved cornice with the +richest hues, and wherever the eye wanders it grows giddy with the +wilderness of architecture. The people on their knees are like +paintings in the strong artificial light, the checkered pavement seems +trembling with a quivering radiance, the altar is far and indistinct, +and the lamps burning over the tomb of Saint Carlo, shine out from the +centre like gems glistening in the midst of some enchanted hall. This +reads very like rhapsody, but it is the way the place impressed me. It +is like a great dream. Its excessive beauty scarce seems constant +while the eye rests upon it. + +The _Brera_ is a noble palace, occupied by the public galleries of +statuary and painting. I felt on leaving Florence that I could give +pictures a very long holyday. To live on them, as one does in Italy, +is like dining from morn till night. The famous Guercino, is at Milan, +however, the "Hagar," which Byron talks of so enthusiastically, and I +once more surrendered myself to a cicerone. The picture catches your +eye on your first entrance. There is that harmony and effect in the +color that mark a masterpiece, even in a passing glance. Abraham +stands in the centre of the group, a fine, prophet-like, "green old +man," with a mild decision in his eye, from which there is evidently +no appeal. Sarah has turned her back, and you can just read in the +half-profile glance of her face, that there is a little pity mingled +in her hard-hearted approval of her rival's banishment. But Hagar--who +can describe the world of meaning in her face? The closed lips have +in them a calm incredulousness, contradicted with wonderful nature in +the flushed and troubled forehead, and the eyes red with long weeping. +The gourd of water is hung over her shoulder, her hand is turning her +sorrowful boy from the door, and she has looked back once more, with a +large tear coursing down her cheek, to read in the face of her master +if she is indeed driven forth for ever. It is the instant before pride +and despair close over her heart. You see in the picture that the next +moment is the crisis of her life. Her gaze is straining upon the old +man's lips, and you wait breathlessly to see her draw up her bending +form, and depart in proud sorrow for the wilderness. It is a piece of +powerful and passionate poetry. It affects you like nothing but a +reality. The eyes get warm, and the heart beats quick, and as you walk +away you feel as if a load of oppressive sympathy was lifting from +your heart. + +I have seen little else in Milan, except Austrian soldiers, of whom +there are fifteen thousand in this single capital! The government has +issued an order to officers not on duty, to appear in citizen's dress, +it is supposed, to diminish the appearance of so much military +preparation. For the rest, they make a kind of coffee here, by boiling +it with cream, which is better than anything of the kind either in +Paris or Constantinople; and the Milanese are, for slaves, the most +civil people I have seen, after the Florentines. There is little +English society here; I know not why, except that the Italians are +rich enough to be exclusive and make their houses difficult of access +to strangers. + + + + +LETTER LXIII. + + A MELANCHOLY PROCESSION--LAGO MAGGIORE--ISOLA BELLA--THE + SIMPLON--MEETING A FELLOW-COUNTRYMAN--THE VALLEY OF THE RHONE. + + +In going out of the gates of Milan, we met a cart full of peasants, +tied together and guarded by _gens d'armes_, the fifth sight of the +kind that has crossed us since we passed the Austrian border. The poor +fellows looked very innocent and very sorry. The extent of their +offences probably might be the want of a passport, and a desire to +step over the limits of his majesty's possessions. A train of +beautiful horses, led by soldiers along the ramparts, the property of +the Austrian officers, were in melancholy contrast to their sad faces. + +The clear snowy Alps soon came in sight, and their cold beauty +refreshed us in the midst of a heat that prostrated every nerve in the +system. It is only the first of May, and they are mowing the grass +everywhere on the road, the trees are in their fullest leaf, the frogs +and nightingales singing each other down, and the grasshopper would be +a burden. Toward night we crossed the Sardinian frontier, and in an +hour were set down at an auberge on the bank of Lake Maggiore, in the +little town of Arona. The mountains on the other side of the broad +and mirror-like water, are speckled with ruined castles, here and +there a boat is leaving its long line of ripples behind in its course, +the cattle are loitering home, the peasants sit on the benches before +their doors, and all the lovely circumstances of a rural summer's +sunset are about us, in one of the very loveliest spots in nature. A +very old Florence friend is my companion, and what with mutual +reminiscences of sunny Tuscany, and the deepest love in common for the +sky over our heads, and the green land around us, we are noting down +"red days" in our calendar of travel. + +We walked from Arona by sunrise, four or five miles along the borders +of Lake Maggiore. The kind-hearted peasants on their way to the market +raised their hats to us in passing, and I was happy that the greeting +was still "_buon giorno_." Those dark-lined mountains before us were +to separate me too soon from the mellow accents in which it was +spoken. As yet, however, it was all Italian--the ultra-marine sky, the +clear, half-purpled hills, the inspiring air--we felt in every pulse +that it was still Italy. + +We were at Baveno at an early hour, and took a boat for _Isola Bella_. +It looks like a gentleman's villa afloat. A boy would throw a stone +entirely over it in any direction. It strikes you like a kind of toy +as you look at it from a distance, and getting nearer, the illusion +scarcely dissipates--for, from the water's edge, the orange-laden +terraces are piled one above another like a pyramidal fruit-basket, +the villa itself peers above like a sugar castle, and it scarce seems +real enough to land upon. We pulled round to the northern side, and +disembarked at a broad stone staircase, where a cicerone, with a look +of suppressed wisdom, common to his vocation, met us with the offer of +his services. + +The entrance-hall was hung with old armor, and a magnificent suite of +apartments above, opening on all sides upon the lake, was lined +thickly with pictures, none of them remarkable except one or two +landscapes by the savage Tempesta. Travellers going the other way +would probably admire the collection more than we. We were glad to be +handed over by our pragmatical custode to a pretty contadina, who +announced herself as the gardener's daughter, and gave us each a bunch +of roses. It was a proper commencement to an acquaintance upon Isola +Bella. She led the way to the water's edge, where, in the foundations +of the palace, a suite of eight or ten spacious rooms is constructed +_a la grotte_--with a pavement laid of small stones of different +colors, walls and roof of fantastically set shells and pebbles, and +statues that seem to have reason in their nudity. The only light came +in at the long doors opening down to the lake, and the deep leather +sofas, and dark cool atmosphere, with the light break of the waves +outside, and the long views away toward Isola Madra, and the far-off +opposite shore, composed altogether a most seductive spot for an +indolent humor and a summer's day. I shall keep it as a cool +recollection till sultry summers trouble me no more. + +But the garden was the prettiest place. The lake is lovely enough any +way; but to look at it through perspectives of orange alleys, and have +the blue mountains broken by stray branches of tulip-trees, clumps of +crimson rhododendron, and clusters of citron, yellower than gold; to +sit on a garden-seat in the shade of a thousand roses, with +sweet-scented shrubs and verbenums, and a mixture of novel and +delicious perfumes embalming the air about you, and gaze up at snowy +Alps and sharp precipices, and down upon a broad smooth mirror in +which the islands lie like clouds, and over which the boats are +silently creeping with their white sails, like birds asleep in the +sky--why (not to disparage nature), it seems to my poor judgment, that +these artificial appliances are an improvement even to Lago Maggiore. + +On one side, without the villa walls, are two or three small houses, +one of which is occupied as a hotel; and here, if I had a friend with +matrimony in his eye, would I strongly recommend lodgings for the +honeymoon. A prettier cage for a pair of billing doves no poet would +conceive you. + +We got on to Domo d'Ossola to sleep, saying many an oft-said thing +about the entrance to the valleys of the Alps. They seem common when +spoken of, these romantic places, but they are not the less new in the +glow of a first impression. + +We were a little in start of the sun this morning, and commenced the +ascent of the Simplon by a gray summer's dawn, before which the last +bright star had not yet faded. From Domo d'Ossola we rose directly +into the mountains, and soon wound into the wildest glens by a road +which was flung along precipices and over chasms and waterfalls like a +waving riband. The horses went on at a round trot, and so skilfully +are the difficulties of the ascent surmounted, that we could not +believe we had passed the spot that from below hung above us so +appallingly. The route follows the foaming river Vedro, which frets +and plunges along at its side or beneath its hanging bridges, with the +impetuosity of a mountain torrent, where the stream is swollen at +every short distance with pretty waterfalls, messengers from the +melting snows on the summits. There was one, a water-_slide_ rather +than a fall, which I stopped long to admire. It came from near the +peak of the mountain, leaping at first from a green clump of firs, +and descending a smooth inclined plane, of perhaps two hundred feet. +The effect was like drapery of the most delicate lace, dropping into +festoons from the hand. The slight waves overtook each other and +mingled and separated, always preserving their elliptical and foaming +curves, till, in a smooth scoop near the bottom, they gathered into a +snowy mass, and leaped into the Vedro in the shape of a twisted shell. +If wishing could have witched it into Mr. Cole's sketch-book, he would +have a new variety of water for his next composition. + +After seven hours' driving, which scarce seemed ascending but for the +snow and ice and the clear air it brought us into, we stopped to +breakfast at the village of Simplon, "three thousand, two hundred and +sixteen feet above the sea level." Here we first realized that we had +left Italy. The landlady spoke French and the postillions German! My +sentiment has grown threadbare with travel, but I don't mind +confessing that the circumstance gave me an unpleasant thickness in +the throat. I threw open the southern window, and looked back toward +the marshes of Lombardy, and if I did not say the poetical thing, it +was because + + "It is the silent grief that cuts the heart-strings." + +In sober sadness, one may well regret any country where his life has +been filled fuller than elsewhere of sunshine and gladness; and such, +by a thousand enchantments, has Italy been to me. Its climate is life +in my nostrils, its hills and valleys are the poetry of such things, +and its marbles, pictures, and palaces, beset the soul like the very +necessities of existence. You can exist elsewhere, but oh! you _live_ +in Italy! + +I was sitting by my English companion on a sledge in front of the +hotel, enjoying the sunshine, when the diligence drove up, and six or +eight young men alighted. One of them, walking up and down the road to +get the cramp of a confined seat out of his legs, addressed a remark +to us in English. We had neither of us seen him before, but we +exclaimed simultaneously, as he turned away, "That's an American." +"How did you know he was not an Englishman?" I asked. "Because," said +my friend, "he spoke to us without an introduction and without a +reason, as Englishmen are not in the habit of doing, and because he +ended his sentence with 'sir,' as no Englishman does except he is +talking to an inferior, or wishes to insult you. And how did you know +it?" asked he. "Partly by instinct," I answered, "but more, because +though a traveller, he wears a new hat that cost him ten dollars, and +a new cloak that cost him fifty, (a peculiarly American extravagance,) +because he made no inclination of his body either in addressing or +leaving us, though his intention was to be civil, and because he used +fine dictionary words to express a common idea, which, by the way, +too, betrays his southern breeding. And if you want other evidence, he +has just asked the gentleman near him to ask the conducteur something +about his breakfast, and an American is the only man in the world who +ventures to come abroad without at least French enough to keep himself +from starving." It may appear ill-natured to write down such +criticisms on one's own countryman; but the national peculiarities by +which we are distinguished from foreigners, seemed so well defined in +this instance, that I thought it worth mentioning. We found afterward +that our conjecture was right. His name and country were on the brass +plate of his portmanteau in most legible letters, and I recognized it +directly as the address of an amiable and excellent man, of whom I +had once or twice heard in Italy, though I had never before happened +to meet him. Three of the faults oftenest charged upon our countrymen, +are _over-fine clothes_, _over fine-words_, and _over-fine_, or +_over-free manners_! + +From Simplon we drove two or three miles between heaps of snow, lying +in some places from ten to six feet deep. Seven hours before, we had +ridden through fields of grain almost ready for the harvest. After +passing one or two galleries built over the road to protect it from +the avalanches where it ran beneath the loftier precipices, we got out +of the snow, and saw Brig, the small town at the foot of the Simplon, +on the other side, lying almost directly beneath us. It looked as if +one might toss his cap down into its pretty gardens. Yet we were four +or five hours in reaching it, by a road that seemed in most parts +scarcely to descend at all. The views down the valley of the Rhone, +which opened continually before us, were of exquisite beauty, The +river itself, which is here near its source, looked like a meadow +rivulet in its silver windings, and the gigantic Helvetian Alps which +rose in their snow on the other side of the valley, were glittering in +the slant rays of a declining sun, and of a grandeur of size and +outline which diminished, even more than distance, the river and the +clusters of villages at their feet. + + + + +LETTER LXIV. + + SWITZERLAND--LA VALAIS--THE CRETINS AND THE GOITRES--A + FRENCHMAN'S OPINION OF NIAGARA--LAKE LEMAN--CASTLE OF + CHILLON--ROCKS OF MEILLERIE--REPUBLICAN AIR--MONT + BLANC--GENEVA--THE STEAMER--PARTING SORROW. + + +We have been two days and a half loitering down through the Swiss +canton of Valais, and admiring every hour the magnificence of these +snow-capped and green-footed Alps. The little chalets seem just lodged +by accident on the crags, or stuck against slopes so steep, that the +mowers of the mountain-grass are literally let down by ropes to their +dizzy occupation. The goats alone seem to have an exemption from all +ordinary laws of gravitation, feeding against cliffs which it makes +one giddy to look on only; and the short-waisted girls dropping a +courtesy and blushing as they pass the stranger, emerge from the +little mountain-paths, and stop by the first spring, to put on their +shoes and arrange their ribands coquetishly, before entering the +village. + +The two dreadful curses of these valleys meet one at every step--the +_cretins_, or natural fools, of which there is at least one in every +family; and the _goitre_ or swelled throat, to which there is hardly +an exception among the women. It really makes travelling in +Switzerland a melancholy business, with all its beauty; at every turn +in the road, a gibbering and moaning idiot, and in every group of +females, a disgusting array of excrescences too common even to be +concealed. Really, to see girls that else were beautiful, arrayed in +all their holyday finery, but with a defect that makes them monsters +to the unaccustomed eye, their throats swollen to the size of their +heads, seems to me one of the most curious and pitiable things I have +met in my wanderings. Many attempts have been made to account for the +growth of the _goitre_, but it is yet unexplained. The men are not so +subject to it as the women, though among them, even, it is frightfully +common. But how account for the continual production by ordinary +parents of this brute race of _cretins_? They all look alike, +dwarfish, large-mouthed, grinning, and of hideous features and +expression. It is said that the children of strangers, born in the +valley, are very likely to be idiots, resembling the cretin exactly. +It seems a supernatural curse upon the land. The Valaisians, however, +consider it a blessing to have one in the family. + +The dress of the women of La Valais is excessively unbecoming, and a +pretty face is rare. Their manners are kind and polite, and at the +little _auberges_, where we have stopped on the road, there has been a +cleanliness and a generosity in the supply of the table, which prove +virtues among them, not found in Italy. + +At Turtmann, we made a little excursion into the mountains to see a +cascade. It falls about a hundred feet, and has just now more water +than usual from the melting of the snows. It is a pretty fall. A +Frenchman writes in the book of the hotel, that he has seen Niagara +and Trenton Falls, in America, and that they do not compare with the +cascade of Turtmann! + +From Martigny the scenery began to grow richer, and after passing the +celebrated Fall of the Pissevache (which springs from the top of a +high Alp almost into the road, and is really a splendid cascade), we +approached Lake Leman in a gorgeous sunset. We rose a slight hill, and +over the broad sheet of water on the opposite shore, reflected with +all its towers in a mirror of gold, lay the _castle of Chillon_. A +bold green mountain, rose steeply behind, the sparkling village of +Vevey lay farther down on the water's edge; and away toward the +sinking sun, stretched the long chain of the Jura, teinted with all +the hues of a dolphin. Never was such a lake of beauty--or it never +sat so pointedly for its picture. Mountains and water, chateaux and +shallops, vineyards and verdure, could do no more. We left the +carriage and walked three or four miles along the southern bank, under +the "Rocks of Meillerie," and the spirit of St. Preux's Julie, if she +haunt the scene where she caught her death, of a sunset in May, is the +most enviable of ghosts. I do not wonder at the prating in albums of +Lake Leman. For me, it is (after Val d'Arno from Fiesoli) the _ne plus +ultra_ of a scenery Paradise. + +We are stopping for the night at St. Gingoulf, on a swelling bank of +the lake, and we have been lying under the trees in front of the hotel +till the last perceptible teint is gone from the sky over Jura. Two +pedestrian gentlemen, with knapsacks and dogs, have just arrived, and +a whole family of French people, including parrots and monkeys, came +in before us, and are deafening the house with their chattering. A cup +of coffee, and then good night! + +My companion, who has travelled all over Europe on foot, confirms my +opinion that there is no drive on the continent, equal to the forty +miles between the rocks of Meillerie and Geneva, on the southern bank +of the Leman. The lake is not often much broader than the Hudson, the +shores are the noble mountains sung so gloriously by Childe Harold; +Vevey, Lausanne, Copet, and a string of smaller villages, all famous +in poetry and story, fringe the opposite water's edge with cottages +and villages, while you wind for ever along a green lane following the +bend of the shore, the road as level as your hall pavement, and green +hills massed up with trees and verdure, overshadowing you continually. +The world has a great many sweet spots in it, and I have found many a +one which would make fitting scenery for the brightest act of life's +changeful drama--but here is one, where it seems to me as difficult +not to feel genial and kindly, as for Taglioni to keep from floating +away like a smoke-curl when she is dancing in La Bayadere. + +We passed a bridge and drew in a long breath to try the difference in +the air--we were in the _republic_ of Geneva. It smelt very much as it +did in the dominions of his majesty of Sardinia--sweet-briar, +hawthorn, violets and all. I used to think when I first came from +America, that the flowers (republicans by nature as well as birds) +were less fragrant under a monarchy. + +Mont Blanc loomed up very white in the south, but like other +distinguished persons of whom we form an opinion from the description +of poets, the "monarch of mountains" did not seem to me so _very_ +superior to his fellows. After a look or two at him as we approached +Geneva, I ceased straining my head out of the cabriolet, and devoted +my eyes to things more within the scale of my affections--the scores +of lovely villas sprinkling the hills and valleys by which we +approached the city. Sweet--sweet places they are to be sure! And +then the month is May, and the straw-bonneted and white-aproned girls, +ladies and peasants alike, were all out at their porches and +balconies, lover-like couples were sauntering down the park-lanes, +_one_ servant passed us with a tri-cornered blue billet-doux between +his thumb and finger, the nightingales were singing their very hearts +away to the new-blown roses, and a sense of summer and seventeen, days +of sunshine and sonnet-making, came over me irresistibly. I should +like to see June out in Geneva. + +The little steamer that makes the tour of Lake Leman, began to "phiz" +by sunrise directly under the windows of our hotel. We were soon on +the pier, where our entrance into the boat was obstructed by a weeping +cluster of girls, embracing and parting very unwillingly with a young +lady of some eighteen years, who was lovely enough to have been wept +for by as many grown-up gentlemen. Her own tears were under better +government, though her sealed lips showed that she dared not trust +herself with her voice. After another and another lingering kiss, the +boatman expressed some impatience, and she tore herself from their +arms and stepped into the waiting batteau. We were soon along side the +steamer, and sooner under way, and then, having given one wave of her +handkerchief to the pretty and sad group on the shore, our fair +fellow-passenger gave way to her feelings, and sinking upon a seat, +burst into a passionate flood of tears. There was no obtruding on such +sorrow, and the next hour or two were employed by my imagination in +filling up the little drama, of which we had seen but the touching +conclusion. + +I was pleased to find the boat (a new one) called the "Winkelreid," in +compliment to the vessel which makes the same voyage in Cooper's +"Headsman of Berne." The day altogether had begun like a chapter in a +romance. + + "Lake Leman wooed us with its crystal face," + +but there was the filmiest conceivable veil of mist over its unruffled +mirror, and the green uplands that rose from its edge had a softness +like dreamland upon their verdure. I know not whether the tearful girl +whose head was drooping over the railing felt the sympathy, but I +could not help thanking nature for her, in my heart, the whole scene +was so of the complexion of her own feelings. I could have "thrown my +ring into the sea," like Policrates Samius, "to have cause for sadness +too." + +The "Winkelreid" has (for a republican steamer), rather the +aristocratical arrangement of making those who walk _aft_ the funnel +pay twice as much as those who choose to promenade _forward_--for no +earthly reason that I can divine, other than that those who pay +dearest have the full benefit of the oily gases from the machinery, +while the humbler passenger breathes the air of heaven before it has +passed through that improving medium. Our youthful Niobe, two French +ladies not particularly pretty, an Englishman with a fishing-rod and +gun, and a coxcomb of a Swiss artist to whom I had taken a special +aversion at Rome, from a criticism I overheard upon my favorite +picture in the Colonna, my friends and myself, were the exclusive +inhalers of the oleaginous atmosphere of the stern. A crowd of the +ark's own miscellaneousness thronged the forecastle--and so you have +the programme of a day on Lake Leman. + + + + +LETTER LXV. + + LAKE LEMAN--AMERICAN APPEARANCE OF THE GENEVESE--STEAMBOAT OF + THE RHONE--GIBBON AND ROUSSEAU--ADVENTURE OF THE + LILIES--GENEVESE JEWELLERS--RESIDENCE OF VOLTAIRE--BYRON'S + NIGHT-CAP--VOLTAIRE'S WALKING-STICK AND STOCKINGS. + + +The water of Lake Leman looks very like other water, though Byron and +Shelley were nearly drowned in it; and Copet, a little village on the +Helvetian side, where we left three women and took up one man (the +village ought to be very much obliged to us), is no Paradise, though +Madame de Stael made it her residence. There _are_ Paradises, however, +with very short distances between, all the way down the northern +shore; and angels in them, if women are angels--a specimen or two of +the sex being visible with the aid of the spyglass, in nearly every +balcony and belvidere, looking upon the water. The taste in +country-houses seems to be here very much the same as in New England, +and quite unlike the half-palace, half-castle style common in Italy +and France. Indeed the dress, physiognomy, and manners of old Geneva +might make an American Genevese fancy himself at home on the Leman. +There is that subdued decency, that grave respectableness, that +black-coated, straight-haired, saint-like kind of look which is +universal in the small towns of our country, and which is as unlike +France and Italy, as a playhouse is unlike a Methodist chapel. You +would know the people of Geneva were Calvinists, whisking through the +town merely in a diligence. + +I lost sight of the town of Morges, eating a tete-a-tete breakfast +with my friend in the cabin. Switzerland is the only place out of +America where one gets cream for his coffee. I cry, Morges mercy on +that plea. + +We were at Lausanne at eleven, having steamed forty miles in five +hours. This is not quite up to the thirty-milers on the Hudson, of +which I see accounts in the papers, but we had the advantage of not +being blown up, either going or coming, and of looking for a +continuous minute on a given spot in the scenery. Then we had an iron +railing between us and that portion of the passengers who prefer +garlic to lavender-water, and we achieved our breakfast without losing +our tempers or complexions, in a scramble. The question of superiority +between Swiss and American steamers, therefore, depends very much on +the value you set on life, temper, and time. For me, as my time is not +measured in "diamond sparks," and as my life and temper are the only +gifts with which fortune has blessed me, I prefer the Swiss. + +Gibbon lived at Lausanne, and wrote here the last chapter of his +History of Rome--a circumstance which he records with affection. It is +a spot of no ordinary beauty, and the public promenade, where we sat +and looked over to Vevey and Chillon, and the Rocks of Meillerie, and +talked of Rousseau, and agreed that it was a scene, "_faite pour une +Julie, pour une Claire, et pour un Saint Preux_," is one of the +places, where, if I were to "play statue," I should like to grow to my +seat, and compromise, merely, for eyesight. We have one thing against +Lausanne, however,--it is up hill and a mile from the water; and if +Gibbon walked often from Ouchet at noon, and "larded the way" as +freely as we, I make myself certain he was not the fat man his +biographers have drawn him. + +There were some other circumstances at Lausanne which interested +_us_--but which criticism has decided can not be obtruded upon the +public. We looked about for "Julie" and "Clare," spite of Rousseau's +"_ne les y cherchez pas_," and gave a blind beggar a sous (all he +asked) for a handful of lilies-of-the-valley, pitying him ten times +more than if he had lost his eyes out of Switzerland. To be blind on +Lake Leman! blind within sight of Mont Blanc! We turned back to drop +another sous into his hat, as we reflected upon it. + +The return steamer from Vevey (I was sorry not to go to Vevey for +Rousseau's sake, and as much for Cooper's), took us up on its way to +Geneva, and we had the advantage of seeing the same scenery in a +different light. Trees, houses, and mountains, are so much finer seen +_against_ the sun, with the deep shadows toward you! + +Sitting by the stern, was a fat and fair Frenchwoman, who, like me, +had bought lilies, and about as many. With a very natural facility of +dramatic position, I imagined it had established a kind of sympathy +between us, and proposed to myself, somewhere in the fair hours, to +make it serve as an introduction. She went into the cabin after a +while, to lunch on cutlets and beer, and returned to the deck without +her lilies. Mine lay beside me, within reach of her four fingers; and, +as I was making up my mind to offer to replace her loss, she coolly +took them up, and without even a French monosyllable, commenced +throwing them overboard, stem by stem. It was very clear she had +mistaken them for her own. As the last one flew over the tafferel, the +gentleman who paid for _la biere et les cottelettes_, husband or +lover, came up with a smile and a flourish, and reminded her that she +had left her bouquet between the mustard and the beer bottle. +_Sequiter_, a scene. The lady apologized, and I disclaimed; and the +more I insisted on the delight she had given me by throwing my pretty +lilies into Lake Leman, the more she made herself unhappy, and +insisted on my being inconsolable. One should come abroad to know how +much may be said upon throwing overboard a bunch of lilies! + +The clouds gathered, and we had some hopes of a storm, but the +"darkened Jura" was merely dim, and the "live thunder" waited for +another Childe Harold. We were at Geneva at seven, and had the whole +population to witness our debarkation. The pier where we landed, and +the new bridge across the outlet of the Rhone, are the evening +promenade. + +The far-famed jewellers of Geneva are rather an aristocratic class of +merchants. They are to be sought in chambers, and their treasures are +produced box by box, from locked drawers, and bought, if at all, +without the pleasure of "beating down." They are, withal, a +gentlemanly class of men; and, of the principal one, as many stories +are told as of Beau Brummel. He has made a fortune by his shop, and +has the manners of a man who can afford to buy the jewels out of a +king's crown. + +We were sitting at the _table d'hote_, with about forty people, on the +first day of our arrival, when the servant brought us each a +gilt-edged note, sealed with an elegant device; invitations, we +presumed, to a ball, at least. Mr. So-and-so (I forget the name), +begged pardon for the liberty he had taken, and requested us to call +at his shop in the Rue de Rhone, and look at his varied assortment of +bijouterie. A card was enclosed, and the letter in courtly English. We +went, of course; as who would not? The cost to him was a sheet of +paper, and the trouble of sending to the hotel for a list of the new +arrivals. I recommend the system to all callow Yankees, commencing a +"pushing business." + +Geneva is full of foreigners in the summer, and it has quite the +complexion of an agreeable place. The environs are, of course, +unequalled, and the town itself is a stirring and gay capital, full of +brilliant shops, handsome streets and promenades, where everything is +to be met but pretty women. Female beauty would come to a good market +anywhere in Switzerland. We have seen but one pretty girl (our Niobe +of the steamer), since we lost sight of Lombardy. They dress well +here, and seem modest, and have withal an air of style; but of some +five hundred ladies, whom I may have seen in the valley of the Rhone +and about this neighborhood, it would puzzle a modern Appelles to +compose an endurable Venus. I understand a fair countryman of ours is +about taking up her residence in Geneva; and if Lake Leman does not +"woo her," and the "live thunder" leap down from Jura, the jewellers, +at least, will crown her queen of the Canton, and give her the tiara +at cost. + +I hope "Maria Wilhelmina Amelia Skeggs" will forgive me for having +gone to _Ferney_ in an _omnibus_! Voltaire lived just under the Jura, +on a hill-side, overlooking Geneva and the lake, with a landscape +before him in the foreground, that a painter could not improve, and +Mont Blanc and its neighbor mountains, the breaks to his horizon. At +six miles off, Geneva looks very beautifully, astride the exit of the +Rhone from the lake; and the lake itself looks more like a broad +river, with its edges of verdure and its outer-frame of mountains. We +walked up an avenue to a large old villa, embosomed in trees, where an +old gardener appeared, to show us the grounds. We said the proper +thing under the tree planted by the philosopher, fell in love with the +view from twenty points, met an English lady in one of the arbors, the +wife of a French nobleman to whom the house belongs, and were bowed +into the hall by the old man and handed over to his daughter to be +shown the curiosities of the interior. These were Voltaire's rooms, +just as he left them. The ridiculous picture of his own apotheosis, +painted under his own direction, and representing him offering his +Henriade to Apollo, with all the authors of his time dying of envy at +his feet, occupies the most conspicuous place over his chamber-door. +Within was his bed, the curtains nibbled quite bare by relic-gathering +travellers; a portrait of the Empress Catharine, embroidered by her +own hand, and presented to Voltaire; his own portrait and Frederick +the Great's, and many of the philosophers', including Franklin. A +little monument stands opposite the fireplace, with the inscription, +"_mon esprit est partout, et mon coeur est ici_." It is a snug +little dormitory, opening with one window to the west; and, to those +who admire the character of the once illustrious occupant, a place for +very tangible musing. They showed us afterward his walking-stick, a +pair of silk-stockings he had half worn, and a night-cap. The last +article is getting quite fashionable as a relic of genius. They show +Byron's at Venice. + + + + +LETTER LXVI. + + PRACTICAL BATHOS OF CELEBRATED PLACES--TRAVELLING COMPANIONS + AT THE SIMPLON--CUSTOM-HOUSE COMFORTS--TRIALS OF + TEMPER--CONQUERED AT LAST!--DIFFERENT ASPECTS OF FRANCE, + ITALY, AND SWITZERLAND--FORCE OF POLITENESS. + + +Whether it was that I had offended the genius of the spot, by coming +in an omnibus, or from a desire I never can resist in such places, to +travesty and ridicule the mock solemnities with which they are +exhibited, certain it is that I left Ferney, without having +encountered, even in the shape of a more serious thought, the spirit +of Voltaire. One reads the third canto of Childe Harold in his +library, and feels as if "Lausanne and Ferney" _should_ be very +interesting places to the traveller, and yet when he is shown Gibbon's +bower by a fellow scratching his head and hitching up his trousers the +while, and the nightcap that enclosed the busy brain from which sprang +the fifty brilliant _tomes_ on his shelves, by a country-girl, who +hurries through her drilled description, with her eye on the silver +_douceur_ in his fingers, he is very likely to rub his hand over his +eyes, and disclaim, quite honestly, all pretensions to enthusiasm. And +yet, I dare say, I shall have a great deal of pleasure in remembering +that I _have been_ at Ferney. As an English traveller would say, "I +have _done_ Voltaire!" + +Quite of the opinion that it was not doing justice to Geneva to have +made but a three days' stay in it, regretting not having seen Sismondi +and Simond, and a whole coterie of scholars and authors, whose home it +is, and with a mind quite made up to return to Switzerland, when my +_beaux jours_ of love, money, and leisure, shall have arrived, I +crossed the Rhone at sunrise, and turned my face toward Paris. + +The Simplon is much safer travelling than the pass of the Jura. We +were all day getting up the mountains by roads that would make me +anxious, if there were a neck in the carriage I would rather should +not be broken. My company, fortunately, consisted of three Scotch +spinsters, who would try any precipice of the Jura, I think, if there +were a lover at the bottom. If the horses had backed in the wrong +place, it would have been to all three, I am sure, a deliverance from +a world in whose volume of happiness, + + "their leaf + By some o'er-hasty angel was misplaced." + +As to my own neck and my friend's, there is a special providence for +bachelors, even if they were of importance enough to merit a care. +Spinsters and bachelors, we all arrived safely at Rousses, the +entrance to France, and here, if I were to write before repeating the +alphabet, you would see what a pen could do in a passion. + +The carriage was stopped by three custom-house officers, and taken +under a shed, where the doors were closed behind it. We were then +required to dismount and give our honors that we had nothing new in +the way of clothes; no "jewelry; no unused manufactures of wool, +thread, or lace; no silk of floss silk; no polished metals, plated or +varnished; no toys, (except a heart each); nor leather, glass, or +crystal manufactures." So far, I kept my temper. + +Our trunks, carpet-bags, hat-boxes, dressing-cases, and +_portfeuilles_, were then dismounted and critically examined--every +dress and article unfolded; shirts, cravats, unmentionables and all, +and searched thoroughly by two ruffians, whose fingers were no +improvement upon the labors of the washerwoman. In an hour's time or +so we were allowed to commence repacking. Still, I kept my temper. + +We were then requested to walk into a private room, while the ladies, +for the same purpose, were taken, by a woman, into another. Here we +were requested to unbutton our coats, and, begging pardon for the +liberty, these courteous gentlemen thrust their hands into our +pockets, felt in our bosoms, pantaloons, and shoes, examined our hats, +and even eyed our "pet curls" very earnestly, in the expectation of +finding us crammed with Geneva jewelry. Still, I kept my temper. + +Our trunks were then put upon the carriage, and a sealed string put +upon them, which we were not to cut till we arrived in Paris. (Nine +days!) They then demanded to be paid for the sealing, and the fellows +who had unladen the carriage were to be paid for their labor. This +done, we were permitted to drive on. Still, I kept my temper! + +We arrived, in the evening, at Morez, in a heavy rain. We were sitting +around a comfortable fire, and the soup and fish were just brought +upon the table. A soldier entered and requested us to walk to the +police-office. "But it rains hard, and our dinner is just ready." The +man in the mustache was inexorable. The commissary closed his office +at eight, and we must go instantly to certify to our passports, and +get new ones for the interior. Cloaks and umbrellas were brought, and, +_bon gre_, _mal gre_, we walked half a mile in the mud and rain to a +dirty commissary, who kept us waiting in the dark fifteen minutes, and +then, making out a description of the person of each, demanded half a +dollar for the new passport, and permitted us to wade back to our +dinner. This had occupied an hour, and no improvement to soup or fish. +Still, I kept my temper--rather! + +The next morning, while we were forgetting the annoyances of the +previous night, and admiring the new-pranked livery of May by a +glorious sunshine, a civil _arretez vous_ brought up the carriage to +the door of _another custom-house_! The order was to dismount, and +down came once more carpet-bags, hat-boxes, and dressing-cases, and a +couple of hours were lost again in a fruitless search for contraband +articles. When it was all through, and the officers and men _paid_ as +before, we were permitted to proceed with the gracious assurance that +we should not be troubled again till we got to Paris! I bade the +commissary good morning, felicitated him on the liberal institutions +of his country and his zeal in the exercise of his own agreeable +vocation, and--I am free to confess--lost my temper! Job and +Xantippe's husband! could I help it! + +I confess I expected better things of _France_. In Italy, where you +come to a new dukedom every half-day, you do not much mind opening +your trunks, for they are petty princes and need the pitiful revenue +of contraband articles and the officer's fee. Yet even they leave the +person of the traveller sacred; and where in the world, except in +France, is a party, travelling evidently for pleasure, subjected +_twice at the same border_ to the degrading indignity of a search! Ye +"hunters of Kentucky"--thank heaven that you can go into Tennessee +without having your "plunder" overhauled and your pockets searched by +successive parties of scoundrels, whom you are to pay "by order of the +government," for their trouble! + + * * * * * + +The Simplon, which you pass in a day, divides two nations, each +other's physical and moral antipodes. The handsome, picturesque, lazy, +unprincipled Italian, is left in the morning in his own dirty and +exorbitant inn; and, on the evening of the same day, having crossed +but a chain of mountains, you find yourself in a clean auberge, +nestled in the bosom of a Swiss valley, another language spoken around +you, and in the midst of a people, who seem to require the virtues +they possess to compensate them for more than their share of +uncomeliness. You travel a day or two down the valley of the Rhone, +and when you are become reconciled to _cretins_ and _goitres_, and +ill-dressed and worse formed men and women, you pass in another single +day the chain of the Jura, and find yourself in France--a country as +different from both Switzerland and Italy, as they are from each +other. How is it that these diminutive cantons preserve so completely +their nationality? It seems a problem to the traveller who passes from +one to the other without leaving his carriage. + +One is compelled to like France in spite of himself. You are no sooner +over the Jura than you are enslaved, past all possible ill-humor, by +the universal politeness. You stop for the night at a place, which, as +my friend remarked, resembles an inn only in its _in_-attention, and +after a bad supper, worse beds, and every kind of annoyance, down +comes my lady-hostess in the morning to receive her coin, and if you +can fly into a passion with _such_ a cap, and _such_ a smile, and +_such_ a "_bon jour_," you are of less penetrable stuff than man is +commonly made of. + +I loved Italy, but detested the Italians. I detest France, but I can +not help liking the French. "Politeness is among the virtues," says +the philosopher. Rather, it takes the place of them all. What can you +believe ill of a people whose slightest look toward you is made up of +grace and kindness. + +We are dawdling along thirty miles a day through Burgundy, sick to +death of the bare vine-stakes, and longing to see a festooned vineyard +of Lombardy. France is such an ugly country! The diligences lumber by, +noisy and ludicrous; the cow-tenders wear cocked hats; the beggars are +in the true French extreme, theatrical in all their misery; the +climate is rainy and cold, and as unlike that of Italy as if a +thousand leagues separated them, and the roads are long, straight, +dirty, and uneven. There is neither pleasure nor comfort, neither +scenery nor antiquities, nor accommodations for the weary--nothing but +_politeness_. And it is odd how it reconciles you to it all. + + + + +LETTER LXVII. + + PARIS AND LONDON--REASONS FOR LIKING PARIS--JOYOUSNESS OF ITS + CITIZENS--LAFAYETTE'S FUNERAL--ROYAL RESPECT AND + GRATITUDE--ENGLAND--DOVER--ENGLISH NEATNESS AND COMFORT, AS + DISPLAYED IN THE HOTELS, WAITERS, FIRES, BELL-ROPES, + LANDSCAPES, WINDOW-CURTAINS, TEA-KETTLES, STAGE-COACHES, + HORSES, AND EVERYTHING ELSE--SPECIMEN OF ENGLISH RESERVE--THE + GENTLEMAN DRIVER OF FASHION--A CASE FOR MRS. TROLLOPE. + + +It is pleasant to get back to Paris. One meets everybody there one +ever saw; and operas and coffee, Taglioni and Leontine Fay, the belles +and the Boulevards, the shops, spectacles, life, lions, and lures to +every species of pleasure, rather give you the impression that, +outside the barriers of Paris, time is wasted in travel. + +What pleasant idlers they look! The very shopkeepers seem standing +behind their counters for amusement. The soubrette who sells you a +cigar, or ties a crape on your arm (it was for poor old Lafayette), is +coiffed as for a ball; the _frotteur_ who takes the dust from your +boots, sings his lovesong as he brushes away, the old man has his +bouquet in his bosom, and the beggar looks up at the new statue of +Napoleon in the Place Vendome--everybody has some touch of fancy, some +trace of a heart on the look-out, at least, for pleasure. + +I was at Lafayette's funeral. They buried the old patriot like a +criminal. Fixed bayonets before and behind his hearse, his own +National Guard disarmed, and troops enough to beleaguer a city, were +the honors paid by the "citizen king" to the man who had made him! The +indignation, the scorn, the bitterness, expressed on every side among +the people, and the ill-smothered cries of disgust as the two _empty_ +royal carriages went by, in the funeral train, seemed to me strong +enough to indicate a settled and universal hostility to the +government. + +I met Dr. Bowring on the Boulevard after the funeral was over. I had +not seen him for two years, but he could talk of nothing but the great +event of the day--"You have come in time," he said, "to see how they +carried the old general to his grave! What would they say to this in +America? Well--let them go on! We shall see what will come of it? They +have buried Liberty and Lafayette together--our last hope in Europe is +quite dead with him!" + + * * * * * + +After three delightful days in Paris we took the northern diligence; +and, on the second evening, having passed hastily through Montreuil, +Abbeville, Boulogne, and voted the road the dullest couple of hundred +miles we had seen in our travels, we were set down in Calais. A stroll +through some very indifferent streets, a farewell visit to the last +French _cafe_, we were likely to see for a long time, and some +unsatisfactory inquiries about Beau Brummel, who is said to live here +still, filled up till bedtime our last day on the continent. + +The celebrated Countess of Jersey was on board the steamer, and some +forty or fifty plebeian stomachs shared with her fashionable ladyship +and ourselves the horrors of a passage across the channel. It is +rather the most disagreeable sea I ever traversed, though I _have_ +seen "the Euxine," "the roughest sea the traveller e'er ----s," etc., +according to Don Juan. + +I was lying on my back in a berth when the steamer reached her +moorings at Dover, and had neither eyes nor disposition to indulge in +the proper sentiment on approaching the "white cliffs" of my +fatherland. I crawled on deck, and was met by a wind as cold as +December, and a crowd of rosy English faces on the pier, wrapped in +cloaks and shawls, and indulging curiosity evidently at the expense of +a shiver. It was the first of June! + +My companion led the way to a hotel, and we were introduced by +_English_ waiters (I had not seen such a thing in three years, and it +was quite like being waited on by gentlemen), to two blazing coal +fires in the "coffee room" of the "Ship." Oh what a comfortable place +it appeared! A rich Turkey carpet snugly fitted, nice-rubbed mahogany +tables, the morning papers from London, bellropes that _would_ ring +the bell, doors that _would_ shut, a landlady that spoke English, and +was kind and civil; and, though there were eight or ten people in the +room, no noise above the rustle of a newspaper, and positively, rich +red damask curtains, neither second-hand nor shabby, to the windows! A +greater contrast than this to the things that answer to them on the +continent, could scarcely be imagined. + +_Malgre_ all my observations on the English, whom I have found +elsewhere the most open-hearted and social people in the world, they +are said by themselves and others to be just the contrary; and, +presuming they were different in England, I had made up my mind to +seal my lips in all public places, and be conscious of nobody's +existence but my own. There were several elderly persons dining at the +different tables; and one party, of a father and son, waited on by +their own servants in livery. Candles were brought in, the different +cloths were removed; and, as my companion had gone to bed, I took up a +newspaper to keep me company over my wine. In the course of an hour, +some remark had been addressed to me, provocative of conversation, by +almost every individual in the room! The subjects of discussion soon +became general, and I have seldom passed a more social and agreeable +evening. And so much for the first specimen of English reserve! + +The fires were burning brilliantly, and the coffee-room was in the +nicest order when we descended to our breakfast at six the next +morning. The tea-kettle sung on the hearth, the toast was hot, and +done to a turn, and the waiter was neither sleepy nor uncivil--all, +again, very unlike a morning at a hotel in _la belle_ France. + +The coach rattled up to the door punctually at the hour; and, while +they were putting on my way-worn baggage, I stood looking in +admiration at the carriage and horses. They were four beautiful bays, +in small, neat harness of glazed leather, brass-mounted, their coats +shining like a racer's, their small, blood-looking heads curbed up to +stand exactly together, and their hoofs blacked and brushed with the +polish of a gentleman's boots. The coach was gaudily painted, the only +thing out of taste about it; but it was admirably built, the +wheel-horses were quite under the coachman's box, and the whole +affair, though it would carry twelve or fourteen people, covered less +ground than a French one-horse cabriolet. It was altogether quite a +study. + +We mounted to the top of the coach; "all right," said the ostler, and +away shot the four fine creatures, turning their small ears, and +stepping together with the ease of a cat, at ten miles in the hour. +The driver was dressed like a Broadway idler, and sat in his place, +and held his "ribands" and his tandemwhip with a confident air of +superiority, as if he were quite convinced that he and his team were +beyond criticism--and so they were! I could not but smile at +contrasting his silence and the speed and ease with which we went +along, with the clumsy, cumbrous diligence or vetturino, and the +crying, whipping, cursing and ill-appointed postillions of France and +Italy. It seems odd, in a two hours' passage, to pass over such strong +lines of national difference--so near, and not even a shading of one +into the other. + +England is described always very justly, and always in the same words: +"it is all one garden." There is not a cottage between Dover and +London (seventy miles), where a poet might not be happy to live. I saw +a hundred little spots I coveted with quite a heart-ache. There was no +poverty on the road. Everybody seemed employed, and everybody +well-made and healthy. The relief from the deformity and disease of +the wayside beggars of the continent was very striking. + +We were at Canterbury before I had time to get accustomed to my seat. +The horses had been changed twice; the coach, it seemed to me, hardly +stopping while it was done; way-passengers were taken up and put down, +with their baggage, without a word, and in half a minute; money was +tossed to the keeper of the turnpike gate as we dashed through; the +wheels went over the smooth road without noise, and with scarce a +sense of motion--it was the perfection of travel. + +The new driver from Canterbury rather astonished me. He drove into +London every day, and was more of a "_swell_." He owned the first team +himself, four blood horses of great beauty, and it was a sight to see +him drive them! His language was free from all slang, and very +gentlemanlike and well chosen, and he discussed everything. He found +out that I was an American, and said we did not think enough of the +memory of Washington. Leaving his bones in the miserable brick tomb, +of which he had descriptions, was not, in his opinion, worthy of a +country like mine. He went on to criticise Julia Grisi (the new singer +just then setting London on fire), hummed airs from "_Il Pirati_," to +show her manner; sang an English song like Braham; gave a decayed +Count, who sat on the box, some very sensible advice about the +management of a wild son; drew a comparison between French and Italian +women (he had travelled); told us who the old Count was in very +tolerable French, and preferred Edmund Kean and Fanny Kemble to all +actors in the world. His taste and his philosophy, like his driving, +were quite unexceptionable. He was, withal, very handsome, and had the +easy and respectful manners of a well-bred person. It seemed very odd +to give him a shilling at the end of the journey. + +At Chatham we took up a very elegantly dressed young man, who had come +down on a fishing excursion. He was in the army, and an Irishman. We +had not been half an hour on the seat together, before he had +discovered, by so many plain questions, that I was an American, a +stranger in England, and an acquaintance of a whole regiment of his +friends in Malta and Corfu. If this had been a Yankee, thought I, what +a chapter it would have made for Basil Hall or Madame Trollope! With +all his inquisitiveness I liked my companion, and half accepted his +offer to drive me down to Epsom the next day to the races. I know no +American who would have beaten _that_ on a stage-coach acquaintance. + + + + +LETTER LXVIII. + + FIRST VIEW OF LONDON--THE KING'S BIRTHDAY--PROCESSION OF MAIL + COACHES--REGENT STREET--LADY BLESSINGTON--THE ORIGINAL + PELHAM--BULWER, THE NOVELIST--JOHN GALT--D'ISRAELI, THE AUTHOR + OF VIVIAN GREY--RECOLLECTIONS OF BYRON--INFLUENCE OF AMERICAN + OPINIONS ON ENGLISH LITERATURE. + + +LONDON.--From the top of Shooter's Hill we got our first view of +London--an indistinct, architectural mass, extending all round to the +horizon, and half enveloped in a dim and lurid smoke. "That is St. +Paul's!--there is Westminster Abbey!--there is the tower of London!" +What directions were these to follow for the first time with the eye! + +From Blackheath (seven or eight miles from the centre of London), the +beautiful hedges disappeared, and it was one continued mass of +buildings. The houses were amazingly small, a kind of thing that would +do for an object in an imitation perspective park, but the soul of +neatness pervaded them. Trelises were nailed between the little +windows, roses quite overshadowed the low doors, a painted fence +enclosed the hand's breadth of grass-plot, and very, oh, _very_ sweet +faces bent over lapfuls of work beneath the snowy and looped-up +curtains. It was all home-like and amiable. There was an +_affectionateness_ in the mere outside of every one of them. + +After crossing Waterloo Bridge, it was busy work for the eyes. The +brilliant shops, the dense crowds of people, the absorbed air of every +passenger, the lovely women, the cries, the flying vehicles of every +description, passing with the most dangerous speed--accustomed as I am +to large cities, it quite made me dizzy. We got into a "jarvey" at the +coach-office, and in half an hour I was in comfortable quarters, with +windows looking down St. James street, and the most agreeable leaf of +my life to turn over. "Great emotions interfere little with the +mechanical operations of life," however, and I dressed and dined, +though it was my first hour in London. + +I was sitting in the little parlor alone over a fried sole and a +mutton cutlet, when the waiter came in, and pleading the crowded state +of the hotel, asked my permission to spread the other side of the +table for a clergyman. I have a kindly preference for the cloth, and +made not the slightest objection. Enter a fat man, with top-boots and +a hunting-whip, rosy as Bacchus, and excessively out of breath with +mounting one flight of stairs. Beefsteak and potatoes, a pot of +porter, and a bottle of sherry followed close on his heels. With a +single apology for the intrusion, the reverend gentleman fell to, and +we ate and drank for a while in true English silence. + +"From Oxford, sir, I presume," he said at last, pushing back his +plate, with an air of satisfaction. + +"No, I had never the pleasure of seeing Oxford." + +"R--e--ally! may I take a glass of wine with you, sir?" + +We got on swimmingly. He would not believe I had never been in England +till the day before, but his cordiality was no colder for that. We +exchanged port and sherry, and a most amicable understanding found its +way down with the wine. Our table was near the window, and a great +crowd began to collect at the corner of St. James' street. It was the +king's birth-day, and the people were thronging to see the nobility +come in state from the royal _levee_. The show was less splendid than +the same thing in Rome or Vienna, but it excited far more of my +admiration. Gaudiness and tinsel were exchanged for plain richness and +perfect fitness in the carriages and harness, while the horses were +incomparably finer. My friend pointed out to me the different liveries +as they turned the corner into Piccadilly, the duke of Wellington's +among others. I looked hard to see His Grace; but the two pale and +beautiful faces on the back seat, carried nothing like the military +nose on the handles of the umbrellas. + +The annual procession of mail-coaches followed, and it was hardly less +brilliant. The drivers and guard in their bright red and gold +uniforms, the admirable horses driven so beautifully, the neat +harness, the exactness with which the room of each horse was +calculated, and the small space in which he worked, and the +compactness and contrivance of the coaches, formed altogether one of +the most interesting spectacles I have ever seen. My friend, the +clergyman, with whom I had walked out to see them pass, criticised the +different teams _con amore_, but in language which I did not always +understand. I asked him once for an explanation; but he looked rather +grave, and said something about "gammon," evidently quite sure that my +ignorance of London was a mere quiz. + +We walked down Piccadilly, and turned into, beyond all comparison, +the most handsome street I ever saw. The Toledo of Naples, the Corso +of Rome, the Kohl-market of Vienna, the Rue de la Paix and Boulevards +of Paris, have each impressed me strongly with their magnificence, but +they are really nothing to Regent-street. I had merely time to get a +glance at it before dark; but for breadth and convenience, for the +elegance and variety of the buildings, though all of the same scale +and material, and for the brilliancy and expensiveness of the shops, +it seemed to me quite absurd to compare it with anything between New +York and Constantinople--Broadway and the Hippodrome included. + +It is the custom for the king's tradesmen to illuminate their shops on +His Majesty's birth-night, and the principal streets on our return +were in a blaze of light. The crowd was immense. None but the lower +order seemed abroad, and I cannot describe to you the effect on my +feelings on hearing my language spoken by every man, woman, and child, +about me. It seemed a completely foreign country in every other +respect, different from what I had imagined, different from my own and +all that I had seen; and, coming to it last, it seemed to me the +farthest off and strangest country of all--and yet the little sweep +who went laughing through the crowd, spoke a language that I had heard +attempted in vain by thousands of educated people, and that I had +grown to consider next to unattainable by others, and almost useless +to myself. Still, it did not make me feel at home. Everything else +about me was too new. It was like some mysterious change in my own +ears--a sudden power of comprehension, such as a man might feel who +was cured suddenly of deafness. You can scarcely enter into my +feelings till you have had the changes of French, Italian, German, +Greek, Turkish, Illyrian, and the mixtures and dialects of each, rung +upon your hearing almost exclusively, as I have for years. I wandered +about as if I were exercising some supernatural faculty in a dream. + +A friend in Italy had kindly given me a letter to Lady Blessington, +and with a strong curiosity to see this celebrated lady, I called on +the second day after my arrival in London. It was "deep i' the +afternoon," but I had not yet learned the full meaning of "town +hours." "Her ladyship had not come down to breakfast." I gave the +letter and my address to the powdered footman, and had scarce reached +home when a note arrived inviting me to call the same evening at ten. + +In a long library lined alternately with splendidly bound books and +mirrors, and with a deep window of the breadth of the room, opening +upon Hyde Park, I found Lady Blessington alone. The picture to my eye +as the door opened was a very lovely one. A woman of remarkable beauty +half buried in a fauteuil of yellow satin, reading by a magnificent +lamp, suspended from the centre of the arched ceiling; sofas, couches, +ottomans, and busts, arranged in rather a crowded sumptuousness +through the room; enamel tables, covered with expensive and elegant +trifles in every corner, and a delicate white hand relieved on the +back of a book, to which the eye was attracted by the blaze of its +diamond rings. As the servant mentioned my name, she rose and gave me +her hand very cordially, and a gentleman entering immediately after, +she presented me to her son-in-law, Count D'Orsay, the well-known +Pelham of London, and certainly the most splendid specimen of a man, +and a well-dressed one that I had ever seen. Tea was brought in +immediately, and conversation went swimmingly on. + +Her ladyship's inquiries were principally about America, of which, +from long absence, I knew very little. She was extremely curious to +know the degrees of reputation the present popular authors of England +enjoy among us, particularly Bulwer, Galt, and D'Israeli (the author +of Vivian Grey.) "If you will come to-morrow night," she said, "you +will see Bulwer. I am delighted that he is popular in America. He is +envied and abused by all the literary men of London, for nothing, I +believe, except that he gets five hundred pounds for his books and +they fifty, and knowing this, he chooses to assume a pride (some +people call it puppyism), which is only the armor of a sensitive mind, +afraid of a wound. He is to his friends, the most frank and gay +creature in the world, and open to boyishness with those who he thinks +understand and value him. He has a brother Henry, who is as clever as +himself in a different vein, and is just now publishing a book on the +present state of France. Bulwer's wife, you know, is one of the most +beautiful women in London, and his house is the resort of both fashion +and talent. He is just now hard at work on a new book, the subject of +which is the last days of Pompeii. The hero is a Roman dandy, who +wastes himself in luxury, till this great catastrophe rouses him and +develops a character of the noblest capabilities. Is Galt much liked?" + +I answered to the best of my knowledge that he was not. His life of +Byron was a stab at the dead body of the noble poet, which, for one, I +never could forgive, and his books were clever, but vulgar. He was +evidently not a gentleman in his mind. This was the opinion I had +formed in America, and I had never heard another. + +"I am sorry for it," said Lady B., "for he is the dearest and best +old man in the world. I know him well. He is just on the verge of the +grave, but comes to see me now and then, and if you had known how +shockingly Byron treated him, you would only wonder at his sparing his +memory so much." + +"_Nil mortuis nisi bonum_," I thought would have been a better course. +If he had reason to dislike him, he had better not have written since +he was dead. + +"Perhaps--perhaps. But Galt has been all his life miserably poor, and +lived by his books. That must be his apology. Do you know the +D'Israeli's in America?" + +I assured her ladyship that the "Curiosities of Literature," by the +father, and "Vivian Grey and Contarini Fleming," by the son, were +universally known. + +"I am pleased at that, too, for I like them both. D'Israeli the elder, +came here with his son the other night. It would have delighted you to +see the old man's pride in him. He is very fond of him, and as he was +going away, he patted him on the head, and said to me, "take care of +him, Lady Blessington, for my sake. He is a clever lad, but he wants +ballast. I am glad he has the honor to know you, for you will check +him sometimes when I am away!" D'Israeli, the elder, lives in the +country, about twenty miles from town, and seldom comes up to London. +He is a very plain old man in his manners, as plain as his son is the +reverse. D'Israeli, the younger, is quite his own character of Vivian +Grey crowded with talent, but very _soigne_ of his curls, and a bit of +a coxcomb. There is no reserve about him, however, and he is the only +_joyous_ dandy I ever saw." + +I asked if the account I had seen in some American paper of a literary +celebration at Canandaigua, and the engraving of her ladyship's name +with some others upon a rock, was not a quiz. + +"Oh, by no means. I was equally flattered and amused by the whole +affair. I have a great idea of taking a trip to America to see it. +Then the letter, commencing 'Most charming Countess--for charming you +must be since you have written the conversations of Lord Byron'--oh, +it was quite delightful. I have shown it to everybody. By the way, I +receive a great many letters from America, from people I never heard +of, written in the most extraordinary style of compliment, apparently +in perfectly good faith. I hardly know what to make of them." + +I accounted for it by the perfect seclusion in which great numbers of +cultivated people live in our country, who having neither intrigue, +nor fashion, nor twenty other things to occupy their minds as in +England, depend entirely upon books, and consider an author who has +given them pleasure as a friend. America, I said, has probably more +literary enthusiasts than any country in the world; and there are +thousands of romantic minds in the interior of New England, who know +perfectly every writer this side the water, and hold them all in +affectionate veneration, scarcely conceivable by a sophisticated +European. If it were not for such readers, literature would be the +most thankless of vocations. I, for one, would never write another +line. + +"And do you think these are the people who write to me? If I could +think so, I should be exceedingly happy. People in England are refined +down to such heartlessness--criticism, private and public, is so +interested and so cold, that it is really delightful to know there is +a more generous tribunal. Indeed, I think all our authors now are +beginning to write for America. We think already a great deal of your +praise or censure." + +I asked if her ladyship had known many Americans. + +"Not in London, but a great many abroad. I was with Lord Blessington +in his yacht at Naples, when the American fleet was lying there, eight +or ten years ago, and we were constantly on board your ships. I knew +Commodore Creighton and Captain Deacon extremely well, and liked them +particularly. They were with us, either on board the yacht or the +frigate every evening, and I remember very well the band playing +always, "God save the King," as we went up the side. Count d'Orsay +here, who spoke very little English at that time, had a great passion +for Yankee Doodle, and it was always played at his request." + +The Count, who still speaks the language with a very slight accent, +but with a choice of words that shows him to be a man of uncommon tact +and elegance of mind, inquired after several of the officers, whom I +have not the pleasure of knowing. He seemed to remember his visits to +the frigate with great pleasure. The conversation, after running upon +a variety of topics, which I could not with propriety put into a +letter for the public eye, turned very naturally upon Byron. I had +frequently seen the Countess Guiccioli on the Continent, and I asked +Lady Blessington if she knew her. + +"No. We were at Pisa when they were living together, but, though Lord +Blessington had the greatest curiosity to see her, Byron would never +permit it. 'She has a red head of her own,' said he, 'and don't like +to show it.' Byron treated the poor creature dreadfully ill. She +feared more than she loved him." + +She had told me the same thing herself in Italy. + +It would be impossible, of course, to make a full and fair record of a +conversation of some hours. I have only noted one or two topics which +I thought most likely to interest an American reader. During all this +long visit, however, my eyes were very busy in finishing for memory, +a portrait of the celebrated and beautiful woman before me. + +The portrait of Lady Blessington in the Book of Beauty is not unlike +her, but it is still an unfavorable likeness. A picture by Sir Thomas +Lawrence hung opposite me, taken, perhaps, at the age of eighteen, +which is more like her, and as captivating a representation of a just +matured woman, full of loveliness and love, the kind of creature with +whose divine sweetness the gazer's heart aches, as ever was drawn in +the painter's most inspired hour. The original is now (she confessed +it very frankly) forty. She looks something on the sunny side of +thirty. Her person is full, but preserves all the fineness of an +admirable shape; her foot is not crowded in a satin slipper, for which +a Cinderella might long be looked for in vain, and her complexion (an +unusually fair skin, with very dark hair and eyebrows), is of even a +girlish delicacy and freshness. Her dress of blue satin (if I am +describing her like a milliner, it is because I have here and there a +reader of the Mirror in my eye who will be amused by it), was cut low +and folded across her bosom, in a way to show to advantage the round +and sculpture-like curve and whiteness of a pair of exquisite +shoulders, while her hair dressed close to her head, and parted simply +on her forehead with a rich _ferroniere_ of turquoise, enveloped in +clear outline a head with which it would be difficult to find a fault. +Her features are regular, and her mouth, the most expressive of them, +has a ripe fulness and freedom of play, peculiar to the Irish +physiognomy, and expressive of the most unsuspicious good humor. Add +to all this a voice merry and sad by turns, but always musical, and +manners of the most unpretending elegance, yet even more remarkable +for their winning kindness, and you have the most prominent traits of +one of the most lovely and fascinating women I have ever seen. +Remembering her talents and her rank, and the unenvying admiration she +receives from the world of fashion and genius, it would be difficult +to reconcile her lot to the "doctrine of compensation." + +There is one remark I may as well make here, with regard to the +personal descriptions and anecdotes with which my letters from England +will of course be filled. It is quite a different thing from +publishing such letters in London. America is much farther off from +England than England from America. You in New York read the +periodicals of this country, and know everything that is done or +written here, as if you lived within the sound of Bow-bell. The +English, however, just know of our existence, and if they get a +general idea twice a year of our progress in politics, they are +comparatively well informed. Our periodical literature is never even +heard of. Of course there can be no offence to the individuals +themselves in anything which a visitor could write, calculated to +convey an idea of the person or manners of distinguished people to the +American public. I mention it lest, at first thought, I might seem to +have abused the hospitality or frankness of those on whom letters of +introduction have given me claims for civility. + + + + +LETTER LXIX. + + THE LITERATI OF LONDON. + + +Spent my first day in London in wandering about the finest part of the +West End. It is nonsense to compare it to any other city in the world. +From the Horse-Guards to the Regent's Park alone, there is more +magnificence in architecture than in the whole of any other metropolis +in Europe, and I have seen the most and the best of them. Yet this, +though a walk of more than two miles, is but a small part even of the +fashionable extremity of London. I am not easily tired in a city; but +I walked till I could scarce lift my feet from the ground, and still +the parks and noble streets extended before and around me as far as +the eye could reach, and strange as they were in reality, the names +were as familiar to me as if my childhood had been passed among them. +"Bond Street," "Grosvenor Square," "Hyde Park," look new to my eye, +but they sound very familiar to my ear. + +The equipages of London are much talked of, but they exceed even +description. Nothing can be more perfect, or apparently more simple +than the gentleman's carriage that passes you in the street. Of a +modest color, but the finest material, the crest just visible on the +panels, the balance of the body upon its springs, true and easy, the +hammercloth and liveries of the neatest and most harmonious colors, +the harness slight and elegant, and the horses "the only splendid +thing" in the establishment--is a description that answers the most of +them. Perhaps the most perfect thing in the world, however, is a St. +James's-street stanhope or cabriolet, with its dandy owner on the +whip-seat, and the "tiger" beside him. The attitudes of both the +gentleman and the "gentleman's gentleman" are studied to a point, but +nothing could be more knowing or exquisite than either. The whole +affair, from the angle of the bell-crowned hat (the prevailing fashion +on the steps of Crockford's at present), to the blood legs of the +thorough-bred creature in harness, is absolutely faultless. I have +seen many subjects for study in my first day's stroll, but I leave the +men and women and some other less important features of London for +maturer observation. + +In the evening I kept my appointment with Lady Blessington. She had +deserted her exquisite library for the drawing-room, and sat, in +fuller dress, with six or seven gentlemen about her. I was presented +immediately to all, and when the conversation was resumed, I took the +opportunity to remark the distinguished coterie with which she was +surrounded. + +Nearest me sat _Smith_, the author of "Rejected Addresses"--a hale, +handsome man, apparently fifty, with white hair, and a very +nobly-formed head and physiognomy. His eye alone, small and with lids +contracted into an habitual look of drollery, betrayed the bent of his +genius. He held a cripple's crutch in his hand, and though otherwise +rather particularly well dressed, wore a pair of large India rubber +shoes--the penalty he was paying, doubtless, for the many good dinners +he had eaten. He played rather an _aside_ in the conversation, +whipping in with a quiz or a witticism whenever he could get an +opportunity, but more a listener than a talker. + +On the opposite side of Lady B. stood Henry Bulwer, the brother of the +novelist, very earnestly engaged in a discussion of some speech of +O'Connell's. He is said by many to be as talented as his brother, and +has lately published a book on the present state of France. He is a +small man, very slight and gentleman-like, a little pitted with the +small-pox, and of very winning and persuasive manners. I liked him at +the first glance. + +His opponent in the argument was Fonblanc, the famous editor of the +Examiner, said to be the best political writer of his day. I never saw +a much worse face--sallow, seamed and hollow, his teeth irregular, his +skin livid, his straight black hair uncombed and straggling over his +forehead--he looked as if he might be the gentleman + + Whose "coat was red, and whose breeches were blue." + +A hollow, croaking voice, and a small, fiery black eye, with a smile +like a skeleton's, certainly did not improve his physiognomy. He sat +upon his chair very awkwardly, and was very ill-dressed, but every +word he uttered, showed him to be a man of claims very superior to +exterior attractions. The soft musical voice, and elegant manner of +the one, and the satirical, sneering tone and angular gestures of the +other, were in very strong contrast. + +A German prince, with a star on his breast, trying with all his might, +but, from his embarrassed look, quite unsuccessfully, to comprehend +the drift of the argument, the Duke de Richelieu, whom I had seen at +the court of France, the inheritor of nothing but the name of his +great ancestor, a dandy and a fool, making no attempt to listen, a +famous traveller just returned from Constantinople; and the splendid +person of Count D'Orsay in a careless attitude upon the ottoman, +completed the _cordon_. + +I fell into conversation after a while with Smith, who, supposing I +might not have heard the names of the others, in the hurry of an +introduction, kindly took the trouble to play the dictionary, and +added a graphic character of each as he named him. Among other things +he talked a great deal of America, and asked me if I knew our +distinguished countryman, Washington Irving. I had never been so +fortunate as to meet him. "You have lost a great deal," he said, "for +never was so delightful a fellow. I was once taken down with him into +the country by a merchant, to dinner. Our friend stopped his carriage +at the gate of his park, and asked us if we would walk through his +grounds to the house. Irving refused and held me down by the coat, so +that we drove on to the house together, leaving our host to follow on +foot. 'I make it a principle,' said Irving, 'never to walk with a man +through his own grounds. I have no idea of praising a thing whether I +like it or not. You and I will do them to-morrow morning by +ourselves.'" The rest of the company had turned their attention to +Smith as he began his story, and there was a universal inquiry after +Mr. Irving. Indeed the first question on the lips of every one to whom +I am introduced as an American, are of him and Cooper. The latter +seems to me to be admired as much here as abroad, in spite of a common +impression that he dislikes the nation. No man's works could have +higher praise in the general conversation that followed, though +several instances were mentioned of his having shown an unconquerable +aversion to the English when in England. Lady Blessington mentioned +Mr. Bryant, and I was pleased at the immediate tribute paid to his +delightful poetry by the talented circle around her. + +Toward twelve o'clock, "Mr. Lytton Bulwer" was announced, and enter +the author of Pelham. I had made up my mind how he _should_ look, and +between prints and descriptions thought I could scarcely be mistaken +in my idea of his person. No two things could be more unlike, however, +than the ideal Mr. Bulwer in my mind and the real Mr. Bulwer who +followed the announcement. _Imprimis_, the gentleman who entered was +not handsome. I beg pardon of the boarding-schools--but he really _was +not_. The engraving of him published some time ago in America is as +much like any other man living, and gives you no idea of his head +whatever. He is short, very much bent in the back, slightly +knock-kneed, and, if my opinion in such matters goes for anything, as +ill-dressed a man for a gentleman, as you will find in London. His +figure is slight and very badly put together, and the only commendable +point in his person, as far as I could see, was the smallest foot I +ever saw a man stand upon. _Au reste_, I liked his manners extremely. +He ran up to Lady Blessington, with the joyous heartiness of a boy let +out of school; and the "how d'ye, Bulwer!" went round, as he shook +hands with everybody, in the style of welcome usually given to "the +best fellow in the world." As I had brought a letter of introduction +to him from a friend in Italy, Lady Blessington introduced me +particularly, and we had a long conversation about Naples and its +pleasant society. + +Bulwer's head is phrenologically a fine one. His forehead retreats +very much, but is very broad and well marked, and the whole air is +that of decided mental superiority. His nose is aquiline, and far too +large for proportion, though he conceals its extreme prominence by an +immense pair of red whiskers, which entirely conceal the lower part of +his face in profile. His complexion is fair, his hair profuse, curly, +and of a light auburn, his eye not remarkable, and his mouth +contradictory, I should think, of all talent. A more good-natured, +habitually-smiling, nerveless expression could hardly be imagined. +Perhaps my impression is an imperfect one, as he was in the highest +spirits, and was not serious the whole evening for a minute--but it is +strictly and faithfully _my impression_. + +I can imagine no style of conversation calculated to be more agreeable +than Bulwer's. Gay, quick, various, half-satirical, and always fresh +and different from everybody else, he seemed to talk because he could +not help it, and infected everybody with his spirits. I can not give +even the substance of it in a letter, for it was in a great measure +local or personal. A great deal of fun was made of a proposal by Lady +Blessington to take Bulwer to America and show him at so much a head. +She asked me whether I thought it would be a good speculation. I took +upon myself to assure her ladyship, that, provided she played +_showman_ the "concern," as they would phrase it in America, would be +certainly a profitable one. Bulwer said he would rather go in disguise +and hear them abuse his books. It would be pleasant, he thought, to +hear the opinions of people who judged him neither as a member of +parliament nor a dandy--simply a book-maker. Smith asked him if he +kept an amanuensis. "No," he said, "I scribble it all out myself, and +send it to the press in a most ungentlemanlike hand, half print and +half hieroglyphic, with all its imperfections on its head, and correct +in the proof--very much to the dissatisfaction of the publisher, who +sends me in a bill of sixteen pounds six shillings and fourpence for +extra corrections. Then I am free to confess I don't know grammar. +Lady Blessington, do you know grammar? I detest grammar. There never +was such a thing heard of before Lindley Murray. I wonder what they +did for grammar before his day! Oh, the delicious blunders one sees +when they are irretrievable! And the best of it is, the critics never +get hold of them. Thank Heaven for second editions, that one may +scratch out his blots, and go down clean and gentleman-like to +posterity!" Smith asked him if he had ever reviewed one of his own +books. "No--but I _could_! And then how I should like to recriminate +and defend myself indignantly! I think I could be preciously severe. +Depend upon it nobody knows a book's defects half so well as its +author. I have a great idea of criticising my works for my posthumous +memoirs. Shall I, Smith? Shall I, Lady Blessington?" + +Bulwer's voice, like his brother's, is exceedingly lover-like and +sweet. His playful tones are quite delicious, and his clear laugh is +the soul of sincere and careless merriment. + +It is quite impossible to convey in a letter scrawled literally, +between the end of a late visit and a tempting pillow, the evanescent +and pure spirit of a conversation of wits. I must confine myself, of +course, in such sketches, to the mere sentiment of things that concern +general literature and ourselves. + +"The Rejected Addresses" got upon his crutches about three o'clock in +the morning, and I made my exit with the rest, thanking Heaven, that, +though in a strange country, my mother tongue was the language of its +men of genius. + + + + +LETTER LXX. + + LONDON--VISIT TO A RACE-COURSE--GIPSIES--THE PRINCESS + VICTORIA--SPLENDID APPEARANCE OF THE ENGLISH NOBILITY--A + BREAKFAST WITH ELIA AND BRIDGET ELIA--MYSTIFICATION--CHARLES + LAMB'S OPINION OF AMERICAN AUTHORS. + + +I have just returned from _Ascot races_. Ascot Heath, on which the +course is laid out, is a high platform of land, beautifully situated +on a hill above Windsor Castle, about twenty-five miles from London. I +went down with a party of gentlemen in the morning and returned at +evening, doing the distance, with relays of horses in something less +than three hours. This, one would think, is very fair speed, but we +were passed continually by the "bloods" of the road, in comparison +with whom we seemed getting on rather at a snail's pace. + +The scenery on the way was truly English--one series of finished +landscapes, of every variety of combination. Lawns, fancy-cottages, +manor-houses, groves, roses and flower-gardens make up England. It +surfeits the eye at last. You could not drop a poet out of the clouds +upon any part of it I have seen, where, within five minutes' walk, he +would not find himself in Paradise. + +We flew past Virginia Water and through the sun-flecked shades of +Windsor Park, with the speed of the wind. On reaching the Heath, we +dashed out of the road, and cutting through fern and brier, our +experienced whip put his wheels on the rim of the course, as near the +stands as some thousands of carriages arrived before us would permit, +and then, cautioning us to take the bearings of our position, lest we +should lose him after the race, he took off his horses, and left us to +choose our own places. + +A thousand red and yellow flags were flying from as many snowy tents +in the midst of the green heath; ballad-singers and bands of music +were amusing their little audiences in every direction; splendid +markees covering gambling-tables, surrounded the winning-post; groups +of country people were busy in every bush, eating and singing, and the +great stands were piled with row upon row of human heads waiting +anxiously for the exhilarating contest. + +Soon after we arrived, the King and royal family drove up the course +with twenty carriages, and scores of postillions and outriders in red +and gold, flying over the turf as majesty flies in no other country; +and, immediately after, the bell rang to clear the course for the +race. _Such_ horses! The earth seemed to fling them off as they +touched it. The lean jockeys, in their party-colored caps and jackets, +rode the fine-limbed, slender creatures up and down together, and then +returning to the starting-post, off they shot like so many arrows from +the bow. + +_Whiz!_ you could tell neither color nor shape as they passed across +the eye. Their swiftness was incredible. A horse of Lord +Chesterfield's was rather the favorite; and for the sake of his +great-grandfather, I had backed him with my small wager, "Glaucus is +losing," said some one on the top of a carriage above me, but round +they swept again, and I could just see that one glorious creature was +doubling the leaps of every other horse, and in a moment Glaucus and +Lord Chesterfield had won. + +The course between the races is a promenade of some thousands of the +best-dressed people in England. I thought I had never seen so many +handsome men and women, but particularly _men_. The nobility of this +country, unlike every other, is by far the manliest and finest looking +class of its population. The _contadini_ of Rome, the _lazzaroni_ of +Naples, the _paysans_ of France, are incomparably more handsome than +their superiors in rank, but it is strikingly different here. A set of +more elegant and well-proportioned men than those pointed out to me by +my friends as the noblemen on the course, I never saw, except only in +Greece. The Albanians are seraphs to look at. + +Excitement is hungry, and, after the first race, our party produced +their baskets and bottles, and spreading out the cold pie and +champaign upon the grass, between the wheels of the carriages, we +drank Lord Chesterfield's health and ate for our own, in an _al +fresco_ style worthy of Italy. Two veritable Bohemians, brown, +black-eyed gipsies, the models of those I had seen in their wicker +tents in Asia, profited by the liberality of the hour, and came in for +an upper crust to a pigeon pie, that, to tell the truth, they seemed +to appreciate. + +Race followed race, but I am not a contributor to the Sporting +Magazine, and could not give you their merits in comprehensible terms +if I were. + +In one of the intervals, I walked under the King's stand, and saw Her +Majesty, the Queen, and the young Princess Victoria, very distinctly. +They were listening to a ballad-singer, and leaning over the front of +the box with an amused attention, quite as sincere, apparently, as any +beggar's in the ring. The Queen is the plainest woman in her +dominions, beyond a doubt. The Princess is much better-looking than +the pictures of her in the shops, and, for the heir to such a crown as +that of England, quite unnecessarily pretty and interesting. She will +be sold, poor thing--bartered away by those great dealers in royal +hearts, whose grand calculations will not be much consolation to her, +if she happens to have a taste of her own. + + * * * * * + +[The following sketch was written a short time previous to the death +of Charles Lamb.] + + Invited to breakfast with a gentleman in the temple to meet + Charles Lamb and his sister--"Elia and Bridget Elia." I never + in my life had an invitation more to my taste. The essays of + Elia are certainly the most charming things in the world, and + it has been for the last ten years, my highest compliment to + the literary taste of a friend to present him with a copy. Who + has not smiled over the humorous description of Mrs. Battle? + Who that has read Elia would not give more to see him than all + the other authors of his time put together? + + Our host was rather a character. I had brought a letter of + introduction to him from Walter Savage Landor, the author of + Imaginary Conversations, living at Florence, with a request + that he would put me in the way of seeing one or two men about + whom I had a curiosity, Lamb more particularly. I could not + have been recommended to a better person. Mr. R. is a + gentleman who, everybody says, _should have been_ an author, + but who never wrote a book. He is a profound German scholar, + has travelled much, is the intimate friend of Southey, + Coleridge, and Lamb, has breakfasted with Goethe, travelled + with Wordsworth through France and Italy, and spends part of + every summer with him, and knows everything and everybody that + is distinguished--in short, is, in his bachelor's chambers in + the temple, the friendly nucleus of a great part of the talent + of England. + + I arrived a half hour before Lamb, and had time to learn some + of his peculiarities. He lives a little out of London, and is + very much of an invalid. Some family circumstances have tended + to depress him very much of late years, and unless excited by + convivial intercourse, he scarce shows a trace of what he was. + He was very much pleased with the American reprint of his + Elia, though it contains several things which are not + his--written so in his style, however, that it is scarce a + wonder the editor should mistake them. If I remember right, + they were "Valentine's Day," the "Nuns of Caverswell," and + "Twelfth Night." He is excessively given to mystifying his + friends, and is never so delighted as when he has persuaded + some one into the belief of one of his grave inventions. His + amusing biographical sketch of Liston was in this vein, and + there was no doubt in anybody's mind that it was authentic, + and written in perfectly good faith. Liston was highly enraged + with it, and Lamb was delighted in proportion. + + There was a rap at the door at last, and enter a gentleman in + black small-clothes and gaiters, short and very slight in his + person, his head set on his shoulders with a thoughtful, + forward bent, his hair just sprinkled with gray, a beautiful, + deep-set eye, aquiline nose, and a very indescribable mouth. + Whether it expressed most humor or feeling, good nature or a + kind of whimsical peevishness, or twenty other things which + passed over it by turns, I can not in the least be certain. + + His sister, whose literary reputation is associated very + closely with her brother's, and who, as the original of + "Bridget Elia," is a kind of object for literary affection, + came in after him. She is a small, bent figure, evidently a + victim to illness, and hears with difficulty. Her face has + been, I should think, a fine and handsome one, and her bright + gray eye is still full of intelligence and fire. They both + seemed quite at home in our friend's chambers, and as there + was to be no one else, we immediately drew round the breakfast + table. I had set a large arm chair for Miss Lamb. "Don't take + it, Mary," said Lamb, pulling it away from her very gravely, + "it appears as if you were going to have a tooth drawn." + + The conversation was very local. Our host and his guest had + not met for some weeks, and they had a great deal to say of + their mutual friends. Perhaps in this way, however, I saw more + of the author, for his manner of speaking of them and the + quaint humor with which he complained of one, and spoke well + of another was so in the vein of his inimitable writings, that + I could have fancied myself listening to an audible + composition of a new Elia. Nothing could be more delightful + than the kindness and affection between the brother and the + sister, though Lamb was continually taking advantage of her + deafness to mystify her with the most singular gravity upon + every topic that was started. "Poor Mary!" said he, "she hears + all of an epigram but the point." "What are you saying of me, + Charles?" she asked. "Mr. Willis," said he, raising his voice, + "admires _your Confessions of a Drunkard_ very much, and I was + saying that it was no merit of yours, that you understood the + subject." We had been speaking of this admirable essay (which + is his own), half an hour before. + + The conversation turned upon literature after a while, and our + host, the templar, could not express himself strongly enough + in admiration of Webster's speeches, which he said were + exciting the greatest attention among the politicians and + lawyers of England. Lamb said, "I don't know much of American + authors. Mary, there, devours Cooper's novels with a ravenous + appetite, with which I have no sympathy. The only American + book I ever read twice, was the 'Journal of Edward Woolman,' a + quaker preacher and tailor, whose character is one of the + finest I ever met with. He tells a story or two about negro + slaves that brought the tears into my eyes. I can read no + prose now, though Hazlitt sometimes, to be sure--but then + Hazlitt is worth all modern prose writers put together." + + Mr. R. spoke of buying a book of Lamb's, a few days before, + and I mentioned my having bought a copy of Elia the last day I + was in America, to send as a parting gift to one of the most + lovely and talented women in our country. + + "What did you give for it?" said Lamb. + + "About seven and sixpence." + + "Permit me to pay you that," said he, and with the utmost + earnestness he counted out the money upon the table. + + "I never yet wrote anything that would sell," he continued. "I + am the publisher's ruin. My last poem won't sell a copy. Have + you seen it, Mr. Willis?" + + I had not. + + "It's only eighteen pence, and I'll give you sixpence toward + it;" and he described to me where I should find it sticking up + in a shop-window in the Strand. + + Lamb ate nothing, and complained in a querulous tone of the + veal pie. There was a kind of potted fish (of which I forget + the name at this moment), which he had expected our friend + would procure for him. He inquired whether there was not a + morsel left perhaps in the bottom of the last pot. Mr. R. was + not sure. + + "Send and see," said Lamb, "and if the pot has been cleaned, + bring me the cover. I think the sight of it would do me good." + + The cover was brought, upon which there was a picture of the + fish. Lamb kissed it with a reproachful look at his friend, + and then left the table and began to wander round the room + with a broken, uncertain step, as if he almost forgot to put + one leg before the other. His sister rose after a while, and + commenced walking up and down, very much in the same manner, + on the opposite side of the table, and in the course of half + an hour they took their leave. + + To any one who loves the writings of Charles Lamb with but + half my own enthusiasm, even these little particulars of an + hour passed in his company, will have an interest. To him who + does not, they will seem dull and idle. Wreck as he certainly + is, and must be, however, of what he was, I would rather have + seen him for that single hour, than the hundred and one sights + of London put together. + + + + +LETTER LXXI. + + DINNER AT LADY BLESSINGTON'S--BULWER, D'ISRAELI, PROCTER, + FONBLANC, ETC.--ECCENTRICITIES OF BECKFORD, AUTHOR OF + VATHEK--D'ISRAELI'S EXTRAORDINARY TALENT AT DESCRIPTION. + + +Dined at Lady Blessington's, in company with several authors, three or +four noblemen, and a clever exquisite or two. The authors were Bulwer, +the novelist, and his brother, the statist; Procter (better known as +Barry Cornwall), D'Israeli, the author of Vivian Grey; and Fonblanc, +of the Examiner. The principal nobleman was Lord Durham, and the +principal exquisite (though the word scarce applies to the magnificent +scale on which nature has made him, and on which he makes himself), +was Count D'Orsay. There were plates for twelve. + +I had never seen Procter, and, with my passionate love for his poetry, +he was the person at table of the most interest to me. He came late, +and as twilight was just darkening the drawing-room, I could only see +that a small man followed the announcement, with a remarkably timid +manner, and a very white forehead. + +D'Israeli had arrived before me, and sat in the deep window, looking +out upon Hyde Park, with the last rays of daylight reflected from the +gorgeous gold flowers of a splendidly embroidered waistcoat. Patent +leather pumps, a white stick, with a black cord and tassel, and a +quantity of chains about his neck and pockets, served to make him, +even in the dim light, rather a conspicuous object. + +Bulwer was very badly dressed, as usual, and wore a flashy waistcoat +of the same description as D'Israeli's. Count D'Orsay was very +splendid, but very undefinable. He seemed showily dressed till you +looked to particulars, and then it seemed only a simple thing, well +fitted to a very magnificent person. Lord Albert Conyngham was a dandy +of common materials; and my Lord Durham, though he looked a young man, +if he passed for a lord at all in America, would pass for a very +ill-dressed one. + +For Lady Blessington, she is one of the most handsome, and, quite the +best-dressed woman in London; and, without farther description, I +trust the readers of the Mirror will have little difficulty in +imagining a scene that, taking a wild American into the account, was +made up of rather various material. + +The blaze of lamps on the dinner table was very favorable to my +curiosity, and as Procter and D'Israeli sat directly opposite me, I +studied their faces to advantage. Barry Cornwall's forehead and eye +are all that would strike you in his features. His brows are heavy; +and his eye, deeply sunk, has a quick, restless fire, that would have +arrested my attention, I think, had I not known he was a poet. His +voice has the huskiness and elevation of a man more accustomed to +think than converse, and it was never heard except to give a brief and +very condensed opinion, or an illustration, admirably to the point, of +the subject under discussion. He evidently felt that he was only an +observer in the party. + +D'Israeli has one of the most remarkable faces I ever saw. He is +lividly pale, and but for the energy of his action and the strength of +his lungs, would seem a victim to consumption. His eye is black as +Erebus, and has the most mocking and lying-in-wait sort of expression +conceivable. His mouth is alive with a kind of working and impatient +nervousness, and when he has burst forth, as he does constantly, with +a particularly successful cataract of expression, it assumes a curl of +triumphant scorn that would be worthy of a Mephistopheles. His hair is +as extraordinary as his taste in waistcoats. A thick heavy mass of jet +black ringlets falls over his left cheek almost to his collarless +stock, while on the right temple it is parted and put away with the +smooth carefulness of a girl's, and shines most unctiously, + + "With thy incomparable oil, Macassar!" + +The anxieties of the first course, as usual, kept every mouth occupied +for a while, and then the dandies led off with a discussion of Count +D'Orsay's rifle match (he is the best rifle-shot in England), and +various matters as uninteresting to transatlantic readers. The new +poem, Philip Van Artevald's, came up after a while, and was very much +over-praised (_me judice_). Bulwer said, that as the author was the +principle writer for the Quarterly Review, it was a pity it was first +praised in that periodical, and praised so unqualifiedly. Procter said +nothing about it, and I respected his silence; for, as a poet, he must +have felt the poverty of the poem, and was probably unwilling to +attack a new aspirant in his laurels. + +The next book discussed was Beckford's Italy, or rather the next +author, for the _writer_ of Vathek is more original, and more talked +of than his books, and just now occupies much of the attention of +London. Mr. Beckford has been all his life enormously rich, has +luxuriated in every country with the fancy of a poet, and the refined +splendor of a Sybarite, was the admiration of Lord Byron, who visited +him at Cintra, was the owner of Fonthill, and, _plus fort encore_, his +is one of the oldest families in England. What could such a man +attempt that would not be considered extraordinary! + +D'Israeli was the only one at table who knew him, and the style in +which he gave a sketch of his habits and manners, was worthy of +himself. I might as well attempt to gather up the foam of the sea, as +to convey an idea of the extraordinary language in which he clothed +his description. There were, at least, five words in every sentence +that must have been very much astonished at the use they were put to, +and yet no others apparently, could so well have conveyed his idea. He +talked like a race-horse approaching the winning-post, every muscle in +action, and the utmost energy of expression flung out in every burst. +It is a great pity he is not in parliament.[11] + +The particulars he gave of Beckford, though stripped of his gorgeous +digressions and parentheses, may be interesting. He lives now at Bath, +where he has built a house on two sides of the street, connected by a +covered bridge _a la Ponte de Sospiri_, at Venice. His servants live +on one side, and he and his sole companion on the other. This +companion is a hideous dwarf, who imagines himself, or is, a Spanish +duke; and Mr. Beckford for many years has supported him in a style +befitting his rank, treats him with all the deference due to his +title, and has, in general, no other society (I should not wonder, +myself, if it turned out to be a woman); neither of them is often +seen, and when in London, Mr. Beckford is only to be approached +through his man of business. If you call, he is not at home. If you +would leave a card or address him a note, his servant has strict +orders not to take in anything of the kind. At Bath, he has built a +high tower, which is a great mystery to the inhabitants. Around the +interior, to the very top, it is lined with books, approachable with a +light spiral staircase; and in the pavement below, the owner has +constructed a double crypt for his own body, and that of his dwarf +companion, intending, with a desire for human neighborhood which has +not appeared in his life, to leave the library to the city, that all +who enjoy it shall pass over the bodies below. + +Mr. Beckford thinks very highly of his own books, and talks of his +early production (Vathek), in terms of unbounded admiration. He speaks +slightingly of Byron, and of his praise, and affects to despise +utterly the popular taste. It appeared altogether, from D'Israeli's +account, that he is a splendid egotist, determined to free life as +much as possible from its usual fetters, and to enjoy it to the +highest degree of which his genius, backed by an immense fortune, is +capable. He is reputed, however, to be excessively liberal, and to +exercise his ingenuity to contrive secret charities in his +neighborhood. + +Victor Hugo and his extraordinary novels came next under discussion; +and D'Israeli, who was fired with his own eloquence, started off, +_apropos des bottes_, with a long story of an empalement he had seen +in Upper Egypt. It was as good, and perhaps as authentic, as the +description of the chow-chow-tow in Vivian Grey. He had arrived at +Cairo on the third day after the man was transfixed by two stakes +from hip to shoulder, and he was still alive! The circumstantiality of +the account was equally horrible and amusing. Then followed the +sufferer's history, with a score of murders and barbarities, heaped +together like Martin's Feast of Belshazzer, with a mixture of horror +and splendor, that was unparalleled in my experience of improvisation. +No mystic priest of the Corybantes could have worked himself up into a +finer phrensy of language. + +Count D'Orsay kept up, through the whole of the conversation and +narration, a running fire of witty parentheses, half French and half +English; and with champaign in all the pauses, the hours flew on very +dashingly. Lady Blessington left us toward midnight, and then the +conversation took a rather political turn, and something was said of +O'Connell. D'Israeli's lips were playing upon the edge of a champaign +glass, which he had just drained, and off he shot again with a +description of an interview he had had with the agitator the day +before, ending in a story of an Irish dragoon who was killed in the +peninsula. His name was Sarsfield. His arm was shot off, and he was +bleeding to death. When told that he could not live, he called for a +large silver goblet, out of which he usually drank his claret. He held +it to the gushing artery and filled it to the brim with blood, looked +at it a moment, turned it out slowly upon the ground, muttering to +himself, "If that had been shed for old Ireland!" and expired. You can +have no idea how thrillingly this little story was told. Fonblanc, +however, who is a cold political satirist, could see nothing in a +man's "decanting his claret," that was in the least sublime, and so +Vivian Grey got into a passion, and for a while was silent. + +Bulwer asked me if there was any distinguished literary American in +town. I said, Mr. Slidell one of our best writers, was here. + +"Because," said he, "I received, a week or more ago, a letter of +introduction by some one from Washington Irving. It lay on the table, +when a lady came in to call on my wife, who seized upon it as an +autograph, and immediately left town, leaving me with neither name nor +address." + +There was a general laugh and a cry of "Pelham! Pelham!" as he +finished his story. Nobody chose to believe it. + +"I think the name _was_ Slidell," said Bulwer. + +"Slidell!" said D'Israeli, "I owe him two-pence, by Jove!" and he went +on in his dashing way to narrate that he had sat next Mr. Slidell at a +bull-fight in Seville, that he wanted to buy a fan to keep off the +flies, and having nothing but doubloons in his pocket, Mr. S. had lent +him a small Spanish coin to that value, which he owed him to this day. + +There was another general laugh, and it was agreed that on the whole +the Americans were "_done_." + +Apropos to this, D'Israeli gave us a description in a gorgeous, +burlesque, galloping style, of a Spanish bull-fight; and when we were +nearly dead with laughing at it, some one made a move, and we went up +to Lady Blessington in the drawing-room. Lord Durham requested her +ladyship to introduce him, particularly, to D'Israeli (the effect of +his eloquence). I sat down in the corner with Sir Martin Shee, the +president of the Royal Academy, and had a long talk about Allston and +Harding and Cole, whose pictures he knew; and "somewhere in the small +hours," we took our leave, and Procter left me at my door in Cavendish +street weary, but in a better humor with the world than usual. + + +FOOTNOTE: + +[11] I have been told that he stood once for a London borough. A +coarse fellow came up at the hustings, and said to him, "I should like +to know on what ground you stand here, sir?" "On my head, sir!" +answered D'Israeli. The populace had not read Vivian Grey, however, +and he lost his election. + + + + +LETTER LXXII. + + THE ITALIAN OPERA--MADEMOISELLE GRISI--A GLANCE AT LORD + BROUGHAM--MRS. NORTON AND LORD SEFTON--RAND, THE AMERICAN + PORTRAIT PAINTER--AN EVENING PARTY AT BULWER'S--PALMY STATE OF + LITERATURE IN MODERN DAYS--FASHIONABLE NEGLECT OF FEMALES-- + PERSONAGES PRESENT--SHIEL THE ORATOR, THE PRINCE OF MOSCOWA, + MRS. LEICESTER STANHOPE, THE CELEBRATED BEAUTY, ETC., ETC. + + +Went to the opera to hear Julia Grisi. I stood out the first act in +the pit, and saw instances of rudeness in "Fop's-alley," which I had +never seen approached in three years on the continent. The high price +of tickets, one would think, and the necessity of appearing in full +dress, would keep the opera clear of low-bred people; but the conduct +to which I refer seemed to excite no surprise and passed off without +notice, though, in America, there would have been ample matter for at +least, four duels. + +Grisi is young, very pretty, and an admirable actress--three great +advantages to a singer. Her voice is under absolute command, and she +manages it beautifully, but it wants the infusion of Malibran. You +merely feel that Grisi is an accomplished artist, while Malibran melts +all your criticism into love and admiration. I am easily moved by +music, but I came away without much enthusiasm for the present passion +of London. + +The opera-house is very different from those on the continent. The +stage only is lighted abroad, the single lustre from the ceiling just +throwing that _clair obscure_ over the boxes, so favorable to Italian +complexions and morals. Here, the dress circles are lighted with +bright chandeliers, and the whole house sits in such a blaze of light +as leaves no approach even, to a lady, unseen. The consequence is that +people here dress much more, and the opera, if less interesting to the +_habitue_, is a gayer thing to the many. + +I went up to Lady Blessington's box for a moment, and found +Strangways, the traveller, and several other distinguished men with +her. Her ladyship pointed out to me Lord Brougham, flirting +desperately with a pretty woman on the opposite side of the house, his +mouth going with the convulsive twitch which so disfigures him, and +his most unsightly of pug-noses in the strongest relief against the +red lining behind. There never was a plainer man. The Honorable Mrs. +Norton, Sheridan's daughter, and poetess, sat nearer to us, looking +like a queen, certainly one of the most beautiful women I ever looked +upon; and the gastronomic and humpbacked Lord Sefton, said to be the +best judge of cookery in the world, sat in the "dandy's omnibus," a +large box on a level with the stage, leaning forward with his chin on +his knuckles, and waiting with evident impatience for the appearance +of Fanny Elssler in the _ballet_. Beauty and all, the English +opera-house surpasses anything I have seen in the way of a spectacle. + +An evening party at Bulwer's. Not yet perfectly initiated in London +hours, I arrived, not far from eleven, and found Mrs. Bulwer alone in +her illuminated rooms, whiling away an expectant hour in playing with +a King Charles spaniel, that seemed by his fondness and delight to +appreciate the excessive loveliness of his mistress. As far off as +America, I may express, even in print, an admiration which is no +heresy in London. + +The author of Pelham is a younger son and depends on his writings for +a livelihood, and truly, measuring works of fancy by what they will +bring, (not an unfair standard perhaps), a glance around his luxurious +and elegant rooms is worth reams of puff in the quarterlies. He lives +in the heart of the fashionable quarter of London, where rents are +ruinously extravagant, entertains a great deal, and is expensive in +all his habits, and for this pay Messrs. Clifford, Pelham, and +Aram--(it would seem), most excellent good bankers. As I looked at the +beautiful woman seated on the costly ottoman before me, waiting to +receive the rank and fashion of London, I thought that old +close-fisted literature never had better reason for his partial +largess. I half forgave the miser for starving a wilderness of poets. + +One of the first persons who came was Lord Byron's sister, a thin, +plain, middle-aged woman, of a very serious countenance, and with very +cordial and pleasing manners. The rooms soon filled, and two professed +singers went industriously to work in their vocation at the piano; +but, except one pale man, with staring hair, whom I took to be a poet, +nobody pretended to listen. + +Every second woman has some strong claim to beauty in England, and the +proportion of those who just miss it, by a hair's breadth as it +were--who seem really to have been meant for beauties by nature, but +by a slip in the moulding or pencilling are imperfect copies of the +design--is really extraordinary. One after another entered, as I stood +near the door with my old friend Dr. Bowring for a nomenclator, and +the word "lovely" or "charming," had not passed my lips before some +change in the attitude, or unguarded animation had exposed the flaw, +and the hasty homage (for homage it is, and an idolatrous one, that we +pay to the beauty of woman), was coldly and unsparingly retracted. +From a goddess upon earth to a slighted and unattractive trap for +matrimony is a long step, but taken on so slight a defect sometimes, +as, were they marble, a sculptor would etch away with his nail. + +I was surprised (and I have been struck with the same thing at several +parties I have attended in London), at the neglect with which the +female part of the assemblage is treated. No young man ever seems to +dream of speaking to a lady, except to ask her to dance. There they +sit with their mamas, their hands hung over each other before them in +the received attitude; and if there happens to be no dancing (as at +Bulwer's), looking at a print, or eating an ice, is for them the most +enlivening circumstance of the evening. As well as I recollect, it is +better managed in America, and certainly society is quite another +thing in France and Italy. Late in the evening a charming girl, who is +the reigning belle of Naples, came in with her mother from the opera, +and I made the remark to her. "I detest England for that very reason," +she said frankly. "It is the fashion in London for the young men to +prefer everything to the society of women. They have their clubs, +their horses, their rowing matches, their hunting and betting, and +everything else is a _bore_! How different are the same men at Naples! +They can never get enough of one there! We are surrounded and run +after, + + "'Our poodle dog is quite adored, + Our sayings are extremely quoted,' + +"and really, one feels that one _is_ a belle." She mentioned several +of the beaux of last winter who had returned to England. "Here I have +been in London a month, and these very men that were dying for me, at +my side every day on the _Strada Nuova_, and all but fighting to dance +three times with me of an evening, have only left their cards! Not +because they care less about me, but because it is 'not the +fashion'--it would be talked of at the club, it is 'knowing' to let us +alone." + +There were only three men in the party, which was a very crowded one, +who could come under the head of _beaux_. Of the remaining part, there +was much that was distinguished, both for rank and talent. Sheil, the +Irish orator, a small, dark, deceitful, but talented-looking man, with +a very disagreeable squeaking voice, stood in a corner, very earnestly +engaged in conversation with the aristocratic old Earl of Clarendon. +The contrast between the styles of the two men, the courtly and mild +elegance of one, and the uneasy and half-bred, but shrewd earnestness +of the other, was quite a study. Fonblanc of the Examiner, with his +pale and dislocated-looking face, stood in the door-way between the +two rooms, making the amiable with a ghastly smile to Lady Stepney. +The 'bilious Lord Durham,' as the papers call him, with his Brutus +head, and grave, severe countenance, high-bred in his appearance, +despite the worst possible coat and trowsers, stood at the pedestal of +a beautiful statue, talking politics with Bowring; and near them, +leaned over a chair the Prince Moscowa, the son of Marshal Ney, a +plain, but determined-looking young man, with his coat buttoned up to +his throat, unconscious of everything but the presence of the +Honorable Mrs. Leicester Stanhope, a very lovely woman, who was +enlightening him in the prettiest English French, upon some point of +national differences. Her husband, famous as Lord Byron's companion in +Greece, and a great liberal in England, was introduced to me soon +after by Bulwer; and we discussed the Bank and the President, with a +little assistance from Bowring, who joined us with a paean for the old +general and his measures, till it was far into the morning. + + + + +LETTER LXXIII. + + BREAKFAST WITH BARRY CORNWALL--LUXURY OF THE FOLLOWERS OF THE + MODERN MUSE--BEAUTY OF THE DRAMATIC SKETCHES GAINS PROCTOR A + WIFE--HAZLITT'S EXTRAORDINARY TASTE FOR THE PICTURESQUE IN + WOMEN--COLERIDGE'S OPINION OF CORNWALL. + + +Breakfasted with Mr. Procter (known better as Barry Cornwall). I gave +a partial description of this most delightful of poets in a former +letter. In the dazzling circle of rank and talent with which he was +surrounded at Lady Blessington's, however, it was difficult to see so +shrinkingly modest a man to advantage, and with the exception of the +keen gray eye, living with thought and feeling, I should hardly have +recognised him, at home, for the same person. + +Mr. Procter is a barrister; and his "whereabout" is more like that of +a lord chancellor than a poet proper. With the address he had given me +at parting, I drove to a large house in Bedford square; and, not +accustomed to find the children of the Muses waited on by servants in +livery, I made up my mind as I walked up the broad staircase, that I +was blundering upon some Mr. Procter of the exchange, whose respect +for his poetical namesake, I hoped would smooth my apology for the +intrusion. Buried in a deep morocco chair, in a large library, +notwithstanding, I found the poet himself--choice old pictures, +filling every nook between the book-shelves, tables covered with +novels and annuals, rolls of prints, busts and drawings in all +corners; and, more important for the nonce, a breakfast table at the +poet's elbow, spicily set forth, not with flowers or ambrosia, the +canonical food of rhymers, but with cold ham and ducks, hot rolls and +butter, coffee-pot and tea-urn--as sensible a breakfast, in short, as +the most unpoetical of men could desire. + +Procter is indebted to his poetry for a very charming wife, the +daughter of Basil Montague, well known as a collector of choice +literature, and the friend and patron of literary men. The exquisite +beauty of the Dramatic Sketches interested this lovely woman in his +favor before she knew him, and, far from worldly-wise as an attachment +so grounded would seem, I never saw two people with a more habitual +air of happiness. I thought of his touching song, + + "How many summers, love, + Hast thou been mine?" + +and looked at them with an inexpressible feeling of envy. A beautiful +girl, of eight or nine years, the "golden-tressed Adelaide," delicate, +gentle and pensive, as if she was born on the lip of Castaly, and knew +she was a poet's child, completed the picture of happiness. + +The conversation ran upon various authors, whom Procter had known +intimately--Hazlitt, Charles Lamb, Keats, Shelley, and others, and of +all he gave me interesting particulars, which I could not well repeat +in a public letter. The account of Hazlitt's death-bed, which appeared +in one of the magazines, he said was wholly untrue. This extraordinary +writer was the most reckless of men in money matters, but he had a +host of admiring friends who knew his character, and were always ready +to assist him. He was a great admirer of the picturesque in women. He +was one evening at the theatre with Procter, and pointed out to him an +Amazonian female, strangely dressed in black velvet and lace, but with +no beauty that would please an ordinary eye. "Look at her!" said +Hazlitt, "isn't she fine!--isn't she magnificent? Did you ever see +anything more Titianesque?"[12] + +After breakfast, Procter took me into a small closet adjoining his +library, in which he usually writes. There was just room enough in it +for a desk and two chairs, and around were piled in true poetical +confusion, his favorite books, miniature likenesses of authors, +manuscripts, and all the interesting lumber of a true poet's corner. +From a drawer, very much thrust out of the way, he drew a volume of +his own, into which he proceeded to write my name--a collection of +songs, published since I have been in Europe, which I had never seen. +I seized upon a worn copy of the Dramatic Sketches, which I found +crossed and interlined in every direction. "Don't look at them," said +Procter, "they are wretched things, which should never have been +printed, or at least with a world of correction. You see how I have +mended them; and, some day, perhaps, I will publish a corrected +edition, since I can not get them back." He took the book from my +hand, and opened to "The Broken Heart," certainly the most +highly-finished and exquisite piece of pathos in the language, and +read it to me with his alterations. It was to "gild refined gold, and +paint the lily." I would recommend to the lovers of Barry Cornwall, to +keep their original copy, beautifully as he has polished his lines +anew. + +On a blank leaf of the same copy of the Dramatic Sketches, I found +some indistinct writing in pencil, "Oh! don't read that," said +Procter, "the book was given me some years ago, by a friend at whose +house Coleridge had been staying, for the sake of the criticisms that +great man did me the honor to write at the end." I insisted on reading +them, however, and his wife calling him out presently, I succeeded in +copying them in his absence. He seemed a little annoyed, but on my +promising to make no use of them in England, he allowed me to retain +them. They are as follows: + + "Barry Cornwall is a poet, _me saltem judice_, and in that + sense of the word, in which I apply it to Charles Lamb and W. + Wordsworth. There are poems of great merit, the authors of + which, I should not yet feel impelled so to designate. + + "The faults of these poems are no less things of hope than the + beauties. Both are just what they ought to be: i. e. _now_. + + "If B. C. be faithful to his genius, it in due time will warn + him that as poetry is the identity of all other knowledge, so + a poet can not be a great poet, but as being likewise and + inclusively an historian and a naturalist in the light as well + as the life of philosophy. All other men's worlds are his + chaos. + + "Hints--Not to permit delicacy and exquisiteness to seduce + into effeminacy. + + "Not to permit beauties by repetition to become mannerism. + + "To be jealous of fragmentary composition as epicurism of + genius--apple-pie made all of quinces. + + "Item. That dramatic poetry must be poetry hid in thought and + passion, not thought or passion hid in the dregs of poetry. + + "Lastly, to be economic and withholding in similes, figures, + etc. They will all find their place sooner or later, each in + the luminary of a sphere of its own. There can be no galaxy in + poetry, because it is language, _ergo_, successive, _ergo_ + every the smallest star must be seen singly. + + "There are not five metrists in the kingdom whose works are + known by me, to whom I could have held myself allowed to speak + so plainly; but B. C. is a man of genius, and it depends on + himself (_competence protecting him from gnawing and + distracting cares_), to become a rightful poet--i. e. a great + man. + + "Oh, for such a man; worldly prudence is transfigured into the + high spiritual duty. How generous is self-interest in him, + whose true self is all that is good and hopeful in all ages as + far as the language of Spenser, Shakspeare, and Milton, is the + mother tongue. + + "A map of the road to Paradise, drawn in Purgatory on the + confines of Hell, by S. T. C. July 30, 1819." + +I took my leave of this true poet after half a day passed in his +company, with the impression that he makes upon every one--of a man +whose sincerity and kind-heartedness were the most prominent traits in +his character. Simple in his language and feelings, a fond father, an +affectionate husband, businessman of the closest habits of +industry--one reads his strange imaginations, and passionate, +high-wrought, and even sublimated poetry, and is in doubt at which +most to wonder--the man as he is, or the poet as we know him in his +books. + + +FOOTNOTE: + +[12] The following story has been told me by another gentleman. +Hazlitt was married to an amiable woman, and divorced after a few +years, at his own request. He left London, and returned with another +wife. The first thing he did, was to send to his first wife to borrow +five pounds! She had not so much in the world, but she sent to a +friend (the gentleman who told me the story), borrowed it, and sent it +to him! It seems to me there is a whole drama in this single fact. + + + + +LETTER LXXIV. + + AN EVENING AT LADY BLESSINGTON'S--ANECDOTES OF MOORE, THE + POET--TAYLOR, THE PLATONIST--POLITICS--ELECTION OF + SPEAKER--PRICES OF BOOKS. + + +I am obliged to "gazette" Lady Blessington rather more than I should +wish, and more than may seem delicate to those, who do not know the +central position she occupies in the circle of talent in London. Her +soirees and dinner-parties, however, are literally the single and only +assemblages of men of genius, without reference to party--the only +attempt at a republic of letters in the world of this great, envious, +and gifted metropolis. The pictures of literary life, in which my +countrymen would be most interested, therefore, are found within a +very small compass, presuming them to prefer the brighter side of an +eminent character, and presuming them (_is_ it a presumption?), not to +possess that appetite for degrading the author to the man, by an +anatomy of his secret personal failings, which is lamentably common in +England. Having premised thus much, I go on with my letter. + +I drove to Lady Blessington's an evening or two since, with the usual +certainty of finding her at home, as there was no opera, and the equal +certainty of finding a circle of agreeable and eminent men about her. +She met me with the information that Moore was in town, and an +invitation to dine with her whenever she should be able to prevail +upon "the little Bacchus" to give her a day. D'Israeli, the younger, +was there, and Dr. Beattie, the king's physician (and author, +unacknowledged, of "The Heliotrope"), and one or two fashionable young +noblemen. + +Moore was naturally the first topic. He had appeared at the opera the +night before, after a year's ruralizing at "Sloperton cottage," as +fresh and young and witty as he ever was known in his youth--(for +Moore must be sixty at least). Lady B. said the only difference she +could see in his appearance, was the loss of his curls, which once +justified singularly his title of Bacchus, flowing about his head in +thin, glossy, elastic tendrils, unlike any other hair she had ever +seen, and comparable to nothing but the rings of the vine. He is now +quite bald, and the change is very striking. D'Israeli regretted that +he should have been met, exactly on his return to London, with the +savage but clever article in Fraser's Magazine on his plagiarisms. +"Give yourself no trouble about that," said Lady B., "for you may be +sure he will never see it. Moore guards against the sight and +knowledge of criticism as people take precautions against the plague. +He reads few periodicals, and but one newspaper. If a letter comes to +him from a suspicious quarter, he burns it unopened. If a friend +mentions a criticism to him at the club, he never forgives him; and, +so well is this understood among his friends, that he might live in +London a year, and all the magazines might dissect him, and he would +probably never hear of it. In the country he lives on the estate of +Lord Lansdowne, his patron and best friend, with half a dozen other +noblemen within a dinner-drive, and he passes his life in this +exclusive circle, like a bee in amber, perfectly preserved from +everything that could blow rudely upon him. He takes the world _en +philosophe_, and is determined to descend to his grave perfectly +ignorant, if such things as critics exist." Somebody said this was +weak, and D'Israeli thought it was wise, and made a splendid defence +of his opinion, as usual, and I agreed with D'Israeli. Moore deserves +a medal, as the happiest author of his day, to possess the power. + +A remark was made, in rather a satirical tone, upon Moore's +worldliness and passion for rank. "He was sure," it was said, "to have +four or five invitations to dine on the same day, and he tormented +himself with the idea that he had not accepted perhaps the most +exclusive. He would get off from an engagement with a Countess to dine +with a Marchioness, and from a Marchioness to accept the later +invitation of a Duchess; and as he cared little for the society of +men, and would sing and be delightful only for the applause of women, +it mattered little whether one circle was more talented than another. +Beauty was one of his passions, but rank and fashion were all the +rest." This rather left-handed portrait was confessed by all to be +just, Lady B. herself making no comment upon it. She gave, as an +offset, however, some particulars of Moore's difficulties from his +West Indian appointment, which left a balance to his credit. + +"Moore went to Jamaica with a profitable appointment. The climate +disagreed with him, and he returned home, leaving the business in the +hands of a confidential clerk, who embezzled eight thousand pounds in +the course of a few months and absconded. Moore's politics had made +him obnoxious to the government, and he was called to account with +unusual severity; while Theodore Hook, who had been recalled at this +very time from some foreign appointment, for a deficit of twenty +thousand pounds in his accounts, was never molested, being of the +ruling party, Moore's misfortune awakened a great sympathy among his +friends. Lord Lansdowne was the first to offer his aid. He wrote to +Moore, that for many years he had been in the habit of laying aside +from his income eight thousand pounds, for the encouragement of the +arts and literature, and that he should feel that it was well disposed +of for that year, if Moore would accept it, to free him from his +difficulties. It was offered in the most delicate and noble manner, +but Moore declined it. The members of "White's" (mostly noblemen) +called a meeting, and (not knowing the amount of the deficit) +subscribed in one morning twenty-five thousand pounds and wrote to the +poet, that they would cover the sum, whatever it might be. This was +declined. Longman and Murray then offered to pay it, and wait for +their remuneration from his works. He declined even this, and went to +Passy with his family, where he economized and worked hard till it was +cancelled." + +This was certainly a story most creditable to the poet, and it was +told with an eloquent enthusiasm, that did the heart of the beautiful +narrator infinite credit. I have given only the skeleton of it. Lady +Blessington went on to mention another circumstance, very honorable to +Moore, of which I had never before heard. "At one time two different +counties of Ireland had sent committees to him, to offer him a seat in +parliament; and as he depended on his writings for a subsistence, +offering him at the same time twelve hundred pounds a year, while he +continued to represent them. Moore was deeply touched with it, and +said no circumstance of his life had ever gratified him so much. He +admitted, that the honor they proposed him had been his most cherished +ambition, but the necessity of receiving a pecuniary support at the +same time, was an insuperable obstacle. He could never enter +parliament with his hands tied, and his opinions and speech fettered, +as they would be irresistibly in such circumstances." This does not +sound like "jump-up-and-kiss-me Tom Moore," as the Irish ladies call +him; but her ladyship vouched for the truth of it. It was worthy of an +old Roman. + +By what transition I know not, the conversation turned on Platonism, +and D'Israeli, (who seemed to have remembered the shelf on which +Vivian Grey was to find "the latter Platonists" in his father's +library) "flared up," as a dandy would say, immediately. His wild, +black eyes glistened, and his nervous lips quivered and poured out +eloquence; and a German professor, who had entered late, and the +Russian Charge d'affaires who had entered later, and a whole +ottoman-full of noble exquisites, listened with wonder. He gave us an +account of Taylor, almost the last of the celebrated Platonists, who +worshipped Jupiter, in a back parlor in London a few years ago, with +undoubted sincerity. He had an altar and a brazen figure of the +Thunderer, and performed his devotions as regularly as the most pious +_sacerdos_ of the ancients. In his old age he was turned out of the +lodgings he had occupied for a great number of years, and went to a +friend in much distress to complain of the injustice. He had "only +attempted to worship his gods, according to the dictates of his +conscience." "Did you pay your bills?" asked the friend. "Certainly." +"Then what is the reason?" "His landlady had taken offence at his +_sacrificing a bull to Jupiter in his back parlor_!" + +The story sounded very Vivian-Greyish, and everybody laughed at it as +a very good invention; but D'Israeli quoted his father as his +authority, and it may appear in the Curiosities of Literature--where, +however, it will never be so well told, as by the extraordinary +creature from whom we had heard it. + + * * * * * + +_February 22d, 1835._--The excitement in London about the choice of a +Speaker is something startling. It took place yesterday, and the party +are thunderstruck at the non-election of Sir Manners Sutton. This is a +terrible blow upon them, for it was a defeat at the outset; and if +they failed in a question where they had the immense personal +popularity of the late Speaker to assist them, what will they do on +general questions? The House of Commons was surrounded all day with an +excited mob. Lady ---- told me last night that she drove down toward +evening, to ascertain the result (Sir C. M. Sutton is her +brother-in-law), and the crowd surrounded her carriage, recognizing +her as the sister of the tory Speaker, and threatened to tear the +coronet from the panels. "We'll soon put an end to your coronets," +said a rapscallion in the mob. The tories were so confident of success +that Sir Robert Peel gave out cards a week ago, for a soiree to meet +Speaker Sutton, on the night of the election. There is a general +report in town that the whigs will impeach the Duke of Wellington! +This looks like a revolution, does it not? It is very certain that the +Duke and Sir Robert Peel have advised the King to dissolve parliament +again, if there is any difficulty in getting on with the government. +The Duke was dining with Lord Aberdeen the other day, when some one at +table ventured to wonder, at his accepting a subordinate office in the +cabinet he had himself formed. "If I could serve his majesty better," +said the patrician soldier, "I would ride as king's messenger +to-morrow!" He certainly is a remarkable old fellow. + +Perhaps, however, literary news would interest you more. Bulwer is +publishing in a volume, his papers from the New Monthly. I met him an +hour ago in Regent-street, looking what is called in London, +"_uncommon seedy_!" He is either the worst or the best dressed man in +London, according to the time of day or night you see him. D'Israeli, +the author of Vivian Grey, drives about in an open carriage, with Lady +S----, looking more melancholy than usual. The absent baronet, whose +place he fills, is about bringing an action against him, which will +finish his career, unless he can coin the damages in his brain. Mrs. +Hemans is dying of consumption in Ireland. I have been passing a week +at a country house, where Miss Jane Porter, Miss Pardoe, and Count +Krazinsky (author of the Court of Sigismund), are domiciliated for the +present. Miss Porter is one of her own heroines, grown old--a still +handsome and noble wreck of beauty. Miss Pardoe is nineteen, +fair-haired, sentimental, and has the smallest feet and is the best +waltzer I ever saw, but she is not otherwise pretty. The Polish Count +is writing the life of his grandmother, whom I should think he +strongly resembled in person. He is an excellent fellow, for all that. +I dined last week with Joanna Baillie, at Hampstead--the most charming +old lady I ever saw. To-day I dine with Longman to meet Tom Moore, who +is living _incog._ near this Nestor of publishers at Hampstead. Moore +is fagging hard on his history of Ireland. I shall give you the +particulars of all these things in my letters hereafter. + +Poor Elia--my old favorite--is dead. I consider it one of the most +fortunate things that ever happened to me, to have seen him. I think +I sent you in one of my letters an account of my breakfasting in +company with Charles Lamb and his sister ("Bridget Elia") at the +Temple. The exquisite papers on his life and letters in the Athenaeum, +are by Barry Cornwall. + +Lady Blessington's new book makes a great noise. Living as she does, +twelve hours out of the twenty-four, in the midst of the most +brilliant and mind-exhausting circle in London, I only wonder how she +found the time. Yet it was written in six weeks. Her novels sell for a +hundred pounds more than any other author's except Bulwer. Do you know +the _real_ prices of books? Bulwer gets _fifteen_ hundred pounds--Lady +B. _four_ hundred, Honorable Mrs. Norton _two_ hundred and fifty, Lady +Charlotte Bury _two_ hundred, Grattan _three_ hundred and most others +below this. D'Israeli can not sell a book _at all_, I hear. Is not +that odd? I would give more for one of his novels, than for forty of +the common _saleable_ things about town. + +The authoress of the powerful book called Two Old Men's Tales, is an +old unitarian lady, a Mrs. Marsh. She declares she will never write +another book. The other was a glorious one, though! + + + + +LETTER LXXV. + + LONDON--THE POET MOORE--LAST DAYS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT--MOORE'S + OPINION OF O'CONNELL--ANACREON AT THE PIANO--DEATH OF BYRON--A + SUPPRESSED ANECDOTE. + + +I called on Moore with a letter of introduction, and met him at the +door of his lodgings. I knew him instantly from the pictures I had +seen of him, but was surprised at the diminutiveness of his person. He +is much below the middle size, and with his white hat and long +chocolate frock-coat, was far from prepossessing in his appearance. +With this material disadvantage, however, his address is +gentleman-like to a very marked degree, and, I should think no one +could see Moore without conceiving a strong liking for him. As I was +to meet him at dinner, I did not detain him. In the moment's +conversation that passed, he inquired very particularly after +Washington Irving, expressing for him the warmest friendship, and +asked what Cooper was doing. + +I was at Lady Blessington's at eight. Moore had not arrived, but the +other persons of the party--a Russian count, who spoke all the +languages of Europe as well as his own; a Roman banker, whose dynasty +is more powerful than the pope's; a clever English nobleman, and the +"observed of all observers," Count D'Orsay, stood in the window upon +the park, killing, as they might, the melancholy twilight half hour +preceding dinner. + +"Mr. Moore!" cried the footman at the bottom of the staircase, "Mr. +Moore!" cried the footman at the top. And with his glass at his eye, +stumbling over an ottoman between his near-sightedness and the +darkness of the room, enter the poet. Half a glance tells you that he +is at home on a carpet. Sliding his little feet up to Lady Blessington +(of whom he was a lover when she was sixteen, and to whom some of the +sweetest of his songs were written), he made his compliments, with a +gayety and an ease combined with a kind of worshipping deference, that +was worthy of a prime-minister at the court of love. With the +gentlemen, all of whom he knew, he had the frank merry manner of a +confident favorite, and he was greeted like one. He went from one to +the other, straining back his head to look up at them (for, singularly +enough, every gentleman in the room was six feet high and upward), and +to every one he said something which, from any one else, would have +seemed peculiarly felicitous, but which fell from his lips, as if his +breath was not more spontaneous. + +Dinner was announced, the Russian handed down "milady," and I found +myself seated opposite Moore, with a blaze of light on his Bacchus +head, and the mirrors, with which the superb octagonal room is +pannelled, reflecting every motion. To see him only at table, you +would think him not a small man. His principal length is in his body, +and his head and shoulders are those of a much larger person. +Consequently he _sits tall_, and with the peculiar erectness of head +and neck, his diminutiveness disappears. + +The soup vanished in the busy silence that beseems it, and as the +courses commenced their procession, Lady Blessington led the +conversation with the brilliancy and ease, for which she is remarkable +over all the women of her time. She had received from Sir William +Gell, at Naples, the manuscript of a volume upon the last days of Sir +Walter Scott. It was a melancholy chronicle of imbecility, and the +book was suppressed, but there were two or three circumstances +narrated in its pages which were interesting. Soon after his arrival +at Naples, Sir Walter went with his physician and one or two friends +to the great museum. It happened that on the same day a large +collection of students and Italian literati were assembled, in one of +the rooms, to discuss some newly-discovered manuscripts. It was soon +known that the "Wizard of the North" was there, and a deputation was +sent immediately, to request him to honor them by presiding at their +session. At this time Scott was a wreck, with a memory that retained +nothing for a moment, and limbs almost as helpless as an infant's. He +was dragging about among the relics of Pompeii, taking no interest in +anything he saw, when their request was made known to him through his +physician. "No, no," said he, "I know nothing of their lingo. Tell +them I am not well enough to come." He loitered on, and in about half +an hour after, he turned to Dr. H. and said, "who was that you said +wanted to see me?" The doctor explained. "I'll go," said he, "they +shall see me if they wish it;" and, against the advice of his friends, +who feared it would be too much for his strength, he mounted the +staircase, and made his appearance at the door. A burst of +enthusiastic cheers welcomed him on the threshold, and forming in two +lines, many of them on their knees, they seized his hands as he +passed, kissed them, thanked him in their passionate language for the +delight with which he had filled the world, and placed him in the +chair with the most fervent expressions of gratitude for his +condescension. The discussion went on, but not understanding a +syllable of the language, Scott was soon wearied, and his friends +observed it, pleaded the state of his health as an apology, and he +rose to take his leave. These enthusiastic children of the south +crowded once more around him, and with exclamations of affection and +even tears, kissed his hands once more, assisting his tottering steps, +and sent after him a confused murmur of blessings as the door closed +on his retiring form. It is described by the writer as the most +affecting scene he had ever witnessed. + +Some other remarks were made upon Scott, but the _parole_ was soon +yielded to Moore, who gave us an account of a visit he made to +Abbotsford when its illustrious owner was in his pride and prime. +"Scott," he said, "was the most manly and natural character in the +world. You felt when with him, that he was the soul of truth and +heartiness. His hospitality was as simple and open as the day, and he +lived freely himself, and expected his guests to do so. I remember him +giving us whiskey at dinner, and Lady Scott met my look of surprise +with the assurance that Sir Walter seldom dined without it. He never +ate or drank to excess, but he had no system, his constitution was +herculean, and he denied himself nothing. I went once from a dinner +party with Sir Thomas Lawrence to meet Scott at Lockhart's. We had +hardly entered the room when we were set down to a hot supper of roast +chickens, salmon, punch, etc., etc., and Sir Walter ate immensely of +everything. What a contrast between this and the last time I saw him +in London! He had come down to embark for Italy--broken quite down in +mind and body. He gave Mrs. Moore a book, and I asked him if he would +make it more valuable by writing in it. He thought I meant that he +should write some verses, and said, 'Oh I never write poetry now.' I +asked him to write only his own name and hers, and he attempted it, +but it was quite illegible." + +Some one remarked that Scott's life of Napoleon was a failure. + +"I think little of it," said Moore; "but after all, it was an +embarrassing task, and Scott did what a wise man would do--made as +much of his subject as was politic and necessary, and no more." + +"It will not live," said some one else; "as much because it is a bad +book, as because it is the life of an individual." + +"But _what_ an individual!" Moore replied. "Voltaire's life of Charles +the Twelfth was the life of an individual, yet that will live and be +read as long as there is a book in the world, and what was he to +Napoleon?" + +O'Connell was mentioned. + +"He is a powerful creature," said Moore, "but his eloquence has done +great harm both to England and Ireland. There is nothing so powerful +as oratory. The faculty of '_thinking on his legs_,' is a tremendous +engine in the hands of any man. There is an undue admiration for this +faculty, and a sway permitted to it, which was always more dangerous +to a country than anything else. Lord Althorp is a wonderful instance +of what a man may do _without_ talking. There is a general confidence +in him--a universal belief in his honesty, which serves him instead. +Peel is a fine speaker, but, admirable as he had been as an +oppositionist, he failed, when he came to lead the house. O'Connell +would be irresistible were it not for the two blots on his +character--the contributions in Ireland for his support, and his +refusal to give satisfaction to the man he is still coward enough to +attack. They may say what they will of duelling, it is the great +preserver of the decencies of society. The old school, which made a +man responsible for his words, was the better. I must confess I think +so. Then, in O'Connell's case, he had not made his vow against +duelling when Peel challenged him. He accepted the challenge, and Peel +went to Dover on his way to France, where they were to meet; and +O'Connell pleaded his wife's illness, and delayed till the law +interfered. Some other Irish patriot, about the same time, refused a +challenge on account of the illness of his daughter, and one of the +Dublin wits made a good epigram on the two:-- + + "'Some men, with a horror of slaughter, + Improve on the scripture command, + And 'honor their'----wife and daughter-- + That their days may be long in the land.' + +"The great period of Ireland's glory was between '82 and '98, and it +was a time when a man almost lived with a pistol in his hand. +Grattan's dying advice to his son, was, 'Be always ready with the +pistol!' He, himself never hesitated a moment. At one time, there was +a kind of conspiracy to fight him out of the world. On some famous +question, Corrie was employed purposely to bully him, and made a +personal attack of the grossest virulence. Grattan was so ill, at the +time, as to be supported into the house between two friends. He rose +to reply; and first, without alluding to Corrie at all, clearly and +entirely overturned every argument he had advanced, that bore upon the +question. He then paused a moment, and stretching out his arm, as if +he would reach across the house, said, 'For the assertions the +gentleman has been pleased to make with regard to myself, my answer +_here_, is _they are false_! elsewhere, it would be--_a blow!_ They +met, and Grattan shot him through the arm. Corrie proposed another +shot, but Grattan said, 'No! let the curs fight it out!' and they were +friends ever after. I like the old story of the Irishman, who was +challenged by some desperate blackguard. 'Fight _him_!' said he, 'I +would sooner go to my grave without a fight! Talking of Grattan, is it +not wonderful that, with all the agitation in Ireland, we have had no +such men since his time? Look at the Irish newspapers. The whole +country in convulsions--people's lives, fortunes, and religion, at +stake, and not a gleam of talent from one year's end to the other. It +is natural for sparks to be struck out in a time of violence, like +this--but Ireland, for all that is worth living for, _is dead_! You +can scarcely reckon Shiel of the calibre of her spirits of old, and +O'Connell, with all his faults, stands 'alone in his glory.'" + +The conversation I have thus run together is a mere skeleton, of +course. Nothing but a short-hand report could retain the delicacy and +elegance of Moore's language, and memory itself cannot embody again +the kind of frost-work of imagery, which was formed and melted on his +lips. His voice is soft or firm as the subject requires, but perhaps +the word _gentlemanly_ describes it better than any other. It is upon +a natural key, but, if I may so phrase it, it is _fused_ with a +high-bred affectation, expressing deference and courtesy, at the same +time, that its pauses are constructed peculiarly to catch the ear. It +would be difficult not to attend to him while he is talking, though +the subject were but the shape of a wine-glass. + +Moore's head is distinctly before me while I write, but I shall find +it difficult to describe. His hair, which curled once all over it in +long tendrils, unlike anybody else's in the world, and which probably +suggested his _sobriquet_ of "Bacchus," is diminished now to a few +curls sprinkled with gray, and scattered in a single ring above his +ears. His forehead is wrinkled, with the exception of a most prominent +development of the organ of gayety, which, singularly enough, shines +with the lustre and smooth polish of a pearl, and is surrounded by a +semicircle of lines drawn close about it, like entrenchments against +Time. His eyes still sparkle like a champaign bubble, though the +invader has drawn his pencillings about the corners; and there is a +kind of wintry red, of the tinge of an October leaf, that seems +enamelled on his cheek, the eloquent record of the claret his wit has +brightened. His mouth is the most characteristic feature of all. The +lips are delicately cut, slight and changeable as an aspen; but there +is a set-up look about the lower lip, a determination of the muscle to +a particular expression, and you fancy that you can almost see wit +astride upon it. It is written legibly with the imprint of habitual +success. It is arch, confident, and half diffident, as if he were +disguising his pleasure at applause, while another bright gleam of +fancy was breaking on him. The slightly-tossed nose confirms the fun +of the expression, and altogether it is a face that sparkles, beams, +radiates,--everything but _feels_. Fascinating beyond all men as he +is, Moore looks like a worldling. + +This description may be supposed to have occupied the hour after Lady +Blessington retired from the table; for, with her, vanished Moore's +excitement, and everybody else seemed to feel, that light had gone out +of the room. Her excessive beauty is less an inspiration than the +wondrous talent with which she draws from every person around her his +peculiar excellence. Talking better than anybody else, and narrating, +particularly, with a graphic power that I never saw excelled, this +distinguished woman seems striving only to make others unfold +themselves; and never had diffidence a more apprehensive and +encouraging listener. But this is a subject with which I should never +be done. + +We went up to coffee, and Moore brightened again over his +_chasse-cafe_, and went glittering on with criticisms on Grisi, the +delicious songstress now ravishing the world, whom he placed above all +but Pasta; and whom he thought, with the exception that her legs were +too short, an incomparable creature. This introduced music very +naturally, and with a great deal of difficulty he was taken to the +piano. My letter is getting long, and I have no time to describe his +singing. It is well known, however, that its effect is only equalled +by the beauty of his own words; and, for one, I could have taken him +into my heart with my delight. He makes no attempt at music. It is a +kind of admirable recitative, in which every shade of thought is +syllabled and dwelt upon, and the sentiment of the song goes through +your blood, warming you to the very eyelids, and starting your tears, +if you have soul or sense in you. I have heard of women's fainting at +a song of Moore's; and if the burden of it answered by chance, to a +secret in the bosom of the listener, I should think, from its +comparative effect upon so old a stager as myself, that the heart +would break with it. + +We all sat around the piano, and after two or three songs of Lady +Blessington's choice, he rambled over the keys awhile, and sang "When +first I met thee," with a pathos that beggars description. When the +last word had faltered out, he rose and took Lady Blessington's hand, +said good-night, and was gone before a word was uttered. For a full +minute after he had closed the door, no one spoke. I could have +wished, for myself, to drop silently asleep where I sat, with the +tears in my eyes and the softness upon my heart. + + "Here's a health to thee, Tom Moore!" + + * * * * * + +I was in company the other evening where Westmacott, the sculptor, was +telling a story of himself and Leigh Hunt. They were together one day +at Fiesole, when a butterfly, of an uncommon sable color, alighted on +Westmacott's forehead, and remained there several minutes. Hunt +immediately cried out, "The spirit of some dear friend is departed," +and as they entered the gate of Florence on their return, some one met +them and informed them of the death of Byron, the news of which had at +that moment arrived. + + * * * * * + +I have just time before the packet sails to send you an anecdote, that +is _bought out_ of the London papers. A nobleman, living near Belgrave +square, received a visit a day or two ago from a police officer, who +stated to him, that he had a man-servant in his house, who had escaped +from Botany Bay. His Lordship was somewhat surprised, but called up +the male part of his household, at the officer's request, and passed +them in review. The culprit was not among them. The officer then +requested to see the _female_ part of the establishment; and, to the +inexpressible astonishment of the whole household, he laid his hand +upon the shoulder of the _lady's confidential maid_, and informed her +she was his prisoner. A change of dress was immediately sent for, and +miladi's dressing-maid was re-metamorphosed into an effeminate-looking +fellow, and marched off to a new trial. It is a most extraordinary +thing, that he had lived unsuspected in the family for nine months, +performing all the functions of a confidential Abigail, and very much +in favor with his unsuspecting mistress, who is rather a serious +person, and would as soon have thought of turning out to be a man +herself. It is said, that the husband once made a remark upon the +huskiness of the maid's voice, but no other comment was ever made, +reflecting in the least upon her qualities as a member of the _beau +sexe_. The story is quite authentic, but hushed up out of regard to +the lady. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Pencillings by the Way, by N. Parker Willis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PENCILLINGS BY THE WAY *** + +***** This file should be named 39179.txt or 39179.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/1/7/39179/ + +Produced by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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