description, because it is of a style very common in Rome, and its date
is well ascertained. The lower part is entirely plain, excepting the
small moulding which terminates it, and is nearly hid by the body of the
church. Above, there are four nearly equal stories, each crowned with a
cornice, of which the uppermost is the largest; the lower of these has
three recesses on one side only. The next has had three arches on each
side, but they are now filled up; the third has likewise three arches,
and these are still open. The upper has also three arches on each side,
but these, instead of being separated by square piers, are divided by
two columns, each of which supports a corbel immediately under the
springing of the arch. The diameter of the column is very much less than
the thickness of the wall, perhaps hardly above one third, so that the
arches considerably overhang their supports. This fashion seems to have
been widely spread, and to have lasted long, for the examples are very
numerous at Rome and elsewhere. It would be difficult to determine how
long, but I suspect some of them are as late as the eleventh century.
When it was rare to build any thing of consequence, the desire of
distinction did not require the frequent alteration of design, which
takes place when more is executed; and architecture seems to have
changed its type but little from the fourth or fifth, to the beginning
of the eleventh century.
“But dinner waits, and we are tired;
Said Gilpin, so am I.”
LETTER XXVII.
LIVING AT ROME—MODERN CHURCHES.
_Rome, March, 1817._
I AM going, I flatter myself, to satisfy you to the utmost, by giving
the most minute detail of my Roman life. You will find it not so
different from the manner of living in London as perhaps you expect; for
in fact, the Romans are very much the same sort of beings as ourselves,
and eat and drink, and have the same affections and appetites as the
English. I will add, that the national character in both is pride, and
not vanity; that they are rather reserved, and feel more than they shew:
added to which, they finish their buildings as we do, and do not leave
them half done, as in France, and many parts of Italy; but then they
undertake them on a much more magnificent scale; and I believe, after
all that has been said of the degeneracy of the modern Romans, that if
their political institutions were favourable, they would have spirit to
undertake, and resolution and perseverance to carry them through the
greatest enterprizes. I will not enter into this subject till I have
seen more of them, but relate those things which more nearly concern
myself. In the first place, my lodgings consist of two good sized rooms,
the largest of which is nearly thirty feet long on one side, but is very
much out of a square, and as I have already told you, overlooks half
Rome. They are both paved with bricks. The landlady offered me a mat for
the whole room, but I was afraid of the fleas, and contented myself with
one or two small pieces to put my feet upon. A small wood fire, which
costs about 1_d._ per hour, serves to keep me warm in the mornings and
evenings. The sun would perform that office in the middle of the day,
but I am then seldom at home. The bed, as usual in Italy, is large. Some
boards, about six feet long, or a little more, are laid on two iron
stands. On these is placed a great bag filled with the leaves of Indian
corn, and over this two thin mattresses; of course there are no
bed-posts, or hangings, or any thing of the sort; and this is the usual
disposition of the beds in Italy, at least of those in common houses,
and not intended for shew. The other furniture consists of a large
press, which contains my clothes, and some books; a writing-desk, with
drawers below; a square table; a smaller oval one; two side-tables
against the wall; a straw couch; one large elbow-chair, and thirteen
others. The chimney piece is made out of a piece of Greek marble. For
fifteen hundred years the masons of Rome have been using up their old
materials, and they are not yet exhausted. I apprehend, that during that
period, hardly a single piece of new marble has been brought to Rome
except for the use of the sculptors.
And now, having given you an exact description of my lodgings, I will
proceed to as particular an account of one day’s employment, from which
you may judge of the rest. I rise about seven, or according to the Roman
reckoning at the present moment, at 13 o’clock, at which time my
attendant Leopold comes in, and brushes my coat, and blacks my shoes,
all which is done in the room, for he never thinks of going elsewhere to
perform these operations; he also makes the bed. This Leopold pays six
crowns per month for his board and lodging in the house, and makes what
he can of serving the lodgers, and in the evening attends the lady of
the house to pay visits, or go to the theatre, not as a servant, but as
a companion. Afterwards he brings me my breakfast of coffee and milk,
which I always drink from a tumbler, and while I am eating it, he stops
to relate to me various stories and opinions. Among other things he
prides himself on being a Tuscan, not a Roman, complains of the bad
government of Rome, and says priests are not fit for governors. Then he
tells me, that he had been a soldier for some years, but always with
some authority, and never as a mere private, that he liked the
employment very much, but was obliged to leave it on account of his
being exceedingly short-sighted. His brother is a parson of some parish,
(Parocco) and had been tutor in the family of the queen of Etruria.
Leopold complains, that in his present employment his short-sightedness
is very inconvenient. I asked him why he did not use spectacles; but he
assured me they would make his sight worse. “Why,” said he, “a little
while ago I saw a man with spectacles tumble down the steps of the
Trinità. What, said I, could your spectacles help you to see no better?
‘Oh,’ replied the other, ‘the spectacles are of no use, I only wear them
to be in the fashion; in England every body wears spectacles;’ but now,”
adds Leopold, “I see a great many English, and it seems they do not wear
spectacles.” He then proceeded to tell me, that he thought my Italian
master could not be a good one, because he had spent a great part of his
life in the country, and therefore could not naturally speak the
language well; and that he had since been employed in various ways, none
of which had succeeded, and that this must have prevented him from
studying it; he would consequently neither be able to chuse the best and
most elegant expressions, nor to pronounce correctly. Thus, you see my
shoe-black is a man of various accomplishments, and is moreover quite a
gentleman; for though he does not mind what he does within doors, he
would not on any account be seen employed in any servile occupation
without. Moreover, on the last day of the carnival, he would not by any
means go on to the Corso on foot, because it was not genteel.
After breakfast I usually employ myself a little while at home in
drawing or reading, and then walk to the Campo Vaccino; here the
_forzati_, _i. e._ the criminals condemned to hard labour, are employed
in making excavations to expose for examination the antiquities of the
place, and in some situations they have reached the old pavement thirty
feet below the present surface. I continue my walk along the Via Sacra,
and a parcel of children surround me, begging for half a bayoc. A little
farther, a grinning little chit, looking quite fat and saucy, comes to
tell me he is dying of hunger. However, there is in other cases plenty
of the appearance, and I doubt not of the reality of extreme misery. The
harvests of wheat and maize, and the vintage, have been very deficient
throughout Italy. I then walk into the Coliseum, and while drawing
there, a soldier comes to me, a young lad of perhaps sixteen or
seventeen years old, and tells me that he is obliged to serve three
years; that he wished to procure a substitute, but was not permitted.
Afterwards, he adds, that they are badly off under the pope, as their
pay is only 3½ bayocs per day, and after some farther conversation,
concludes with asking me for some money to buy brandy. I reply, that he
would be much better without it; he then asks for something to buy
bread, and assures me, that if I would not give him any, he must go to
bed supperless. Afterwards, I return to my own dinner at a trattoria;
these are not very good in Rome, but a person who is not fastidious may
do very well. I begin with maccaroni and powdered cheese. The Italians
eat this under the name of Parmesan, with their soups, and with
vegetables, as well as with maccaroni, and the Romans have a favourite
dish called _gnocchi_, which seems to consist of pieces of
batter-pudding sprinkled with Parmesan, and eaten with sugar and
cinnamon. As in France, they change your plates frequently, but give you
only one knife and fork for every thing. On my return, the maid, for
there is an old woman in the house, though the man makes the beds and
dusts the chambers, wishes me a good evening, and desires to know at
what hour she will have supper; for you know the Italians use the third
person, and the _she_ stands for _vos signoria_, your worship: they
consider it very rude to say _you_ to a superior, but I say _you_ to
them, for if I were to answer in the same manner, they would think I was
laughing at them. By supper the old dame means tea; and I tell her to
bring it at two o’clock, for the evening bell now rings at six. During
the tea she usually has something to say to me, as Leopold had in the
morning. Sometimes I go into society, or to the theatre, but not often,
and now during Lent, all the theatres are shut up: and so ends my day.
I went on twelfth day to hear a play which was acted by the children of
the Orphan School. The subject was the adoration of the wise men, and
the wrath of Herod. The stage was so small, that a well grown boy
appeared a giant. By whom the subject was reduced to a dramatic form I
do not know, but his principal effort was in the character of two
servants, whose wit, or blunders, formed great part of the entertainment
of the evening. In the last act we are introduced to where the Saviour
lies, not in a common stable or manger, but one resplendent with clouds
and glory, and God the Father in the distance. It was really a very
pretty scene in itself, however absurd as applied to the subject it
pretended to represent. At this point, an Italian priest called out to
another who happened to have his hat on, “Capello, signore, capello,
signore, signore, vi è il bambino.” This notion of finding in the
theatre a place of worship, was strangely at variance with all my
English notions and feelings.
I have said nothing about the Carnival, the observance of which is a
custom too different from any of ours to be entirely neglected. The
whole term lasts six weeks. I do not know if all the period ever used to
be filled up with these vagaries, but the time now allowed for the reign
of masking and folly is only eight days. These were preceded by a severe
edict against carrying any weapon. The punishment for this offence is to
be six years in the galleys; for drawing it, twelve years; for striking
a person, eighteen years; for wounding him, confinement for life; for
killing him, death. Premeditated assassinations are not, and perhaps
never have been common at Rome; but when the common people quarrelled,
and got into a passion, they sometimes used to stab each other. They are
indebted to the French for the correction of this evil. The carrying the
long sharp knives, which used to be the instrument of such
assassinations, was declared to be immediate death, and it is said that
no less than nineteen persons were shot the day after this law was
promulgated; the following day two more, and afterwards now and then a
straggler, but the habit was effectually broken: it seems a terrible
remedy, but it was also a terrible disease. Confinement to real hard
labour would perhaps have effected the cure, but more slowly, and the
Roman police has yet no correct idea of this. The edict above mentioned
also enjoined that no person should be masked except from the sounding
of the bell of the Capitol, to that of the Ave Maria, that is, from half
past one to half past five. There are masked balls on some evenings,
about which the edict says nothing, but every body understands that this
is permitted. The edict also determines the size of the sugar-plums
(which by the by are little pellets of whitening or plaster,) with which
persons might be pelted without offence. At about four o’clock, people
assemble on the Corso, and the rich parade up and down in their
carriages; as indeed they do throughout the winter, though it does not
seem a very pleasant ride. Close against the houses is a line of people
sitting or standing, and where the street is wider, a row of chairs, or
perhaps two rows of benches supported on scaffolding. Where this is the
case, the front of the scaffold is usually adorned with old tapestry,
and old tapestry is also hung out of the windows. Next to these is the
stream of carriages, going up on one side, and down on the other; and in
the middle a confused mixture of people, passing some one way and some
another, interrupted now and then by the horse, or foot soldiers,
parading up and down the streets. About a quarter before five, a gun
sounds, as a signal for all carriages to go off the Corso, and at five,
those which still remain there are turned off by the soldiers into the
nearest streets. A rope is then stretched across, at the spot where the
Corso opens into the Piazza del Popolo, and the horses are led up close
to it. They have bits of tin hanging about them, and balls with pins to
knock against their sides, and excite their speed as they go along. It
is said that blisters are previously applied, to make the parts more
tender. At a quarter past five, the rope is dropt, and off they start.
The race is merely once along the Corso, and therefore is only an affair
of a few minutes on the whole, and for any individual spectator hardly
of half a minute. There is no time for betting, and I think this is one
reason why the English are so generally dissatisfied with these races.
The continued interest of our own races warms up the feelings, and
produces a mental excitement, which such contests as these could never
reach, either with or without riders, or with bad or good horses. After
the race, carriages are again admitted on the Corso, but they soon
disperse, and at the Ave Maria all is quiet again. The first day was
very dull, with very few masks, and no humour. On the following days the
scene became more lively, especially in Giovedì Grasso. A great many men
had female masks and dresses, and several women were dressed as men. The
principal amusement seemed to be in the female masks, mobbing the
unmasked gentlemen, and in pelting all their acquaintances with the so
called sugar-plums. Some seemed to pelt every body, but I believe these
were principally English. A party of students of the Neapolitan academy
went about with a drawing-board and crayons, and affected to take
portraits; when you looked at their production there was an ass’s head.
Another party, consisting of French students, personated armed knights
on horseback, and performed their gambols very well. After the Ave
Maria, the theatres begin. There is plenty of time for every one to
change his dress, but a large portion choose to preserve them, though
all are obliged to abandon their masks, and the playhouses consequently
present a most ridiculous scene. Before the gay time of the Carnival
began, we had some very good acting, but during those mad days
_Pulcinella_ was pushed into every thing. This Pulcinella talks
Neapolitan, and I lost many things which appeared to delight the
audience; but most of the replies which I could comprehend had very
little wit, though they excited a great deal of laughter; the barbarous
language and pronunciation were more than half the jest.
I went one evening to the masked ball or festina, which is given in a
theatre not used at present for any other purpose: there were three
parties of dancers, but the rooms were so crowded, that there was hardly
space for them; a large proportion of the company was without masks:
there was not much wit, but a good deal of cheerfulness and good humour.
The entertainment was to begin at half an hour, and end at five, _i. e._
from six o’clock to half past ten; accordingly before eleven, the
attendants began to put out the candles, and a file of soldiers
gradually advancing, swept the place. There is no city where despotic
authority assumes so undisguised a form as at Rome; where power, and not
law, is so apparently the ruling principle; but perhaps we might not be
the worse for it, if some of our public amusements were limited in as
peremptory a manner. The masked ball on Friday night did not begin till
after midnight, in order not to disturb the religious observances of the
day: the same rule was observed on Sunday, but I did not go to either.
On the evening which closed this period of license, we had a new scene.
It is the practice here, for the mourners at a funeral to carry lighted
wax tapers; and on this evening, after the races, almost every body
carried lighted tapers to celebrate the funeral of the Carnival; the
street was crowded, the windows and balconies were all full of people,
and everywhere we saw abundance of these candles; some persons carried
them upon sticks, some stuck them upon their hats, others in the noses
of their masks, but most were carried in the hand, and many persons had
six or eight tapers twisted together to give a stronger light. Part of
the amusement consisted in a mutual endeavour to blow out each other’s
lights; the whole was very gay and splendid, and indeed the best thing
in the carnival; but it seemed rather premature, as after that there was
a masked ball, and after the ball, midnight suppers, where good
catholics stuffed themselves as full as possible, to prepare for their
long abstinence in Lent. In this year their holy father has spared them
the mortification of abstinence; and as fish is dear, and the people
very poor, he has granted a general dispensation to eat meat, except on
Friday and Saturday.
It is always a difficult thing to hear, or learn, good Italian in Italy,
for the provincialisms extend to all ranks, and the inhabitants of one
city are continually turning those of another into ridicule. It is true
that in many places they speak their own provincial dialect to one
another, and the Tuscan or Italian, when they converse with those who
are not of the same province. “When these Bolognese chatter to one
another,” said a Roman gentleman to me at Bologna, “I do not understand
a word of what they say.” Yet some peculiarities will creep into the
conversation, even when they think they are speaking the purest Tuscan.
In spite of this, companies of dramatists go about from city to city,
through the whole country, representing the same plays, with precisely
the same words in each. It occurred to me, that these actors must thus
get rid of all their own provincialisms; that they must study their
language, and would probably understand it; and moreover would be able
to point out the usual defects of each place. I will confess however,
that I have heard upon the stage, _cielo_ pronounced as an Englishman
would pronounce, _shailo_, and _occhi_ with the _ch_ like our _ch_ in
_church_. This was not favourable to my theory, but it was in the opera,
and I thought the comedians must do better; and indeed, as far as I can
judge they are much more correct; I was not therefore deterred from
fixing on one who was guilty of no blunders which I was able to detect,
who spoke very clearly and distinctly, and whose tones and actions were
perfectly natural, though perhaps rather too faintly marked for stage
effect; and I applied to him for some instruction in Italian. He seemed
to be quite willing to assist me, but as this was just before the eight
days of the carnival, he requested me to postpone the scheme for about
ten days, as the company intended to stay the Lent in Rome, when he
should have nothing else to do; however the company changed their mind,
and went away immediately, and I lost my master. It was quite a
disappointment to me, for he seemed very pleasing in his manners, and
moreover was a Tuscan, so that I promised myself great advantage from
the scheme. On missing him I procured another, with whom I am very well
pleased, and of whom you have just heard my attendant’s criticism. One
of his greatest faults is, that he is much given to flatter his pupils.
Now the Carnival is over, Rome seems dead. The contrast is very
striking, as the change takes place in a single day, and the gaiety does
not diminish gradually, as at London, and the English watering places.
The weather is delightful, and if the sun is rather too hot, it is easy
at present to find shade; and while sitting to draw under the shelter of
some venerable monument of antiquity, contemplating the clear blue sky,
and some richly tinted ruin, while a mild and gentle breeze wafts
perfumes from the beds of violets around, I seem to be as near an
earthly paradise as imagination can conceive. I wish I could bring you
here just for a moment, and show you what Rome is, and make you feel a
Roman winter; yet I am told they are not always so fine, but that they
usually have two months of continued wet. What astonishes me is to see
the trees without leaves during all this warm weather; the vegetation
even now, is not much more forward than in a favourable season in
England, but it is advancing with great rapidity.
I must however turn away from all this trifling, to my more serious
object of pursuit, and having given you an account of St. Peter’s, and a
sketch of the principal ancient churches of this city, I shall now
survey some of the modern ones.