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When I was in college one of my professors was a rather old man who was
fond of telling about his travels. He told me about several trips he had
taken. Some of these stories were very interesting, for he had gone into
many places outside the tourist’s ordinary routes in order to study
subjects in which he was particularly interested. One of these trips was
a visit to Rome. It was taken to attend a Congress of Chemists that
assembled there in the Palace of Justice, or Palazzo de Giustitia as the
Italians call it, located on the right bank of the Tiber near the Castel
de St. Angelo. His daughter, a beautiful girl of 21, accompanied him on
the trip. They traveled on the Red Star Line to Vlissingen, or Flushing,
and up the Scheldt to Antwerp.
The Congress was held in term time and he was limited to an absence of
six weeks. There were two things which he particularly wished to see
during this time. One of them was the iron mines of Elba. The ores found
in these mines are hematites and contain some of the finest crystals of
hematite that have ever been discovered. Elba was also, you will
remember, the home of Bonaparte after he had been expelled from France
for the first time. Here he ruled in petty state from the fifth of May,
1814, to the twenty sixth of February, 1815.
The second, and indeed the chief, object of his trip was to see the
boracic acid _soffioni_ at Lardrello. Here, it had been stated, jets of
steam break forth from the earth in which small amounts of boracic acid
are contained. This steam is carried into water, the boracic acid
condensed with the steam, and the dilute solution thus obtained
evaporated at a low temperature so as not to again volatilize it.
Ammonia and sulfureted hydrogen are also present and considerable
amounts of ammonium sulfate come into commerce from this source. These
statements which were so varied in character as to cause some suspicion
of exaggeration had aroused his curiosity, only to be completely
satisfied by first-hand information such as could be best obtained by a
visit.
From Antwerp they traveled to Brussels and from there to Rome by
express, by way of Milan. They expected to find it warm in Italy and
left their heavy clothing at Antwerp to await their return. They
traveled through the Italian Alps, however, and suffered from the cold
until Rome was reached. The journey from Brussels was begun in the
evening and the second night was passed on the way from Milan to Rome.
No seats together were to be had in the train from Milan. The daughter
found a good seat in the compartment reserved for women where there was
room also for her father and where he joined her. Whenever the conductor
came around he remonstrated with the Professor; but as the latter was
comfortably established this was met by a stare of no comprehension and
the slipping of a lira into the conductor’s hand which ended the
argument until the next conductor came around when the process must be
repeated. It was, however, uniformly successful.
They approached Rome on the afternoon of a beautiful day in May. The
whole surroundings were picturesque in the extreme. Black masses of
masonry perched upon the hilltops, marking the sites of cities and
towns, spoke eloquently of the reign of lawlessness only just passing
away. They passed remains of tombs and caverns excavated in the
hillsides—the marks of past civilizations. Everywhere, inside and
outside of Rome, were foundations of buildings of the oldest masonry
upon which a second structure had been erected, to be in turn destroyed
and serve as the foundation of another erection, but still leaving
visible remains. This was the country and these the places where Julius
and Augustus Caesar lived and reigned, where Cicero spoke, where
Cataline conspired, over which Hannibal roamed at will and where Fabian
tactics were born. This was the land of the two Plinies, of Scipio the
conqueror of Carthage, of Dante and Virgil; the sense of its antiquity
grew and became overpowering.
They thought Italy the most beautiful country they had ever seen, “Why,”
said the Professor, “As we traveled along I saw _Narcissus Poeticus_
growing in the fields.”
They stopped at the Royal Hotel and were visited by a valet who proposed
that he should take care of them during their stay, to which they
assented. They occupied three rooms, two bedrooms and a sitting room. In
the sitting room of a morning breakfast was prepared by the valet while
they were dressing. Then they sat down to breakfast, the valet waiting
on them. Lunch was served downstairs, but dinner was the great event of
hotel life. The guests were expected to be on time but if delayed they
murmured a perfunctory excuse to the Major Domo which was smilingly
accepted. The cooking here was elevated to the dignity of a fine art. It
was marvelous and sometimes spectacular; as when at the conclusion of a
meal an ice was placed in a dish and this in another larger dish held
high upon the waiter’s outstretched hand, came in surrounded by blue
flames, produced by pouring a little strong liquor into the outer vessel
and setting fire to it. Upon another evening, after dinner, the guests
were entertained with a very wonderful musical performance carried out
by two men and a woman, the latter a very beautiful and accomplished
Italian. It soon dawns upon the traveler that the modern Italian is
descended from widely differing tribes, few of whom even look alike.
Those we know best are swarthy, with black hair and wonderful eyes.
There are many types beside this, and not a few light skins and blue
eyes.
The Congress was divided into sections. The presiding officer of each
section had been selected because of his accomplishments as a linguist.
This was necessary, because there were four official languages in which
papers might be presented and discussed: Italian, French, German and
English. Two of the presiding officers were Germans: Georg Lunge, an
accomplished technical chemist, who had been petted until his sense of
proportion had been lost and he had become arrogant, and Wilhelm
Ostwald, an equally accomplished and much more learned man and a great
physical chemist, who was always polite and never was able to forget
that he was a gentleman, first. But the sessions were found
uninteresting by comparison. Rome itself was so absorbing. They soon
gave up the sessions entirely and devoted all their time to exploring
the city. The first trip was to the Colosseum. Here they secured a
guide—quite an old man, with an English all his own—who declared that:
“He was a Roman citizen and p-r-r-r-oud of it.” The Professor did not
blame him in the least for this feeling. The old man proved to be a
wonderful mine of information, most of it apparently accurate. He
explained how the naval battles and other water scenes were managed, how
the crowds were protected from the sun and from rains, how the various
orders of Romans came in and reached their seats, and showed them the
dens where wild beasts were kept. In answer to a question as to how the
stones of the amphitheatre were joined without mortar, he took them to a
place where a broken corner showed the method of joining by means of a
short iron rod leaded into both stones. While they were talking and the
Professor was sketching he turned his head and found a policeman with
sword and musket overlooking the performance, and especially the
sketching, which it seemed was forbidden. But the guide set them at ease
by remarking, pointing to the policeman: “a friend of mine.”
Another afternoon was devoted to the famous Forum Romanum, the scene of
so many speeches and so many triumphs, and, especially remembered, the
speech of Antony over Caesar’s dead body, reported by Shakespeare, and
repeated and varied in interpretation by so many of the masters of the
tragic art.
A third excursion was to the catacombs on the Appian Way. They were
greeted here by a priestly-looking crowd of men one of whom enquired,
pointing at them: “English?” Answered in the affirmative they were
motioned aside until enough English had accumulated to make up a party
and the burly and not over clean guide led them around. The catacombs
were disappointing. The galleries are narrow, tortuous and unattractive.
The remains of the art of that period though no doubt interesting as
showing how art arose decayed and died, were not interesting to a
modern. The conclusion was still more unattractive; for, on trying to
find their conveyance they discovered that it had disappeared and they
must find their way back afoot. But it was evening; they were walking
over the road so many conquerors had trodden; under the soft Roman
twilight with the monuments of the great dead on both sides of the way;
they were glad the driver had fled and left them to walk.
One day was stolen for a swift excursion to Naples to see the museum.
Here they stopped at Bertolini’s Hotel, which is situated on the side of
a hill far above the city level, with a splendid view. This is reached
by going through a doorway into a tunnel at the end of which is a lift.
At the top a splendid hotel with this superb view of the bay and of
Vesuvius.
There was not time for a thorough examination of the treasures of the
museum, but enough was seen to verify and enlarge some statements the
Professor had made in a history he was then writing. The examples of
metal working were very illuminating, showing as they did in some
magnificent examples from Pompeii how little modern art excelled the art
of that day except in speed and cheapness of working.
Returning to Rome they discovered that the trip to Elba and to Lardrello
had been abandoned because of a strike among the employes on the railway
and steamboat; but the Professor declared that he had come to see
Lardrello and he would walk there if necessary. The next day they
started for Pisa. Most of the route lay along the rocky coast of the
Mediterranean through the most beautiful scenery in the world. The road
runs along a shelf on the rocks with many tunnels. And the smoke! Ah,
the smoke! Oh, the smoke! It gets into the eyes, the nose, the mouth,
the ears, over the face and down the back. There is no avoiding it and
no escape is possible. They arrived at Pisa about 11 P. M. and were met
at the hotel by the proprietor with the question: “You would like a
room?” “Yes, two rooms.” A shrug, and then: “I do not know what I shall
do; we have but two rooms; one has three beds and the other four beds.”
“The answer is easy,” said the Professor, “My daughter will take the
room with three beds, I will take the room with four beds.” When they
were escorted to the rooms by the proprietor, the head porter, the maid
and the facchini or porters and the doors were opened on the overflowing
hospitality of seven beds for two travelers, a hearty laugh broke from
every throat; a laugh is the same in all languages.
Pisa is not very inspiring. The famous leaning tower leans because the
foundations were poor, and the Baptistery is built of old tombstones and
other stolen pieces of marble from which the thieves had not decency
enough to chisel away the inscriptions. This thievery seems to have been
a habit in the days which we see through the fogs of romance.
The next day they turned back and retraced their steps for part of the
way to Cecina where they transferred to the road to Volterra. This town
is situated on the frowning heights above the railway station, where a
crowd of people; drivers, porters and others was assembled. The
Professor accosted a hack driver in English. To this there was no reply
but a shrug of the shoulders. Then he tried German, French and Latin in
succession, all in vain. As they were about giving up in despair a voice
from behind them, or from Heaven, said: “You would like to go to
Lardrello? You are interested in boracic acid?”
“I have come all the way from America to see it,” said the Professor,
“so you may judge whether I am interested.” Introductions followed and
cards were exchanged. Their friend was Prince Conti, son-in-law of Count
Lardrello and the manager of the works. He told the driver what was
required; gave him instructions where to take the travelers for the
night and what they would like to eat and promised to meet them at the
works next day. He too, it seemed, had been attending the Congress and
was just returning.
They traveled over a beautiful country covered with olive orchards, with
pale yellowish-green foliage, to a country inn. Here everything was
primitive and old-fashioned to the last degree, but _clean_. There were
tile floors and the beds were of wrought iron in filagree,—beautiful
pieces of workmanship.
Next morning they reached the works in a desolate valley over which
clouds of steam hovered. They were met and welcomed by the Prince who
apologized for not being able to open the Palace for them as the family
were away and the servants dispersed for the summer.
The natural _soffioni_, they discovered, had failed to give a sufficient
yield and were now supplemented by wells sunk as are petroleum wells in
Pennsylvania. One of the new developments had been the striking of steam
at a pressure of sixty pounds in some of the wells. These wells were
capped and the steam led through a boiler containing a purifying agent
to remove the sulfureted hydrogen, after which it was used to run a
steam engine which in turn actuated mills to grind the boracic acid and
borax produced. After going through the works the Prince was good enough
to present the young lady with a bouquet of flowers and they said
good-bye. The use of steam from Mother Earth to run a steam engine was,
the Professor said, an entirely new idea not used, so far as he knew,
anywhere else in the world, and suggested a possible method of keeping
alive in those times we may possibly expect as our fuels disappear. It
may then be necessary to drive deep wells to tap the supply of heat now
lying far below the surface in most places and only reaching through the
crust in a few.
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