“Constantino Brumidi, the artist, died yesterday morning at his
residence, 921 G Street, at 6:30 o’clock. For months past he has been
failing, but until within two weeks has been able to work every day in
his studio, and was dressed and sat up each day until the one preceding
his death. For a fortnight he has been failing rapidly. The last
twenty-four hours before his death he was unconscious, but at the last
moment he recognized those around him. The funeral will be attended from
the house on Saturday. Mr. Brumidi leaves no family in this city except
an adopted son, who bears his name and has adopted his father’s
profession.
“Almost until the last hour he continued his work on the frescoes in the
dome of the Capitol, though compelled to sit instead of standing, his
hand and eye were as true and strong as ever, and the work from that
point on shows no loss in spirit or excellence of execution. For months
the little scaffold that clings to the wall in mid air under the dome of
the Capitol has been deserted, and curious strangers, looking at the
neglected cartoons hanging over the railings have been told that Brumidi
would never come back to finish his frescoes. It was the dream of his
life that he should come back. He wanted with his own hand to lead that
historic procession round the dome till the encircling frieze should be
complete. Of late, as growing infirmities have pressed upon him, he has
gradually abandoned the hope and occupied himself in enlarging his
original cartoons to working size, so that any artist might complete the
work by simply following copy.--He lies in the pleasant parlor studio of
his house, in death as in life, with his work about him. Half-finished
designs are sketched on the walls, and busts and statuettes fill the
corners; canvas and palette are on the easel.”
In the Senate of the United States on February 24, 1880, four days after
the burial of Brumidi, two speeches were made in reference to the
artist, one by Senator Voorhees of Indiana, and another by Senator
Morrill of Vermont. Senator Voorhees eulogized Brumidi in this manner:
“May I not be pardoned some brief mention of the wonderful genius, so
long, so gently, and so beautifully associated with this Capitol? He
died poor, without money enough to bury his worn-out body, but how rich
the inheritance he has left to the present and succeeding ages! During
more than a quarter of a century he hovered along these walls from the
basement to the Dome, leaving creations of imperishable beauty wherever
his touch has been. Wherever he paused by a panel, or was seen suspended
to a ceiling, there soon appeared the brilliant conceptions of his
fertile and cultivated mind. We can form no correct idea of the extent,
the variety, and the perfection of his taste and skill as an artist
without sometimes forgetting our pressing cares, as we look in detail
over his field of labor.”
Senator Morrill spoke of the artist in these words of friendship and
understanding:
“Covering as he has done so much space with his fresco paintings--so
difficult and so durable--it is wonderful that so great a part should be
fairly excellent and so little that
[Illustration: BRUMIDI STAIRWAY
So long has the name Brumidi been associated with the lovely cherubs
about the Capitol Building that even this bronze staircase has come to
be called a “Brumidi Stairway.” Two such Brumidi stairways lead from the
House Chamber and two from the Senate Chamber. Hazelton wrote in 1897,
“Brumidi made the attractive designs of the eagle, deer, and cherubs for
all the railings upon paper; they were modeled by Baudin and cast in
Philadelphia.” Mr. Baudin wrote from Philadelphia to Captain Meigs in
1857, “...I am waiting for the drawings for the stair rail....”]
competent critics esteem otherwise. If he has not attempted the
ambitious role of the old masters on the walls and ceilings of churches,
it may be at least said that his hand has rarely touched anything which
it has not decorated. Even after that accident by which his life hung
many minutes fearfully imperiled under the Dome of the Capitol, his
latest work there, unfinished though it be, shows that his hand had not
lost its cunning, and his acquaintance with American history and skill
in its portrayal has, perhaps, never been more happily displayed.
“Those who have, without any special intimacy, barely seen this poor and
quiet old man as he slowly passed and repassed to his daily tasks or who
have but for a moment listened to his speech in broken English, and
never heard his glib tongue when he met those with whom he could
converse in his native language, will hardly comprehend his merits as a
severe student in the art to which he had devoted his whole life, still
less will they be inclined to credit the rapid and correct drawing of
which he was undoubtedly a master; but the evidences of his rare genius
and of swift work are too conspicuous to be denied. We have only to look
around to behold them all.
“Brumidi was a diligent reader of Dante, of Gibbon, of Bancroft, and
many other works from which he derived his historical and classical aid
and his great desire was that he might live to complete his last great
work. So long had he devoted his heart and strength to this Capitol that
his love and reverence for it was not surpassed by even that of Michael
Angelo for St. Peter’s.”
[Illustration]