FEBRUARY 6, 1880--JUNE 15, 1830
Serra Palace in Genoa.--Starts for Rome.--Rain in the mountains.--A
brigand.--Carrara.--First mention of a railroad.--Pisa.--The leaning
tower.--Rome at last.--Begins copying at once.--Notebooks.--Ceremonies at
the Vatican.--Pope Pius VIII.--Academy of St. Luke's.--St Peter's.--
Chiesa Nuova.--Painting at the Vatican.--Beggar monks.--Fata of the
Annunciation.--Soirée at Palazzo Simbaldi.--Passion Sunday.--Horace
Vernet.--Lying in state of a cardinal.--_Miserere_ at Sistine Chapel.--
Holy Thursday at St Peter's.--Third cardinal dies.--Meets Thorwaldsen at
Signor Persianis's.--Manners of English, French, and Americans.--Landi's
pictures.--Funeral of a young girl.--Trip to Tivoli, Subiaco.--Procession
of the _Corpus Domini._--Disagreeable experience.
The enthusiastic artist was now in Italy, the land of his dreams, and his
notebooks are filled with short comments or longer descriptions of
churches, palaces, and pictures in Genoa and in the other towns through
which he passed on his way to Rome, or with pen-pictures of the wild
country through which he and his fellow travellers journeyed.
In Genoa, where he stopped several days, he was delighted with the
palaces and churches, and yet he found material for criticism:--
"The next place of interest was the Serra Palace, now inhabited by one of
that family, who, we understood, was insane. After stopping a moment in
the anteroom, the ceiling of which is painted in fresco by Somnio, we
were ushered into the room called the most splendid in Europe, and, if
carving and gilding and mirrors and chandeliers and costly colors can
make a splendid room, this is certainly that room. The chandeliers and
mirrored sides are so arranged as to create the illusion that the room is
of indefinite extent. To me it appeared, on the whole, tawdry, seeing it
in broad daylight. In the evening, when the chandeliers are lighted, I
have no doubt of its being a most gorgeous exhibition, but, like some
showy belle dressed and painted for evening effect, the daylight turns
her gold into tinsel and her bloom into rouge.
"After having stayed nearly four days in Genoa, and after having made
arrangements with our honest _vetturino_, Dominique, to take us to Rome,
stopping at various places on the way long enough to see them, we retired
late to bed to prepare for our journey in the morning.
"On Wednesday morning, February 10, we rose at five o'clock, and, after
breakfast of coffee, etc., we set out at six on our journey towards
Rome."
I shall not follow them every step of the way, but shall select only the
more personal entries in the diary.
"A little after eleven o'clock we stopped at a single house upon a high
hill overlooking the sea, to breakfast. It has the imposing title of
'Locanda della Gran Bretagna.' We expected little and got less, and had a
specimen of the bad faith of these people. We enquired the price of our
_déjeuner_ before we ordered it, which is always necessary. We were told
one franc each, but after our breakfast, we were told one and a half
each, and no talking with the landlord would alter his determination to
demand his price. There is no remedy for travellers; they must pay or be
delayed.
"At one o'clock we left this hole of a place, where we were more beset
with beggars and spongers than at any place since we had been in Italy."
Stopping overnight at Sestri, they set out again on the 11th at five
o'clock in the morning:--
"It was as dark as the moon, obscured by thick clouds, would allow it to
be, and, as we left the courtyard of the inn, it began to rain violently.
Our road lay over precipitous mountains away from the shore, and the
scenery became wild and grand. As the day dawned we found ourselves in
the midst of stupendous mountains rising in cones from the valleys below.
Deep basins were formed at the bottom by the meeting of the long slopes;
clouds were seen far below us, some wasting away as they sailed over the
steeps, and some gathering denseness as they were detained by the cold,
snowy peaks which shot up beyond. Now and then a winding stream glittered
at the bottom of some deep ravine amidst the darkness around it, and
occasionally a light from the cottage of some peasant glimmered like a
star through the clouds.
"As we labored up the steep ascent little brawling cascades without
number, from the heights far above us, in milky streams, gathering power
from innumerable rills, dashed at our feet, and, passing down through the
artificial passages beneath the road, swept down into the valleys in
torrents, and swelling the rivers, whose broad beds were seen through the
openings, rushed with irresistible power to the sea.
"We found, from the violence of the storm, that the road was heavy and
much injured in some parts by the washing down of rocks from the heights.
Some of great size lay at the sides recently thrown down, and now and
then one of some hundred pounds' weight was found in the middle of the
road.
"We continued to ascend about four hours until we came again from a
region of summer into the region of snow, and the height from the sea was
greater than we had at any time previously attained. The scenery around
us, too, was wilder and more sterile. The Apennines here are very grand,
assuming every variety of shape and color. Long slopes of clay color were
interlocked with dark browns sprinkled with golden yellow; slate blue and
grey, mixed with greens and purples, and the pure, deep ultramarine blue
of distant peaks finished the background."
After breakfasting at Borghetto at a miserable inn, where they were much
annoyed by beggars of all descriptions, they continued their journey
through much the same character of country for the rest of the day, and
towards dark they met with a slight adventure:--
"Our road was down a steep declivity winding much in the same way as at
Finale. Precipices were at the side without a protecting barrier, and we
felt some uneasiness at our situation, which was not decreased by
suddenly finding our coach stopped and a man on horseback (or rather
muleback) stopping by the side of the coach. It was but for a moment; our
_vetturino_ authoritatively ordered him to pass on, which he did with a
_'buona sera_,' and we never parted with a companion more gladly. From
all the circumstances attending it we were inclined to believe that he
had some design upon us, but, finding us so numerous, thought it best not
to run the risk."
Spezia was their resting-place for that night, and, after an early start
the next morning, they reached the banks of the Vara at nine o'clock.
"We had a singular time in passing the river in a boat. Many women of the
lower orders crossed at the same time. The boat being unable to approach
the shore, we were obliged to ride papoose-back upon the shoulders of the
brawny watermen for some little distance; but what amused us much was the
perfect _sang-froid_ with which the women, with their bare legs, held up
their clothes above the knees and waded to the boat before us....
"At half-past twelve we came in sight of Carrara. This place we went out
of our course to see, and at one o'clock entered the celebrated village,
prettily situated in a valley at the base of stupendous mountains. A deep
ravine above the village contains the principal quarries of most
exquisite marbles for which this place has for so many ages been famous.
The clouds obscuring the highest peaks, and ascending from the valleys
like smoke from the craters of many volcanoes, gave additional grandeur
to a scene by nature so grand in itself.
"After stopping at the Hôtel de Nouvelle Paros, which we found a
miserable inn with bad wine, scanty fare and high charges, we took a
hasty breakfast, and procuring a guide we walked out to see the
curiosities of the place. It rained hard and the road was excessively
bad, sometimes almost ankle-deep in mud. Notwithstanding the forbidding
weather and bad road, we labored up the deep ravine on the sides of which
the excavations are made. Dark peaks frowned above us capped with clouds
and snow; white patches midway the sides showed the veins of the marble,
and immense heaps of detritus, the accumulation of ages, mountains
themselves, sloped down on each side like masses of piled ice to the very
edge of the road. The road itself, white with the material of which it is
made, was composed of loose pieces of the white marble of every size....
Continuing the ascent by the side of a milky stream, which rushed down
its rocky bed, and which here and there was diverted off into aqueducts
to the various mills, we were pointed to the top of a high hill by the
roadside where was the entrance to a celebrated grotto, and at the base
close by, a cavern protected a beautiful, clear, crystal fountain, which
gushed from up the bottom forming a liquid, transparent floor, and then
glided to mingle its pure, unsullied waters with the cloudy stream that
rushed by it.
"Climbing over piles of rock like refined sugar and passing several
wagons carrying heavy blocks down the road, we arrived at the mouth of
the principal quarry where the purest statuary marble is obtained. I
could not but think how many exquisite statues here lay entombed for
ages, till genius, at various times, called them from their slumbers and
bid them live....
"On our return we again passed the wagons laden with blocks, and mules
with slabs on each side sometimes like the roof of a house over the
mule.... The wagons and oxen deserve notice. The former are very badly
constructed; they are strong, but the wheels are small, in diameter about
two feet and but about three inches wide, so sharp that the roads must
suffer from them. The oxen are small and, without exception,
mouse-colored. The driver, and there is usually one to each pair, sits on
the yoke between them, and, like the oarsman of a boat, with his back
towards the point towards which he is going. Two huge blocks were chained
upon one of these wagons, and behind, dragging upon the ground by a chain,
was another. Three yoke of these small oxen, apparently without fatigue,
drew the load thus constructed over this wretched road. An enterprising
company of Americans or English, by the construction of a railroad, which
is more practicable than a canal, but which latter might be constructed,
would, I should think, give great activity to the operations here and
make it very profitable to themselves."
It is rather curious to note that this is the first mention of a railroad
made by Morse in his notes or letters, although he was evidently aware of
the experiments which were being made at that time both in Europe and
America, and these must have been of great interest to him. It is also
well to bear in mind that the great development of transportation by rail
could not occur until the invention of the telegraph had made it possible
to send signals ahead, and, in other ways, to control the movement of
traffic. At the present day the railroad at Carrara, which Morse saw in
his visions of the future, has been built, but the ox teams are also
still used, and linger as a reminder of more primitive days.
Continuing their journey, the travellers spent the night at Lucca, and in
the morning explored the town, which they found most interesting as well
as neat and clean. Leaving Lucca, "with much reluctance," on the 18th,
the journal continues:--
"At half-past five, at sunset, Pisa with its leaning tower (the _duomo_
of the cathedral and that of the baptistery being the principal objects
in the view), was seen across the plain before us. Towards the west was a
long line of horizon, unbroken, except here and there by a low-roofed
tower or the little pyramidal spire of a village church. To the southeast
the plain stretched away to the base of distant blue mountains, and to
the east and the north the rude peaks through which we had travelled,
their cold tops tinged with a warmer glow, glittered beyond the deep
brown slopes, which were more advanced and confining the plain to
narrower limits."
They found the Hôtel Royal de l'Hussar an excellent inn, and, the next
day being Sunday, they attended an English service and heard an excellent
sermon by the Reverend Mr. Ford, an Englishman.
"In the evening we walked to the famous leaning tower, the cathedral, the
baptistery, and Campo Santo, which are clustered together in the northern
part of the city. In going there we went some distance along the quay,
which was filled with carriages and pedestrians, among whom were many
masques and fancy dresses of the most grotesque kind. It is the season of
Carnival, and all these fooleries are permitted at this time. We merely
glanced at the exterior of the celebrated buildings, leaving till
to-morrow a more thorough examination."
"_Monday, February 16._ We rose early and went again to the leaning tower
and its associated buildings. The tower, which is the _campanile_ of the
cathedral and is about one hundred and ninety feet high, leans from its
perpendicular thirteen feet. We ascended to the top by a winding
staircase. One ascending feels the inclination every step he takes, and,
when he reaches the top and perceives that that which should be
horizontal is an inclined plane, the sensation is truly startling. It is
difficult to persuade one's self that the tower is not actually falling,
and I could not but imagine at intervals that it moved, reasoning myself
momentarily into security from the fact that it had thus stood for ages.
I could not but recur also to the fact that once it stood upright; that,
although ages had been passed in assuming its present inclination to the
earth, the time would probably come when it would actually fall, and the
idea would suggest itself with appalling force that that time might be
now. The reflection suggested by one of our company that it would be a
glorious death, for one thus perishing would be sure of an imperishable
name, however pleasing in romantic speculation, had no great power to
dispel the shrinking fear produced by the vivid thought of the
possibility when on the top of the tower.... The _campanile_ is not the
only leaning tower in Pisa. We observed that several varied from the
perpendicular, and the sides of many of the buildings, even parts of the
cathedral and the baptistery, inclined at a considerable angle. The soil
is evidently unfavorable to the erection of high, heavy buildings."
After a side trip to Leghorn and further loitering along the way,
stopping but a short time in Florence, which he purposed to visit and
study at his leisure later on, he saw, at nine o'clock on the morning of
February 20, the dome of St. Peter's in the distance, and, at two o'clock
he and his companions entered Rome through the Porta del Popolo.
Taking lodgings at No. 17 Via de Prefetti, he spent the first few days in
a cursory examination of the treasures by which he was surrounded, but he
was eager to begin at once the work for which he had received
commissions, and on March 7 he writes home:--
"I have begun to copy the 'School of Athens' from Raphael for Mr. R.
Donaldson. The original is on the walls of one of the celebrated Camera
of Raphael in the Vatican. It is in fresco and occupies one entire side
of the room. It is a difficult picture to copy and will occupy five or
six weeks certainly. Every moment of my time, from early in the morning
until late at night, when not in the Vatican, is occupied in seeing the
exhaustless stores of curiosities in art and antiquities with which this
wonderful city abounds.
"I find I can endure great fatigue, and my spirits are good, and I feel
strong for the pleasant duties of my profession. I feel particularly
anxious that every gentleman who has given me a commission shall be more
than satisfied that he has received an equivalent for the sum generously
advanced to me. But I find that, to accomplish this, I shall need all my
strength and time for more than a year to come, and that will be little
enough to do myself and them justice. I am delighted with my situation
and more than ever convinced of the wisdom of my course in coming to
Italy."
Morse's little notebooks and sketch-books are filled with short, abrupt
notes on the paintings, religious ceremonies, and other objects of
interest by which he is surrounded, but sometimes he goes more into
detail. I shall select from these voluminous notes only those which seem
to me to be of the greatest interest.
"_March 17._ Mr. Fenimore Cooper and family are here. I have passed many
pleasant hours with them, particularly one beautiful moonlight evening
visiting the Coliseum. After the Holy Week I shall visit Naples, probably
with Mr. Theodore Woolsey, who is now in Rome.
"_March 18._ Ceremonies at the Consistory; delivery of the cardinals'
hats. At nine o'clock went to the Vatican; two large fantails with
ostrich feathers; ladies penned up; Pope; cardinals kiss his hand in
rotation; address in Latin, tinkling, like water gurgling from a bottle.
The English cardinal first appeared, went up and was embraced and kissed
on each cheek by the Pope; then followed the others in the same manner;
then each new cardinal embraced in succession all the other cardinals;
after this, beginning with the English cardinal, each went to the Pope,
and he, putting on their heads the cardinal's hat, blessed them in the
name of the Trinity. They then kissed the ring on his hand and his toe
and retired from the throne. The Pope then rose, blessed the assembly by
making the sign of the cross three times in the air with his two fingers,
and left the room. His dress was a plain mitre of gold tissue, a rich,
garment of gold and crimson, embroidered, a splendid clasp of gold, about
six inches long by four wide, set with precious stones, upon his breast.
He is very decrepit, limping or tottering along, has a defect in one eye,
and his countenance has an expression of pain, especially as the new
cardinals approached his toe.[1]
[Footnote 1: This was Pope Pius VIII.]
"The cardinals followed the Pope two and two with their train-bearers.
After a few minutes the doors opened again and a procession, headed by
singers, entered chanting as they went. The cardinals followed them with
their train-bearers; they passed through the Consistory, and thus closed
the ceremony of presenting the cardinals' hats.
"A multitude of attendants, in various costumes, surrounded the pontiff's
throne during the ceremony, among whom was Bishop Dubois of New York....
"Academy of St. Luke's: Raphael's skull; Harlow's picture of the making
of a cardinal; said to have been painted in twelve days; I don't believe
it. 'The Angels appearing to the Shepherds,' by Bassan--good for color;
much trash in the way of portraits. Lower rooms contain the pictures for
the premiums; some good; all badly colored. Third Room: Bas-reliefs for
the premiums. Fourth Room: Smaller premium pictures; bad. Fifth Room:
Drawings; the oldest best, modern bad.
"_Friday, March 19._ We went to St. Peter's to see the procession of
cardinals singing in the Capella. Cardinals walked two and two through
St. Peter's, knelt on purple velvet cushions before the Capella in
prayer, then successively kissed the toe of the bronze image of St. Peter
as they walked past it.
"This statue of St. Peter, as a work of art, is as execrable as possible.
Part of the toe and foot is worn away and polished, not by the kisses,
but by the wiping of the foot after the kisses by the next comer
preparatory to kissing it; sometimes with the coat-sleeve by a beggar;
with the corner of the cloak by the gentlemen; the shawl by the females;
and with a nice cambric handkerchief by the attendant at the ceremony,
who wiped the toe after each cardinal's performance. This ceremony is
variously performed. Some give it a single kiss and go away; others kiss
the toe and then touch the forehead to it and kiss the toe again,
repeating the operation three times."
The ceremonies and ritual of the Roman Catholic Church, while appealing
to the eye of the artist, were repugnant to his Puritan upbringing, and
we find many scornful remarks among his notes. In fact he was, all his
life, bitterly opposed to the doctrines of Rome, and in later years, as
we shall see, he entered into a heated controversy with a prominent
ecclesiastic of that faith in America.
"_March 21._ Chiesa Nuova at seven o'clock in the evening; a sacred opera
called 'The Death of Aaron.' Church dark; women not admitted; bell rings
and a priest before the altar chants a prayer, after which a boy, about
twelve years old apparently, addresses the assembly from the pulpit. I
know not the drift of his discourse, but his utterance was like the same
gurgling process which I noticed in the orator who addressed the Pope. It
was precisely like the fitful tone of the Oneida interpreter.
"_Tuesday, March 23._ At the Vatican all the morning. While preparing my
palette a monk, decently habited for a monk, who seemed to have come to
the Vatican for the purpose of viewing the pictures, after a little time
approached me and, with a very polite bow, offered me a pinch of snuff,
which, of course, I took, bowing in return, when he instantly asked me
alms. I gave him a _bajocco_ for which he seemed very grateful. Truly
this is a nation of beggars.
"_Wednesday, March 24._ Vatican all the morning. Saw in returning a great
number of priests with a white bag over the left shoulder and begging of
the persons they met. This is another instance of begging and robbing
confined to one class.
"_Thursday, March 25._ _Festa_ of the Annunciation; Vatican shut. Doors
open at eight of the Chiesa di Minerva; obtained a good place for seeing
the ceremony. At half-past nine the cardinals began to assemble; Cardinal
Barberini officiated in robes, white embroidered with gold; singing;
taking off and putting on mitres, etc.; jumping up and bowing; kissing
the ring on the finger of the cardinal; putting incense into censers;
monotonous reading, or rather whining, of a few lines of prayer in Latin;
flirting censers at each cardinal in succession; cardinals bowing to one
another; many attendants at the altar; cardinals embrace one another;
after mass a contribution among the cardinals in rich silver plate. Enter
the virgins in white, with crowns, two and two, and candles; they kiss
the hem of the garment of one of the cardinals; they are accompanied by
three officers and exit. Cardinals' dresses exquisitely plaited;
sixty-two cardinals in attendance....
"Palazzo Simbaldi: At half-past eight the company began to assemble in
the splendid saloon of this palace, to which I was invited. The singers,
about forty in number, were upon a stage erected at the end of the room;
white drapery hung behind festoons with laurel wreaths (the walls were
painted in fresco). Four female statues standing on globes upheld seven
long wax-lights; the instrumental musicians, about forty, were arranged
at the foot of these statues; _sala_ was lighted principally by six glass
chandeliers; much female beauty in the room; dresses very various.
"Signora Luigia Tardi sang with much judgment and was received with great
applause. A little girl, apparently about twelve years old, played upon
the harp in a most exquisite manner, and called forth _bravas_ of the
Italians and of the foreigners bountifully.
"The manners of the audience were the same as those of fashionable
society in our own country, and indeed in any other country; the display
in dress, however, less tasteful than I have seen in New York. But, in
truth, I have not seen more beauty and taste in any country, combined
with cultivation of mind and delicacy of manner, than in our own. At one
o'clock in the morning, or half-past six Italian time, the concert was
over.
"_Saturday, March 27._ On returning to dinner I found at the post-office,
to my great joy, the first letter from America since I left it.
"_Sunday, March 28._ Passion Sunday. Kept awake nearly all last night by
a severe toothache; sent for a dentist and had the tooth extracted, for
which he had the conscience to ask me three dollars--he took two. Was
prevented by this circumstance from going to church this morning; went in
the afternoon, and, after church, to St. Peter's; found all the crosses
covered with black and all the pictures veiled. There were a great many
in the church to hear the music which is considered very fine; some of it
I was well pleased with, but it is by no means so impressive as the
singing of the nuns at the Trinita di Monti, to which church we repaired
at vespers.
"In St. Peter's we found a procession of about forty nuns; some of them
were very pretty and their neat white headdresses, and kerchiefs, and
hair dressed plain, gave a pleasing simplicity to their countenances.
Some, looked arch enough and far from serious.
"_Monday, March 29._ Early this morning was introduced to the Chevalier
Horace Vernet, principal of the French Academy; found him in the
beautiful gardens of the Academy. He came in a _négligé_ dress, a cap, or
rather turban, of various colors, a parti-colored belt, and a cloak. He
received me kindly, walked through the antique gallery of casts, a long
room and a splendid collection selected with great judgment.
"_Wednesday, March 31._ Early this morning was waked by the roar of a
cannon; learned that it was the anniversary of the present Pope's
election. Went to the Vatican; the colonnade was filled with the
carriages of the cardinals; that of the new English cardinal, Weld, was
the most showy.
"_Thursday, April 1._ Went in the evening to the soirée of the Chevalier
Vernet, director of the French Academy. He is a gentleman of elegant
manners and sees at his soirées the first society in Rome. His wife is
highly accomplished and his daughter is a beautiful girl, full of
vivacity, and speaks English fluently.... During the evening there was
music; his daughter played on the piano and others sang. There was chess,
and, at a sideboard, a few played cards. The style was simple, every one
at ease like our soirées in America. Several noblemen and dignitaries of
the Church were present."
On April 4, Palm Sunday, he attended the services at the Sistine Chapel,
which he found rather tedious, with much mummery. Going from there to the
cancellerie he describes the following scene:--
"Cardinal Giulio Maria della Somaglia in state on an elevated bed of
cloth-of-gold and black embroidered with gold, his head on a black velvet
cushion embroidered with gold, dressed in his robes as when alive. He
officiated, I was told, on Ash Wednesday. Four wax-lights, two on each
side of the bed; great throng of people of all grades through the suite
of apartments--the cancellerie--in which he lived; they were very
splendid, chiefly of crimson and gold. The cardinal has died unpopular,
for he has left nothing to his servants by his will; he directed,
however, that no expense should be spared in his funeral, wishing that it
might be splendid, but, unfortunately for him, he has died precisely at
that season of the year (the Holy Week) when alone it is impossible,
according to the church customs, to give him a splendid burial."
"_Wednesday, April 7._ Went to the Piazza Navone, being market-day, in
search of prints. The scene here is very amusing; the variety of wares
exposed, and the confusion of noises and tongues, and now and then a
jackass swelling the chorus with his most exquisite tones.
"At three o'clock went to St. Peter's to see ceremonies at the Sistine
Chapel. Cardinals asleep; monotonous bawling, long and tedious; candles
put out one by one, fifteen in number; no ceremonies at the altar;
cardinals present nineteen in number; seven yawns from the cardinals;
tiresome and monotonous beyond description.
"After three hours of this most tiresome chant, all the candles having
been extinguished, the celebrated _Miserere_ commenced. It is, indeed,
sublime, but I think loses much of its effect from the fatigue of body,
and mind, too, in which it is heard by the auditors. The _Miserere_ is
the composition of the celebrated Allegri, and for giving the effect of
wailing and lamentation, without injury to harmony, it is one of the most
perfect of compositions. The manner of sustaining a strain of concord by
new voices, now swelling high, now gradually dying away, now sliding
imperceptibly into discord and suddenly breaking into harmony, is
admirable. The imagination is alive and fancies thousands of people in
the deepest contrition. It closed by the cardinals clapping their hands
for the earthquake."
On April 8 (Holy Thursday), Morse went early with Mr. Fenimore Cooper and
other Americans to St. Peter's. After describing some of the preliminary
ceremonies he continues:--
"Having examined the splendid chair in which he was to be borne, and
while he was robing in another apartment, we found that, although we
might have a complete view of the Pope and the ceremonies before and
after the benediction, yet the principal effect was to be seen below. We
therefore left our place at the balcony, where we could see nothing but
the crowd, and hastened below. On passing into the hall we were so
fortunate as to be just in season for the procession from the Sistine
Chapel to the Pauline. The cardinals walked in procession, two and two,
and one bore the host, while eight bearers held over him a rich canopy of
silver tissue embroidered with gold.
"Thence we hastened to the front of St. Peter's, where, in the centre
upon the highest step, we had an excellent view of the balcony, and,
turning round, could see the immense crowd which had assembled in the
piazza and the splendid square of troops which were drawn up before the
steps of the church. Here I had scarcely time to make a hasty sketch, in
the broiling sun, of the window and its decorations, before the
precursors of the Pope, the two large feather fans, made their appearance
on each side of the balcony, which was decorated with crimson and gold,
and immediately after the Pope, with his mitre of gold tissue and his
splendid robes of gold and jewels, was borne forward, relieving finely
from the deep crimson darkness behind him. He made the usual sign of
blessing, with his two fingers raised. A book was then held before him in
which he read, with much motion of his head, for a minute. He then rose,
extending both his arms--this was the benediction--while at the same
moment the soldiers and crowd all knelt; the cannon from the Castle of
St. Angelo was discharged, and the bells in all the churches rang a
simultaneous peal.
"The effect was exceedingly grand, the most imposing of all the
ceremonies I have witnessed. The Pope was then borne back again. Two
papers were thrown from the balcony for which there was a great scramble
among the crowd."
On Friday, April 9 (Good Friday), many of the ceremonies so familiar to
visitors to Rome during Holy Week are described at length in the
notebooks, but I shall omit most of these. The following note, however,
seems worthy of being recorded:--
"On our way to St. Peter's I ought to have noticed our visit to a palace
in which another cardinal (the third who has died within a few days) was
lying in state--Cardinal Bertazzoli.
"It is a singular fact, of which I was informed, that about the same time
last year three cardinals died, and that it was a common remark that when
one died two more soon followed, and the Pope always created three
cardinals at a time."
"_Friday, April 16._ At the Vatican all day. I went to the soirée of the
Signor Persianis in the evening. Here I had the pleasure of meeting for
the first line with the Chevalier Thorwaldsen, the great Danish sculptor,
the first now living. He is an old man in appearance having a profusion
of grey hair, wildly hanging over his forehead and ears. His face has a
strong Northern character, his eyes are light grey, and his complexion
sandy; he is a large man of perfectly unassuming manners and of most
amiable deportment. Daily receiving homage from all the potentates of
Europe, he is still without the least appearance of ostentation. He
readily assented to a request to sit for his portrait which I hope soon
to take.
"_Tuesday, April 27._ My birthday. How time flies and to how little
purpose have I lived!!
"_Wednesday, April 28._ I have noticed a difference in manners between
the English, French, and Americans. If you are at the house of a friend
and should happen to meet Englishmen who are strangers to you, no
introduction takes place unless specially requested. The most perfect
indifference is shown towards you by these strangers, quite as much as
towards a chair or table. Should you venture a word in the general
conversation, they might or might not, as the case may be, take notice of
it casually, but coldly and distantly, and even if they should so far
relax as to hold a conversation with you through the evening, the moment
they rise to go all recognition ceases; they will take leave of every one
else, but as soon think of bowing to the chair they had left as to you.
"A Frenchman, on the contrary, respectfully salutes all in the room,
friends and strangers alike. He seems to take it for granted that the
friends of his friend are at least entitled to respect if not to
confidence, and without reserve he freely enters into conversation with
you, and, when he goes, he salutes all alike, but no acquaintance ensues.
"An American carries his civility one step further; if he meets you
afterwards, in other company, the fact that he has seen you at this
friend's and had an agreeable chit-chat is introduction enough, and,
unless there is something _peculiar_ in your case, he will ever after
know you and be your friend. This is not the case with the two former.
"The American is in this, perhaps, too unsuspicious and the others may
have good reasons for their mode, but that of the Americans has more of
generous sincerity and frankness and kindness in it.
"_Friday, April 30._ Painting all day except two hours at the Colonna
Palace--Landi's pictures--horrible!! How I was disappointed. I had heard
Landi, the Chevalier Landi, lauded to the skies by the Italians as the
greatest modern colorist. He was made a chevalier, elected a member of
the Academy at Florence and of the Academy of St. Luke in Rome, and there
were his pictures which I was told I must by all means see. They are not
merely bad, they are execrable. There is not a redeeming point in a
single picture that I saw, not one that would have placed him on a level
with the commonest sign-painter in America. His largest work in his rooms
at present is the 'Departure of Mary Queen of Scots from Paris.' The
story is not told; the figures are not grouped but huddled together; they
are not well-drawn individually; the character is vulgar and tame; there
is no taste in the disposal of the drapery and ornaments, no effect of
_chiaroscuro._ It is flimsy and misty, and, as to color, the quality to
which I was specially directed, if total disregard of arrangement, if the
scattering of tawdry reds and blues and yellows over the picture, all
quarrelling for the precedence; if leather complexions varied by those of
chalk, without truth or depth or tone, constitute good color, then are
they finely colored. But, if Landi is a colorist, then are Titian and
Veronese never more to be admired. In short, I have never met with the
works of an artist who had a name like Landi's so utterly destitute of
even the shadow of merit. There is but one word which can express their
character, they are _execrable!_
"It is astonishing that with such works of the old masters before them as
the Italians have, they should not perceive the defects of their own
painters in this particular. Cammuccini is the only one among them who
possesses genius in the higher departments, and he only in drawing; his
color is very bad.
"A funeral procession passed the house to-day. On the bier, exposed as is
customary here, was a beautiful young girl, apparently of fifteen,
dressed in rich laces and satins embroidered with gold and silver and
flowers tastefully arranged, and sprinkled also with real flowers, and at
her head was placed a coronet of flowers. She had more the appearance of
sleep than of death. No relative appeared near her; the whole seemed to
be conducted by the priests and monks and those hideous objects in white
hoods, with faces covered except two holes for the eyes."
In early May, Morse, in company with other artists, went on a sketching
trip to Tivoli, Subiaco, Vico, and Vara. This must have been one of the
happiest periods of his life. He was in Italy, the cradle of the art he
loved; he was surrounded by beauty, both natural and that wrought by the
hand of man; he had daily intercourse with congenial souls, and home,
with its cares and struggles, seemed far away. His notebooks are largely
filled with simple descriptions of the places visited, but now and then
he indulges in rhapsody. At Subiaco he comes upon this scene:--
"Upon a solitary seat (a fit place for meditation and study), by a gate
which shut the part of the terrace near the convent from that which goes
round the hill, sat a monk with his book. He seemed no further disturbed
by my passing than to give me the usual salutation.
"I stopped at a little distance from him to look around and down into the
chasm below. It was enchanting in spite of the atmosphere of the sirocco.
The hills covered with woods, at a distance, reminded me of my own
country, fresh and variegated; the high peaks beyond were grey from
distance, and the sides of the nearer mountains were marked with many a
winding track, down one of which a shepherd and his sheep were
descending, looking like a moving pathway. No noise disturbed the silence
but the distant barking of the shepherd's dog (as he, like a busy
marshal, kept the order of his procession unbroken) mixing with the faint
murmuring of the waterfall and the song of the birds that inhabited the
ilex grove. It was altogether a place suited to meditation, and, were it
consistent with those duties which man owes his fellow man, here would be
the spot to which one, fond of study and averse to the noise and bustle
of the world, would love to retire."
Returning to Rome on June 3, after enjoying to the full this excursion,
from which he brought back many sketches, he found the city given over to
ceremony after ceremony connected with the Church. Saint's day followed
saint's day, each with its appropriate (or, from the point of view of the
New Englander, inappropriate) pageant; or some new church was dedicated
and the nights made brilliant with wonderful pyrotechnical displays. He
went often with pleasure to the Trinita di Monti, where the beautiful
singing of the nuns gave him special pleasure.
Commenting sarcastically on a display of fireworks in honor of St.
Francesco Caracciolo, he says:--
"As far as whizzing serpents, wheels, port-fires, rockets, and other
varieties of pyrotechnic art could set forth the humility of the saint,
it was this night brilliantly displayed."
And again, in describing the procession of the _Corpus Domini_, "the most
splendid of all the church ceremonies," it is this which particularly
impresses him:--
"Next came monks of the Franciscan and Capuchin orders, with their brown
dresses and heads shaved and such a set of human faces I never beheld.
They seemed, many of them, like disinterred corpses, for a moment
reanimated to go through this ceremony, and then to sink back again into
their profound sleep. Pale and haggard and unearthly, the wild eye of the
visionary and the stupid stare of the idiot were seen among them, and it
needed no stretch of the imagination to find in most the expression of
the worst passions of our nature. They chanted as they went, their
sepulchral voices echoing through the vaulted piazza, while the bell of
St. Peter's, tolling a deep bass drone, seemed a fitting accompaniment
for their hymns."
Later, on this same day, while watching a part of the ceremonies on the
Gorso, he has this rather disagreeable experience:--
"I was standing close to the side of the house when, in an instant,
without the slightest notice, my hat was struck off to the distance of
several yards by a soldier, or rather a poltroon in a soldier's costume,
and this courteous manoeuvre was performed with his gun and bayonet,
accompanied with curses and taunts and the expression of a demon in his
countenance.
"In cases like this there is no redress. The soldier receives his orders
to see that all hats are off in this religion of force, and the manner is
left to his discretion. If he is a brute, as was the case in this
instance, he may strike it off; or, as in some other instances, if the
soldier be a gentleman, he may ask to have it taken off. There was no
excuse for this outrage on all decency, to which every foreigner is
liable and which is not of infrequent occurrence. The blame lies after
all, not so much with the pitiful wretch who perpetrates this outrage, as
it does with those who gave him such base and indiscriminate orders."