ST. PETER'S!--THE TRAGIC STORY OF THE FAT MAN IN THE BALL.--HOW
ANOTHER TRAGEDY NEARLY HAPPENED.--THE WOES OF MEINHERR SCHATT.
Two stately fountains, a colonnade which in spite of faults possesses
unequalled majesty, a vast piazza, enclosing many acres, in whose
immense area puny man dwindles to a dwarf, and in the distance the
unapproachable glories of the greatest of earthly temples--such is the
first view of St. Peter's.
Our party of friends entered the lordly vestibule, and lifting the
heavy mat that hung over the door-way they passed through. There came
a soft air laden with the odor of incense; and strains of music from
one of the side chapels came echoing dreamily down one of the side
aisles. A glare of sunlight flashed in on polished marbles of a
thousand colors that covered pillars, walls, and pavement. The vaulted
ceiling blazed with gold. People strolled to and fro without any
apparent object. They seemed to be promenading. In different places
some peasant women were kneeling.
They walked up the nave. The size of the immense edifice increased
with every step. Arriving under the dome they stood looking up with
boundless astonishment.
They walked round and round. They saw statues which were masterpieces
of genius; sculptures that glowed with immortal beauty; pictures which
had consumed a life-time as they grew up beneath the patient toil of
the mosaic worker. There were altars containing gems equal to a
king's ransom; curious pillars that came down from immemorial ages;
lamps that burn forever.
"This," said the Senator, "is about the first place that has really
come up to my idee of foreign parts. In fact it goes clean beyond it.
I acknowledge its superiority to any thing that America can produce.
But what's the good of it all? If this Government really cared for
the good of the people it would sell out the hull concern, and devote
the proceeds to railways and factories. Then Italy would go ahead as
Providence intended."
"My dear Sir, the people of this country would rise and annihilate
any Government that dared to touch it."
"Shows how debased they have grown. There's no utility in all this.
There couldn't be any really good Gospel preaching here.
"Different people require different modes of worship," said Buttons,
sententiously.
"But it's immense," said the Senator, as they stood at the furthest
end and looked toward the entrance. "I've been calc'latin' that you
could range along this middle aisle about eighteen good-sized
Protestant churches, and eighteen more along the side aisles. You
could pile them up three tiers high. You could stow away twenty-four
more in the cross aisle. After that you could pile up twenty more in
the dome. That would make room here for one hundred and fifty-two,
good-sized Protestant churches, and room enough would be left to
stow away all their spires."
And to show the truth of his calculation he exhibited a piece of paper
on which he had pencilled it all.
If the interior is imposing the ascent to the roof is equally so.
There is a winding path so arranged that mules can go up carrying
loads. Up this they went and reached the roof. Six or seven acres of
territory snatched from the air spread around; statutes rose from the
edge; all around cupolas and pillars rose. In the center the huge dome
itself towered on high. There was a long low building filled with
people who lived up here. They were workmen whose duty it was to
attend to the repairs of the vast structure. Two fountains poured
forth a never-ceasing supply of water. It was difficult to conceive
that this was a roof of a building.
Entering the base of the central cupola a stairway leads up. There is
a door which leads to the interior, where one can walk around a
gallery on the inside of the dome and look down. Further up where
the arch springs there is another. Finally at the apex of the dome
there is a third opening. Looking down through this the sensation
is terrific.
Upon the summit of the vast dome stands an edifice of large size,
which is called the lantern, and appears insignificant in comparison
with the mighty structure beneath. Up this the stairway goes until
at length the opening into the ball is reached.
The whole five climbed up into the ball. They found to their surprise
that it would hold twice as many more. The Senator reached up his
hand. He could not touch the top. They looked through the slits in
the side. The view was boundless; the wide Campagna, the purple
Apennines, the blue Mediterranean, appeared from different sides.
"I feel," said the Senator, "that the conceit is taken out of me.
What is Boston State House to this; or Bunker Hill monument! I
used to see pictures of this place in Woodbridge's Geography; but
I never had a realizing sense of architecture until now."
"This ball," said Buttons, "has its history, its associations. It
has been the scene of suffering. Once a stoutish man came up here.
The guides warned him, but to no purpose. He was a willful
Englishman. You may see, gentlemen, that the opening is narrow. How
the Englishman managed to get up does not appear; but it is certain
that when he tried to get down he found it impossible. He tried for
hours to squeeze through. No use. Hundreds of people came up to help
him. They couldn't. The whole city got into a state of wild
excitement. Some of the churches had prayers offered up for him
though he was a heretic. At the end of three days he tried again.
Fasting and anxiety had come to his relief, and he slipped through
without difficulty."
"He must have been a London swell," said Dick.
"I don't believe a word of it," said Mr. Figgs, looking with an
expression of horror, first at the opening, and then at his own
rotundity. Then springing forward he hurriedly began to descend.
Happy Mr. Figgs! There was no danger for him. But in his eagerness to
get down he did not think of looking below to see if the way was
clear. And so it happened, that as he descended quickly and with
excited haste, he stepped with all his weight upon the hand of a man
who was coming up. The stranger shouted. Mr. Figgs jumped. His foot
slipped. His hand loosened, and down he fell plump to the bottom. Had
he fallen on the floor there is no doubt that he would have sustained
severe injury. Fortunately for himself he fell upon the stranger and
nearly crushed his life out.
The stranger writhed and rolled till he had got rid of his heavy
burden. The two men simultaneously started to their feet. The
stranger was a short stout man with an unmistakable German face. He
had bright blue eyes, red hair, and a forked red beard. He stared
with all his might, stroked his forked red beard piteously, and then
ejaculated most gutturally, in tones that seemed to come from his
boots--
"Gh-h-h-r-r-r-r-r-acious me!"
Mr. Figgs overwhelmed him with apologies, assured him that it was
quite unintentional, hoped that he wasn't hurt, begged his pardon;
but the stranger only panted, and still he stroked his forked red
beard, and still ejaculated--
"Gh-h-h-r-r-r-r-r-acious me!"
Four heads peered through the opening above; but seeing no accident
their owners, one by one, descended, and all with much sympathy asked
the stranger if he was much hurt. But the stranger, who seemed quite
bewildered, still panted and stroked his beard, and ejaculated--
"Gh-h-h-r-r-r-r-r-acious me!"
At length he seemed to recover his faculties, and discovered that he
was not hurt. Upon this he assured Mr. Figgs, in heavy guttural
English, that it was nothing. He had often been knocked down before.
If Mr. Figgs was a Frenchman, he would feel angry. But as he was an
American he was glad to make his acquaintance. He himself had once
lived in America, in Cincinnati, where he had edited a German paper.
His name was Meinherr Schatt.
Meinherr Schatt showed no further disposition to go up; but
descended with the others down as far as the roof, when they went to
the front and stood looking down on the piazza. In the course of
conversation Meinherr Schatt informed them that he belonged to the
Duchy of Saxe Meiningen, that he had been living in Rome about two
years, and liked it about as well as any place that he had seen.
He went every autumn to Paris to speculate on the Bourse, and
generally made enough to keep him for a year. He was acquainted with
all the artists in Rome. Would they like to be introduced to some
of them?
[Illustration: Gracious Me!]
Buttons would be most charmed. He would rather become acquainted
with artists than with any class of people.
Meinherr Schatt lamented deeply the present state of things arising
from the war in Lombardy. A peaceful German traveller was scarcely
safe now. Little boys made faces at him in the street, and shouted
after him, "Mudedetto Tedescho!"
Just at this moment the eye of Buttons was attracted by a carriage
that rolled away from under the front of the cathedral down the
piazza. In it were two ladies and a gentleman. Buttons stared eagerly
for a few moments, and then gave a jump.
"What's the matter?" cried Dick.
"It is! By Jove! It is!"
"What? Who?"
"I see her face! I'm off!"
"Confound it! Whose face?"
But Buttons gave no answer. He was off like the wind, and before the
others could recover from their surprise had vanished down the
descent.
"What upon airth has possessed Buttons now?" asked the Senator.
"It must be the Spanish girl," said Dick.
"Again? Hasn't his mad chase at sea given him a lesson? Spanish
girl! What is he after? If he wants a girl, why can't he wait and
pick out a regular thorough-bred out and outer of Yankee stock?
These Spaniards are not the right sort."
In an incredible short space of time the figure of Buttons was
seen dashing down the piazza, in the direction which the carriage
had taken. But the carriage was far ahead, and even as he left the
church it had already crossed the Ponte di S. Angelo. The others
then descended. Buttons was not seen till the end of the day.
He then made his appearance with a dejected air.
"What luck?" asked Dick, as he came in.
"None at all," said Buttons, gloomily.
"Wrong ones again?"
"No, indeed. I'm not mistaken this time. But I couldn't catch them.
They got out of sight, and kept out too. I've been to every hotel
in the place, but couldn't find them. It's too bad."
"Buttons," said the Senator, gravely, "I'm sorry to see a young man
like you so infatuated. Beware--Buttons--beware of wimmin! Take the
advice of an older and more experienced man. Beware of wimmin.
Whenever you see one coming--dodge! It's your only hope. If it
hadn't been for wimmin"--and the Senator seemed to speak half to
himself, while his face assumed a pensive air--"if it hadn't been
for wimmin, I'd been haranguing the Legislatoor now, instead of
wearying my bones in this benighted and enslaved country."