here for a long time, with profit to himself. Thus Sir William Hamilton
has contrived highly to enjoy a long residence in this city, and now,
in the evening of his life, is reaping the fruits of it. The rooms
which he has had furnished in the English style, are most delightful,
and the view from the corner room, perhaps, unique. Below you is the
sea, with a view of Capri, Posilippo on the right, with the promenade
of Villa Real between you and the grotto; on the left an ancient
building belonging to the Jesuits, and beyond it the coast stretching
from Sorrento to Cape Minerva. Another prospect equal to this is
scarcely to be found in Europe,--at least, not in the centre of a great
and populous city.
Hamilton is a person of universal taste, and after having wandered
through the whole realm of creation, has found rest at last in a most
beautiful wife, a masterpiece of the great artist--Nature.
And now after all this, and a hundred-fold more of enjoyment, the
sirens from over the sea are beckoning me; and if the wind is
favorable, I shall start at the same time with this letter,--it for
the north, I for the south. The human mind will not be confined to any
limits--I especially require breadth and extent in an eminent degree;
however, I must content myself on this occasion with, a rapid survey,
and must not think of a long fixed look. If by hearing and thinking, I
can only attain to as much of any object as a finger's tip, I shall be
able to make out the whole hand.
Singularly enough, within these few days, a friend has spoken to me
of _Wilhelm Meister_, and urged me to continue it. In this climate, I
don't think it possible; however, something of the air of this heaven
may, perhaps, be imparted to the closing books. May my existence only
unfold itself sufficiently to lengthen the stem, and to produce richer
and finer flowers; certainly it were better for me never to have come
here at all, than to go away unregenerated.
* * * * *
_Naples, March_ 22, 1787.
Yesterday we saw a picture of Correggio's, which is for sale. It is
not, indeed, in very good preservation; however, it still retains the
happiest stamp possible of all the peculiar charms of this painter. It
represents a Madonna, with the infant, hesitating between the breast
and some pears which an angel is offering it; the subject, therefore,
is the weaning of Christ. To me the idea appears extremely tender; the
composition easy and natural, and happily and charmingly executed. It
immediately reminded me of the Vow of S. Catherine, and, in my opinion,
the painting is unquestionably from the hand of Correggio.
* * * * *
_Naples, Friday, March_ 23, 1787.
The terms of my engagement with Kniep are now settled, and it has
commenced in a right practical way. We went together to Pæstuin, where,
and also on our journey thither and back, he showed the greatest
industry with his pencil. He has taken some of the most glorious
outlines possible. He seems to relish this moving but busy sort of
life, which has called for a talent which he was scarcely conscious of.
This comes of being resolute: but it is exactly here that his accurate
and nice skill shows itself. He never stops to surround the paper on
which he is about to draw with the usual rectangular lines; however, he
seems to take as much pleasure in cutting points to his pencil, which
is of the best English lead, as in drawing itself. Thus his outlines
are just what one would wish them to be.
[Sidenote: Naples--A sketching excursion.]
Now we have come to the following arrangement:--From this clay forward,
we are to live and travel together; while he is to have nothing to
trouble himself about but drawing, as he has done for the last few days.
All the sketches are to be mine; but in order to a further profit,
after our return, from our connexion, he is to finish for a certain sum
a number of them, which I am to select; and then, remuneration for the
others is to be settled according to the dexterity he evinces in them,
and the importance of the views taken, and other considerations. This
arrangement has made me quite happy, and now at last I can give you an
account of our journey.
Sitting in a light two-wheeled carriage, and driving in turn, with a
rough good-natured boy behind, we rolled through the glorious country,
which Kniep greeted with a true artistic eye. We now reached the
mountain stream, which, running along a smooth artificial channel,
skirts most delightful rocks and woods. At last, in the district of
_Alla Cava_, Kniep could not contain himself, but set to work to fix
on paper a splendid mountain, which right before us stood out boldly
against the blue sky, and with a clever and characteristic touch drew
the outlines of the summit, with the sides also, down to its very base.
We both made merry with it, as the earnest of our contract.
A similar sketch was taken in the evening from the window, of a
singularly lovely and rich country, which passes all my powers of
description. Who would not have been disposed to study at such a spot,
in those bright times, when a high school of art was flourishing?
Very early in the morning we set off by an untrodden path, coming
occasionally on marshy spots towards two beautifully shaped hills. We
crossed brooks and pools, where the wild bulls, like hippopotamuses,
were wallowing, and looking upon us with their wild red eyes.
The country grew flatter and more desolate; the scarcity of the
buildings bespoke a sparing cultivation. At last, when we were doubting
whether we were passing through rocks or ruins, some great oblong
masses enabled us to distinguish the remains of temples and other
monuments of a once splendid city. Kniep, who had already sketched on
the way the two picturesque limestone hills, suddenly stopped to find
a spot from which to seize and exhibit the peculiarity of this most
unpicturesque region.
A countryman, whom I took for my guide, led me the meanwhile
through the buildings. The first sight of them excited nothing but
astonishment. I found myself in a perfectly strange world; for, as
centuries pass from the severe to the pleasing, they form man's taste
at the same time--indeed, create him after the same law. But now our
eyes, and through them our whole inner being, has been used to, and
decidedly prepossessed in favor of, a lighter style of architecture;
so that these crowded masses of stumpy conical pillars appear heavy,
not to say frightful. But I soon recollected myself, called to mind
the history of art, thought of the times when the spirit of the age
was in unison with this style of architecture, and realised the severe
style of sculpture; and in less than an hour found myself reconciled
to it,--nay, I went so far as to thank my genius for permitting me to
see with my own eyes such well-preserved remains, since drawings give
us no true idea of them; for, in architectural sketches, they seem more
elegant, and in perspective views even more stumpy than they actually
are. It is only by going round them, and passing through them, that
you can impart to them their real character; you evoke for them, not
to say infuse into them, the very feeling which the architect had in
contemplation. And thus I spent the whole day, Kneip the while working
away most diligently in taking very accurate sketches. How delighted
was I to be exempt from that care, and yet to acquire such unfailing
tokens for the aid of memory! Unfortunately, there was no accommodation
for spending the night here. We returned to Sorrento, and started
early next morning for Naples. Vesuvius, seen from the back, is a rich
country; poplars, with their colossal pyramids, on the road-side, in
the foreground; these, too, formed an agreeable feature, which we
halted a moment to take.
We now reached an eminence. The most extensive area in the world opened
before us. Naples, in all its splendour: its mile-long line of houses
on the flat shore of the bay, the promontories, tongues of land and
walls of rock; then the islands, and, behind all, the sea,--the whole
was a ravishing sight.
A most hideous singing, or rather exulting cry and howl of joy, from
the boy behind, frightened and disturbed us. Somewhat angrily, I called
out to him; he had never had any harsh words from us,--he had been a
very good boy.
For a while he did not move; then he patted me lightly on the shoulder,
and pushing between us both his right arm, with the fore-finger
stretched out, exclaimed, "_Signor, perdonate! questa è la mia
patria!_"--which, being interpreted, runs, "Forgive me, Sir, for that
is my native land!" And so I was ravished a second time. Something like
a tear stood in the eyes of the phlegmatic child of the north.
* * * * *
_Naples, March_ 25, 1787.
Although I saw that Kniep was delighted to go with me to the festival
of the Annunciation, still I could not fail to observe that there was
a something he was sorry to part from. His candour could not let him
long conceal from me the fact, that he had formed here a close and
faithful attachment. It was a pretty tale to listen to, the story of
their first meeting, and the description of the fair one's behaviour
up to this time told in her favour; Kniep, moreover, insisted on my
going and seeing for myself how pretty she really was. Accordingly, an
opportunity was contrived, and so as to afford me the enjoyment of one
of the most agreeable views over Naples. He took me to the flat roof
of a house, which commanded a survey of the lower town, near the Mole,
the bay, and the shore of Sorrento; all that lay beyond on the left,
became fore-shortened in the strangest way possible, and which, except
from this particular spot, was never witnessed. Naples is, every where,
beautiful and glorious.
[Sidenote: Naples--An apparition.]
While we were admiring the country around, suddenly, (although
expected), a very beautiful face presented itself above the roof--for
the entrance to these flat roofs is generally an oblong opening in the
roof, which can be covered, when not used, by a trap-door. While, then,
the little angel appeared in full figure above the opening, it occurred
to me that ancient painters usually represent the Annunciation by
making the angel ascend by a similar trap-door. But the angel on this
occasion was really of a very fine form, of a very pretty face, and a
good natural carriage. It was a real joy to me, under the free heaven,
and in presence of the finest prospect in the world, to see my new
friend so happy. After her departure, he confessed to me that he had
hitherto voluntarily endured poverty, as by that means he had enjoyed
her love; and at the same time, had learned to appreciate her contented
disposition: and now his better prospects, and improved condition, were
chiefly prized, because they procured him the means of making her days
more comfortable.
_Naples, March_ 25, 1787.
After this pleasant little incident I walked on the shore, calm and
happy. There a good insight into botanical matters opened on me. Tell
Herder that I am very near finding the primal vegetable type; only I
fear that no one will be able to trace in it the rest of the vegetable
kingdom. My famous theory of the Cotyledons is so refined, that perhaps
it is impossible to go further with it.
_Naples, March_ 26, 1787.
To-morrow this letter will leave this for you. On Thursday, the 29th,
I go to Palermo in the corvette, which formerly, in my ignorance of
sea matters, I promoted to the rank of a frigate. The doubt whether I
should go or remain made me unsettled even in the use of my stay here;
now I have made up my mind, things go on better. For my mental state
this journey is salutary--indeed necessary. I see Sicily pointing to
Africa, and to Asia, and to the wonderful, whither so many rays of the
world's history are directed: even to stand still is no trifle!
I have treated Naples quite in its own style. I have been anything but
industrious. And yet I have seen a great deal, and formed a pretty
general idea of the land, its inhabitants, and condition. On my return
there is much that I shall have to go over again; indeed, only "go
over," for by the 29th of June I must be in Rome again. As I have
missed the Holy Week, I must not fail to be present at the festivities
of St. Peter's Day. My Sicilian expedition must not altogether draw me
off from my original plans.
The day before yesterday we had a violent storm, with thunder,
lightning, and rain. Now it is again clear; a glorious Tramontane is
blowing; if it lasts, we shall have a rapid passage.
Yesterday I went with my fellow-traveller to see the vessel, and to
take our cabin. A sea voyage is utterly out of the pale of my ideas;
this short trip, which will probably be a mere coasting one, will help
my imagination, and enlarge my world. The captain is a young lively
fellow; the ship trim and clean, built in America, and a good sailer.
[Sidenote: Naples-Departure for Sicily.]
Here every spot begins to look green; Sicily, they tell me, I shall
find still more so. By the time you get this letter I shall be on my
return, leaving Trinacria behind me. Such is man; he is always either
anticipating or recalling; I have not yet been there; and yet I now am,
in thought, back again with you! However, for the confusion of this
letter I am not to blame. Every moment I am interrupted, and yet I
would, if possible, fill this sheet to the very corner.
Just now I have had a visit from a Marchese Berio, a young man who
appears to be well informed. He was anxious to make the acquaintance
of the author of "Werther." Generally, indeed, the people here evince
a great desire for, and delight in, learning and accomplishments. Only
they are too happy to go the right way to acquire them. Had I more
time, I would willingly devote it to observing the Neapolitans. These
four weeks--what are they, compared with the endless variety of life?
Now, fare you well. On these travels I have learnt one thing at
least--how to travel well; whether I am learning to live, I know not.
The men who pretend to understand that art, are, in nature and manner,
too widely different from me, for setting up any claim to such a talent.
Farewell, and love me as sincerely as I from my heart remember you.
* * * * *
_Naples, March_ 28, 1787.
These few days have been entirely passed in packing and leave-taking;
with making all necessary arrangements, and paying bills; looking for
missing articles, and with preparations of all kinds. I set the time
down as lost.
The Prince of Walbeck has, just at my departure, unsettled me again.
For he has been talking of nothing less than that I should arrange,
on my return, to go with him to Greece and Dalmatia. When one enters
once into the world, and gives way to it, it is necessary to be very
cautious, lest one should be carried away, not to say driven mad by it.
I am utterly incapable of adding another syllable.
* * * * *
_Naples, March_ 29, 1787.
For some days the weather has been very unsettled; to-day, (the
appointed time for our sailing), it is again as fine as possible. A
favourable north wind, a bright sunny sky, beneath which one wishes
oneself in the wide world! Now I bid an affectionate farewell to all
my friends in Weimar and Gotha. Your love accompanies me; for wherever
I am I feel my need of you. Last night I dreamt I was again among old
familiar faces. It seems as if I could not unload my boat of pheasants'
feathers any where but among you. May it be well loaded.
* * * * *
SICILY.
_At Sea, Thursday, March_ 29, 1787.
A fresh and favourable breeze from the north-east is not blowing this
time, as it did at the last sailing of the packet. But, unfortunately,
a direct head-wind comes from the opposite quarter, the south-west--and
so we are experiencing to our cost how much the traveller by sea
depends upon the caprice of the wind and weather. Out of all patience,
we whiled away the morning either on the shore or in the coffee-house;
at last, at noon we went on board, and the weather being extremely
fine, we enjoyed the most glorious of views. The corvette lay at
anchor near to the Mole. With an unclouded sun the atmosphere was
hazy, giving to the rocky walls of Sorrento, which were in the shade,
a tint of most beautiful blue. Naples, with its living multitudes, lay
in the full sunshine, and glittered brilliantly with countless tints.
It was not until sunset that the vessel began slowly to move from her
moorings; then the wind which was contrary drove us over to Posilippo,
and its promontory. All night long the ship went quietly on its way.
She is a swift sailer, and was built in America, and is well fitted
with, cabins and berths. The passengers cheerful, but not boisterous.
Opera-singers and dancers, consigned to Palermo.
* * * * *
_Friday, March_ 30, 1787.
By day-break we found ourselves between Ischia and Capri--perhaps
not more than a mile from the latter. The sun rose from behind the
mountains of Capri and Cape Minerva. Kniep diligently sketched the
outlines of the coasts and the islands, and took several beautiful
views. The slowness of the passage was favourable to his labours. We
were making our way but slowly under a light side-wind. We lost sight
of Vesuvius about four, just as we came in dew of Cape Minerva and
Ischia. These, too, disappeared about evening. The sun set in the sea,
attended with clouds, and a long streak of light, reaching for miles,
all of a brilliant purple. This phenomenon was also sketched by Kniep.
At last we lost sight altogether of the land, and the watery horizon
surrounded us, the night being clear, with lovely moonlight.
[Sidenote: The voyage to Sicily.]
These beautiful sights, however, I could only enjoy for a few moments,
for I was soon attacked with sea-sickness. I betook myself to my cabin,
chose an horizontal position, and abstaining from all meat or drink,
except white bread and red wine, soon found myself pretty comfortable
again. Shut out from the external world, I let the internal have full
sway; and, as a tedious voyage was to be anticipated, I immediately
set myself a heavy task in order to while away the time profitably.
Of all my papers I had only brought with me the first two acts of
"Tasso," written in poetic prose. These two acts, as regards their plan
and evolution, were nearly similar to the present ones, but, written
full ten years ago, had a somewhat soft and misty tone, which soon
disappeared, while, in accordance with my later notions, I made form
more predominant, and introduced more of rhythm.
* * * * *
_Saturday, March_ 31, 1787.
The sun rose this morning from the water quite clear. About seven we
overtook a French vessel, which had left Naples two days before us,
so much the better sailer was our vessel: still we had no prospect as
yet of the end of our passage. We were somewhat cheered by the sight
of Ustica, but, unfortunately, on our left, when we ought to have had
it, like Capri, on our right. Towards noon the wind became directly
contrary, and we did not make the least way. The sea began to get
rough, and every one in the ship was sick.
I kept in my usual position, and the whole piece was thought over and
over, and through and through again. The hours passed away, and I
should not have noticed how they went, but for the roguish Kniep, on
whose appetite the waves had no influence. When, from time to time, he
brought me some wine and some bread, he took a mischievous delight in
expatiating on the excellent dinner in the cabin, the cheerfulness and
good nature of our young but clever captain, and on his regrets that I
was unable to enjoy my share of it. So, likewise, the transition from
joke and merriment to qualmishness and sickness, and the various ways
in which the latter manifested themselves in the different passengers,
afforded him rich materials for humorous description.
At four in the afternoon the captain altered the course of our vessel.
The mainsails were again set, and we steered direct for Ustica, behind
which, to our great joy, we discerned the mountains of Sicily. The wind
improved, and we bore rapidly towards Sicily, and a few little islands
appeared in view. The sunset was murky, the light of heaven being
veiled beneath a mist. The wind was pretty fair for the whole of the
evening; towards midnight the sea became very rough.
* * * * *
_Sunday, April_ 1, 1787.
About 3 in the morning a violent storm. Half asleep and dreaming, I
went on with the plan of my drama; in the mean time there was great
commotion on deck; the sails were all taken in, and the vessel pitched
on the top of the waves. As day broke the storm abated, and the sky
cleared up. Now Ustica lay right on our left. They pointed out to me
a large turtle swimming a great distance off; by my telescope I could
easily discern it, as a living point. Towards noon we were clearly
able to distinguish the coast of Sicily with its headlands and bays,
but we had got very far to the leeward, and tacked on and off. Towards
mid-day we came nearer to the shore. The weather being clear, and the
sun shining bright, we saw quite distinctly the western coast from the
promontory of Lilybæum to Cape Gallo.
A shoal of dolphins attended our ship on both bows, and continually
shot a-head. It was amusing to watch them as they swam along, covered
by the clear transparent waves at one time, and at another springing
above the water, showing their fins and spine-ridged back, with their
sides playing in the light from gold to green, and from green to gold.
[Sidenote: The voyage to Sicily.]
As the land was direct on our lee, the captain lay to in a bay behind
Cape Gallo. Kniep failed not to seize the opportunity to sketch
the many beautiful scenes somewhat in detail. Towards sunset the
captain made again for the open sea, steering north-east, in order
to make the heights of Palermo. I ventured several times on deck,
but never intermitted for a moment my poetical labours; and thus I
became pretty well master of the whole piece. With a cloudy sky, a
bright but broken moonlight, the reflection on the sea was infinitely
beautiful. Paintings, in order to heighten the effect, generally lead
us to believe, that the reflection from the heavenly luminaries on
the water has its greatest breadth nearest to the spectator, where it
also possesses its greatest brilliancy. On this occasion, however, the
reflection was broadest at the horizon, and, like a sharp pyramid,
ended with sparkling waves close to the ship. During the night our
captain again frequently changed the tack.
* * * * *
_Monday, April_ 2, 1787.
This morning, about 8 o'clock, we found ourselves over against Palermo.
The morning seemed to me highly delightful. During the days that I had
been shut up in my cabin, I had got on pretty well with the plan of my
drama. I felt quite well now, and was able to stay on deck, and observe
attentively the Sicilian coast. Kniep went on sketching away, and by
his accurate, but rapid pencil, many a sheet of paper was converted
into highly valuable mementoes of our landing, which, however, we still
had to wait for.
* * * * *
PALERMO.
_Monday, April_ 2, 1787.
By 3 o'clock p.m., we at last, after much trouble and difficulty, got
into harbour, where a most glorious view lay before us. Perfectly
recovered from my sea-sickness, I enjoyed it highly. The town facing
north, lay at the foot of a high hill, with the sun (at this time of
day) shining above it. The sides of the buildings which looked towards
us, lay in a deep shade, which, however, was clear, and lit up by the
reflection from the water. On our right Monte Pellegrino, with its many
elegant outlines, in full light; on the left the coast, with its bays,
isthmuses, and headlands, stretching far away into the distance; and
the most agreeable effect was produced by the fresh green of some fine
trees, whose crowns, lit up from behind, swayed backwards and forwards
before the dark buildings, like great masses of glow-worms. A brilliant
haze gave a blueish tint to all the shades.
Instead of hurrying impatiently on shore, we remained on deck till we
were actually forced to land; for where could we hope soon to find a
position equal to this, or so favourable a point of view?