in the Neapolitan corvette. However, as we gradually stood off from the
shore, we were quite taken up with the glorious view presented by the
circular line of the Palazzata, the citadel, and by the mountains which
rose behind the city. Calabria was on the other side. And then the wide
prospect northwards and southwards over the strait,--a broad expanse
indeed, but still shut in on both sides by a beautiful shore. While
we were admiring these objects, one after another, our attention was
diverted to a certain commotion in the water, at a tolerable distance
on the left hand, and still nearer on the right, to a rock distinctly
separate from the shore. They were Scylla and Charybdis. These
remarkable objects, which in nature stand so wide apart, but which the
poet has brought so close together, have furnished occasion to many
to make grave complaints of the fabling of poetry. Such grumblers,
however, do not duly consider that the imaginative faculty invariably
depicts the objects it would represent as grand and impressive, with
a few striking touches, rather than in fulness of detail, and that
thereby it lends to the image more of character, solemnity, and
dignity. A thousand times have I heard the complaint that the objects
for a knowledge of which we are originally indebted to description,
invariably disappoint us when we see them with our own eyes. The cause
is, in every case, the same. Imagination and reality stand in the same
relation to each other as poetry and prose do: the former invariably
conceives of its objects as powerful and elevated, the latter loves to
dilate and to expand them. A comparison of the landscape painters of
the 16th century with those of our own day, will strikingly illustrate
my meaning. A drawing of Iodocus Momper, by the side of one of Kniep's
outlines, would at once make the contrast intelligible.
With such and similar discourses we contrived to amuse ourselves, since
the coasts were not attractive enough, even for Kniep, notwithstanding
his having prepared everything for sketching.
As to myself, however, I was again attacked with sea-sickness; but this
time the unpleasant feeling was not relieved by separation and privacy,
as it was on our passage over. However, the cabin was large enough
to hold several persons, and there was no lack of good mattresses.
I again resumed the horizontal position, in which I was diligently
tended by Kniep, who administered to me plenty of red wine and good
bread. In this position our Sicilian expedition presented itself to
my mind in no very agreeable light. On the whole, we had really seen
nothing but traces of the utterly vain struggle which the human race
makes to maintain itself against the violence of Nature, against the
malicious spite of Time, and against the rancour of its own unhappy
divisions. The Carthaginians, the Greeks, the Romans, and the many
other races which followed in succession, built and destroyed. Selinus
lies methodically overthrown by art and skill; two thousand years have
not sufficed to throw down the temples of Gergenti; a few hours, nay
a few minutes were sufficient to overwhelm Catania and Messina. These
sea-sick fancies, however, I did not allow to take possession of a mind
tossed up and down on the waves of life.
* * * * *
_At Sea, Tuesday, May_ 16, 1787.
My hope of having a quicker passage back to Naples, or at least of
recovering sooner from my sea-sickness, has been disappointed. Several
times I attempted, at Kniep's recommendation, to go up on deck; however
all enjoyment of the varying beauty of the scene was denied me. Only
one or two incidents had power to make me forget awhile my giddiness.
The whole sky was overcast with a thin vapoury cloud, through which
the sun (whose disk, however, was not discernible) illuminated the sea,
which was of the most beautiful blue colour that ever was seen. A troop
of dolphins accompanied the ship; swimming or leaping they managed to
keep up with it. I could not help fancying that in the deep water, and
at the distance, our floating edifice must have seemed to them a black
point, and that they had hurried towards it as to a welcome piece of
booty and consumption. However that may be, the sailors did not treat
them as kind guides, but rather as enemies; one was hit with a harpoon,
but not hauled on deck.
[Sidenote: The voyage from Messina to Naples.]
The wind continued unfavourable, and by continually tacking and
manœuvring, we only just managed not to lose way. Our impatience at
this only increased when some experienced persons among the passengers
declared that neither the captain nor the steersman understood their
business. The one might do very well as captain, and the other as a
mariner---they were, however, not fit to be trusted with the lives of
so many passengers and such a valuable freight.
I begged these otherwise most doughty personages to keep their fears to
themselves. The number of the passengers was very great, and among them
were several women and children of all ages; for every one had crowded
on board the French merchantman, without a thought of any thing but
of the protection which the white flag assured them from the pirates.
I therefore represented to these parties that the expression of their
distrust and anxiety would plunge in the greatest alarm those poor
folk who had hitherto placed all their hopes of safety in the piece of
uncoloured and unemblazoned linen.
And in reality, between sky and sea this white streamer, as a decided
talisman, is singular enough. As parting friends greet each other
with their white waving handkerchiefs, and so excite in their bosoms
a mutual feeling--which nothing else could call forth--of love and
affection divided for a while, so here in this simple flag the custom
is consecrated. It is even as if one had fixed a handkerchief on the
mast to proclaim to all the world, "Here comes a friend over the sea."
Revived from time to time with a little wine and bread, to the
annoyance of the captain, who said that I ought to eat what was
bargained for, I was able at last to sit on the deck, and to take part
occasionally in the conversation. Kniep managed to cheer me, for he
could not, this time by boasting of the excellent fare, excite my
energy; on the contrary, he was obliged to extol my good luck in having
no appetite.
* * * * *
_Wednesday, April_ 15, 1787.
And thus mid-day passed without our being able, as we wished, to get
into the Bay of Naples. On the contrary, we were continually driven
more and more to the west, and our vessel, nearing the island of
Capri, kept getting further from Cape Minerva. Every one was annoyed
and impatient; we two, however, who could contemplate the world with
a painter's eye, had enough to content us, when the setting sun
presented for our enjoyment the most beautiful prospect that we had
yet witnessed during our whole tour. Cape Minerva, with the mountains
which abut on it, lay before our eyes in the brilliant colouring of
sunset, while the rocks which stretched southwards from the headland,
had already assumed a bluish tint. The whole coast, stretching from
the Cape to Sorrento, was gloriously lit up. Vesuvius was visible; an
immense cloud of smoke stood above it like a tower, and sent out a
long streak southwards--the result, probably, of a violent eruption.
On the left lay Capri, rising perpendicularly in the air; and by the
help of the transparent blue halo, we were able distinctly to trace
the forms of its rocky walls. Beneath a perfectly clear and cloudless
sky glittered the calm, scarcely rippling sea, which at last, when
the wind died away, lay before us exactly like a clear pool. We were
enraptured with the sight. Kniep regretted that all the colours of art
were inadequate to convey an idea of this harmony, and that not even
the finest of English pencils would enable the most practised hand
to give the delicacy of the outline. I, for my part, convinced that
to possess even a far poorer memorial of the scene than this clever
artist could produce, would greatly contribute to my future enjoyment,
exhorted him to strain both his hand and eye for the last time. He
allowed himself to be persuaded, and produced a most accurate drawing
(which he afterwards coloured); and so bequeathed to me a proof, that
to truly artistic powers of delineation, the impossible becomes the
possible. With equally attentive eyes we watched the transition from
evening to night. Capri now lay quite black before us, and, to our
astonishment, the smoke of Vesuvius turned into flame, as, indeed, did
the whole streak, which, the longer we observed it, became brighter
and brighter; at last we saw a considerable region of the atmosphere,
forming, as it were, the back ground of our natural picture, lit
up-and, indeed, lightening.
[Sidenote: The voyage from Messina to Naples.]
We were so entirely occupied with these welcome scenes, that we
did not notice the great danger we were in. However, the commotion
among the passengers did not allow us to continue long in ignorance
of it. Those who were better acquainted with maritime affairs than
ourselves were bitterly reproaching the captain and his steersman. By
their bungling, they said, they had not only missed the mouth of the
strait, but they were very nigh losing the lives of all the passengers
intrusted to them, cargo and all. We inquired into the grounds of
these apprehensions, especially as we could not conceive how, during a
perfect calm, there could be any cause for alarm. But it was this very
calm that rendered these people so inconsolable. "We are," they said,
"in the current which runs round the island, and which, by a slow but
irresistible ground-swell, will draw us against the rugged rocks, where
there is neither the slightest footing, nor the least cove to save
ourselves by.
Made more attentive by these declarations, we contemplated our fate
with horror. For, although the deepening night did not allow us to
distinguish the approach of danger, still we observed that the ship,
as it rolled and pitched, was gradually nearing the rocks, which grew
darker and darker upon the eye, while a light evening glow was still
playing on the water. Not the slightest movement was to be discerned
in the air. Handkerchiefs and light ribbons were constantly being held
up, but not the slightest indication of the much desired breath of wind
was discernible. The tumult became every moment louder and wilder. The
women with their children were on the deck praying, not indeed on their
knees, for there was scarcely room for them to move, but lying close
pressed one upon another. Every now and then, too, they would rate and
scold the captain more harshly and more bitterly than the men, who were
calmer, thinking over every chance of helping and saving the vessel.
They reproached him with everything which, during the passage up to
this point, had been borne with silence--the bad accommodation, the
high passage money, the scanty bill of fare, his own manners--which,
if not absolutely surly, were certainly forbidding enough. He would
not give an account of his proceedings to any one; indeed, ever since
the evening before he had maintained a most obstinate silence as to
his plans, and what he was doing with his vessel. He and the steersman
were called mere money-making adventurers, who having no knowledge at
all of navigation, had managed to buy a packet with a mere view to
profit, and now, by their incapacity and bungling, were on the point
of losing all that had been intrusted to their care. The captain,
however, maintained his usual silence under all these reproaches,
and appeared to be giving all his thoughts to the chances of saving
his ship. As for myself, since I had always felt a greater horror of
anarchy than of death itself, I found it quite impossible to hold my
tongue any longer. I went up to the noisy railers, and, addressed them
with almost as much composure of mind as the rogues of Malsesine. I
represented to them that, by their shrieking and bawling, they must
confound both the ears and the brains of those on whom all at this
moment depended for our safety, so that they could neither think nor
communicate with one another. All that you have to do, I said, is to
calm yourselves, and then to offer up a fervent prayer to the Mother
of God, asking her to intercede with her blessed Son to do for you
what He did for His Apostles when on the lake Tiberias. The waves
broke over the boat while the Lord slept, but Who when, helpless and
inconsolable, they awoke Him, commanded the winds to be still; and
Who, if it is only His heavenly will, can even now command the winds
to rise. These few words had the best effect possible. One of the men
with whom I had previously had some conversation on moral and religious
subjects, exclaimed, "_Ah, il Balarmé! Benedetto il Balarmé!_" and they
actually began, as they were already prostrate on their knees, to go
over their rosaries with more than usual fervour. They were able to
do this with the greater calmness, as the sailors were now trying an
expedient the object of which was, at any rate, apparent to every eye.
The boat (which would not, however, hold more than six or eight men)
was let down and fastened by a long rope to the ship, which, by dint of
hard rowing, they hoped to be able to tow after them. And, indeed, it
was thought that they did move it within the current, and hopes began
to be entertained of soon seeing the vessel towed entirely out of it.
But whether their efforts increased the counteraction of the current,
or whatever it was, the boat with its crew at the end of the hawser
was suddenly drawn in a kind of a bow towards the vessel, forming with
the long rope a kind of bow--or just like the lash of a whip when the
driver makes a blow with it. This plan, therefore, was soon given up.
Prayer now began to alternate with weeping--for our state began to
appear alarming indeed, when from the deck we could clearly distinguish
the voices of the goatherds, (whose fires on the rocks we had long
seen), crying to one another, "There is a vessel stranding below."
They also said something else, but the sounds were unintelligible to
me; those, however, who understood their patois, interpreted them
as exclamations of joy, to think of the rich booty they would reap
in the morning. Thus the doubt which we had entertained whether the
ship was actually nearing the rocks, and in any immediate danger, was
unfortunately too soon dispelled, and we saw the sailors preparing
boat-poles and fenders, in order, should it come to the worst, to be
ready to hold the vessel off the rocks--so long at least as their poles
did not break, in which case all would be inevitably lost. The ship now
rolled more violently than ever, and the breakers seemed to increase
upon us. And my sickness returning upon me in the midst of it all, made
me resolve to return to the cabin. Half stupefied, I threw myself down
on my mattress, still with a somewhat pleasant feeling, which seemed to
me to come over from the Sea of Tiberias, for the picture in Merian's
Pictorial Bible kept floating before my mind's eye. And so it is: our
moral impressions invariably prove strongest in those moments when we
are most driven back upon ourselves. How long I lay in this sort of
half stupor I know not, for I was awakened by a great noise overhead;
I could distinctly make out that it was caused by great ropes being
dragged along the deck, and this gave me a hope that they were going
to make use of the sails. A little while after this Kniep hurried down
into the cabin to tell me that we were out of danger, for a gentle
breeze had sprung up; that all hands had just been at work in hoisting
the sails, and that he himself had not hesitated to lend a hand. We
were visibly getting clear off the rocks; and although not entirely out
of the current, there was now a good hope of our being able to make way
against it. All was now still again overhead, and soon several more of
the passengers came below to announce the happy turn of affairs, and to
lie down.
[Sidenote: The voyage from Messina to Naples.]
When on the fourth day of our voyage, I awoke early in the morning,
I found myself quite fresh and well, just as I had been at the same
period of the passage from Naples; so that on a longer voyage I may
hope to get off free, after paying to the sea a three days' tribute of
sickness.
From the deck I saw with no little delight the island of Capri, at
a tolerable distance on our lee, and perceived that the vessel was
holding such a course as afforded a hope of our being able ere long to
enter the gulf, which, indeed, we very soon afterwards accomplished.
And now, after passing a hard night, we had the satisfaction of seeing
the same objects as had charmed us so greatly the evening before, in a
reversed light. We soon left this dangerous insular rock far behind us.
While yesterday we had admired the right hand coast from a distance,
now we had straight before us the castle and the city, with Posilippo
on the left, together with the tongues of land which run out into the
sea towards Procida and Ischia. Everyone was on deck; foremost among
them was a Greek priest, enthusiastic in the praises of his own dear
East; but who, when the Neapolitans on board, who were rapturously
greeting their glorious country, asked him what he thought of Naples,
as compared with Constantinople? very pathetically replied, "_Anche
questa è una città!_" (This, too, is a city.)
We reached the harbour just at the right time, when it was thronged
with people. Scarcely were our trunks and the rest of our baggage
unshipped and put on shore ere they were seized by two lusty porters,
who, scarcely giving us time to say that we were going to put up at
Moriconi's, ran off with the load as if with a prize, so that we had
difficulty in keeping them in view as they darted through the crowded
streets and bustling piazzas. Kniep kept his portfolio under his arm,
and we consoled ourselves with thinking that the drawings at least
were safe, should these porters, less honest than the poor Neapolitan
devils, strip us of all that even the very breakers had spared.
END OF VOL. II.