gruffy old fellow, Ignazio Vesconali, who lives at the bottom of
_Scalirata_, and has grown old with the Piazza itself! Go down at any
hour of the day, and there he was sure to be, either blinking away
through his blue goggle glasses, with his cap on, at his door, or at a
little shabby table fumbling over curiosities; or creeping over to the
coffee-house opposite, to toddle back again, with his cotton
pocket-handkerchief, his snuff-box, and his key in hand, to re-arrange
his treasures, and utter lamentations that nobody any longer comes to
buy. On such occasions we have sometimes entered; and after a "_buon
giorno_," and a remark on the weather, (which, if you abused it,
however injuriously, always secured you his assent; for he quarrels now
even with the calendar,) he expected you to _hope_ he had sold
something lately, to afford him an opportunity to say, "_Ma ché, ma
niente_;" and then you had to sit and listen while he told you all his
grievances--how once "a dozen English noblemen had stood _all of a row
there_," and he showed you where, in his shop, fighting for his wares,
and buying them almost quicker than he could register the purchases
they made; and how sometimes he could sell 500 scudi worth of property
before breakfast, and get an appetite by doing so! No! there was not a
man of note in England, that had not some day or other been _booked_ by
him. All _their_ kindness, no doubt--and then they came not to tease
poor Ignazio, but to buy of him. Now a different set of customers dropt
in one by one to look at his gems, and to find nothing good enough for
them; some tumbling over his antiques, and offering a scudo for his
best onyxes; "_uno scudo, Santissima Maria Virgine!_" others
adventuring a whole paul! a price for his best Consular coins!--_ah!
gli avari!_ The earth too, once so bountiful, was now as avaricious of
parting with her treasures as the English themselves. The fields had
ceased to yield their former supplies; and the peasants about Rome
would scarce stoop to picking up rubbish, for which, however, they
always wanted Ignazio's money. "Ah, poor old man!--_che vecchio?_ old
man forsooth! say rather an old dotard, who is unfit to buy, to
bargain, or to live!" And then he would ventriloquize once more to
himself. "Ah, poor Ignazio! ah, poor old man! your day is indeed gone
by." Such appeals were irresistible. So, whenever we had a few scudi to
spare, (and it was not quite discreet to go into his shop without,) we
used to beg to see some of his boxes of engraved stones; and having
pored for a time over wares that had been examined by the most cunning
eyes in Rome, would find one of better workmanship, and stop to inquire
its price. "_Quanto_, Signor Ignazio?" and while Signor Ignazio was
recollecting himself, we glanced on from one to the other, (the great
rule in bargaining being never to appear to know what you are
bargaining for!) "_Per cinque scudi vi lo do._" Viewed thus in the
light of a donation, we would think it too high, and tell him so. "Take
it for four, then--_pigliate lo per quattro_;" and at this fresh
concession he would grunt a little, like a tame seal in a water-tub!
Still we would hesitate, and dare to offer two. "For every body else,
he had said _impossible_,--for us we were _padronissimi_ to take it, as
the old man's gift, on our own terms." So we would put it up, and then,
elated at our _bargain_, and at his respect for us, we would remove
another "_intaglio_" from the box; and this time, naming our own price,
say with perfect nonchalance, "_due scudi_." The old fellow would then
fumble it up in his snuffy old gloves, and bring it near his snuffy old
nose; and having wiped his snuffy old magnifier, would bend his blue
goggle glasses over it--and having _screamed_--"_Che! due scudi?_ what
do you mean by two scudi? A stone of this beauty! a living head of
Medusa--a front face, too--for two scudi! The serpents in the hair were
worth more money--one-half of such a head, were the stone in _two_,
would be worth more money." And then would come in the antistrophe as
before--"_Ah, povero Ignazio! povero vecchio!_"--and we would be
shocked, and declare with compunction that we had no intention to cheat
him; and he, already "_persuasissimo_ of that," would beg us to say no
more, but to put it into our pocket for _three_. After these
preliminaries were settled and paid for, we would be contented to hear
him once more recount the tale of his younger days, when he had the
antiquity business all to himself; when he married his first wife; had
dealings with Demidoff; and knew all that were worth knowing in
Rome--both buyers and sellers. "Old age, Signor, is preparing me fast
to give up both my business and my life! Buy, buy, now's your time,
_eccomi_! an old man who wants to sell off every thing! name your
prices! Don't be afraid, you may offer me any thing _now_." "Three
scudi?" "Impossible I should let you have it for that. It cost me five;
but never mind! there's the mask at three scudi. Take it! Any thing
else?" "This intaglio?" "You are a capital judge, or you would not have
thus picked out my _best_ intaglio--will no colonnati suit?" "No."
"Will you be pleased if I prove my friendship for you by sacrificing it
at fifteen?" No! "There, take it as our third gift for twelve; but, oh
that I should have lived to sell it for that, _even to you_! But you
will come and see me again; I know you will, _Dottore mio!_ And sure
you might contrive to spend a few more _fees_ with me than you do, and
be all the richer for it into the bargain--what fine opportunities
_you_ must have of selling things to your patients, especially to the
_donne_! I wish I was a doctor, that I might carry on my business for a
year or two longer!"
SIGNOR DEDOMENICIS.
"I have a hundred questions to ask," said we, turning into
Dedomenicis' curiosity-shop, and casting a furtive glance behind his
old armour and arras hangings, to see that there was no other
confidant to whom we might be betraying our ignorance. "_Dunque_--well
then, one at a time; _è s'accommodi_--make yourself at home," said the
old dealer, pushing us a chair, and looking humanely communicative,
as he adjusted to his temples a huge pair of spectacles, and stood at
our side ready to be interrogated.
An old dealer, like a young beauty, when you are together, expects
something flattering to be said about his eyes, so "we wished ours
were as good as his." He said, "they were younger." "But what was the
use of young eyes, or of any eyes," said we, disparaging our own,
"that could not make out the wholesomeness of a coin, nor distinguish
the patina of antiquity from vulgar verdigris?"
Dedomenicis' _cough_ convinced us that this sentiment of ours was not
very far from what he himself believed to be the truth, only he was
too polite to _say_ so.
"There!" said we, "look at these bronze bargains of ours, these two
_counterfeit_ coins, which have not been a week in our possession, and
which C---- has already declared to be false! Oh! would _you_ not have
deemed it a happier lot to put up with a blameless blindness, and all
its evils, rather than, having eyes in your head, to have disgraced
them by such a purchase?" Dedomenicis glances one glance at the false
Emperors, and then passes a sentence which banishes them for ever from
the society of the Cæsars; while he _wonders_ how we could have hoped
to buy a real Piscennius and a Pertinax in the same adventure, and
both so well preserved too?
"Were we ignorant of the prices usually set upon the heads of all
those emperors who had enjoyed but a few weeks' reign?" Did not every
body, for instance, know that the African Gordians, both father and
son, were, in _bronze_, worth their weight in gold? that a Vitellius
in bronze was cheap at six pounds? and that he might be considered
fortunate indeed who could convert his spare ten-pound notes into as
many Pertinax penny-pieces, or come into the possession of a
half-penny or a second module, as it is called, of Pescennius Niger,
at the same price? Did not every body know that Domitia was coy at
£20, and stood out for £25? That Matidia, Mariana, and Plotina smiled
upon none who would not give £40 to possess them, and that Annia
Faustina was become a priceless piece? Had we been so long returned to
Rome and not yet heard of the Matidia now in the keeping of our
gallant countryman, General A----, who was jealous (at least so B----
had told him) of showing her even to his best friends, lest she should
prove too much for their virtue to withstand, and slept with her, and
could not snore securely unless she was by his side? Well, he had paid
£40 for her at Thomas's sale in London, and Rollin, on seeing her in
Paris, would have gladly detained her there for £50, but the general
was not to be bribed; "so you see, _dottore mio_, it costs a good deal
to collect coins even in the baser metal." "So it would appear,
indeed, Dedomenicis; and the next time a Pertinax in bronze turns up,
we will most _pertinaciously_ refuse to bid for him; or if another
Pescennius should ever again cross our path, we will mutter 'Hic
_Niger_ est,' and remember to have nothing to do with him."
"And I think," said the old fellow, slily taking off his spectacles,
and placing them on the table,--"I think you will not lose much if you
adhere to your present intention."
"And yet it is annoying not to know the difference between the works
of those _Paduan_ brothers, of a recent century, and such as really
belong to the old Roman mint;" saying which we began to study them
afresh, as a policeman would do to a rogue, whom he expected to meet
again. "Is this knowledge, dear Dedomenicis, to be acquired 'per
càrita?' let us not waste our time, if it be not." "_Lei lo sapra!_ it
will come in good time. _Pazienza!_ be patient! you know our
proverb--'time and straw ripen medlars,' and your judgment will mature
in time, _just as the medlars do_."
Crude as an unripe medlar though our judgment certainly then _was_,
still the prospect of its _mellowing into unsoundness at last_ was by
no means consolatory; and so we told him, pocketing our false coins,
and going home to consult the memorandum of their price,--here it is!
_Eccola!_ as it was most ingeniously registered by us at the
time--"Nov. 7, 1840--Bought to-day of a peasant on his way from Ricci
to Rome, two _beautiful coins_, a Pertinax and a Pescennius Niger, in
_perfect preservation_! only paid £5 for the two!! the _simple_
contadino, who can't read the epigraphes, asks whether they are not
Nero's!!"[54]
A ring at the bell, and our courier has announced Signor Dedomenicis.
"By all means, show him in then,"--for he had come, a year later, to
see coins we had picked up during our summer trip to Sicily. "There,"
said we gaily, and to put him in a good humour at once, (for the remark
showed we had made ourselves master of his physiognomy),--"there,
Dedomenicis, is a Ptolemy Evergetes, who was, to judge by his coins,
your very prototype--it is your nose--your chin--your"----
"Suppose you make it mine altogether then," said he slily; but we
"prized it too much, on this very account, to part with it!" After
which we go to the nearest cabinet in the room--unlock the door, take
out drawer No. 1, marked Sicilian, and _rare_; and in the pride of our
young beginnings, and little knowing what we were to bring upon
ourselves in so doing,--
"Midst hopes, and fears that kindle hopes.
A pleasing anxious throng;
And shrewd suspicions often lull'd,
But now returning strong,"--
we hand over the tray to Dedomenicis, whose running commentary, as
soon as he had brought it into the field of his spectacles, was really
appalling; and he plied it as destructively as a Sikh battery, or a
Perkins's steam gun.
Prepared to see him take out the first coin in the row, to subject it
to his magnifier, to turn it round, now on this side, now on that, and
then to pause, ere he could decide upon it, little could we have
supposed that in a second his battery was to commence fire; and that
in less than a minute, he would have passed a summary sentence upon
every coin of the lot.
"_One--two--three._"--Thus it began; "_roba commune_--common as
blackberries; (four, five, six,) _niente di buono_--good for what you
can get for them; (seven, eight, nine,) _Idem_; (ten, eleven, twelve,)
_Idem_; thirteen, _not_ of Messina, as it pretended to be; and here
had sold us a _Neapolitan cat_ in place of a _Sicilian hare_!"
"_Come!_ a cat?" (for we called to mind what each of puss's _nine_
lives had cost us, and determined to die game for it), "_that_ coin a
_counterfeit_?" "Si--Sig-no-re!" in that sort of sing-song gamut twang
in which one Roman answers another's incredulity--"_anzi falsissimo_,"
with a most provoking lengthening out of the second syllable of that
most provoking superlative; he knew all about its fabrication; the
_gentleman_ who made these coins was an acquaintance--not a _friend_
of his; the original coin being in request, and somewhat expensive, he
had contrived to get up a new issue of the Messina Hare,[55] which was
much in vogue, and seemed, like Gay's Hare, to court an extensive
acquaintance, and many friends. "That _Himera_[56] hen is of a brood
that never lays golden eggs, and the sooner you can get rid of her the
better. Time was when such poultry fetched its price; now, thanks to
the prolific process of our modern hatchings, we see her as often in
the market as widgeon, snipe, or plovers. _That's_ a fine lion; 'tis
a pity you've no lioness to match him; but one such real _Rhegium
leone_ is worth a host of counterfeits,--'_unus, sane, at Leo_'. As to
your Ptolemies' eagles here, at least they are well preserved, and
that always should give a coin some claim to a place in a _beginner's_
collection; though to us dealers, who see many of them, these eagles
at last become somewhat uninteresting and vulgar birds. What a
collection is here of Hieros[57] on horseback, all in good plight too!
Well, I might have bought _in_ or _out_ of these ranks myself; but _I_
should not, I think, like you, have purchased the whole troop--of
course you paid but little for them." "Yes," said we timidly, "not
overmuch, not more than they were worth perhaps, six pauls a-piece,"
and we coughed nervously, and expected him to speak encouragingly; but
he said nothing, and proceeded with his scrutiny of our box. "_Per
Bacco!_ What a quantity of cuttlefish! Methinks Syracuse has rather
overdone you with her _Lobigo_, but _that_ at least is genuine, for
'tis too cheap to make money of by imitation. This of _Naxos_ will do.
_This_ of Tarentum, _va bene!_ this of _Locri, corresponde_." A faint
"bravo!" escapes him on taking up an Athenian Tetradrachm, with the
_Archer's_ name on the field; but he takes no note, has no "winged
words" to throw away upon our winged horses, though every nag of them,
we know, came from Corinth or from Argos.
The bearded corn of Metapontus, with Ceres or Mars on the reverse:
Arion on his dolphin--that beautiful, most beautiful of coins--were,
together with sundry others, all too common for his antiquarian eye to
take pleasure in; he sought something less frequently presented to it,
and at last he found it in a Croton coin with a rare reverse, which,
"would we sell him, he would take at twenty dollars, and pay us in
_living_ silver." A bow told him we were not disposed to part with it.
And now he comes to what we consider to be our finest piece,--our
Lipari bronze! And on it is a fat _dolphin_ sporting on a _green_ sea.
Dedomenicis' manner is vastly discouraging, and we are prepared for
new disappointment, yet we could have sworn that _that_ coin was
genuine. But if false, as he believes it to be, why then not have done
with it? why put it down to take it up _again_? why ask whether _we_
don't repute it false, when he knows we know nothing of the matter?
And why _mouse_ it so closely under his keen eye, and look round the
rim of it, and examine the face of it, and appear as if he would
penetrate into its very soul,[58] and get at its history? Oh! 'tis all
right, then; if "he may be mistaken," doubtless he _is_ so: and this
is confirmed by his now proposing--thinking an exchange no robbery, of
course--to exchange it for us. Ingenuous man! who hadst twice invoked
the saints and the Madonna in our behalf when thou heardest the price
we paid for our unlucky Hare; and when thou knewest how C---- had
beguiled us into taking, and paying for a _Roman_, the price of an
_Etruscan_ "As;" and now thou wouldst have robbed us of our best coin,
have deprived us of the very _Delphin classic_ of our collection; it
won't do! Our Messenian hare is welcome, but, old æruscator, we cannot
let you swim away on our dolphin; and we rise to _replace him_ in our
_monetaro_ accordingly.
A third interview with Dedomenicis is recorded in our entry-book of
such matters.--"Here are the coins, Signor, which you gave me to clean
last week: they are ten in number, for which you owe me as many
pauls.--_Eccole!_" "Ah," said we, "you have not made much of them, I
fear." "Look and see," was the laconic reply. By which time we had
taken up the first, and were pleased to find that an Augustus, whose
lineaments we could hardly recognise, when we gave him to Dedomenicis
to _scale_, had come back to us perfectly restored. "Why,
Dedomenicis," said we, "this is a restitution better than Trajan's, of
this very Emperor's coinage; for that, after all, was but the
_imitation_ of an old mint; but yours the _restoration_ of the old one
itself. Henceforth I prefer _Dedomenicis' restituit_ to _Trajan's
restituit_." "Well, then, when you have looked over the others, you
will, I dare say, pay these and them at the same rate, as if they had
been the issues of that Emperor."[59] We were indeed surprised at what
we saw, so much had all our coins gained by the process to which
Dedomenicis had subjected them. The second we took up represented the
_Ostian harbour_, (Portus Ostiensis.) We had given it to him with a
_foul bottom_--it was restored to us with its basin cleared out, and
with all its shipping, just as it used to look in the days of Nero; in
another, the whole arena of the Colosseum had been disencumbered; in
another, Antonine's column shone bright from top to bottom; here we
saw _Honos et Virtus_ (honour and military prowess) again taking the
field; here the scales of Justice once more appeared, and librated
freely in her hand; here Hope resumed her green trefoil; Pudicity
_un_veils her face; and there sat Fecundity on a curule seat, with all
her family about her; lastly, there were those three scandalous
sisters of Caligula--the Misses _Money_ (Moneta,)[60]--standing
together with their arms intertwined, and their names at their backs.
All these ten restitutions cost only ten pauls! "And how did you
manage to clean then so well, Dedomenicis?" "_Col tempo ed il
temperino_,"--with time and a penknife: "_Ma ci vuo il genio_,"--you
must have a talent for it.
SCALING A COIN.
"_Ci vuo il genio_,"--he was right; and think you 'tis so easy or
simple a thing to clean a coin? to unmask an empress, pertinacious in
her disguise, or to _scrape_ acquaintance with emperors? Try it;--not
that you will succeed; but that the difficulties which you are thus
made to encounter in the attempt, will dispose you the more readily to
do justice to the skill of those who succeed in this delicate process,
which, like the finer operations of surgery, requires at once
precision and address, great nicety in the handling of your
instrument; while the importance attached to the operation itself
makes the successful performance of it not a little desirable. The
penknife, guided by a _dexterous_ hand, may light upon a discovery
that has been buried for ages; and a pin's point may make revelations
sufficient to adjust some obscure point in history. Who knows what
face may now lie hid (_facies dicatur an ulcus?_) under some obscure
coating of paste? What an it be a Vitellius; what if a Pertinax should
reveal himself? or suppose, when you have removed the foul _larvæ_,
you _undermine_ a Matidia! a Plotina!! an Annia Faustina!!! and your
fortune is made! 'Tis a lottery, we admit. But the very principle of
the excitement--the charm is, that you know not what _may_ turn up;
for a less chance, you may possibly have bought a "Terno" in a
Frankfort lottery, the chance of an estate on the Moselle! But there
are small prizes to be picked up occasionally--and here's a case in
point:--"I was one day sauntering," said our friend C----, "by the
tomb of Cecilia Metella, when a peasant came up with a handful of very
dirty-looking coins, so firmly encrusted with mortar, that it seemed
absurd to attempt its removal. Having nothing particular to do, and
liking the wild quiet of the spot, I gave some 'baiocchi' to the man;
and taking my seat on a bit of the old aqueduct, I opened my penknife,
and began to scrape away. At first I saw the _trace_ of a letter; and
digging round it, I at length disinterred a large M----a Roman M! It
was probably Maximin, or his son Maximus, that I then had under my
thumb; but it _might_ be a Marinus, in which case it was a valuable
coin; so I wrought on with renewed vigour, and presently an _L_ was in
the _field_. A better prospect this than the last; for if it turned
out to be an Æmilianus, I should have made a good morning's work of
it--and it was so! Little by little, line by line, grain by grain, I
opened the field, till _C. Julius Æmilianus, Pontif: Max: in a full
epigraphe, shone forth with the imperial_ head in full relief, all in
a bright emerald patina. I have seen several Æmilianuses, but none
like that; and it cost me only a penny."
Now, touching the difficulties in your way--should you still fancy
them to be imaginary--take any dirty coin _nigra moneta sordibus_, and
try to clean it; oil it, and scrub it as you may; pick into, poke at,
finally, waste your whole morning over it, till your back aches, and
your penknife is blunted; you will have to confess at last that your
labour has been lost! Your only chance, then, is the fire; and if the
_actual cautery_ fails, there is no longer any hope. As in learning to
scale properly, you must come to sacrifice _a great many coins_ before
you can hope to succeed, _fiat experimentum in corpore vili_--begin
with those that are worthless. Never mind scratching a Faustina's
face; set no store by Nero; you may, if you like, mutilate as many
_Domitians_ as that emperor mutilated flies. For why?--they cost
nothing; unless, indeed, there were something to be gained by
_reversing_ the picture. But this only while learning, and to learn;
for when you _know_ how to clean a coin properly, you will hardly
waste your time in adding new Trajans to the ten thousands already in
existence; nor whet your curiosity or steel upon an empress, known to
be as common in bronze as she was wont to be in the flesh! When you
have a really valuable coin, on which your pains will not be thrown
away, your mode of procedure is, first to scrape, with extreme
caution, on some small spot by the margin, till you have taken your
proper soundings, and come down to the _patina_. Your next step must
be, to ascertain whether that patina is hard, or soft and friable; in
which latter case you will have to use all diligence not to poke your
penknife in Crispina's eyeball, nor to wound her husband, with a few
days' beard upon his chin. No _healing process_ can help you here to
undo your clumsy surgery and want of skill. He will remain
_cicatrised_, and she _lippa_ for life. Each separate feature requires
renewed care. When your minute manipulations have brought out the
eyeball _unspecked_, then comes the nose; and to remove the closely
sticking plaster from its side, and expose uninjured the curling
nostril underneath, requires more than Taliacotian sleight of hand to
manage properly. You must not trifle with Faustina's _hair_, nor with
Philip's _beard_. The "_flava coma_," which we do not consider as
ornamental at any time, looks far worse in _brass_ than in _golden_
tresses. You must be an aurist when you come to the ear. Deal with the
ear, and remember that it has its _portio mollis_ as you gently probe
your way into its tube. Need we insist upon the necessity of
respecting a lady's _lips_? and yet you will wound them, unless you
are careful. And when all is done, you may find that your coin is no
sooner cleaned, than it is seized with the _smallpox_,[61] which will
become _confluent_ and spread, unless properly instructed. You have
probed each cicatrix to the bottom, and filled the minute holes with
_ink_. Thus you will see that patience, tact, and care are all
required in scaling a coin; or, as Dedomenicis said, _ci vuo il
genio_!
The collecting coins is a pleasant way of learning the chronology of
the royal families of antiquity; and if you are culpably negligent in
their arrangement, the first dealer who sees your cabinet takes care
to apprize you of your mistakes, and will generally rate you soundly
as he does so. The first time Dedomenicis visited our collection of
the Roman emperors, he was in a great taking on detecting (which he
did not fail to do at a glance) various anachronisms in our
arrangement. "By all that should be, if here is not Agrippina the wife
of Germanicus, and Claudius's Agrippina, in next-door neighbourhood!
the two Faustinas (_che scandalo, dottore mio!_) lying side by side
with _strange husbands_! Philip junior deposing his own father--_ci
avevano questa consuetudine_, so let that pass; but here is a more
serious affair. Pray separate all these Julias a little, my dear sir,
_caro lei_, (looking at us very reproachfully;) here, in this one
tray, you have mixed, introduced, and confounded together all the
Julias of the Roman empire! Julia, the daughter of Titus, alone in her
right place beside her first consort Domitian. But Julia Pia and Julia
Domna are but the _aliases_ of the same empress, the wife of Septimius
Severus; and here you have placed by mistake Julia Paula, the wife of
Eliogabalus, after Julia Mammæa, who you _must_ remember married
Maximin. Pray attend to these things; and whenever your series is
deficient, leave vacant spaces in your trays to mark the deficiencies.
Don't crowd your emperors thus together, when time has separated them
in history," &c. &c. &c. We promised faithfully to attend to these
hints; but it was all to no purpose, for in one week our friends, to
whom we used to show our collection properly arranged, would again
involve our chronology in inextricable confusion, especially certain
dear young ladies of our acquaintance, who, by no means showing the
same respect for old Time that old Time continued to demonstrate
towards them, would make light of whole centuries; and we have known
them so regardless of all dates, except perhaps their own, as to bring
up a Constantine or Maxentius, and to place them under the very nose
of Augustus!
FOOTNOTES:
[54] It is worth noting, because one does not see why it is so, that
the only imperial _birbone_ of the lot universally known and execrated
at Rome is _Nero_. One is much better able to understand (with Capri
in front of one's windows) why a like exclusive and unenviable
popularity at Naples attaches to _Tiberius_.
[55] The _hare_ was first introduced into Sicily by Anaxilaus of
Rhegium, and was adopted by the Messenians on their coins, as was also
the _chariot_, in commemoration of his victory in the _mule_ races at
Olympia.
[56] On the urbic coins of Aquinum, Suessa, and Tiano, which are
generally of bronze, the _cock_ figures on one side, the subject on
the other varying; on those of Himera (a silver currency,) chanticleer
is always confronted on the reverse by Dame Partlett.