Three Months Abroad Part 5

The guides had pointed out to us the lava streams of the different eruptions, and the immense stones and pieces of rock which were ejected by the volcano in 1822. In looking at these formidable pieces of rock, of which some were at a great distance from the crater, one gets an idea of the power that is working within it, and the fate of Herculaneum and Pompeii becomes intelligible. The latter place we had visited the day before. All I felt there is expressed in those few words: "Sic transit gloria mundi." But never before had I realized so fully what the instability of all earthly greatness means. In this city of the dead I felt far, far removed from the present, and my mind for a moment seemed to realize what the future really means. A time, when the lovely city I had just left would have disappeared from the face of the earth, and its old site be a matter of doubt and uncertainty, when the language of Dante would survive perhaps in his book only, when the very features of sea and mountain around me might be changed; for had not eighteen hundred years ago, the waves of the gulf washed the walls of Pompeii that now lies far inland, and another Vesuvius burned than the one we ascended? And I saw with my mind's eye the proud city across the sea, which I had left a few months before, as Macaulay, thinking of a time to come, describes it, a heap of ruins; and a traveller in a strange dress, speaking a language which is not yet formed, sitting on a broken arch of London Bridge, meditating like me at that moment on the truth of the words, "Sic transit gloria mundi." We did not, as Murray recommends, enter Pompeii by the Strada dei Sepolcri, but through the Porta del Mare, and I liked it better, as the Strada de Sepolcri forms the fittest finale of the town.

I have heard of people who have been disappointed in Pompeii, others have said the same of the Acropolis. I cannot understand such people.

They must be more dead than the very stones there, for they spoke to me, and what they said moved me deeply. When I first entered the city of the dead, I felt strange and bewildered like in a dream. Surely "reality is stranger than fiction." What can be more strange than that the sun should shine again into the streets, and light up the painted walls and mosaic pavement of Pompeii. And yet so it is. That very old Pompeii, that lay for nearly eighteen centuries buried, is risen again. We walk through its streets, and tread the very stones worn out by the footsteps of Roman citizens, and by the wheels of their chariots.

We see their houses, their temples, their judgment halls, their baths and theatres, their gardens and court-yards, in which however the little fountain is silenced for ever. In walking into their houses we seem to become strangely familiar with their former inhabitants; we see everywhere traces of their being, of their virtues and vices, of their greatness and their folly. I daresay by night the spirits of the departed haunt the silent town; but it was by broad cheerful daylight that I visited it, and therefore it seemed inhabited only by pretty little lizards, which I saw flitting about on every wall, and between the delicate ferns that grow in the silent streets of Pompeii.

Of our journey from Naples to Leghorn, there is not much to be said, although it was very pleasant. We went with the Italian steamer "Principe Umberto," which was filled with pa.s.sengers, most of whom were going like ourselves to Florence, for the Dante festival, which was to be celebrated there on the 14th, 15th, and 16th of May. Several of the pa.s.sengers were deputies sent to Florence from different towns in Calabria. The company was lively and merry. The piano in the saloon sounded almost the whole day, but being touched by skilful fingers it did not annoy me like the performances of the young ladies from Constantinople, or the quadrilles of the young English officer.

We arrived at Leghorn on the 13th of May, after a journey of twenty-four hours, there we remained the night, not daring to proceed to Florence, for we knew that all the hotels were over-crowded, and that we should find it difficult to get a room if we arrived late at night.

After a stroll through the town, which is a well built modern place, we went to rest, in order to be better able to bear the fatigues, and enjoy the pleasures of the days to come.

CHAPTER V.

THE DANTE FESTIVAL AT FLORENCE.

"Del bel paese la dove il si suona."

DANTE.

And now the great day had come, the 14th of May, 1865! I had to rise very early, for we intended to leave by the first train, which started from Leghorn at four o'clock in the morning. Although rather averse to early rising in England, it cost me no effort here. The thought of going to Florence roused me, besides the warm bright twilight of an Italian May morning lighted up my bedroom, and the street was already full of people, all in holiday dress, and taking the road towards the station, in order to secure places in the train that was to take them to Florence.

We were not the last in the crowd, and three hours after, arrived at Florence, where Italy was going to celebrate on that day the sixth centenary anniversary of the birth of Dante. Truly this solemn event happened "in the fulness of time," and every thing concurred to make it as splendid and happy a festival as any nation has ever celebrated. Now, for the first time, the grand idea of Dante, a free and united Italy, has almost become a complete reality, and the hearts of all his people rejoice that from the Alps to Mount Etna, one law now reigns, and hopefully trust that the other great thought of Dante, the deliverance of the Church from the burden of temporal power, will ere long also become a reality. The disappointment and irritation the Italians felt at the loss of Savoy and Nice, has almost entirely pa.s.sed, while what they have gained has still all the charm of a new possession, and something of the pa.s.sion and enthusiasm of honeymoon-love in it. Is it therefore to be wondered at that the people of Italy rejoiced on the 14th of May?

that every countenance wore a smile, and that their lively eyes sparkled with joy!

The festival happening in Spring-time was also a favourable circ.u.mstance. Dante, near the entrance of h.e.l.l, felt comforted because it was "la bella stagione," was it therefore not natural that it added much to the splendour and enjoyment of a fete in "blooming Florence!"

Had the anniversary happened in December or January, where could the flowers have come from, and the glory of the golden sunshine round Dante's statue. A pelting rain might easily have damped the enthusiasm of his countrymen, as it would most certainly have spoiled the pretty bonnets of his fair compatriots, that made so nice a show in seats round the Piazza Santa Croce.

Most favourable for the celebration of the anniversary of Dante's birth, was lastly, that it happened at Florence, the very town in all the world best adapted for the celebration of such an event.

Fancy a national festival at Paris or London! The size of those towns does not admit of a general decoration; but even if such a miracle could be performed, n.o.body would ever see a tenth part of it, as one would be nearly dead with fatigue getting half way from the Marble Arch to St.

Paul's. Another serious drawback are the immense mult.i.tudes that inhabit these monster towns, and create unpleasant crowds, which, to all that have not nerves of iron, and great physical strength, destroy all feeling of enjoyment. None of these unfavourable conditions existed in Florence. It is but a little place, though such a gem of a town, and can therefore be uniformly decorated, changed into a gigantic palace, through whose halls and corridors the inhabitants and visitors, that do not number by millions, gaily move. And such a place Florence appeared on that day. All the houses had red, green, or yellow silk hangings falling down from their windows, and were besides richly decorated with pictures, busts, flags, flowers, and evergreens. The n.o.ble architecture of the town, the nice clean streets, which are neither too narrow to look sombre, nor too broad not to be easily spanned by garlands of flowers, all united to produce the happiest effect. On all the princ.i.p.al places, statues of great Italians had been placed, or trophies in remembrance of some great national event, which happened on that particular spot. There was a great number of them; for the Florentines boast, and not without some reason, that if a stone were to mark every glorious memory of the town, there would hardly be a stone in Florence that did not deserve special distinction. I could not attempt to find out what all the statues and trophies meant, but even if I had looked at them all, and remembered every inscription, I could not enumerate them here, else what is to be but a chapter would become a volume.

I must however mention a fine statue of Galileo, on the Piazza Santa Maria Novella, with the following inscription:--

"A Galileo.

Finira la tua gloria quando il genere umano cessi di vedere il sole ed abitare la terra."[G]

[G] Thy glory will end, when the human race shall have ceased to see the sun, and to inhabit the earth.

Near the Ponte alla Carraia, there was a statue to Goldoni, the great writer of comedies, and on the Piazza del Duomo, those of the famous architects Arnolfo and Brunelesco. On the houses where celebrated men were born, lived, or died, tablets were placed recording their names and deeds, ornamented with banners, wreaths of flowers and laurels, and often with the bust or portrait of the ill.u.s.trious dead.

The Bruneleschi palace, where Michael Angelo lived and died, and which still contains his books, furniture, etc., interested me much. On a house in the Corso, I noticed the following inscription:--

O voi che per la via d'amor pa.s.sate volgete uno sguardo alle mure ove naque nell' aprile del 1266 Beatrice Portinari, prima e purissima fiamma, che accese il genio del Divino Poeta Dante Alighieri.[H]

[H] You that walk in the path of love, cast a look upon these walls, where in April 1266, was born Beatrice Portinari, etc.

The house of Giovanni Battista Strozzi, named the Blind, the great scholar and philosopher of the 17th century, was beautifully decorated.

I remarked also Frescobaldi's, the friend of Dante, which stands in the Via Maggio, and not far from it, on the Piazza Santa Trinita, the house in which Robert Dudley, an English mathematician of the 17th century lived, whose memory still survives in Florence.

In Sta. Maria Maggiore, I observed a tablet which marks the spot where Brunetto Latini, Dante's master, is buried. Under the name was written the following line from the Divina Comedia, which is deservedly considered a grander and more lasting monument than any that could be erected in marble:

"M'insegnavate come l'uom s'eterna."[I]

[I] You taught me how a man becomes immortal.

On the Piazza del Duomo, is the "Sa.s.so di Dante," a stone upon which the great man often sat in meditations, as lofty and grand as the glorious Dome on which he was silently gazing.

In a niche in the wall over that spot, was placed the bust of Dante, surrounded by laurel wreaths and flowers. The Piazza dei Signori, looked magnificent and most beautiful of all that part which is formed by the Loggia dei Lanzi, under whose n.o.ble arches are placed some of the finest works of art: the Theseus by Benvenuto Cellini, the Rape of the Sabines by Giovanni di Bologna, and others. This gem of architecture is at all times splendid, but now its walls were covered with the most exquisite Gobelin tapestry, after designs by Michael Angelo. They represented the history of Adam and Eve, from their creation to their expulsion from Paradise.

The greatest care had however been bestowed on the decoration of the Piazza Santa Croce, where the inauguration of the national monument to Dante was to take place. This piazza is a large oblong s.p.a.ce, whose houses were covered with flowers and rich red silk hangings, and the background was formed by the splendid marble facade of the church of Santa Croce. The piazza had been boarded and carpeted all over, and raised seats were erected for the spectators who had obtained tickets.

When these seats and the windows round the piazza were all filled, princ.i.p.ally with ladies, in the most elegant spring toilets, the effect was the gayest imaginable.

Behind the seats were placed thirty-eight paintings imitating bas-relief, ill.u.s.trating the life of Dante. The first represented him when, nine years old, he first saw Beatrice, in the house of her father; the last showed his burial in Ravenna. There were also the portraits of about forty celebrated contemporaries, translators, or commentators of Dante.

Round the piazza were placed rich banners of Florence and Tuscany, the poles of which were festooned with wreaths of laurels and flowers. On the pole of each banner was placed a tablet with some verses from the great poem of Dante; many of which antic.i.p.ated the great political and religious events of the day, for the accomplishment of which 550 years ago, Dante had longed with pa.s.sionate desire. I noted down a few, which I will transcribe here.

Soleva Roma, che'l buon mondo feo, Duo Soli aver, che l'una e l'altra strada Facean vedere, e del mondo e di Deo.

L'un l'altro ha spento, ed e giunta la spada Col pastorale: e l'un coll 'altro insieme Per viva forza mal convien che vada.[J]

_Purgatorio, Canto 26._

[J] Rome, that turned once the world to good Was wont to boast two suns, whose several beams Cast light in either way; the world's and G.o.d's.

One since has quenched the other, and the sword Is grafted on the crook; and so conjoined Each must perforce decline to worse, unawed By fear of other.

_Cary's translation._

Di oggimai, che la chiesa di Roma Per confondere in se duo reggimenti Cade nel fango, e se brutta e la soma.[K]

_Purg. Canto 26._

[K] The Church of Rome, Mixing two governments that ill a.s.sort, Hath missed her footing, fallen into the mire, And there herself and burden much defiled.

Ahi, Costantin, di quanto mal fu matre Non la tua conversion, ma quella dote, Che da te prese il primo ricco patre![L]

_Inferno, Canto 19._

[L] Ah Constantine! to how much ill gave birth Not thy conversion, but that plentous dower Which the first wealthy Father gained from thee.

_Cary's Dante._

Non fu nostra intenzion, ch'a destra mano De'nostri successor parte sedesse Parte dall'altra, del popal cristiano, Ne che le chiavi, che mi fr concesse Divenisser segnacolo in vessillo Che contra i battezzati combattesse.[M]

_Paradiso, Canto 27._

[M] No purpose was of ours That on the right hand of our successors, Part of the Christian people should be set, And part upon their left; nor that the keys, Which were vouchsafed me, should for ensign serve Unto the banners, that do levy war On the baptized.

Lo maggior don, che Dio per sua larghezza Fesse creando, ed alla sua bontate Piu conformato, e quel ch'ei piu apprezza, Fu della volonta la libertate Di che le creature intelligenti, E tutte e sole, furo e son dotate.[N]

_Paradiso, Cant._ v.

[N] Supreme of gifts which G.o.d, creating, gave Of his free bounty, sign most evident Of goodness, and in his account most prized, Was liberty of will, the boon wherewith All intellectual creatures, and them sole, He hath endowed.