CHAPTER XXV.
CHANGE OF DOMICILE—FRANCESCO—FRIENDS FROM ENGLAND—PICTURE-SHOPS—OLD PAINTINGS—ARTISTS AND THEIR PATRONS—MR. TITMARSH—ANECDOTE OF N—— —THE DINNER AT BERTINI’s—THE ENGLISH ACADEMY—TABLE TALK—HARMONY—THE AMERICANS—ROMAN GAIETIES—TORLONIA’S—THE FESTINI—HOSPITAL OF SAN MICHELE—THE QUIRINAL—VIA GREGORIANA—MR. RAVEN AGAIN—THE ENGLISH CHURCH—THE FRIENDS’ MEETING-HOUSE—ILLUMINATION OF ST. PETER’S.
CHANGE OF DOMICILE—FRANCESCO—FRIENDS FROM ENGLAND—PICTURE-SHOPS—OLD PAINTINGS—ARTISTS AND THEIR PATRONS—MR. TITMARSH—ANECDOTE OF N—— —THE DINNER AT BERTINI’s—THE ENGLISH ACADEMY—TABLE TALK—HARMONY—THE AMERICANS—ROMAN GAIETIES—TORLONIA’S—THE FESTINI—HOSPITAL OF SAN MICHELE—THE QUIRINAL—VIA GREGORIANA—MR. RAVEN AGAIN—THE ENGLISH CHURCH—THE FRIENDS’ MEETING-HOUSE—ILLUMINATION OF ST. PETER’S.
Being informed that my old friend Quatremolle, the artist, had taken a studio outside the Porta del Popolo, I called on him the day after my arrival, and found him snugly located in a Casino belonging to the Borghese Gardens, exactly opposite the building known as the English Church. I had no sooner made my appearance, and told him that I was roofless, my old rooms in the Sistina being occupied, than he introduced me to a fine unfurnished room, adjoining his own, of which he said I might at once take possession. The proposal was liberal, and the situation, if not the most convenient, was at least so agreeable that I hastened to anupholsterer in the Corso, who supplied me on hire with such few articles of furniture as were necessary, and in the course of a few days I was snugly settled in my new quarters. Francesco, theBarbarossa, served us in the capacity of factotum, lighting the fires in the morning, and running for red herrings and butter to the shop of a neighbouringpizzicarolo. Underneath my room was a decent coffee-shop, from whence two or three taps upon the floor would produce my breakfast, whilst for dinner I paid the usual mid-day visit to the “Lepri.”
I was busy one morning in finishing up a Venetian sketch, when I was surprised by the apparition of an intimate acquaintance, fresh from England. He was travelling in quest of health with two of his friends, to whom he introduced me at the Hotel d’Angleterre, and as they appeared resolved to see all they could of Rome, a week or more was passed in one continued round of sight-seeing. The galleries, however, were the great objects of attraction, and there were very few that escaped their notice, to say nothing of the host of picture-shops which they visited in search of bargains. Mack himself would hardly have displayed greater perseverance in ferretting among old worm-eaten and decayed rubbish, than did my London friends, whohave to answer for the rubbing up of many an atrocious daub, which, but for their extraordinary resolution, would never again have known the smell of varnish. Small dealers, who had hitherto never possessed anything beyond a Sacchi or a Bassano, now suddenly became the proprietors of sundry undoubted Correggios, or maybe an indisputable Sebastian del Piombo, in a mahogany frame, with a lock and a glass window. Almost every one had a genuine Nicolo Poussin, an unfortunate who might now have been living had he painted two-thirds of the pictures ascribed to him. This poor man too appears to have possessed the queer habit of obliterating his own foregrounds with an over-coating of brambles and brushwood; the sagacious dealer never failing to declare, that by the merest accident imaginable, the genuine picture was brought to light by the removal of a thick over-stratum of paint.
After having pretty well visited all the sights of Rome, and filled a large deal case with plasters, bronzes, mosaics, and paintings, my friends started off one fine morning for Florence, leaving behind them one of their party who was in poor health. This gentleman had been strongly recommended toDr.P., an English physician of great and deserved popularity, who had made Rome his residence,and the introduction was no sooner effected, than W. put himself into the doctor’s hands, and taking a commodious suite of rooms in the Via Gregoriana, settled down for the winter. I staid a month or more in the studio outside the Popolo, when my friend Quatremolle decided on giving up the place and going northwards, and I then joined W——, who had begun to weary of living alone. Christmas time was fast approaching, and Rome becoming every day more and more crowded with English and other strangers, and consequent upon their arrival was a rapid succession of evening parties and artistical réunions. The brothers of the brush are not less averse than others to glitter in the reflected light of such stars of great magnitude, as twinkle away the winter in the Holy City, and when one of them does manage to nail a great man, there is generally some little manifestation of exclusiveness. Patrons, however, are by no means so plentiful as to be held in very light estimation, and the feeling is therefore excusable, whilst there can be no harm in fête-ing a pseudo-connoisseur with his own scudi, or standing treat at the Aliberti to Lord this, or the Marquis of that, with a heavy draft on Torlonia in prospectu. Of the great men who visited Rome during this winter, M. A. Titmarsh was among the most popular. Himself an artist, he droppeddown among us on his way from Cairo, no one knowing when he came or how he went away. Installed in a quiet bed-room at Franz’s, in the Condotti, he appeared to amuse himself, like Asmodeus, with peering into the studios of his countrymen, and while he rummaged over their dusty portfolios, or critically scanned the pictures on the wall, would unconsciously read their secret thoughts, and penetrate, as it were, the arcana of their pockets, without allowing them for a moment to imagine that he intended aught save a mere friendly visit. Many, however, were the poor devils who managed to push through the winter on the strength of the timely fillip administered by Titmarsh,[40]who was moreover one of those pleasant paymasters who get a bad character because they make their settlementsbeforehand. Painting, however, ought certainly to be a ready-money business, as artists seldom like to give, what they somehow always manage to take—long credits; and as they never approach nearer to the practice of book-keeping than a chalk or charcoal memorandum on the wall or door-post, possess the happy knack of never knowing how their accounts stand, or may take the same businesslike view of a transaction, as my friend Savill, who declared thatMr.Milnes owed him £25. for a picture, which he afterwards gravely admitted he had neither commenced nor thought about.
I met Titmarsh at many of the evening parties which were held at this season by the artists. Perhaps the greatest display of this sort was made on a certain holiday, when the whole of us dined together at Bertini’s, and he was voted into the chair. It happened unfortunately, that the dinner provided on the occasion was of a most indifferent character, and very ill-calculated to impress the F. C. with any great idea of Roman advancement in gastronomy. Our motive, however, for thus meeting in a social way, was not that of mere feasting: a great amount of elocution had to be got through, in addition to the usual round of song and sentiment. It happenedjust at this time, that there was a schism among the members of the English Academy in Rome respecting a proposition originating with Mack,—that an Italian Professor of drawing should be appointed to the Academy! This proposal had met with the most vigorous and animated opposition from the other faction, headed by O’Neil, who had proved himself a most able champion, having set forth in an eloquent and elaborate speech, the consequences of such a measure,—the impropriety of introducing an Italian style of drawing to the annihilation of all originality,—the injustice of placing a master over men who never would submit to his criticism, and the unenviable position in which such a master would necessarily be placed,—the reflection, in fact, upon the state of English art, and other weighty considerations. O’Neil was supported by men of eminence and standing, as well as by a very conclusive argument adduced by the Secretary, who proved that the funds of the institution would ill support the expense. Mack, however, like an able general, having canvassed the whole body beforehand, carried his motion by a majority of eight! The master therefore was appointed,notas Professor of drawing to the English Academy, but to give his assistance to such as might ask it, a qualification of theoriginal measure, which it was hoped would meet the views of all parties.
With this important question fresh upon the tapis, it was no wonder that a considerable portion of the evening was consumed in long-winded speeches, and had it not been for a deeply guttural proposal on the part of our friend Beardman, “to take the basso part in a glee,” a harmonious feeling would scarcely have been arrived at. His instigation was succeeded by a call for a song from the chair, amid a vociferous shout of “Viva Titmarsh!” and a deafening clatter of dessert furniture. Our great friend assured us he was unable to sing, but would endeavour to make amends by getting up a recitation, if some one in the mean time would make a beginning. Whilst a few, therefore, on the right of the chair, were tantalizing the company by a tortured version of one of Calcott’s glees, the F. C., busy with his tablets under the table, produced the following affecting narrative, of which he soon after delivered himself in a fittingly lugubrious tone of voice.
THE THREE SAILORS.
There were three sailors in Bristol City,Who took a boat and went to sea.But first with beef and captains’ biscuit,And pickled pork they loaded she.There was guzzling Jack and gorging Jimmy,And the youngest he was little Bil-ly.Now very soon they were so greedy,They did’nt leave not one split pea.Says guzzling Jack to gorging Jimmy,I am confounded hung-ery.Says gorging Jim to guzzling Jacky,We have no wittles, so we must eatwe.Says guzzling Jack to gorging Jimmy,Oh! gorging Jim, what a fool you be.There’s little Bill as is young and tender,We’re old and tough—so let’s eathe.Oh! Bill, we’re going to kill and eat you,So undo the collar of your chemie.When Bill he heard this information,He used his pocket-handkerchee.Oh! let me say my Catechism,As my poor mammy taught to me.Make haste, make haste, says guzzling Jacky,Whilst Jim pulled out his snicker-snee.So Bill went up the main top-gallant mast,When down he fell on his bended knee.He scarce had said his catechism,When up he jumps; there’s land I see!There’s Jerusalem and Madagascar,And North and South Ameri-key.There’s the British fleet a riding at anchor,With Admiral Napier, K.C.B.So when they came to the Admiral’s Vessel,He hanged fat Jack, and flogged Jim-my.But as for little Bill, he made himThe Captain of a Seventy-three.
It is needless to say that the recital of M. A. Titmarsh was received with all the applause it merited. Even the “Emperor,” stoically indifferent as he uniformly was to either music or moral, was betrayed into some expression of feeling, distinctly audible to those near him, whilst he repeatedly pledged the author of the interesting ballad. Other songs followed as a matter of course, but our ears were become so accustomed to the oft-heard and unvarying effusions of our brother artists, that few of them elicited farther comment than a faint “bravo,” or a few raps upon the table, and we were beginning to think of separating, when our chairman received a polite message from a party of Americans, who had been dining in another room. With a laudable wish to sink a certain feeling of national prejudice, which I believe some of the English entertained against “Brother Jonathan,” these gentlemen expressed a desire to fraternize and join us, a proposal which so aroused the bile of Vetch and Warmey, that they immediately quitted the apartment in a state of great excitement, whilst our esteemedchairman formed, and personally headed, a mission of peace into the quarters of the enemy, who afterwards gave us their company for the rest of the evening.
With the commencement of February came the Carnival again, a more brilliant affair this year than the last, in consequence of the great number of strangers wintering in Rome. Among the English, and others, there was a constant succession of evening parties in every grade of style and grandeur, from the grand crash at Torlonia’s to the quiet tea-drink of a first-floor in the Due Macelli. Great was the dismay of those unfortunate bachelors, who had been so unwary as to place their temporary accounts in the hands of one of the Condotti bankers, to find their names excluded from the long list of eligibles on the books of the Signor Spada. No large card with the attracting German-text of the Principe and Principessa, greeted them from the corners of their chimney-glasses, and unless they could squeeze themselves in under cover of the family invite of some large party of English friends, or suddenly transfer their accounts, thesalonsof the mighty banker were to them aterra incognita.
At one of the Festini in the Argentina, which were this time particularly gay, I made the acquaintance of anagreeable family, through the medium of the father, who puzzled me for many nights, by a well-dressed character, and extraordinary command of language. My new friends, having been long resident in Italy, introduced me to many Roman families whom I should otherwise scarcely have fallen in with, to whose kindness I am indebted for many subsequent obligations. In company with H. and his amiable wife, I visited, among other places, the Hospital of San Michele, for which purpose he had obtained a private order from Cardinal Tosti, the resident director of the institution. At this admirable establishment, five hundred of the Roman youth of both sexes are clothed and maintained, having also the advantage of a good education, and the opportunity of qualifying themselves for any trade that may appear most suitable to their tastes. A young Italian showed us over the building, which is situated on the right bank of the Tiber, below the Ponte Rotto. We found a number of youths busied at various artistical occupations, such as architectural drawing, engraving on copper, cartooning, music, tapestry, and the cutting ofpietra duraand camei, whilst on the ground-floor were sculptors’ studios, and shops for weavers and dyers of cloth.
In another part of the establishment were the girls, likewise employed in various branches of useful labour, as spinning, weaving, and the manufacture of army ornaments. All those of the Papal troops are made here, from the coloured flames on the coat-tails of the recruit, to the pink plume of the Swiss guard. The bed-rooms are particularly neat and comfortable, some of the dormitories containing as many as fifty beds. In answer to an inquiry from one of our party, why some of these beds were larger than others, resembling in fact a genuine four-poster, the old lady who conducted us informed us that, in the event of a marriage taking place in the institution, the fortunate couple were presented with a good bed and its furniture by way of a portion. We saw the kitchens, which are admirably fitted up, the girls acting as cooks for the female department. In a spacious yard were an incredible number of hens, each girl keeping as many as she can afford to nourish, disposing of the eggs to furnish pocket-money.
From San Michele we drove back to the Quirinal, to view the palace of the Pope, which, of all the regal dwellings I ever visited, is decidedly the least ostentatious. Our guide informed us that stuffed chair-bottoms were forbidden, and certainly the seats in the reception room, which were ofpainted wood and of the most ordinary description, seemed to corroborate his assertion. The private rooms of the great Vicar were nevertheless somewhat more comfortable, and in one apartment, a well-appointed billiard-table evinced a degree of luxury ill-according with the rest of the furniture. Fancy Cardinal B——i, starring with two lives and pocketing the Pope!
As W. and I were one day dozing after dinner in the “Via Gregoriana,” Settimio silently ushered in a tall figure, whose face, as he peered at us over the baize screen, I recognized as that of my old friendMr.Raven. He was on his way to England, after having spent many years of usefulness in Egypt, in the personal direction of the Overland transit, which had now passed into other hands. How he had managed to discover my whereabouts, was of no moment; few visitors could have been more welcome; and finding that he proposed spending some days in Rome, to give his protegeé and travelling companion an opportunity of seeing some of its wonders, I offered to assist him to the best of my ability. My friends had arrived just in time to witness some of the ceremonies of the Holy Week, and had the satisfaction of seeing one of the grand processions inSt.Peter’s, and hearing the solemn music of the Sistine.At the former, the King of Naples, although not wearing any uniform, was conspicuous among the crowd, which was dotted in all parts with our militia officers, whose cocked hats and gay coats, have a very imposing appearance in the eyes of the worthy Romans, who don’t know a recruiting sergeant from a field marshal.
The English Church, to which I have before alluded as being little better than a mere barn, isoutsidethe Porta del Popolo. It seems strange that this manifestation of intolerance should exist in a capital like Rome, and it is to be hoped that the more enlightened policy which has marked the opening of the new Pontificate, will be allowed to extend to matters of greater moment than the licensing of itinerant hawkers, or the extension of iron-roads throughout the Papal states, and that before long, it will be unnecessary for those professing with the Church of England to pass beyond the walls of the city, to reach their place of worship. This veto, however, would hardly appear to extend to those who dissent therefrom, inasmuch as for many weeks, W. and I attended the little meeting of Friends, which was held in a small street leading out of the Piazza di Spagna. We met in a little room belonging to the apartment of our friend B——n, which opened at one side on to the leads of thehouse underneath, and at the back looked out upon the slopes of the Pincian Hill. I often thought (when my thoughts should have been better engaged) that, had any of the good friends from the benches of Devonshire House popped in accidentally upon us, they would have found some difficulty in recognising a gathering of their own particular people. Although few in number, we mustered some black moustaches, and, I believe, a beard or two, whilst our female friends, of whom we had the company of four or five, would, I fear, scarcely have passed muster at the great May Meeting in Bishopsgate. With respect to the hat, to which some attach so distinguished an importance, the most fastidious would hardly have found fault, for the remotest corners of Pennsylvania never gave birth to a more preposterous breadth of brim, than that possessed by my owncinque-cento, whilst those of my friends were of such dimensions as best suited the sunny climate of Rome.
FRIENDS’ MEETING AT ROME
FRIENDS’ MEETING AT ROME.
On one occasion of our meeting together, the sitting was somewhat abruptly concluded by a deafening salute from the cannons ofSt.Angelo, which shook the verypiombiof friend B——n. It was Easter Day, and the Pope had just pronounced a blessing upon the thousands of soulsassembled in the Piazza ofSt.Peter’s. After we had separated, I hunted up my friend Raven, who had just returned from the “Benediction,” and with him visited some of the Roman villas, going subsequently to the PonteSt.Angelo, to secure a convenient window for the fireworks of the following day. In the evening we drove to a favourable position in the great square ofSt.Peter, where, hemmed in by hundreds of vehicles, we had to wait until the illumination of the Duomo should commence. Being curious to see the method of lighting the lamps, I left the party in the carriage, and squeezing through the dense crowd, got as near as I could to the church. The whole façade was stuck over with bajocco candles, each having a little wooden stand and shade of stiff paper to keep off the wind, and these were arranged in such a way as perfectly to develope the architectural outlines of the building. The candles were ignited by men suspended from the top of the façade, looking, as they dangled on their ropes in mid-air, like the fowlers of the Orkneys, and plying apparently quite as perilous a pursuit. I now returned to Raven, but the pressure of the crowd was so great, that the lighting up of the cupola had commenced before I reached him. This seems to be effected by the simultaneous ignition of an immense number ofsmall pots of tow and turpentine, placed in proper position, in belts around the dome, and in vertical lines between the gores, there being one man to about every ten lamps. These poor fellows have a very dangerous task to perform, being suspended by ropes passing through apertures in the dome. Sometimes, though rarely, one of them misses his hold, and extinguishes in his fall the row of lamps he has just lighted, which have been remarked to go out one by one, as the unfortunate scrapes them off in his rapid descent. Having satisfied ourselves with a near inspection of this really wonderful and costly exhibition, we returned to view it at a distance from the summit of the Pincian.
FOOTNOTES:[40]That artists are sometimes grievouslyhard up, there can be little doubt. I happened one cold morning, to call upon N——, whose absence from his usual seat at the Lepri had been remarked by many of us. Instead of finding him, as I had anticipated, unusually busy with his chisel, he was engaged in shooting his dinner at the open window of the garret, which commanded an extensive range of leads, tiles and gutters. His sport, which he pursued in solemn silence, was the common sparrow, and his weapon a machine much in use among lawyers’ clerks when the principal has turned his back, known by the name of apuff and dart, from which any one with a good pair of lungs, can expel pin with great force. Having knocked over nearly a dozen birds, N—— walked out of window to collect them, and then plucked and spitted them, enjoying his repast with a thankful relish unknown to those who get a good dinner every day.
[40]That artists are sometimes grievouslyhard up, there can be little doubt. I happened one cold morning, to call upon N——, whose absence from his usual seat at the Lepri had been remarked by many of us. Instead of finding him, as I had anticipated, unusually busy with his chisel, he was engaged in shooting his dinner at the open window of the garret, which commanded an extensive range of leads, tiles and gutters. His sport, which he pursued in solemn silence, was the common sparrow, and his weapon a machine much in use among lawyers’ clerks when the principal has turned his back, known by the name of apuff and dart, from which any one with a good pair of lungs, can expel pin with great force. Having knocked over nearly a dozen birds, N—— walked out of window to collect them, and then plucked and spitted them, enjoying his repast with a thankful relish unknown to those who get a good dinner every day.
[40]That artists are sometimes grievouslyhard up, there can be little doubt. I happened one cold morning, to call upon N——, whose absence from his usual seat at the Lepri had been remarked by many of us. Instead of finding him, as I had anticipated, unusually busy with his chisel, he was engaged in shooting his dinner at the open window of the garret, which commanded an extensive range of leads, tiles and gutters. His sport, which he pursued in solemn silence, was the common sparrow, and his weapon a machine much in use among lawyers’ clerks when the principal has turned his back, known by the name of apuff and dart, from which any one with a good pair of lungs, can expel pin with great force. Having knocked over nearly a dozen birds, N—— walked out of window to collect them, and then plucked and spitted them, enjoying his repast with a thankful relish unknown to those who get a good dinner every day.