CHAP. XVI.ROME.
The ensuing week was the holy one preceding Easter, and of course observed at Rome with extraordinary solemnity.
On the Sunday, being Palm-Sunday, the pope entered the Sistine chapel about nine o’clock, when the ceremony commences; but I shall not attempt to describe the various arrangements of the great and little palm-branches, or the number of kisses bestowed on the pontiff’s hand and toe.
On Monday we had a rainy morning, but it cleared off in the afternoon. About four o’clock the king of Naples arrived on his way from Florence, and was received with salutes of cannons, bands of music, and other honours.
Tuesday was also a rainy day, and I did not attend the ceremonies of the Roman church. To-day a select party of friends dined at Francis’s hotel, and amongst the rest a young American physician, Dr. G⸺, who had been a companion of my friend Mr. C⸺ and his son, in a felucca voyage from Naples, and for the last three weekshad been laid up in the house with a fever, taken from exposure on their journey to the Malaria, or exhalations arising from the marshy grounds about the mouth of the Tiber, where they were detained two days, by the necessity of obtaining permission from Cardinal Gonsalvi to land. The vessel they had engaged, had previously been employed in the charcoal trade, and the gentlemen having ordered a quantity of clean straw to be placed in the hold as a more commodious birth, the consequence was, that the coal dust, from the motion of the vessel, worked up into the straw from the chinks between the boards, so that in the morning, when they turned out, they were astonished to find they were become as dirty and swarthy as Neapolitan sailors themselves.
There are threemisereresperformed in Passion week: the first was sung on Wednesday; the second on Thursday, and the last on Good Friday; all of which I attended. To describe as they merit, these exquisite pieces of vocal music, requires a power which I do not possess; they must be heard to be comprehended; it appears to me beyond the reach of art, to bring an assemblage of human voices to the perfection which was here attained; and to produce such modulations of heavenly harmony: had I not been assured to the contrary, I could not have believed but they musthave been assisted by the finest-toned instruments:—
“Can any mortal mixture of earth’s mouldBreathe such divine enchanting ravishment?”
“Can any mortal mixture of earth’s mouldBreathe such divine enchanting ravishment?”
“Can any mortal mixture of earth’s mouldBreathe such divine enchanting ravishment?”
“Can any mortal mixture of earth’s mould
Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment?”
Much as I had heard of the rapturous effect; it far exceeded any expectation I had formed; notwithstanding, it is unusual to find the objects of extravagant eulogy, afford a real, or proportionate, gratification.
“⸺such a sacred and home-felt delightSuch sober certainty of waking bliss,I never heard till now⸺”
“⸺such a sacred and home-felt delightSuch sober certainty of waking bliss,I never heard till now⸺”
“⸺such a sacred and home-felt delightSuch sober certainty of waking bliss,I never heard till now⸺”
“⸺such a sacred and home-felt delight
Such sober certainty of waking bliss,
I never heard till now⸺”
On Good Friday, after the last miserere, we went to St. Peter’s, where a most brilliantly illuminated cross was suspended; we did not however, continue there long, being almost satiated with these raree-shows. I then had the pleasure of spending a quiet evening with my friends Mr. and Mrs. H⸺, to whose interest I had been indebted for securing my places at each of the misereres, as well as for many other kind attentions during my stay in Rome.
Easter Sunday at length arrived, which in every respect, and particularly in point of pageantry, is the greatest festival observed by the Roman church throughout the year. The two first grand ceremonies of the procession, and the pope’s benediction, I did not attend. I was present, however, at the illumination of St. Peter’s, and theexhibition of fire-works at the castle of St. Angelo; but, alas! denied the gratification of seeing the brilliant spectacles. I cannot, however, resist the inclination to transcribe the following animated description of these enchanting scenes, as well as the preceding ceremonies, extracted from a late publication, entitled “Rome in the Nineteenth Century.”
“On this day the church puts forth all her pomp and splendour. The pope assists at high mass, and there is a procession, which, seen to the highest advantage in that noble church, is as grand as any such procession can be. A pen was erected for the ladies on the left of the high altar, for wherever the pope comes, they are always cooped up for fear of accidents. Luckily, however, it was unprovided with a grate, so they could see more to perfection. It was, in all respects, a happy liberation from the gloomy imprisonment they had been sustaining, day after day, behind the grate, in the sistine chapel. The sable robes that they wore during the last week, were now universally thrown aside, and the gayer—the more catholicly orthodox—were they.
“The church was lined with the Guarda Nobili, in their splendid uniforms of gold and scarlet, and nodding plumes of white ostrich feathers; and the Swiss guards, with their polished cuirasses andsteel helmets. The great centre aisle was kept clear by a double wall of armed men, for the grand procession, the approach of which, after much expectation, was proclaimed by the sound of a trumpet, from the farther end of the church. A long band of priests advanced, loaded with still augmenting magnificence, as they ascended to the higher orders. Cloth of gold and embroidery of gold and silver, and crimson velvet, and mantles of spotted ermine, and flowing trains, and attendant train-bearers, and mitres, and crucifixes glittering with jewels, and priests, and patriarchs, and bishops, and cardinals, dazzled our astonished eyes, and filled the long length of St. Peter’s. Lastly came the pope in his crimson chair of state, borne on the shoulders of twenty Palefrenieri, arrayed in robes of white, and wearing the tiara, or triple crown of the conjoined Trinity, with a canopy of cloth of silver, floating over his head, and preceded by two men, carrying enormous fans, composed of large plumes of ostrich feathers, mounted on long gilded wands. He stopped to pay his adorations to the miraculous Madonna, in her chapel, about half way up; and this duty, which he never omits, being performed, he was slowly borne past the high altar, liberally giving his benediction with the twirl of his fingers as he passed. They sat him down upon a magnificentstool, in front of the altar, on which he knelt, and the crown being taken off, and the cardinals taking off their little red scull-caps, and all kneeling in a row, he was supposed to pray. Having remained in this attitude a few minutes, they took him to the chair prepared for him, on the right of the throne. There he read, or seemed to read, something out of a book, for it was impossible, that without his spectacles, he could really make it out; and then he was again taken to the altar, on which his tiara was placed; and bareheaded, he repeated, or as by courtesy they call it, sang a small part of the service, threw up clouds of incense, and was removed to the crimson canopied throne, and high mass was celebrated by a cardinal and two bishops, at which he assisted, that is, he got up and sat down, in particular parts.
“During the whole service, I could not help observing, that the only part of the congregation who where in the least attentive, were the small body of English, whom curiosity, and perhaps sense of decorum, rendered so. All the Italians seemed to consider it quite as much of a pageant as ourselves, but neither a new, nor an interesting one; and they were walking about, and talking, and interchanging pinches of snuff with each other, exactly as if it had been a place of amusement,till the tinkling of a little bell, which announced the elevation of the Host, changed the scene. Every knee was now bent to the earth; every voice was hushed; the reversed arms of the military rung with an instantaneous clang on the marble pavement, as they sunk on the ground, and all was still as death. This did not last above two minutes. The Host was swallowed; and so begun and ended the only thing that bore even the smallest outward aspect of religion. They brought the pope, however, again to the footstool to pray. Two cardinals always support him, some priestly attendants bear up his train, and others busy themselves about his drapery, while two or three others put on and off his tiara and mitre; and so conduct him to and fro, between the altar and the throne, where he sits at the top of his magnificent temple, exactly like an idol dressed up to be worshipped. The long silver robes, the pale, dead, inanimate countenance, and helpless appearance of the good old man, tend still more to give him the air of a thing without any will of its own, but which is carried about, and set in motion, and managed by the priests, and taught by them to make certain movements.
“At last they put him again into the chair, set the crown upon his head, and, preceded by the great ostrich feather fans, he was borne out ofthe church. We made all possible expedition up to the loggia,—a temporary sort of gallery, erected on the top of the colonnade, opposite to that occupied by the royal families,—and secured places in the front row. An expecting crowd had long covered the broad expanded steps, and platform of the church, and spread itself over the piazza. The military now poured out of St. Peter’s and formed an immense ring, before its spacious front, behind which the horse guards were drawn up, and an immense number of carriages, filled with splendidly dressed women, and thousands of people on foot, were assembled. But the multitude almost shrunk into insignificance in the vast area of the piazza; and neither piety, curiosity, nor even that all universal gregarious passion, that makes people crowd wherever there is a crowd, had collected together sufficient numbers to fill it. The tops of the colonnades all round, were, however thronged with spectators; and it was a curious sight to see such a mixture of all ranks and nations,—from the coronetted heads of kings, to the poor cripple who crawled along the pavement,—assembled together to await the blessing of an old man, their fellow-mortal, now tottering on the brink of the grave. Not the least picturesque figures among the throng, were the Contadini, who, in every variety of curious costume,had flocked in from their distant mountain villages, to receive the blessing of the holy father, and whose bright and eager countenances, shaded by their long dark hair, were turned to the balcony where the pope was to appear. At length the two white ostrich feather fans, the forerunners of his approach, were seen, and he was borne forward on his throne above the shoulders of the cardinals and bishops, who filled the balcony. After an audible prayer, he arose, and elevating his hands to heaven, invoked a solemn benediction upon the assembled multitude, and all the people committed to his charge. Every head was uncovered, the soldiers, and many of the spectators, sunk on their knees on the pavement to receive the blessing. That blessing was given with impressive solemnity, but with little gesture and parade. Immediately the thundering of cannon from the castle of St. Angelo, and the peal of bells from St. Peter’s, proclaimed the joyful tidings to the skies. The pope was borne out, and the people rose from their knees; but at least one half of them had never knelt at all, which greatly diminished the impressive effect of the whole. I forgot to say, that, after the benediction, several papers were thrown down by one of the cardinals, which contained, I understand, the indulgence granted to the different churches, and a most pious scuffleensued among the people to catch them. The pope’s benediction this day, the Italians say, extends all over the world, but on Thursday, it only goes to the gates of Rome. On Thursday too, previous to the benediction, one of the cardinals curses all Jews, Turks, and heretics, ‘by bell, book, and candle.’ The little bell is rung, the curse is sung from the book, and the lighted taper thrown down amongst the people. The pope’s benediction immediately follows upon all true believers. At Ave Maria we took our station on the right of the farther extremity of the piazza of St. Peter’s, so as to lose the deformity of the dark dingy Vatican Palace. The gathering shades of night, rendered the illumination every moment more brilliant.
“The whole of this immense church,—its columns, capitals, cornices, and pediments,—the beautiful swell of the lofty dome, towering into heaven, the ribs converging into one point at top, surmounted by the lantern of the church, and crowned by the cross,—all were designed in lines of fire; and the vast sweep of the circling colonnades, in every rib, line, mould, cornice, and column, were resplendent in the same beautiful light.
“While we were gazing upon it, suddenly a bell chimed. On the cross, at the top, waved a brilliant light, as if wielded by some celestial hand,and instantly ten thousand globes, and stars of vivid fire, seemed to roll spontaneously along the building, as if by magic; and self-kindled, it blazed in a moment into one dazzling flood of glory. Fancy herself, in her most sportive mood, could scarcely have conceived so wonderful a spectacle, as the instantaneous illumination of this magnificent fabric. The agents by whom it was effected were unseen, and it seemed to be the work of enchantment. In the first instance, the illuminations had appeared to be complete, and one could not dream, that thousands, and tens of thousands of lamps were still to be illuminated. Their vivid blazes harmonized beautifully with the softer, milder light of the lanternoni.
“The brilliant glow of the whole illumination shed a rosy light upon the fountains, whose silver fall, and ever-playing showers, accorded well with the magic of the scene. Viewed from the Trinita de’ Monti, its effect was unspeakably beautiful. It seemed to be an enchanted palace, hung in air, and called up by the wand of some invisible spirit.
“We did not, however, drive to the Trinita de’ Monti, till after the exhibition of the girandola, or great fireworks, from the castle of St. Angelo, which commences by a tremendous explosion, that represented the raging eruption of a volcano. Red sheets of fire seemed to blaze upwards intothe glowing heavens, and then to pour down their liquid stream upon the earth. This was followed by an incessant, and complicated display of every varied device that imagination could figure,—one changing into another, and the beauty of the first, effaced by that of the last. Hundreds of immense wheels turned round with a velocity that almost seemed as if demons were whirling them, letting fall thousands of hissing dragons, and scorpions, and fiery snakes, whose long convolutions, darting forward as far as the eye could reach in every direction, at length vanished into air. Fountains, and jets of fire, threw up their blazing cascades into the skies.
“The whole vault of heaven shone with the vivid fires, and seemed to receive into itself innumerable stars and suns, which shooting up into it, in brightness almost insufferable,—vanished—like earth-born hopes. The reflection in the depth of the calm clear water of the Tiber, was scarcely less beautiful than the spectacle itself, and the whole ended in a tremendous burst of fire, which, while it lasted, almost seemed to threaten conflagration to the world.
“The expense of the illumination of St. Peter’s, and of the girandola, when repeated two successive evenings, as they invariably are at the festival of St. Peter, is one thousand crowns; when onlyexhibited one night, they cost seven hundred. Eighty men were employed in the instantaneous illuminations of the lamps, which to us seemed the work of enchantment. They were so posted as to be unseen.”
The conclusion of these ceremonies impresses one forcibly, with the same feelings as the termination of a theatrical performance, when the green curtain descends, and conceals from view the various actors of the drama, all as yet retaining their appropriate situations, and ready to recommence the exhibition, when the appointed period again comes round; while the spectators hasten away to their respective homes carrying with them vivid ideas of the pageantry with which they have been amused: thus was it with Rome, which, like a vast amphitheatre, now began to pour forth in all directions, the crowds of visitors, whom this scene of pleasure, or sentiments of devotion, had attracted.
It was not a little interesting to contrast these religious spectacles of modern, with the gigantic and martial amusements of ancient Rome; nor is it possible to receive otherwise than a melancholy impression, of the comparative littleness of the former, as well as the mistaken policy, which has perverted the pure simplicity of a religion, primitively plain and unadorned as that of Christianity,into the ground-work, and vehicle, of affected ceremonial and gorgeous pageantry, for the purpose of enslaving the human mind. Nor, after all, does any part of this imposing scene strongly affect the imagination, so as to realize the ideal expectation of its participators, except indeed the all powerful and sublime misereres; the illumination of St. Peter’s; and the fireworks of St. Angelo. These, indeed, work upon the mind with magic charms, and transport it into a fairy world, beyond the limits of mortality.
I had a great desire to ascend to the summit of St. Peter’s, notwithstanding a prohibition had lately been issued against persons going up to the cross, on account, it was said, of a young English midshipman having ascended late one evening, and attached privately to it an union Jack, which he had carried in his pocket; so that next morning the British flag was seen flying over the once mighty city of Rome. I should rather however imagine, that the prohibition arose from fear of accidents.
On leaving the church, we ascended a broad staircase formed of stone steps, so easy of ascent, that you might have rode up or down with perfect safety, which led to the upper part of the body of the church, whence its dome springs, and where you are astonished by the vast extent of the roof,with ranges of small houses and workshops upon it. Stone seats are also placed for the accommodation of visitors, from whence may be seen the cupolas of the side chapels, which are invisible from below. I determined, however, to proceed into the ball, which every one is permitted to do.
From this point we ascended the wonderful, and stupendous dome, by a succession of staircases, each terminating in a gallery, from whence a noble view of the city and surrounding country is to be seen.
The staircases gradually decreased as we ascended, until, at length, they became so contracted, as scarcely to be capable of admitting a man of more than ordinary size, and who, if he did succeed in reaching the copper ladder which leads immediately into the ball, must have then disencumbered himself of his dress, to have made good his entry into that place.
On arriving within the ball, we found it capacious enough to contain several persons, and were told that no less than from sixteen to twenty had been within it at the same time; but they must have been of the same quality with Pharaoh’s lean kine; or, as I have heard Scotchmen express it, “a heap of fellows.”
During my stay in Rome, I frequently repeated my visits to its more interesting points, as the Capitol, St. Peter’s, and the Pantheon, and traversedthe city and its neighbourhood; by which repetitions I imagine that I gained almost as correct ideas, as if I had actually seen these objects.
That beautiful and venerable building, the Pantheon, must not be passed over without a more particular notice.
“Mark, how the dread Pantheon stands,Amid the domes of modern hands,Amid the toys of idle state,How simply—how severely great.”
“Mark, how the dread Pantheon stands,Amid the domes of modern hands,Amid the toys of idle state,How simply—how severely great.”
“Mark, how the dread Pantheon stands,Amid the domes of modern hands,Amid the toys of idle state,How simply—how severely great.”
“Mark, how the dread Pantheon stands,
Amid the domes of modern hands,
Amid the toys of idle state,
How simply—how severely great.”
This temple, which from its round form, has obtained the name of the Rotunda, is a hundred and fifty feet in height, and about the same in diameter; it is divided into eight parts, one of which forms the entrance gate: each of the other seven compartments, consists of two fluted Corinthian pillars, and as many pilasters ofGiallo Antico. The capitals and bases are of white marble, and support a circular entablature. The wall is perpendicular for half the height of the temple, and then gradually slopes off as it ascends, forming a dome, the centre of which consists of an aperture twenty-five feet in diameter.
There are no windows, the above opening at the top, admitting a sufficiency of light, and producing a finer effect than windows could have done. No great inconvenience can result from this opening; the conical form of the temple prevents the rain from falling near the walls where the altars now are, and where the statues of thegods were formerly placed. The rain which falls in the middle, immediately passes through holes which perforate a large piece of porphyry, that forms the centre of the pavement; the whole of which consists of various pieces of marble, agate, and other materials, which have been picked up from the ruins, and now compose a singular kind of Mosaic work.
The portico was added by Agrippa, the son-in-law of Augustus; it is supported by sixteen pieces of granite, five feet in diameter, and each consisting of single pieces. Upon the frieze in the front, is an inscription relative to its founder.
Some are of opinion that the Pantheon is much more ancient than the Augustan age, and that the portico, which is the only part they admit to be the work of Agrippa, though beautiful in itself, does not correspond with the simplicity of the body of the temple.
But as it is not possible that I can convey any thing like a correct idea of its beauties and magnificence, I shall venture to transcribe the following account of this celebrated structure.
“Of the surviving edifices at Rome, the principal is the Pantheon itself. It still retains its majestic portico, and presents its graceful dome uninjured; the pavement laid by Agrippa and trodden by Augustus, still forms its floor; the compartments, and fluted pillars of rich marble,that originally lined its walls, still adorn its inward circumference; the deep tints that age has thrown over it, only contribute to raise our dignity and augment our veneration; and the traveller enters its portal, through which thrice twenty generations have flowed in succession, with a mixture of awe and religious veneration. Yet the Pantheon has suffered greatly during the last eighteen centuries. The flight of steps that conducted to its threshold, the marbles that clothed it, the statues that graced its cornice, the bronze that blazed on its dome, that vaulted its portico, and formed its sculptured doors, and the silver that lined the compartments of its roof within, and dazzled the spectator with its brightness, all have disappeared.”
My observations on this interesting city having extended themselves beyond my expectation, I shall decline entering into any description of the society and manners of its inhabitants, as also of the state of the arts and science of modern Rome, since these points have been so frequently and ably treated of by other authors.
Having now partaken freely of the rich intellectual feast, which this venerable city affords, I prepared, in the first instance, to return to Florence, getting my passport signed for that purpose, and arranging with an intelligent friend, the Reverend ⸺ C⸺, to have the pleasure of accompanying him to that city; but the nearer themoment of our proposed departure approached, the more intense did I find an inclination to visit Naples. This disposition was confirmed by the opinion of Dr. Clarke, that the sulphurous vapour-baths of that place would be serviceable to my health, although he strictly urged me not to continue there longer than a month, in order to escape the injurious effects of the malaria arising from the Pontine marshes, which would after that time become aggravated by the heats of summer, and to which I must have been exposed on my return, in case I should take the land route through Rome; it is true they might have been avoided, by making a sea voyage to Leghorn, as I in some measure contemplated.
Having thus been induced to alter my arrangements, I had my passports made out accordingly, and secured my place in a cabriolet, which was to set out on the following morning.
I was provided with some letters of introduction, and amongst the rest, one to Mr. C⸺, a gentleman whom I afterwards felt assured, as it proved, had been a most intimate friend of my own some years before, at which time we crossed the Atlantic together from North America to England. I was delighted with the supposed recognition, and in the sequel it will be seen, that the renewal of our friendship proved most gratifying, and advantageous to me.