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The Complete Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - Part 4
THE COMPLETE WORKS OF
Jobann Wolfgang von (Soetbe
IN TEN VOLUMES
VOLUME IV
LETTERS from SWITZERLAND
TRAVELS IN ITALY
TRANSLATED BY
REV. A. J. W. MORRISON, M.A.
NEW YORK : P. F. COLLIER & SON : PUBLISHERS
CONTENTS.
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
First Part
Second Part
PAGE
7
18
TRAVELS IN ITALY.
From Carlsbad to the Brenner
From the Brenner to Verona
From Verona to Venice
Venice ....
From Ferrara to Rome
Rome .
Naples . . • .
Sicily ....
7 1
84
99
120
152
176
227
269
Goethe — A
Vol 4
BETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
LETTEKS FKOM SWITZEELAND.
When, a few years ago, the copies of the following letters
were first made known to us, it was asserted that they had
been found among Werther's papers ; and it was pretended,
that, before his acquaintance with Charlotte, he had been in
Switzerland. We have never seen the originals . however,
we would not on any account anticipate the judgment and
feelings of our readers ; for, whatever may be their true
history, it is impossible to read them without sympathy.
PART THE FIRST.
How do all my descriptions disgust me, when I read them
over ! Nothing but your advice, your command, your injunc-
tion, could have induced me to attempt any thing of the kind.
How many descriptions, too, of these scenes, had I not read
before I saw them ! Did these, then, afford me an image of
them, or, at best, but a mere vague notion? In vain did
my imagination attempt to bring the objects before it : in
vain did my mind try to revolve from them some thoughts.
Here I now stand contemplating these wonders ; and what
are my feelings in the midst of them ! I can think of noth-
ing, I can feel nothing ; and how willingly would I both
think and feel ! The glorious scene before me excites my
soul to its inmost depths, and impels me to be doing ; and
yet what can I do — what do I? I now sit down and scrib-
ble and describe. Away with you, ye descriptions ! Delude
my friend, make him believe that I am doing something, —
that he sees and reads something.
Were, then, these Switzers free? — free, these opulent
burghers in their little pent-up towns?- — free, those poor
7
8 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
devils on their rocks and crags? What is it that man can-
not be made to believe, especially when he cherishes in his
heart the memory of some old tale of marvel? Once, for-
sooth, they did break a tyrant's yoke, and might, for the
moment, fancy themselves free ; but out of the carcass of
the single oppressor the good sun, by a strange new birth,
has hatched a swarm of petty tyrants. And so, now, they
are ever telling that old tale of marvel : one hears it till one
is sick of it. They formerly made themselves free, and
have ever since remained free ; and now they sit behind
their walls, hugging themselves with their customs and laws
— their philandering and philistering. And there, too, on
the rocks, it is surely fine to talk of liberty, when for six
months of the year, they, like the marmot, are bound hand
and foot by the snow.
Alas ! how wretched must any work of man look in the
midst of this great and glorious Nature, but especially such
sorry, poverty-stricken works as these black and dirt} 7 little
towns, such mean heaps of stones and rubbish ! Large
rubble and other stones on the roofs, too, that the miserable
thatch may not be carried off from the top of them ; and
then the filth, the dung, and the gaping idiots ! When here
you meet with man and the wretched work of his hands, you
are glad to run away immediately from both.
That there are in man very many intellectual capacities
which in this life he is unable to develop, which, therefore,
point to a better future and to a more harmonious state of
existence, — on this point we are both agreed. But, further
than this, I cannot give up that other fancy of mine, even
though, on account of it, you may again call me, as you have
so often done already, a mere enthusiast. For my part, I do
think that man feels conscious, also, of corporeal qualities
of whose mature expansion he can have no hope in this life.
This, most assuredly, is the case with flying. How strong-
ly, at one time, used the clouds, as they drove along the blue
sky, to tempt me to travel with them to foreign lands ! and
now in what danger do I stand, lest they should carry
me away with them from the mountain-peak as they sweep
violently by ! What desire I feel to throw myself into the
boundless regions of the air, to poise over the terrific
abyss, or to alight on some otherwise inaccessible rock !
With what a longing do I draw deeper and deeper breath,
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 9
when, in the dark blue depth below me, the eagle soars over
rocks and forests, or, in company and in sweet concord with
his mate, wheels in wide circles round the eyry to which he
has intrusted his young ! Must I, then, never do more than
creep up to the summits ? Must I always go on clinging to
the highest rocks, as well as to the lowest plain? and when
I have at last, with much toil, reached the desired eminence,
must I still anxiously grasp at every holding-place, shudder
at the thought of return, and tremble at the chance of a
fall?
With what wonderful properties we are born ! What
vague aspirations rise within us ! How rarely do imagina-
tion and our bodily powers work in opposition ! Peculiari-
ties of my early boyhood again recur. While I am walking,
and have a long road before me, my arms go dangling by
my side ; I at times make a grasp, as if I would seize a
javelin, and hurl it, I know not at whom or what ; and then
I fancy an arrow is shot at me which pierces me to the
heart : I strike my hand upon my breast, and feel an inex-
pressible sweetness ; and then after this I soon revert to my
natural state. Whence comes this strange phenomenon?
what is the meaning of it? and why does it invariably recur
under the same figures, in the same bodily movement, and
with the same sensation?
I am repeatedly told that the people who have met me on
my journey are little satisfied with me. I can readily
believe it, for neither has any one of them contributed to
my satisfaction. I cannot tell how it comes to pass that
society oppresses me, that the forms of politeness are dis-
agreeable to me, that what people talk about does not
interest me, that all they show to me is either quite indif-
ferent, or else produces an impression quite opposite to what
they expect. When I am shown a drawing or painting of
any beautiful spot, immediately a feeling of disquiet arises
within me which is utterly inexpressible. My toes within
my shoes begin to bend, as if they would clutch the ground :
a cramp-like motion runs through my fingers,. I bite my
lips, and hasten to leave the company I am in, and throw
myself down, in the presence of the majesty of nature, on
the first seat, however inconvenient. I try to take in the
scene before me with my eye, to seize all its beauties ; and
on the spot I love to cover a whole sheet with scratches
10 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
which represent nothing exactly, but which, nevertheless,
possess an infinite value in my eyes, as serving to remind
me of the happy moment whose bliss even this bungling
exercise could not mar. What means, then, this strange
effort to pass from art to nature, and then back again from
nature to art? If it gives promise of an artist, why is
steadiness wanting to me? If it calls me to enjoyment,
wherefore, then, am I not able to seize it? I lately had a
present of a basket of fruit. I was in raptures at the sight
of it, as of something heavenly, — such riches, such abun-
dance, such variety, and yet such affinity ! I could not
persuade myself to pluck off a single berry : I could not
bring myself to take a single peach or a fig. Most assur-
edly this gratification of the eye and the inner sense is the
highest, and most worthy of man : in all probability it is the
design of Nature, when the hungry and thirsty believe that
she has exhausted herself in marvels merely for the grati-
fication of their palate. Ferdinand came and found me
in the midst of these meditations. He did me justice, and
then said, smiling, but with a deep sigh, "Yes, we are not
worthy to consume these glorious products of Nature : truly
it were a pity. Permit me to make a present of them to my
beloved ? ' ' How glad was I to see the basket carried off !
How did I love Ferdinand ! How did I thank him for the
feeling he had excited in me, for the prospect he gave me !
Ay, we ought to acquaint ourselves with the beautiful : we
ought to contemplate it with rapture, and attempt to raise
ourselves up to its height. And, in order to gain strength
for that, we must keep ourselves thoroughly unselfish : we
must not make it our own, but rather seek to communicate
it, indeed, to make a sacrifice of it to those who are dear
and precious to us.
How sedulously we are shaped and moulded in our youth !
how constantly we then are called on to lay aside now
this, now that, bad feeling ! But what, in fact, are our so-
called bad feelings, but so many organs by means of which
man is to aid himself in life ? How people worry a poor child
in whom but a little spark of vanity is discovered ! and yet
what a poor miserable creature is a man who has no vanity
at all ! I will now tell you what has led me to make all these
reflections. The day before yesterday we were joined by a
young fellow who was most disagreeable to me and Ferdinand.
His weak points were so prominent, his emptiness so mani-
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 11
fest, and the care he bestowed on his outward appearance so
obvious, that we looked down upon him as far inferior to
ourselves ; and yet he was everywhere received better than
we. Among other of his follies, he wore a waistcoat of
red satin, which round the neck was so cut as to look like
the ribbon of some order or other. We could not refrain
from joking about this piece of absurdity. But he let them all
pass ; for he drew a good profit from it, and perhaps secretly
laughed at us. For host and hostess, coachman, waiter, and
chambermaid, and, indeed, not a few of our fellow-travel-
lers, were taken in by this seeming ornament, and showed
greater politeness to him to than us. Not only was he always
first waited upon, but, to our great humiliation, we saw that
all the pretty girls in the inns bestowed all their stolen
glances upon him. And then, when it came to the reckoning,
which his eminence and distinction had enhanced, we had to
pay our full shares. Who, then, was the fool in the game?
Assuredly not he.
There is something pretty and instructive about the
symbols and maxims which one here sees on all the stoves.
Here you have the drawing of one of these symbols which
particularly caught my fancy. A horse, tethered by his hind-
foot to a stake, is grazing round it as far as his tether will
permit: beneath is written, u Allow me to take my allotted
portion of food." This, too, will be the case with me when
I come home, and, like the horse in the mill, shall have to
work away at your pleasure, and in return, like the horse
here on the stove, shall receive a nicely measured dole for
my support. Yes, I am coming back ; and what awaits me
was certainly well worth all the trouble of climbing up these
mountain heights, of wandering through these valleys, and
seeing this blue sky, of discovering that there is a nature
which exists by an eternal, voiceless necessity, which has no
wants, no feelings, and is divine ; whilst we, whether in the
country or in the towns, have alike to toil hard to gain a
miserable subsistence, and at the same time struggle to subject
every thing to our lawless caprice, and call it liberty.
Ay, I have ascended the Furca, — -the summit of St. Go-
thard. These sublime, incomparable scenes of nature will
ever stand before my eye. Ay, I have read the Roman
history in order to gain from the comparison a distinct and
vivid feeling what a thoroughly miserable being I am.
12 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
Never has it been so clear to me as during these last few
days, that I, too, could be happy on moderate means ; could
be quite as happy as any one else, if only I knew a trade, —
an exciting one, indeed, but yet one which had no conse-
quences for the morrow, which required nothing but industry
and attention at the time, without calling for either foresight
or retrospection. Every mechanic seems to me the happiest
of mortals : all he has to do is already settled for him, what
he can do is fixed and known. He has not to rack his brains
over the task that is set him. He works away without think-
ing, without exertion or haste, but still with diligence and
pleasure in his work, like a bird building its nest, or a bee
constructing its cells. He is but a degree above the beasts,
and yet he is a perfect man. How do I envy the potter at
his wheel, or the joiner behind his bench !
Tilling the soil is not to my liking : this first and most
necessary of man's occupations is disagreeable to me. In it
man does but ape Nature, who scatters her seeds eve^where ;
whereas man would choose that a particular field should pro-
duce none but one particular fruit. But things do not go on
exactly so : the weeds spring up luxuriantly ; the cold and
wet injures the crop, or the hail cuts it off entirely. The
poor husbandman anxiously waits throughout the year to see
how the cards will decide the game with the clouds, and
determine whether he shall win or lose his stakes. Such a
doubtful, ambiguous condition may be right suitable to man in
his present ignorance, while he knows not whence he came,
nor whither he is going. It may, then, be tolerable to man to
resign all his labors to chance ; and thus the parson, at any
rate, has an opportunity, when things look thoroughly bad, to
remind him of Providence, and to connect the sins of his
flock with the incidents of Nature.
So, then, I have nothing to joke Ferdinand about ! I, too,
have met with a pleasant adventure. Adventure ! — why do I
use the silly word ? There is nothing of adventure in a gentle
attraction which draws man to man. Our social life, our false
relations — those are adventures, those are monstrosities ; and
yet they come before us as well known, and as nearly akin to
us, as uncle and aunt.
We had been introduced to Herr Tiidou ; and we found our-
selves very happy among this family, — rich, open-hearted,
good-natured, lively people, who in the society of their
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 13
children, in comfort and without care, enjoy tiie good which
each day brings with it, their property, and their glorious
neighborhood. We young folks were not required, as is too
often the case in so many formal households, to sacrifice our-
selves at the card-table in order to humor the old. On the
contrary, the old people — father, mother, and aunts — gath-
ered round us, when, for our own amusement, we got up some
little games in which chance and thought and wit had their
counteracting influence. Eleonora, for I must now at last
mention her name, — the second daughter (her image will for-
ever be present to my mind) , — a slim slight frame, deli-
ately chiselled features, a bright eye, a palish complexion,
which in young girls of her age is rather pleasing than dis-
agreeable, as being a sign of no very incurable a malady : on
the whole, her appearance was extremely agreeable. She
seemed cheerful and lively, and every one felt at his ease with
her. Soon, indeed I may venture to say at once, — at once,
on the very first evening, she made me her companion : she sat
by my side ; and, if the game separated us a moment, she soon
contrived to find her old place again. I was gay and cheerful.
My journey, the beautiful weather, the country — all had con-
tributed to produce in mean immoderate cheerfulness, — ay, I
might almost venture to say a state of excitement. I derived
it from every thing, and imparted it to every thing : even Fer-
dinand seemed to forget his fair one. We had almost ex-
hausted ourselves in varying our amusements, when we at last
thought of the u game of matrimony." The names of the
ladies and of the gentlemen were thrown separately into two
hats, and then the pairs were drawn out one by one. On each
couple as determined by the lot, one of the company whose
turn it might happen to be had to write a little poem. Every
one of the party — father, mother, and aunts — were obliged to
put their names in the hats. We cast in, besides, the names of
our acquaintances, and, to enlarge the number of candidates
for matrimony, we threw in those of all the well-known char-
acters of the literary and of the political world. We com-
menced playing, and the first pairs that were drawn were
highly distinguished personages. It was not every one, how-
ever, who was ready at once with his verses. She, Ferdinand
and myself, and one of the aunts, who wrote very pretty
verses in French — we soon divided among ourselves the office
of secretary. The conceits were mostly good, and the verses
tolerable. Hers, especially, had a touch of nature about them
which distinguished them from all others. Without being
14 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
really clever, they had a happy turn : they were playful without
being bitter, and showed good will towards every one. The
father laughed heartily ; and his face was lit up with joy when
his daughter's verses were declared to be the best, after
mine. Our unqualified approbation highly delighted him.
We praised, as men praise unexpected merit, — as we praise
an author who has bribed us. At last out came my lot, and
chance had taken honorable care of me. It was no less a
personage than the Empress of all the Russias, who was
drawn to be my partner for life. The company laughed
heartily at the match ; and Eleonora maintained that the
whole company must try their best to do honor to so eminent
a consort. All began to try : a few pens were bitten to
pieces. She was ready first, but wished to read last. The
mother and the aunt could make nothing of the subject ; and
although the father was rather matter-of-fact, Ferdinand
somewhat humorous, and the aunts rather reserved, still,
through all, you could see friendship and good will. At
last it came to her turn. She drew a deep breath, her
ease and cheerfulness left her : she did not read, but rather
lisped it out, and laid it before me to read it to the rest. I
was astonished, amazed. Thus does the bud of love open in
beauty and modesty. I felt as if a whole spring had showered
upon me all its flowers at once. Every one was silent. Fer-
dinand lost not his presence of mind. "Beautiful!" he
exclaimed, " very beautiful ! He deserves the poem as little
as an empire." — "If only we have rightly understood it,"
said the father. The rest requested I would read it once
more. My eyes had hitherto been fixed on the precious
words : a shudder ran through me from head to foot. Ferdi-
nand, who saw my perplexity, took the paper up, and read
it. She scarcely allowed him to finish before she drew out the
lots for another pair. The game was not kept up long after
this, and refreshments were brought in.
Shall I, or shall I not? Is it right of me to hide in silence
any thing from him to whom I tell so much, nay, all? Shall
I keep back from you a great matter, when I yet weary you
with so many trifles which assuredly no one would ever read
but you who have taken so wonderful a liking for me ? or
shall I keep back any thing from you, because it might, per-
haps, give you a false, not to say an ill, opinion of me? No :
do you know me better than I even know myself. If I should
do any thing which you do not believe possible I could do, you
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 15
will amend it : if I should do any thing deserving of censure,
you will not spare me ; you will lead me and guide me
whenever my peculiarities entice me off the right road.
My joy, my rapture, at works -of art when they are true,
when they are immediate and speaking expressions of Nature,
afford the greatest delight to every collector, to every dilet-
tante. Those, indeed, who call themselves connoisseurs, are
not always of my opinion ; but I care nothing for their con-
noisseurship when I am happy. Does not living nature vividly
impress itself on my sense of vision? Do not its images
remain fixed in my brain ? Do not they there grow in beauty,
delighting to compare themselves, in turn, with the images
of art which the mind of others has also embellished and
beautified? I confess to you that my fondness for Nature
arises from the fact of my always seeing her so beautiful,
so lovely, so brilliant, so ravishing, that the similation of the
artist, even his imperfect imitation, transports me almost as
much as if it were a perfect type. It is, however, only such
works of art as bespeak genius and feeling, that have any
charms for me. Those cold imitations which confine them-
selves to the narrow circle of a certain meagre mannerism,
of mere painstaking diligence, are to me utterly intolerable.
You see, therefore, that my delight and taste cannot well be
riveted by a work of art, unless it imitates such objects of
nature as are well known to me ; so that I am able to test the
imitation by my own experience of the originals. Land-
scape, with all that lives and moves therein ; flowers and
fruit-trees ; Gothic churches ; a portrait taken directly from
Nature, — all this I can recognize, feel, and, if you like, judge
of. Honest W amused himself with this trait of my
character, and, in such a way that I could not be offended,
often made merry with it at my expense. He sees much
farther in this matter than I, and I shall always prefer that
people should laugh at me while they instruct than that they
should praise without benefiting me. He had noticed what
things I was most immediately pleased with, and, after a
short acquaintance, did not hesitate to avow, that, in the
objects that so transported me, there might be much that was
truly estimable, and which time alone would enable me to
distinguish.
But I turn from this subject, and must now, however cir-
cuitously, come to the matter, which, though reluctantly, I
cannot but confide to you. I can see you in your room, in
your little garden, where, over a pipe of tobacco, you will
16 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
probably break the seal, and read this letter. Can your
thoughts follow me into this free and motley world? Will
the circumstances and true state of the case become clear to
your imagination? And will you be as indulgent towards
your absent friend as I have often found you when present?
When my artistic friend became better acquainted with
me, and judged me worthy of being gradually introduced to
better pieces of art, he one day, not without a most mysteri-
ous look, took me to a case, which, being opened, displayed
a life-size Danae receiving in her lap the golden shower. I
was amazed at the splendor of the limb», the magnificence
of the posture and arrangement, the intense tenderness and
the intellectuality of the sensual object ; and yet I did but
stand before it in silent contemplation. It did not excite
in me that rapture, that delight, that inexpressible pleasure.
My friend, who went on descanting upon the merits of the
picture, was too full of his own enthusiasm to notice my
coldness, and delighted to have an opportunity of pointing
out to me in this painting the distinctive excellences of the
Italian school.
But the sight of this picture has not made me happy : it
has made me uneasy. What ! said I to myself, — in what a
strange case do we civilized men find ourselves, with our
many conventional restraints ! A mossy rock, a waterfall,
rivets my eye so long that I can tell every thing about it, —
its heights, its cavities, its lights and shades, its hues, its
blending tints and reflections : all is distinctly present to
my mind, and, whenever I please, comes vividly before me
in a most happy imitation. But of that masterpiece of
Nature, the human frame, of the order and symmetry of
the limbs, — of all this I have but a very general notion,
which, in fact, is no notion at all. My imagination presents
to me any thing but a vivid image of this glorious structure ;
and, when art presents an imitation of it to my eye, it
awakens in me no sensation, and I am unable to judge of the
merits of the picture. No, I will remain no longer in this
state of stupidity. I will stamp on my mind the shape of
man, as well as that of a cluster of grapes, or of a peach-
tree.
I induced Ferdinand to bathe in the lake. What a glorious
shape my friend has ! How duly proportioned all his limbs
are ! what fulness of form ! what splendor of youth ! What
a gain to have enriched my imagination with this perfect
model of manhood ! Now I can people the woods, the
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. IT
meadow, and the hills, with similar fine forms. I can see
him as Adonis chasing the boar, or as Narcissus contemplat-
ing himself in the mirror of the spring.
But alas ! my imagination cannot furnish as yet a Venus
holding him from the chase, a Venus bewailing his death, or
a beautiful Echo casting one sad look more on the cold corpse
of the 3 r outh before she vanishes forever. I have therefore
resolved, cost what it will, to see a female form in the state
in which I have seen my friend.
When, therefore, we reached Geneva, I made arrangements,
in the character of an artist, to complete my studies of the
nude figure, and to-morrow evening my wish is to be
gratified.
I cannot avoid going to-day with Ferdinand to a grand
party. It will form an excellent foil to the studies of this
evening. Well enough do I know those formal parties, where
the old women require you to play at cards with them, and the
young ones to ogle with them ; where you must listen to
the learned, pay respect to the parson, and give way to the
noble ; where the numerous lights show you scarcely one tol-
erable form, and that one hidden and buried beneath some
barbarous load of frippery. I shall have to speak French,
too, — a foreign tongue, — the use of which always makes a
man appear silly, whatever he may think of himself, since the
best he can express in it is nothing but commonplace and
the most obvious of remarks, and that, too, only with stam-
mering and hesitating lips. For what is it that distinguishes
the blockhead from the really clever man, but the peculiar
quickness and vividness with which the latter discerns the
nicer shades and proprieties of all that comes before him,
and expresses himself thereon with facility? whereas the
former (just as we all do with a foreign language) is forced
on every occasion to have recourse to some ready-found and
conversational phrase or other. To-day I will calmly put up
with the sorry entertainment, in expectation of the rare scene
of Nature which awaits me.
My adventure is over. It has fully equalled my expecta-
tion, nay, surpassed it ; and yet I know not whether to
congratulate or to blame myself on account of it.
18 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND
PART THE SECOND.
Munsteb, Oct. 3, 1797.
From Basle you will receive a packet containing an account*
of my travels up to that point ; for we are now continuing in
good earnest our tours through Switzerland. On our route
to Biel we rode up the beautiful valley of the Birsch y and at
last reached the pass which leads to this place.
Among the ridges of the broad and lofty range of moun-
tains, the little stream of the Birsch found, of old, a channel
for itself. Necessity soon after may have driven men to
clamber wearily and painfully through its gorges. The
Romans, in their time, enlarged the track ; and now you may
travel through it with perfect ease. The stream, dashing
over crags and rocks, and the road, run side by side ; and,,
except at a few points, these make up the whole breadth of
the pass, which is hemmed in by rocks, the top of which is
easily reached by the eye. Behind them the mountain chain
rose with a slight inclination : the summits, however, were
veiled by a mist.
Here walls of rock rise precipitously one above another,
there immense strata run obliquely down to the river and the
road ; here, again, broad masses lie piled one over another,
while close beside stands a line of sharp-pointed crags. Wide
clefts run yawning upwards ; and blocks, of the size of a wall,
have detached themselves from the rest of the stony mass.
Some fragments of the rock have rolled to the bottom :
others are still suspended, and by their position alarm you y
as also likely at any moment to come toppling down.
Now round, now pointed, now overgrown, now bare, are
the tops of these rocks, among and high above which some
single bald summit boldly towers ; while along the perpen-
dicular cliffs, and among the hollows below, the weather has
worn many a deep and winding cranny.
The passage through this defile raised in me a grand but
calm emotion. The sublime produces a beautiful calmness
in the soul, which, entirely possessed by it, feels as great as it
ever can feel. How glorious is such a pure feeling when it
rises to the very highest, without overflowing ! My eye and
my soul were both able to take in the objects before me ;
and as I was pre-occupied by nothing, and had no false tastes
to counteract their impression, they had on me their full and
natural effect. When we compare such a feeling with that
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 19
we are sensible of when we laboriously harass ourselves with
some trifle, and strain every nerve to gain as much as possible
for it, and, as it were, to patch it out, striving to furnish
joy and aliment to the mind from its own creation, we then
feel sensibly what a poor expedient, after all, the latter is.
A young man whom we have had for our companion from
Basle said his feelings were very far from what they were
on his first visit, and gave all the honor to novelty. I,
however, would say, when we see such objects as these for
the first time, the unaccustomed soul has to expand itself ;
and this gives rise to a sort of painful joy, — an overflowing
of emotion, which agitates the mind, and draws from us the
most delicious tears. By this operation, the soul, without
knowing it, becomes greater in itself, and is, of course, not
capable of ever feeling again such a sensation ; and man
thinks, in consequence, that he has lost something, whereas
in fact he has gained. What he loses in delight, he gains in
inward riches. If onty destiny had bidden me to dwell in
the midst of some grand scenery, then would I every morn-
ing have imbibed greatness from its grandeur ; as, from a
lonely valley, I would extract patience and repose.
After reaching the end of the gorge, I alighted, and went
back alone through a part of the valley. I thus called forth
another profound feeling, — one by which the attentive mind
may expand its joys to a high degree. One guesses in the
dark about the origin and existence of these singular forms.
It may have happened when and how it may : these masses
must, according to the laws of gravity and affinity, have
been formed grandly and simply by aggregation. Whatever
revolutions may subsequently have upheaved, rent, and
divided them, the latter were only partial convulsions ; and
even the idea of such mighty commotions gives one a deep
feeling of the eternal stability of the masses. Time, too,
bound by the everlasting law, has had here greater, here
less, effect upon them.
Internally their color appears to be yellowish. The air,
however, and the weather, have changed the surface into a
bluish-gray ; so that the original color is only visible here and
there in streaks and in the fresh cracks. The stone itself
slowly crumbles beneath the influence of the weather, be-
coming rounded at the edges as the softer flakes wear away.
In this manner have been formed hollows and cavities grace-
fully shelving off, which, when they have sharp slanting and
pointed edges, present a singular appearance.
20 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
Vegetation maintains its rights on every ledge, on every
flat surface ; for in every fissure the pines strike root, and
the mosses and plants spread themselves over the rocks.
One feels deeply convinced that there is nothing accidental ;
that here there is working an eternal law, which, however
slowly, yet surely governs the universe ; that there is nothing
here from the hand of man but the convenient road by means
of which this singular region is traversed.
Geneva, Oct. 21, 1779.
The great mountain range, which, running from Basle to
Geneva, divides Switzerland from France, is, as you are
aware, named the Jura. Its principal heights run by Lau-
sanne, and reach as far as Rolle and Nyon. In the midst of
this summit ridge, Nature has cut out — I might almost say
washed out — a remarkable valley ; for on the tops of all
these limestone rocks the operation of the primal waters is
manifest. It is called La Vallee de Joux, which means the
Valley of the Rock, since Joux, in the local dialect, signifies
a rock. Before I proceed with the further description of our
journey, I will give you a brief geographical account of its
situation. Lengthwise it stretches, like the mountain range
itself, almost directly from south to north, and is locked in
on the one side by Sept Moncels, and on the other by Dent
de Vaulion, which, after the Dole, is the highest peak of the
Jura. Its length, according to the statement of the neigh-
borhood, is nine short leagues, but, according to our rough
reckoning as we rode through it, six good leagues. The
mountainous ridge which bounds it lengthwise on the north,
and is also visible from the flat lauds, is called the Black
Mountain (Le Noir Mont). Towards the west, the Risou
rises gradually, and slopes away towards Franche Comtc.
FYance and Berne divide the valley pretty evenly between
them ; the former claiming the upper and inferior half, and
the latter possessing the lower and better portion, which is
properly called La Valine du Lac de Joux. Quite at the
upper part of the valley, and at the foot of Sept Moncels,
lies the Lac des Rousses, which has no single visible origin,
but gathers its waters from the numerous springs which here
gush out of the soil, and from the little brooks which run
into the lake from all sides. Out of it flows the Orbe, which,
after running through the whole of the French and a great
portion of the Bernese territory, forms, lower down and
towards the Dent de Vaulion, the Lac de Joux, which falls
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 21
on one side into a smaller lake, the waters of which have
some subterraneous outlet. The breadth of the valley
varies : above, near the Lac des Rousses, it is nearly half a
league, then it closes in to expand again presently, and to
reach its greatest breadth, which is nearly a league and
a half. So much to enable you better to understand what
follows. While you read it, however, I would beg you now
and then to cast a glance upon your map, although, so far as
concerns this country, I have found them all to be incorrect.
Oct. 24. — In company with a captain and an upper ranger
of the forests in these parts, we rode, first of all, up Mont,
a little scattered village which much more correctly might be
called a line of husbandmen's and vine-dressers' cottages.
The weather was extremely clear. When we turned to look
behind us, we had a view of the Lake of Geneva, the moun-
tains of Savoy and Valais, and could just catch Lausanne,
and also, through a light mist, the country round Geneva.
Mont Blanc, which towers above all the mountains of
Faucigni, stood out more and more distinctly. It was a
brilliant sunset ; and the view was so grand, that no human
eye was equal to it. The moon rose almost at the full as
we got continually higher. Through large pine-forests we
continued to ascend the Jura, and saw the lake in a mist,
and in it the reflection of the moon. It became lighter and
lighter. The road is a well-made causeway, though it was
laid down merely for the sake of facilitating the transport of
the timber to the plains below. We had been ascending for
full three leagues, before the road began gently to descend.
We thought we saw below us a vast lake, for a thick mist
filled the whole valley which we overlooked. Presently we
came nearer to the mist, and observed a white bow, which
the moon formed in it, and were soon entirely enveloped in the
fog. The company of the captain procured us lodgings in a
house where strangers were not usually entertained. In its
internal arrangement, it differed in nothing from usual build-
ings of the same kind, except that the great room in the
centre was at once the kitchen, the anteroom, and general
gathering-place of the family ; and from it you entered at
once into the sleeping-rooms, which were either on the same
floor with it, or had to be approached by steps. On the one
side was the fire, which was burning on the ground on some
stone slabs ; while a chimney, built durably and neatly of
planks, received and carried off the smoke. In the corner
were the doors of the oven. All the rest of the floor was of
22 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
wood, with the exception of a small piece near the window,
around the sink, which was paved. Moreover, all around
and overhead, on the beams, a multitude of domestic articles
and utensils were arranged in beautiful order, and all kept
nice and clean.
Oct. 25. — This morning the weather was cold but clear,
the meadows covered with hoar-frost, and here and there
light clouds were floating in the air. We could pretty nearly
survey the whole of the lower valley, our house being situ-
ated at the foot of the eastern side of I\ T oir Mont. About
eight we set off, and, in order to enjoy the sun fully, pro-
ceeded on the western side. The part of the valley we now
traversed was divided into meadows, which towards the
lake were rather swampy. The inhabitants either dwell in
detached houses built by the side of their farms, or else have
gathered closer together in little villages, which bear simple
names derived from their several sites. The first of those
that we passed through was called " Le Sentier. ,, We saw
at a distance the Dent de Vaulion peeping out over a mist
which rested on the lake. The valley grew broader ; but our
road now lay behind a ridge of rock which shut out our view
of the lake, and then through another village, called " Le
Lieu." The mist arose and fell off, highly variegated by the
sun. Close hereto is a small lake, which apparently has
neither inlet nor outlet to its waters. The weather cleared
up completely as we came to the foot of Dent de Vaulion,
and reached the northern extremity of the great lake, which,
as it turns westward, empties itself into a smaller by a dam
beneath the bridge. The village just above is called " Le
Pont." The situation of the smaller lake is what you may
easily conceive as being in a peculiar little valley, which may
be called pretty. At the western extremity there is a sin-
gular mill built in a ravine of the rock, which the smaller
lake used formerly to fill. At present it is dammed out of
the mill, which is erected in the hollow 7 below. The water is
conveyed by sluices to the wheel, from which it falls into
crannies of the rock, and, being sucked in by them, does not
show itself again till it reaches Valorbe, which is a full
league off, where it again bears the name of the " Orbe."
These outlets (entonnoirs) require to be kept clear : otherwise
the water would rise, and again fill the ravine, and overflow'
the mill, as it has often done already. We saw the people
hard at work removing the worn pieces of the limestone, and
replacing them by others.
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 23
We rode back again over the bridge, towards Le Pont,
and took a, guide for the Dent dn Vaulion. In ascending it
we now had the great lake directly behind ns. To the
east its boundary is the Noir Mont, behind which the bald
peak of the Dole rises up : to the west it is shut in by the
mountain ridge, which, on the side of the lake, is perfectly
bare. The sun felt hot : it was between eleven and twelve
o'clock. By degrees we gained a sight of the whole valley,
and were able to discern in the distance the Lac des
Rousses, and then, stretching to our feet, the district we
had just ridden through, and the road which remained for
our return. During the ascent my guide discoursed of the
whole range of the country and the lordships, which, he
said, it was possible to distinguish from the peak. In the
midst of such talk we reached the summit. But a very
different spectacle was prepared for us. Under a bright
and clear sky nothing was visible but the high mountain
chain. All the lower regions were covered with a white sea
of cloudy mist, which stretched from Geneva northwards,
along the horizon, and glittered brilliantly in the sunshine.
Out of it rose, to the east, the whole line of snow and ice
capped mountains, acknowledging no distinction of names
of either the princes or peoples who fancied they were own-
ers of them, and owning subjection onjy to one Lord, and to
the glance of the sun, which was tinging them with a beau-
tiful red. Mont Blanc, right opposite to us, seemed the
highest ; next to it were the ice-crowned summits of Valais
and Oberland ; and lastly came the lower mountains of the
canton of Berne. Towards the west, the sea of mist, which
was unconfined to one spot ; on the left, in the remotest
distance, appeared the mountains of Solothurn ; somewhat
nearer, those of Neufchatel ; and right before us, some of
the lower heights of the Jura. Just below, lay some of the
masses of the Vaulion, to which belongs the Dent (tooth) ,
which takes from it its name. To the west, Franche-Comte,
with its flat, outstretched, and wood-covered hills, shut in
the whole horizon. In the distance, towards the north-west,
one single mass stood out distinct from all the rest. Straight
'before us, however, was a beautiful object. This was the
peak which gives this summit the name of a tooth. It de-
scends precipitously, or rather with a slight curve, inwards ;
and in the bottom it is succeeded by a small valley of pine-
trees, with beautiful grassy patches here and there, while
right beyond it lies the valley of the Orbe(Val-orbe), where
24 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
you sec this stream coming out of the rock, and can trace,
in thought, its route backwards to the smaller lake. The
little town of Valorbe also lies in this valley. Most reluc-
tantly we quitted the spot. A delay of a few hours longer
(for the mist generally disperses in about that time) would
have enabled us to distinguish the low lands with the lake ;
but, in order that our enjoyment should be perfect, we
must always have something behind still to be wished. As
we descended, we had the whole valley lying perfectly dis-
tinct before us. At Le Pont we again mounted our horses,
and rode to the east side of the lake, and passed through
L'Abbaye de Joux, which at present is a village, but once
was a settlement of monks, to whom the whole valley be-
longed. Towards four we reached our auberge, and found
our meal ready, of which we were assured by our hostess
that at twelve o'clock it would have been good eating, and
which, overdone as it was, tasted excellently.
Let me now add a few particulars just as they were told
me. As I mentioned just now, the valley belonged for-
merly to the monks, who, having divided it again to feuda-
tories, were, with the rest, ejected at the Reformation. At
present it belongs to the canton of Berne ; and the moun-
tains around are the timber-stores of the Pays de Vaud.
Most of the timber is private property, and is cut up under
supervision, and then carried down into the plains. The
planks are also made here into deal utensils of all kinds, and
pails, tubs, and similar articles manufactured.
The people are civil and well disposed. Besides their
trade in wood, they also breed cattle. Their beasts are of a
small size. The cheese they make is excellent. They are
very industrious, and a clod of earth is with them a great
treasure. We saw one man, with a horse and cart, carefully
collecting the earth which had been thrown up out of a
ditch, and carrying it to some hollow places in the same
held. They lay the stones carefully together, and make
little heaps of them. There are here many stone-polishers,
who work for the Genevese and other tradesmen ; and this
business furnishes occupation for many women and children.
The houses are neat, but durable ; the form and internal
arrangements being determined by the locality, and the wants
of the inmates. Before every house there is a running
stream, and everywhere you see signs of industry, activity,
and wealth. But above all tilings is the highest praise due
to the excellent roads, which in this remote region, as also in
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 25
all the other cantons, are kept up by that of Berne. A
causeway is carried all round the valley, not unnecessarily
broad, but in excellent repair ; so that the inhabitants can
pursue their avocations without inconvenience, and, with
their small horses and light carts, pass easily along. The
air is very pure and salubrious.
On the 26th of October, during breakfast, we deliberated
as to the road we should take on our return. As we heard
that the Dole, the highest summit of the Jura, lay at no
great distance from the upper end of the valley, and as the
weather promised to be most glorious, so that we might
to-day hope to enjoy all that chance denied us yesterday,
we finally determined to take this route. We loaded a guide
with bread and cheese, and butter and wine, and by eight
o'clock mounted our horses. Our route now lay along the
upper part of the valley, in the shade of Noir Mont. It was
extremely cold, and there had been a sharp hoar-frost. We
had still a league to ride, through the part belonging to Berne,
before the causeway (which there terminates) branches
off into two parts. Through a little wood of pine-trees
we entered the French territory. Here the scene changed
greatly. What first excited our attention was the wretched
roads. The soil is rather stony : everywhere you see great
heaps of those which have been picked off the fields. Soon
you come to a part which is very marshy, and full of springs.
The woods all around you are in wretched condition. In
all the houses and people you recognize, I will not say want,
but certainly a hard and meagre subsistence. They belong,
almost as serfs, to the canons of St. Claude : they are bound
to the soil (glebce astricti) , and are oppressed with imposts
(sujets a la main-morte et au droit de la suite), of which
we will hereafter have some talk together, as also of a late
edict of the king's, repealing the droit de la suite, and invit-
ing the owners and occupiers to redeem the main-morte for
a certain compensation. But still even this portion of the
valley is well cultivated. The people love their country
dearly ; though they lead a hard life, being driven occa-
sionally to steal the wood from the Bernese, and sell it
again in the lowlands. The first division is called the Bois
d'Amant. After passing through it, we entered the parish
of Les Rousses, where we saw before us the little Lake des
Rousses and Les Sept Moncels, — seven small hills of differ-
ent shapes, but all connected together, which form the south-
ern limit of the valley. We soon came upon the new road
26 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
which runs from the Pays de Vaud to Paris. We kept to
this for a mile downwards, and now left entirely the valle} 7 .
The bare summit of the Dole was before us. We alighted
from our horses, and sent them on by the road towards
St. Cergue, while we ascended the Dole. It was near noon.
The sun felt hot, but a cool south wind came now and then to
refresh us. When we looked round for a halting-place, we
had behind us Les Sept Moncels, we could still see a part of
the Lac des Rousses, and around it the scattered houses of the
parish. The rest of the valley was hidden from our eye by
the Noir Mont, above which we again saw our yesterday's
view of Franche-Comt6, and nearer at hand, southwards, the
last summits and valleys of the Jura. We carefully avoided
taking advantage of a little peep in the hill, which would
have given us a glimpse of the country, for the sake of
which, in reality, our ascent was undertaken. I was in some
anxiety about the mist : however, from the aspect of the
sky above, I drew a favorable omen. At last we stood on
the highest summit, and saw with the greatest delight that
to-day we were indulged with all that yesterday had been
denied us. The whole of the Pays de Vaux and de Gex lay
like a plan before us ; all the different holdings divided off
with green hedges, like the beds of a parterre. We were so
high, that the rising and sinking of the landscape before us
were unnoticeable. Villages, little towns, country-houses,
vine-covered hills, and higher up still, where the forests
and Alps begin, the cow-sheds (mostly painted white, or
some other light color) , — all glittered in the sunshine. The
mist had already rolled off from Lake Leman. We saw the
nearest part of the coast on our side, quite clear : of the so-
called smaller lake, where the larger lake contracts itself,
and turns towards Geneva, which was right opposite to us,
we had a complete view ; and on the other side, the country
which shuts it in was gradually clearing. But nothing could
vie with the view of the mountains, covered with snow and
glaciers. We sat down before some rocks, to shelter us from
the cold wind, with the sunshine full upon us, and highly
relished our little meal. We kept watching the mist, which
gradually retired. Each one discovered, or fancied he dis-
covered, some object or other. One by one we distinctly
saw Lausanne, surrounded with its houses and gardens,
then Bevay and the Castle of Chillon ; the mountains, which
shut out from our view the entrance into Valais, and ex-
tended as far as the lake ; from thence the borders of Savoy,
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 27
Evian, RepaiHe, and Tonon, with a sprinkling of villages
and farmhouses between them. At last Geneva stood clear
from the mist ; but beyond, and towards the south, in the
neighborhood of Monte Credo and Monte Vauche, it still
hung immovable. When the eye turned to the left, it caught
sight of the whole of the lowlands from Lausanne, as far as
Solothurn, covered with a light halo. The nearer mountains
and heights, and every spot that had a white house on it,
could be closely distinguished. The guides pointed out a
glimmering, which they said was the castle of Chauvan, which
lies to the left of the Neuberger-See. We were just able to
guess whereabouts it lay, but could not distinguish it through
the bluish haze. There are no words to express the gran-
deur and beauty of this view. At the moment every one
is scarcely conscious of what he sees : one does but recall
the names and sites of well-known cities and localities, to
rejoice in a vague conjecture that he recognizes them in
certain white spots which strike his eye in the prospect
before him.
And then the line of glittering glaciers was continually
drawing the eye back again to the mountains. The sun
made his way towards the west, and lighted up their great
flat surfaces, which were turned towards us. How beauti-
fully before them rose from above the snow the variegated
rows of black rocks ! — teeth, towers, walls ; wild, vast,
inaccessible vestibules ! — and seeming to stand there in the
free air in the first purity and freshness of their manifold
variety. Man gives up at once all pretensions to the in-
finite, while he here feels that neither with thought nor vision
is he equal to the finite.
Before us we saw a fruitful and populous plain. The
spot on which we were standing was a high, bare mountain
rock, which, however, produces a sort of grass as food for
the cattle, which are here a great source of gain. This the
conceited lord of creation may yet make his own ; but
those rocks before his eyes are like a train of holy virgins,
which the spirit of heaven reserves for itself alone in these in-
accessible regions. We tarried a while, tempting each other,
in turn, to try and discover cities, mountains, and regions,
now with the naked eye, now with the telescope, and did
not begin to descend till the setting sun gave permission
to the mist — his own parting breath — to spread itself over
the lake.
With sunset we reached the ruins of the fort of St. Cergue.
28 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
Even when we got down in the valley, our eyes were still
riveted on the mountain glaciers. The farthest of these,
lying on our left in Oberland, seemed almost to be melting
into a light fiery vapor : those still nearer stood with their
sides towards us, still glowing and red ; but by degrees they
became white, green, and grayish. There was something
melancholy in the sight. Like a powerful body over which
death is gradually passing from the extremities to the heart,
so the whole range gradually paled away as far as Mont
Blanc, whose ampler bosom was still covered all over with a
deep red blush, and even appeared to us to retain a reddish
tint to the very last, — just as, when one is watching the
death of a dear friend, life still seems to linger, and it is
difficult to determine the very moment when the pulse ceases
to beat.
This time, also, we were very loath to depart. We found
our horses in St. Cergue ; and, that nothing might be wanting
to our enjoyment, the moon rose, and lighted us to Nyon.
While on the way, our strained and excited feelings were
gradually calmed, and assumed their wonted tone ; so that
we were able, with keen gratification, to enjoy from our inn
window the glorious moonlight which was spread over the
lake.
At different spots of our travels, so much was said of the
remarkable character of the glaciers of Savoy, and when we
reached Geneva we were told it was becoming more and
more the fashion to visit them, that the count 1 was seized
with a strange desire to bend our course in that direction,
and from Geneva to cross Cluse and Salenche, and enter the
Valley of Chamouni, and, after contemplating its wonderful
objects, to go on by Valorsine and Trent into Valais. This
route, however, which was the one usually pursued by trav-
ellers, was thought dangerous in this season of the year. A
visit was therefore paid to M. de Saussure at his country-
house, and his advice requested. He assured us that we
need not hesitate to take that route : there was no snow as
yet on the middle-sized mountains ; and if on our road we
were attentive to the signs of the weather and the advice of
the country-people, who were seldom wrong in their judg-
ment, we might enter upon this journey with perfect safety.
Here is the copy of the journal of a day's hard travelling.
1 The Duke Charles Augustus of Weimar, who travelled under the title of Count
of
0HT9± 00 68782
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 29
Cluse in Savoy, Nov. 3, 1770.
To-day, on departing from Geneva, our party divided.
The count, with me and a huntsman, took the route to Savoy.
Friend W., with the horses, proceeded through the Pays de
Vaud for Valais. In a light four-wheeled cabriolet we pro-
ceeded first of all to visit Hiiber at his country-seat, — a man
out of whom mind, imagination, and imitative tact oozes at
every pore, one of the very few thorough men we have
met with. He saw us well on our way ; and then we set oft'
with the lofty snow-capped mountains, which we wished to
reach, before our eyes. From the Lake of Geneva, the
mountain-chains verge towards each other, to the point where
Bonneville lies, halfway between the Mole, a considerable
mountain, and the Arve. There we took our dinner. Be-
hind the town the valley closes right in. Although not very
broad, it has the Arve flowing gently through it, and is on the
southern side well cultivated ; and everywhere the soil is put
to some profit. From the early morning, we had been in
fear of its raining, some time at least before night ; but the
clouds gradually quitted the mountains, and dispersed into
fleeces, — a sign which has more than once in our experience
proved a favorable omen. The air was as warm as it usu-
ally is in the beginning of September, and the country we
travelled through beautiful ; many of the trees being still
green. Most of them had assumed a brownish-yellow tint,
but only a few were quite bare. The crops were rich and
verdant. The mountains caught from the red sunset a
rosy hue, blended with violet ; and all these rich tints were
combined with grand, beautiful, and agreeable forms of the
landscape. We talked over much that was good. Towards
five we came towards Cluse, where the valley closes, and
has only one outlet, through which the Arve issues from the
mountains, and by which, also, we propose to enter them to-
morrow. We ascended a lofty eminence, and saw beneath
us the city, partly built on the slightly inclined side of a
rock, but partly on the flat portion of the valley. Our eyes
ranged with pleasure over the valley ; and, sitting on the
granite rocks, we awaited the coming of night in calm and
varied discourse. Towards seven, as we descended, it was
not at all colder than it is usually in summer about nine.
At a miserable inn (where, however, the people were ready
and willing, and by their patois afforded us much amuse-
ment) we are now going, about ten o'clock, to bed, intend-
ing to set out early to-morrow, before the morning shall dawn.
30 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
Salenche, Nov. 4, 1779.
Noon.
Whilst a dinner is being prepared by very willing hands,
I will attempt to set down the most remarkable incidents of
our yesterday's journey, which commenced with the early
morning. With break of day we set out on foot from Cluse,
taking the road towards Balme. In the valley the air was
agreeably fresh. The moon, in her last quarter, rose bright
before the sun, and charmed us with the sight, as being one
which we do not often see. Single light vapors rose upwards
from all the chasms in the rocks. It seemed as if the morn-
ing air were awakening the young spirits, who took pleasure
in meeting the sun with expanded bosoms, and gilding them
in his rays. The upper heaven was perfectly clear, except
where now and then a single cloudy streak, which the rising
sun lit up, swept lightly across it. Balme is a miserable
village, not far from the spot where a rocky gorge runs off
from the road. We asked the people to guide us through
the cave for which the place is famous. At this they kept
looking at one another, till at last one said to the second,
" Take you the ladder, I will carry the rope : come, gentle-
men." This strange invitation did not deter us from follow-
ing them. Our line of descent passed, first of all, among
fallen masses of limestone rock, which by the course of
time had been piled up, step by step, in front of the pre-
cipitous wall of rock, and were now overgrown with bushes
of hazel and beech. Over these you reach, at last, the
strata of the rock itself, which you have to climb up slowly
and painfully, by means of the ladder and of the steps
cut into the rock, and by help of branches of the nut-
trees which hung over head, or of pieces of rope tied to
them. After this you find yourself, to your great satisfac-
tion, in a kind of portal, which has been worn out of the
rock by the weather, and overlooks the valley and the village
below. We now prepared for entering the cave, — lighted
our candles, and loaded a pistol, which we proposed to let
off. The cave is a long gallery, mostly level, and on one
strand ; in parts broad enough for two men to walk abreast,
in others only passable by one ; now high enough to walk
upright, then obliging you to stoop, and sometimes even to
crawl on hands and feet. Nearly about the middle, a cleft
runs upwards, and forms a sort of a dome. In one corner,
another goes downwards. We threw several stones down it,
and counted slowly from seventeen to nineteen before they
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 31
reached the bottom, after touching the sides many times, but
always with a different echo. On the walls a stalactite forms
its various devices : however, it is only damp in a very few
places, and forms, for the most part, long drops, and not
those rich and rare shapes which are so remarkable in Bau-
mann's Cave. We penetrated as far as we could for the
water, and, as we came out, let off our pistol, which shook
the cave with a strong but dull echo, so that it boomed round
us like a bell. It took us a good quarter of an hour to get
out again ; and, on descending the rocks, we found our car-
riage, and drove onwards. We saw a beautiful waterfall in
the manner of the Staubbach. Neither its height was very
great, nor its volume very large, and yet it was extremely
interesting, for the rocks formed around it, as it were, a cir-
cular niche, in which its waters fell ; and the pieces of the
limestone, as they were tumbled one over another, formed
the most rare and unusual groups.
We arrived here at mid-day, not quite hungry enough to
relish our dinner, which consisted of warmed fish, cow-beef,
and very stale bread. From this place there is no road lead-
ing to the mountains that is passable for so stately an equi-
page as we have with us : it therefore returns to Geneva,
and I now must take my leave of you in order to pursue my
route a little farther. A mule with my luggage will follow
us as we pick our way on foot.
Chamouni, Nov. 4, 1779.
Evening, about nine o'clock.
It is only because this letter will bring me for a while nearer
to yourself, that I resume my pen : otherwise it would be
better for me to give my mind a little rest.
We left Salenche behind us in a lovely open valley. During
our noonday's rest the sky had become overcast with white
fleecy clouds, about which I have here a special remark to
make. We had seen them on a bright day rise equally fine,
if not still finer, from the glaciers of Berne. Here, too, it
again seemed to us as if the sun had first of all attracted the
light mists which evaporated from the tops of the glaciers,
and then a gentle breeze had, as it were, combed the fine
vapors, like a fleece of foam, over the atmosphere. I never
remember at home, even in the height of summer (when such
phenomena do also occur with us) , to have seen any so trans-
parent ; for here it was a perfect web of light. Before long
the ice-covered mountains from which it rose lay before us.
32 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
The valley began to close in. The Arve was gushing out of
the rock. We now began to ascend a mountain, and went up
higher and higher, with the snowy summits right before us.
Mountains and old pine-forests, either in the hollows below T
or on a level with, our track, came out one by one before the
eye as we proceeded. On our left were the mountain peaks,
bare and pointed. We felt that we were approaching a
mightier and more massive chain of mountains. We passed
over a dry and broad bed of stones and gravel, which the
water-courses tear down from the sides of the rocks, and in
turn flow among, and fill up. This brought us into an agreea-
ble valley, flat, and shut in by a circular ridge of rocks, in
which lies the little village of Serves. There the road runs
round some very highly variegated rocks, and takes again the
direction towards the Arve. After crossing the latter, you
again ascend. The masses become constantly more imposing.
Nature seems to have begun here with a light hand to pre-
pare her enormous creations. The darkness grew deeper
and deeper as we approached the Valley of Chamouni ; aud
when, at last, we entered it, nothing but the larger masses
were discernible. The stars came out one by one ; and we
noticed above the peaks of the summits, right before us, a
light which we could not account for. Clear, but without
brilliancy ; like the milky way, but closer ; something like
that of the Pleiades, — it riveted our attention, until at last,
as our position changed, like a pyramid illuminated by a
secret light within, which could best be compared to the
gleam of a glow-worm, it towered high above the peaks of
all the surrounding mountains, and at last convinced us that
it must be the peak of Mont Blanc. The beauty of this view
was extraordinary. For while, together with the stars that
clustered round it, it glimmered, — not, indeed, with the
same twinkling light, but in a broader and more continuous
mass, — it seemed to belong to a higher sphere, and one had
difficulty in thought to fix its roots again in the earth. Before
it we saw a line of snowy summits, sparkling as they rested
on the ridges covered with the black pines ; while between the
dark forests vast glaciers sloped down to the valley below.
My descriptions begin to be irregular and forced : in fact,
one wants two persons here, — one to see, and the other to
describe.
Here we are, in the middle village of the valley called " Le
PrieureY' comfortably lodged in a house which a widow
caused to be built here in honor of the many strangers who
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 33
visited the neighborhood. We are sitting close to the hearth,
relishing our Muscatel wine from the Vallee d'Aost far bet-
ter than the lenten dishes which were served up for our
dinner.
Nov. 5, 1779. Evening.
To take up one's pen and write, almost requires as great
an effort as to go into a cold river. At this moment I have a
great mind to put you off by referring you to the description
of the glaciers of Savoy, published by Bourritt, an enthusi-
astic climber.
Invigorated, however, by a few glasses of excellent wine,
and by the thought that these pages will reach you much
sooner than either the travellers or Bourritt' s book, I will do
my best. The Valley of Chamouni, in which we are at pres-
ent, lies very high among the mountains, and, from six to
seven leagues long, runs prett} T nearly from south to north.
The characteristic features which to my mind distinguish it
from all others, are its having scarcely any flat portion ; but
the whole tract, like a trough, slopes from the Arve gradu-
ally up the sides of the mountain. Mont Blanc and the line
of mountains which runs off from it, and the masses of ice
which fill ,up the immense ravines, make up the eastern wall
of the valley, on which, throughout its entire length, seven
glaciers, of which one is considerably larger than the others,
run down to the bottom of the valley.
The guides whom we had engaged to show us to the ice-
lake came betimes. One was an active young fellow ; the
other, much older, who seemed to think himself a very shrewd
personage, having held intercourse with all learned foreigners,
and being well acquainted with the nature of the ice-moun-
tains, and a very clever fellow. He assured us, that, for
eight and twenty years (so long had he acted as guide), this
was the first time his services had been put in requisition
so late in the year, — after All-Saints' Day, — and yet that
we might even now see every object quite as well as in June.
Provided with wine and food, we began to ascend Mont
Anvert, from which we were told the view of the ice-lake
would be quite ravishing. Properly 1 should call it the ice-
valley or the ice-stream ; for, looking at it from above, the
huge masses of ice force themselves out of a deep valley in
tolerable smoothness. Right behind it ends a sharp-pointed
mountain, from both sides of which waves of ice run frozen
into the principal stream. Not the slightest trace of snow
34 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
was as yet to be seen on the rugged surfaces, and the blue
crevices glistened beautifully. The weather, by degrees, be-
came overcast ; and I saw gray wavy clouds, which seemed to
threaten snow more than it had ever yet done. On the spot
where we were standing is a small cabin, built of stones
loosely piled together, as a shelter for travellers, which in
joke has been named " The Castle of Mont Anvert." An
Englishman of the name of Blaire, who is residing at Geneva,
has caused a more spacious one to be built at a more conven-
ient spot, and a little higher up, where, sitting by a fireside,
you catch through the window a view of the whole ice- valley.
The peaks of the rocks over against you, as also in the val-
ley below, are very pointed and rugged. These jags are called
needles ; and the Aiguille du Dru is a remarkable peak of this
kind, right opposite to Mont Anvert. We now wished to
walk upon the ice-lake itself, and to consider these immense
masses close at hand. Accordingly, we climbed down the
mountain, and took nearly a hundred steps round about on
the wave-like crystal cliffs. It is certianly a singular sight,
when, standing on the ice itself, you see before you the masses
pressing upwards, and divided by strangely shaped clefts.
However, we did not like standing on this slippery surface ;
for we were not provided with ice-shoes, nor had we nails in
those which we ordinarily wore, and which, on the contrary,
had become smooth and rounded with our long walk. We
therefore made our way back to the hut, and, after a short
rest, were ready for returning. We descended the mountain,
and came to the spot where the ice-stream, step by step,
forces its way to the valley below ; and we entered the cavern,
into which it empties its water. It is broad, deep, and of the
most beautiful blue ; and in the cave the supply of water is
more invariable than farther on at the mouth, since great
pieces of ice are constantly melting and dissolving in it.
On our road to the Auberge, we passed the house where
there were two Albinos, — children between twelve and four-
teen, with very white complexions, rough white hair, and
with red and restless eyes, like those of rabbits. The deep
night which hangs over the valley invites me to retire early
to bed ; and I am hardly awake enough to tell you that we
have seen a tame young ibex, who stands out as distinctly
among the goats, as the natural son of a noble prince from
the burgher's family among whom he is privately brought up
and educated. It does not suit with our discourses, that I
should speak of any thing out of its due order. Besides, you
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 35
do not take much delight in specimens of granite, quartz, or
in larch and pine trees, yet, most of all, you would desire to
see some remarkable fruits of our botanizing. I think I am
stupid with sleep : I cannot write another line.
Chamouni, Nov. 6, 1776.
Early.
Content with seeing all that the early season allows us to
see, we are ready to start again, intending to penetrate as far
as Valais to-day. A thick mist covers the whole valley, and'
reaches halfway up the mountains ; and we must wait and
see what sun and wind will yet do for us. Our guide pur-
poses that we should take the road over the Col de Balme (a
lofty eminence which lies on the north side of the valley,
towards Valais) , from the summit of which, if we are lucky,
we shall be able to take another survey of the Valley of
Chamouni, and of all its remarkable objects.
Whilst I am writing, a remarkable phenomenon is passing
along the sky. The mists, which are shifting about and break-
ing in some places, allow you, through their openings, as
through skylights, to catch a glance of the blue sky, while at
the same time the mountain peaks, rising above our roof of
vapor, are illuminated by the sun's rays. Even without the
hope it gives of a beautiful day, this sight of itself is a rich
treat to the eye.
We have at last obtained a standard for judging the heights
of the mountains. It is at a considerable height above the
valley that the vapor rests on the mountains. At a still
greater height are clouds, which have floated off upwards
from the top of the mist ; and then far above these clouds
you see the summits glittering in the sunshine.
It is time to go. I must bid farewell to this beautiful val-
ley and to you.
Martinac m Valais, Nov. 6, 1779.
Evening.
We have made the passage across without any mishap, and
so this adventure is over. The joy of our good luck will
keep my pen going merrily for a good half -hour yet.
Having packed our luggage on a mule, we set out early
(about nine) from Prieur?. The clouds shifted, so that the
peaks were now visible, and then were lost again : at one
moment the sun's rays came in streaks on the valley, at
the next the whole of it was again in shade. We went up the
Goethe— B Vol 4
36 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
valley, passing the outlet of the ice-stream, then the glacier
d'Argentiere, which is the highest of the five : the top of it,
however, was hidden from our view by the clouds. On the
plain we held a council whether we should or not take the
route over Col de Balme, and abandon the road over Valor-
sine. The prospect was not the most promising : however,
as here there was nothing to lose, and much, perhaps, to gain,
we took our way boldly towards the dark region of mists and
clouds. As we approached the Glacier du Tour, the clouds
parted, and we saw this glacier also in full light. We sat
down a while, and drank a flask of wine, and took something
to eat. We now mounted towards the sources of the Arve,
passing over rugged meadows, and patches scantily covered
with turf, and came nearer and nearer to the region of mists,
until at last we entered right into it. We went on patiently
for a while, till at last, as we got up higher, it began again to
clear above our heads. It lasted for a short time : so we
passed right out of the clouds, and saw the whole mass of
them beneath us, spread over the valley, and were able to see
the summits of all the mountains on the right and left that
enclosed it, with the exception of Mont Blanc, which was
covered with clouds. We were able to point them out one
by one, and to name them. In some we saw the glaciers
reaching from, their summits to their feet : in others we could
only discern their tracks, as the ice was concealed from our
view by the rocky sides of the gorges. Beyond the whole of
the flat surface of the clouds, except at its southern extrem-
ity, we could distinctly see the mountains glittering in the
sunshine. Why should I enumerate to you the names of
summits, peaks, needles, icy and snowy masses, when their
mere designations can furnish no idea to your mind, either
of the whole scene or of its single objects ?
It was quite singular how the spirits of the air seemed to
be waging war beneath us. Scarcely had we stood a few
minutes enjoying the grand view, when a hostile ferment
seemed to arise within the mist ; and it suddenly rose upwards,
and threatened once more to envelop us. We commenced
stoutly ascending the height, in the hope of yet a while escap-
ing from it ; but it outstripped us, and enclosed us on all
sides. However, perfectly fresh, we continued to mount ;
and soon there came to our aid a strong wind, blowing from
the mountain. Blowing over the saddle which connected two
peaks, it drove the mist back again ir'o the valley. This
strange conflict was frequently repeated ; and at last, to our
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 37
joy, we reached the Col de Balme. The view from it was
singular, indeed unique. The sky above the peaks was over-
cast with clouds : below, through the many openings in the
mist, we saw the whole of Chamouni, and between these two
layers of cloud the mountain summits were all visible. On
the east we were shut in by rugged mountains : on the west
we looked down on wild valleys, where, however, on every
green patch, human dwellings were visible. Before us lay the
Valley of Valais, where, at one glance, the eye took in moun-
tains piled in every variety of mass, one upon another, and
stretching as far as Martinac, and even beyond it. Surround-
ed on all sides by mountains, which, farther on towards the
horizon, seemed continually to multiply, and to tower higher
and higher, we stood on the confines of Valais and Savoy.
Some contrabandists, who were ascending the mountains
with their mules, were alarmed at seeing us ; for at this sea-
son they did not reckon on meeting with any one at this spot.
They fired a shot to intimate that they were armed, and one
advanced before the rest to reconnoitre. Having recognized
our guide, and seen what a harmless figure we made, he re-
turned to his party, who now approached us, and we passed
one another with mutual greetings.
The wind now blew sharp ; and it began to snow a little as
we commenced our descent, which was rough and wild
enough, through an ancient forest of pines, which had taken
root on the faces of the gneiss. Torn up by the winds, the
trunks and roots lay rotting together ; and the rocks, which
were loosened at the same time, were lying in rough masses
among them.
At last we reached the valley where the River Trent takes
its rise from a glacier, and passing the village of Trent, close
upon our right, we followed the windings of the valley along
a rather inconvenient road, and about six reached Martinac,
which lies in the flatter portion of the Valais. Here we must
refresh ourselves for further expeditions.
Martinac, Nov. 6, 1779.
Evening.
Just as our travels proceed uninterruptedly, so my let-
ters, one after another, keep up my conversation with you.
Scarcely have I folded and put aside the conclusion of
" Wanderings through Savoy," ere I take up another sheet
of paper in order to acquaint you with all that we have
further in contemplation.
38 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
It was night when we entered a country about which our
curiosity had long been excited. As yet we have seen nothing
but the peaks of the mountains, which enclose the valley on
both sides, and then only in the glimmering of twilight. We
crept into our inn, and from the window we see the clouds
shift. We feel as glad and comfortable to have a roof over
our heads, as children do, when with stools, table-leaves,
and carpets they construct a roof near the stove, and therein
say to one another that outside " it is raining or snowing,"
in order to excite a pleasant and imaginary shudder in their
little souls. It is exactly so with us on this autumnal even-
ing in this strange and unknown region.
We learn from the maps that we are sitting in the angle
of an elbow, from which the smaller part of Valais — running
almost directly from south to north, and with the Rhone — ■
extends to the Lake of Geneva, while the other and the larger
portion stretches from west to east, and goes up the Rhone
to its source, the Furca. The prospect of riding through
the Valais is very agreeable : our only anxiety is how we are
to cross over into it. First of all, with the view of seeing
the lower portion, it is settled that we go to-morrow to St.
Maurice, where we are to meet our friend, who, with the
horses, has gone round by the Pays de Vaud. To-morrow
evening we think of being here again, and then on the next
day shall begin to go up the country. If the advice of M.
de Saussure prevails, we shall perform the route to the Furca
on horseback, and then back to Brieg over the Simplon,
where, in any weather, the travelling is good over Domo
d'Osula, Lago Maggiore, Bellinzona, and then up Mount
Gothard. The road is said to be excellent, and everywhere
passable for horses. We should best prefer going over the
Furca to St. Gothard, both for the sake of the shorter route,
and also because this detour through the Italian provinces
was not within our original plan. But then what could we do
with our horses ? They could not be made to descend the
Furca ; for, in all probability, the path for pedestrians is
already blocked up by the snow.
With regard to the latter contingency, however, we are
quite at our ease, and hope to be able, as we have hitherto
done, to take counsel, from moment to moment, with cir-
cumstances as they arise.
The most remarkable object in this inn is a servant-girl,
who, with the greatest stupidity, gives herself all the airs of
one of our would-be delicate German ladies We had a
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 39
good laugh, when after bathing our weary feet in a bath of
red wine and clay, as recommended by our guide, we had in
the affected hoiden to wipe them dry.
Our meal has not refreshed us much, and after supper we
hope to enjoy our beds more.
St. Maurice, Nov. 7, 1779.
Nearly noon.
On the road it is my way to enjoy the beautiful views in
order that I may call in one by one my absent friends, and
converse with them on the subject of the glorious objects.
If I come into an inn, it is in order to rest myself, to go back
in memory and to write something to you, when many a time
my overstrained faculties would much rather collapse upon
themselves, and recover their tone in a sort of half -sleep.
This morning we set off at dawn from Martinac. A fresh
breeze was stirring with the day, and we soon passed the old
castle which stands at the point where the two arms of Valais
make a sort of Y. The valley is narrow, shut in on its two
sides by mountains highly diversified in their forms, and
which, without exception, are of a peculiar and sublimely
beautiful character. We came to the spot where the Trent
breaks into the valley around some narrow and perpendicular
rocks ;, so that one almost doubts whether the river does not
flow out of the solid rock itself. Close by stands the old
bridge, which only last year was greatly injured by the
stream ; while not far from it lie immense masses of rock,
which have fallen very recently from the mountains, and
blocked up the road. The whole group together would make
an extremely beautiful picture. At a short distance, a new
wooden bridge has been built and a new road laid down.
We knew that we were getting near the famous waterfall
of Pisse Vache, and wished heartily for a peep at the sun ;
the shifting clouds giving us some hope that our wish would
be gratified. On the road we examined various pieces of
granite and of gneiss, which, with all their differences, seem,
nevertheless, to have a common origin. At last we stood
before the waterfall, which well deserves its fame above all
others. At a considerable height a strong stream bursts from
a cleft in the rock, falling downward into a basin, over which
the foam and spray is carried far and wide by the wind. The
sun at this moment came forth from the clouds, and made
the sight doubly vivid. Below in the spray, wherever you go,
you have close before you a rainbow. If you go higher up,
40 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
you still witness no less singular a phenomenon. The airy
foaming waves of the upper stream of water, as, with their
frothy vapor, they come in contact with the angle of vision
at which the rainbow is formed, assume a flame-like hue,
without giving rise to the pendent form of the bow ; so that
at this point you have before you a constantly varying play
of fire.
We climbed all round, and, sitting down near it, wished we
were able to spend whole days, and many a good hour of our
life, on this spot. Here, too, as in so many other places
during our present tour, we felt how impossible it was to
enjoy and to be fully impressed with grand objects on a
passing visit.
We came to a village where there were some merry sol-
diers, and we drank there some new wine. Some of the
same sort had been set before us yesterday. It looked like
soap and water : however, I had rather drink it than their
sour " this year's " and " two years' old " wine. When one
is thirsty, nothing comes amiss.
We saw St. Maurice at a distance : it is situated just at
the point where the valley closes in, so much as to cease to
be any thing more than a mere pass. Over the city, on the
left, we saw a small church, with a hermitage close to it ; and
we hope to have an opportunity yet of visiting them both*
We found in the inn a note from our friend, who has
stopped at Bee, which is about three-quarters of a league
from this place : we have sent a messenger to him. The
count is gone out for a walk, to see the country before us.
I shall take a morsel to eat, and then set out towards the
famous bridge and the pass.
After one o'clock.
I have at last got back from the spot where one could be
contented to spend whole days together, lounging and loiter-
ing about, without once getting tired, holding converse with
one's self.
If I had to advise any one as to the best route into Valais,
I should recommend the one from the Lake of Geneva up
the Rhone. I have been on the road to Bee over the great
bridge, from which you step at once into the Bernese terri-
tory. Here the Rhone flows downwards, and the valley near
the lake becomes a little broader. As I turned round again,
I saw that the rocks near St. Maurice pressed together from
both aides, and that a small light bridge, with a high arch>
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 41
w.ik thrown boldly across from them over the Rhone, which
rushes beneath it with its roaring and foaming stream. The
numerous angles and turrets of a fortress stand close to the
bridge, and a single gateway commands the entrance into
Valais. I went over the bridge back towards St. Maurice,
and even beyond it, in search of a view which I had for-
merly seen a drawing of at Huber's house, and by good luck
found it.
The count is come back. He had gone to meet the horses,
and, mounting his gray, had outstripped the rest. He says the
bridge is so light and beautiful, that it looks like a Horse in
the act of leaping a ditch. Our friend, too, is coming, and
is quite contented with his tour. He accomplished the dis-
tance from the Lake of Geneva to Bee in a few days, and
we are all delighted to see one another again.
Martinac, at about nine.
We were out riding till late at night ; and the road seemed
much longer returning than going, as, in the morning, our
attention had been constantly attracted from one object to
another. Besides, I am, for this day at least, heartily tired
of descriptions and reflections : however, I must try hastily
to perpetuate the memory of f?wo beautiful objects. It was
deep twilight, when, on our return, we reached the waterfall
of the Pisse Vache. The mountains, the valley, and the
heavens themselves, were dark and dusky. By its grayish
tint and unceasing murmur you could distinguish the falling
stream from all other objects, though you could scarcely dis-
cern the slightest motion. Suddenly the summit of a very
high peak glowed just like molten brass in a furnace, and
above it rose red smoke. This singular phenomenon was the
effect of the setting sun illuminating the snow and the mists
which ascended from it.
Sion, Nov. 8, 1779.
About three o'clock.
This morning we missed our way riding, and were delayed,
in consequence, three hours at least. We set out from
Martinac before dawn, in order to reach Sion in good time.
The weather was extraordinarily beautiful, only that the sun,
being low in the heavens, was shut out by the mountains ; so
that the road, as we passed along, was entirely in the shade.
The view, however, of the marvellously beautiful valley of
Valais called up many a good and cheerful idea. We had
42 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
ridden for full three hours along the high road, with the
Rhone on our left, when we saw Sion before us ; and we
were beginning to congratulate ourselves on the prospect of
soon ordering our noon-day's meal, when we found that the
bridge we ought to cross had been carried away. Nothing
remained for us, we were told by the people who were busy
repairing it, but either to leave our horses, and go by a foot-
path which ran across the rocks, or else to ride on for about
three miles, and then cross the Rhone by some other bridges.
We chose the latter ; and we would not suffer any ill humor
to get possession of us, but determined to ascribe this mis-
chance to the interposition of our good genius, who intended
to take us a slow ride through this interesting region with
the advantage of good daylight. Everywhere, indeed, in
this narrow district, the Rhone makes sad havoc. In order
to reach the other bridges, we were obliged, for more than a
league and a half, to ride over sandy patches, which, in the
various inundations, are constantly shifting, and are useful
for nothing but alder and willow beds. At last we came to
the bridges, which were wretched, tottering, long, and com-
posed of rotten timbers. We had to lead our horses over,
one by one, and with extreme caution. We were now on
the left side of the Valais, and had to turn backwards to get
to Sion. The road itself was, for the most part, wretched
and stony : every step, however, opened a fresh view, which
was well worth a painting. One, however, was particularly
remarkable. The road brought us up to a castle, below
which there was spread out the most lovely scene that we
had seen in the whole road. The mountains nearest to us
run down on both sides slantingly to the level ground, and
by their shape give a kind of perspective effect to the
natural landscape. Beneath us was the Valais, in its entire
breadth from mountain to mountain, so that the eye could
easily take it in. The Rhone, with its ever- varying windings
and bushy banks, was flowing past villages, meadows, and
richly cultivated highlands. In the distance you saw the
Castle of Sion, and the various hills which begin to rise
behind it. The farthest horizon was shut in, amphitheatre
like, with a semicircular range of snow-capped mountains,
which, like all the rest of the scene, stood glittering in the
sun's meridian splendor. Disagreeable and rough was the
road we had to ride over : we therefore enjoyed the more,
perhaps, the still tolerably green festoons of the vines which
overarched it. The inhabitants, to whom every spot of
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 43
earth is precious, plant their grape-vines close against the
walls which divide their little holdings from the road, where
they grow to an extraordinary thickness, and, by means of
stakes and trellises, are trained across the road so as almost
to form one continuous arbor. The lower grounds were
principally meadows. In the neighborhood of Sion, however,
we noticed some tillage. Towards this town, the scenery is
extremely diversified by a variety of hills, and we wished to
be able to make a longer stay in order to enjoy it. But the
hideousness of the town and of the people fearfully disturb
the pleasant impression which the scenery leaves. The most
frightful goitres put me altogether out of humor. We can-
not well put our horses any farther to-day, and therefore we
think of going on foot to Seyters. Here in Sion the inn is
disgusting, and the whole town has a dirty and revolting
appearance.
Setters, Nov. 8, 1779.
Night.
As evening had begun to fall before we set out from
Sion, we reached here at night, with the sky above us clear
and starry. We have consequently lost many a good view :
that I know well. Particularly we should have liked to
ascend to the Castle of Tourbillon, which is at no great
distance from Sion : the view from it must be uncommonly
beautiful. A guide whom we took with us skilfully guided
us through some wretched low lands, where the water was
out. We soon reached the heights, and had the Rhone below
us on our right. By talking over some astronomical matters,
we shortened our road, and have taken up our abode here
with some very worthy people, who are doing their best to
entertain us. When we think over what we have gone
through, so busy a day, with its many incidents and sights,
seems almost equal to a whole week. I begin to be quite
sorry that I have neither time nor talent to sketch at least
the outlines of the most remarkable objects ; for that would
be much better for the absent than all descriptions.
Setters, Nov. 9, 1779.
Before we set out, I can just bid you good-morning. The
count is going with me to the mountains on the left, towards
Leukerbad. Our friend will, in the mean time, stay here with
the horses, and join us to-morrow at Leuk.
44 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
Leukkrkad, Nov. 9, 1779.
At the foot of Mount Gernmi.
In a little wooden house, where we have been most kindly
received by some very worthy people, we are sitting in a
small, low room, and trying how much of to-day's highly
interesting tour can be communicated in words. Starting
from Seyters very early, we proceeded for three leagues up the
mountains, after having passed large districts laid waste by
the mountain torrents. One of these streams will suddenly
rise, and desolate an extent of many miles, covering with
fragments of rock and gravel the fields, meadows, and gar-
dens, which (at least wherever possible) the people labori-
ously set to work to clear, in order, within two generations,
perhaps ; to be again laid waste. We have had a gray day,
with every now and then a glimpse of sunshine. It is im-
possible to describe how infinitely variegated the Valais here
again becomes : the landscape bends and changes every
moment. Looking around you, all the objects seem to lie
close together ; and yet they are separated b}' great ravines
and hills. Generally we had had the open part of the valley
below us, on the right, when suddenly we came upon a spot
which commanded a most beautiful view over the mountains.
In order to render more clear what it is I am attempting to
describe, I must say a few words on the geographical posi-
tion of the district in which we are at present. We had now,
for three hours, been ascending the mountainous region which
separates Valais from Berne. This is, in fact, the great
track of mountains which runs in one continuous chain from
the Lake of Geneva to Mount St. Gothard, and on which, as
it passes through Berne, rest the great masses of ice and
snow. Here ''above" and "below" are but the relative
terms of the moment. I say, for instance, beneath me lies a
village ; and, in all probabilitj^, the level on which it is built
is on a precipitous summit, which is far higher above the
valle}^ below than I am above it.
As we turned an angle of the road, and rested a while at a
hermitage, we saw beneath us, at the end of a lovely green
meadow-land which stretched along the brink of an enor-
mous chasm, the village of Inden, with its white church
exactly in the middle of the landscape, and built altogether
on the slope of the hillside. Beyond the chasm another line
of meadow lands and pine forests went upwards, while right
behind the village a vast cleft in the rocks ran up the sum-
mit. On the left hand the mountains came light down to
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 45
us, while those on our right stretched far away into the
distance ; so that the little hamlet, with its white church,
formed, as it were, the focus towards which the many rocks,
ravines, and mountains all converged. The road to Inden is
cut out of the precipitous side of the rock, which, on your
left going to the village, lines the amphitheatre. It is not
dangerous, although it looks frightful enough. It goes down
on the slope of a rugged mass of rocks, separated from the
yawning abyss on the right by nothing but a few poor
planks. A peasant with a mule, who was descending at the
same time as ourselves, whenever he came to any dangerous
points, caught his beast by the tail, lest the steep descent
should cause him to slip, and roll into the rocks below. At
last we reached Inden. As our guide was well known there,
he easily managed to obtain for us, from a good-natured
dame, some bread and a glass of red wine ; for in these parts
there are no regular inns.
We now ascended the high ravine behind Inden, where we
soon saw before us the Gemmiberg (of which we had heard
such frightful descriptions) , with Leukerbad at its foot, lying
between two lofty, inaccessible, snow-covered mountains, as
if it were in the hollow of a hand. It was three o'clock,
nearly, when we arrived there ; and our guide soon procured
us lodgings. There is properly no inn, even here ; but, in
consequence of the many visitors to the baths at this place,
all people have good accommodations. Our hostess had been
put to bed the day before ; but her husband, with an old
mother and a servant-girl, did very creditably the honors of
the house. We ordered something to eat, and went to see
the warm springs, which in several places burst out of the
earth with great force, and are received in very clean reser-
voirs. Out of the village, and more towards the mountains,
there are said to be still stronger ones. The water has not
the slightest smell of sulphur ; and neither at its source, nor
in its channel, does it make the least deposit of ochre, or of
any other earth or mineral, but, like any other clear spring-
water, it leaves not the slightest trace behind it. As it comes
out of the earth, it is extremely hot, and is famous for its
good qualities. We had still time for a walk to the foot of
the Gemmi, which appeared to us to be at no great distance.
I must here repeat a remark that has been made so often
already, — that, when one is surrounded with mountain scen-
ery, all objects appear to be extremely near. We had a good
league to go, — across fragments of rocks which had fallen
46 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
from the heights, and over gravel brought down b}- the tor
rents, — before we reached the foot of the Gemmi, where the
road ascends along the precipitous crags. This is the only
pass into the canton of Berne, and the sick have to be trans-
ported along it in sedan-chairs.
If the season did not bid us hasten onward, we should
probably to-morrow make an attempt to ascend this remark-
able mountain : as it is, however, we must content ourselves
with the simple view of it. On our return we saw the clouds
brewing, which in these parts is a highly interesting sight.
The fine weather we have hitherto enjoyed has made us
almost entirely forget that we are in November : moreover, as
they foretold us in Berne, the autumn here is very delightful.
The short days, however, and the clouds, which threaten snow,
warn us how late it is in the year. The strange drift which
has been agitating them this evening was singularly beautiful.
As we came back from the foot of the Gemmi, we saw light
mists come up the ravine from Inden, and move with great
rapidity. They continually changed their direction, going,
now forward, now backward ; and at last, as they ascended,
they came so near to Leukerbad, that we saw clearly that we
must double our steps, if we would not, before nightfall, be
enveloped in the clouds. However, we reached our quar-
ters without accident ; and, whilst I write this, it is snow-
ing in earnest. This is the first fall of snow that we have
yet had ; and when we call to mind our warm ride yesterday,
from Martinac to Sion, beneath the vine-arbors, which were
still pretty thick with leaves, the change does appear sudden
indeed. I have been standing some time at the door, ob-
serving the character and look of the clouds, which are
beautiful beyond description. It is not yet night ; but at in-
tervals the clouds veil the whole sky, and make it quite
dark. They rise out of the deep ravines until they reach
the highest summits of the mountains : attracted by these,
they appear to thicken ; and, being condensed by the cold,
they fall down in the shape of snow. It gives you an in-
expressible feeling of loneliness to find yourself here at this
height, as it were, in a sort of well, from which you scarcely
can suppose that there is even a footpath to get out by,
except down the precipice before you. The clouds which
gather here in this valley, at one time completely hiding the
immense rocks, and absorbing them in a waste, impenetrable
gloom, or at another letting a part of them be seen, like
huge spectres, give to the people a cast of melancholy. In
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 47
the midst of such natural phenomena, the people are full of
presentiments and forebodings. Clouds, a phenomenon re-
markable to every man from his youth up, are in the flat
countries, generally looked upon at most as something for-
eign, something super- terrestrial. People regard them as
strangers, as birds of passage, which, hatched under a dif-
ferent climate, visit this or that country for a moment or
two in passing ; as splendid pieces of tapestry, wherewith
the gods part off their pomp and splendor from human eyes.
But here, where they are hatched, one is enveloped in them
from the very first, and the eternal and intrinsic energy of
his nature feels moved at every nerve to forebode, and to
indulge in presentiments.
To the clouds, which with us even produce these effects,
we pay little attention : moreover, as they are not pushed so
thickly and directly before our eyes, their economy is the
more difficult to observe. With regard to all such phe-
nomena, one's only wish is to dwell on them for a while, and
to be able to tarry several days in the spots where they are
observable. If one is fond of such observations, the desire
becomes the more vivid, the more one reflects that every
season of the year, every hour of the day, and every change
of weather, produces new phenomena which we little looked
for. And as ho man, not even the most ordinary character,
was ever a witness, even for once, of great and unusual
events, without their leaving behind in his soul some traces
or other, and making him feel himself also to be greater for
this one little shred of grandeur, so that he is never weary
of telling the whole tale of it over again, and has gained, at
any rate, a little treasure for his whole life, just so is it with
the man who has seen and become familiar with the grand
phenomena of nature. He who manages to preserve these
impressions, and to combine them with other thoughts and
emotions, has, assuredly, a stock of spice wherewith to sea-
son the most tasteless parts of life, and to give a pervading
relish to the whole of existence.
I observe that in my notes I make very little mention of
human beings. Amid these grand objects of nature, they are
but little worthy of notice, especially where they do but come
and go. I doubt not but that, on a longer stay, we should
meet with many worthy and interesting people. One thing I
think I have observed everywhere, — the farther one moves
from the high road and the busy marts of men, the more
people are shut in by the mountains, isolated and confined to
48 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
the simplest wants of life, the more they draw their mainte-
nance from simple, humble, and unchangeable pursuits, the
better, the more obliging, the more friendly, unselfish, and
hospitable they are.
Leukerbad, Nov. 10, 1779.
We are getting ready by candle-light, in order to descend
the mountain again as soon as day breaks. I have passed
a rather restless night. I had not been long in bed before I
felt as if I were attacked all over with the nettle-rash. I
soon found, however, that it was a swarm of jumping insects,
who, ravenous for blood, had fallen upon the new-comer.
These insects breed in great numbers in these wooden
houses. The night appeared to me extremely long ; and I
was heartily glad, when, in the morning, a light was brought
in.
Leukerbad.
About ten o'clock.
We have not much time to spare : however, before we set
out, I will give you an account of the remarkable breaking
up of our company, which has here taken place, and also of
the cause of it. We set out from Leukerbad with daybreak
this morning, and had to make our way over the meadows
through the fresh and slippery snow. We soon came to
Inden, where, leaving above us on our right the precipitous
road which we came down yesterda}', we descended to the
meadow lands along the ravine, which now lay on our left.
It is extremely wild, and overgrown with trees ; but a very
tolerable road runs down into it. Through the clefts in the
rock, the water which comes down from Leukerbad has its
outlets into the Valais. High up on the side of the hill
which yesterday we descended, we saw an aqueduct skil-
fully cut out of the rock, by which a little stream is con-
ducted from the mountain, then through a hollow into a
neighboring village.
Next we had to ascend a steep height, from which we soon
saw the open country of Valais, with the dirty town of Valais
lying beneath us. These little towns are mostly stuck on
the hillsides, the roofs inelegantly covered with coarsely split
planks, which within a year become black, and overgrown
with moss ; and when you enter them you are at once dis-
gusted, for every thing is dirty. Want and hardship are
everywhere apparent among these highly privileged and free
burghers.
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 49
We found here our friend, who brought the unfavorable
report, that it was beginning to be injudicious to proceed
farther with the horses. The stables were everywhere small
and narrow, being built only for mules or sumpter-horses ;
oats, too, were rarely to be procured : indeed, he was told,
that, higher up among the mountains, there were none to
be had. Accordingly a council was held. Our friend, with
the horses, was to descend the Valais, and go by Bee,
Vevay, Lausanne, Freiburg, and Berne, to Lucerne ; while
the count and I pursued our course up the Valais, and en-
deavored to penetrate to Mount Gothard, and then through
the canton of Uri, and by the lake of the Forest Towns, like-
wise make for Lucerne. In these parts you may anywhere
procure mules, which are better suited to these roads than
horses ; and to go on foot is, after all, the most agreeable
mode of travel. Our friend is gone, and our portmanteaus
packed on the back of a mule, and so we are now ready to
set off, and make our way on foot to Brieg. The sky has a
motley appearance : still I hope that the good luck which has
hitherto attended us, and attracted us to this distant spot,
will not abandon us at the very point where we have the
most need of it.
Brieg, Nov. 10, 1779.
Evening.
Of to-day's expedition I have little to tell you, unless you
would like to be entertained with a long circumstantial
account of the weather. About eleven o'clock we set off
from Leuk, in company with a Suabian butcher's boy, — who
had run away hither, and had found a place, where he served
somewhat in the capacity of Hanswurst (Jack-pudding) , —
and with our luggage packed on the back of a mule, which its
master was driving before him. Behind us, as far as the eye
could reach, thick snow-clouds, which came driving up the
lowlands, covered every thing. It was really a dull aspect.
Without expressing my fears, I felt anxious, lest — even
though right before us it looked as clear as it could do in
the land of Goshen — the clouds might, nevertheless, over-
take us ; and here, perhaps in the territory of the Valais, shut
in on both sides by mountains, we might be covered with the
clouds, and in one night snowed up. Thus whispered alarm,
which got possession almost entirely of one ear : at the other,
good courage was speaking in a confident tone, and, reprov-
ing me for want of faith, kept reminding me of the past, and
50 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
called my attention to the phenomena of the atmosphere
before us. Our road went continually on towards the fine
weather. Up the Rhone all was clear ; and, although a strong
west wind kept driving the clouds behind us, they could not
reach us.
The following was the cause of this. Into the valley of
Valais there are, as I have so often remarked already, run-
ning down from the neighboring mountain chains, many
ravines, which fall into it like little brooks into a great
stream, as, indeed, all their waters flow off into the Rhone.
Out of each of these openings rushes a current of wind,
which has been forming in the inner valleys and nooks of
the rocks. "Whenever the principal drift of the clouds up
the valley reaches one of these ravines, the current of the
wind does not allow the clouds to pass, but contends with
them and with the wind that is driving them, and thus
detains them, and disputes with them for whole hours the
passage up the valley. This conflict we often witnessed ;
and, when we believed we should surely be overtaken by the
clouds, an obstacle of this kind would again arise ; and, after
we had gone a league, we found they had scarcely stirred
from the spot.
Towards evening the sky was uncommonly beautiful. As
we arrived at Brieg, the clouds got there almost as soon as
we : however, as the sun had set, and a driving east wind
blew against them, they were obliged to come to a halt, and
formed a huge crescent, from mountain to mountain, across
the valley. The cold air had greatly condensed them ; and,
where their edge stood out against the blue sky, it presented
to the eye many beautiful, light, and elegant forms. It was
quite clear that they were heavy with snow : however, the
fresh air seemed to us to promise that much would not fall
during the night.
Here we are in a very comfortable inn ; and, what greatly
tends to make us contented, we have found a roomy chamber
with a stove in it, so that we can sit by the fireside, and take
counsel together as to our future travels. Through Brieg
runs the usual road to Italy, over the Simplon. Should we,
therefore, give up our plan of going over the Furca to Mount
St. Gothard, we shall go with hired horses and mules to
Domo d'Ossula, Margozro, pass up Lago Maggiore, and
then to Bellinzona, and then on to St. Gothard, and over
Airoio, to the monastery of the Capuchins. This road is
passable all the winter through, and good travelling for
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 51
horses. However, to our minds it is not very inviting,
especially as it was not in our original plan, and will not
bring us to Lucerne till five days after our friend. "We should
like better to see the whole of the Valais up to its extreme
limit, whither we hope to come fry to-morrow evening ; and, if
fortune favors, we shall be sitting, by about the same time
next day, in Realp, in the canton of Uri, which is on Mount
Gothard, and very near to its highest summit. If we then
find it impossible to cross the Furca, the road back to this
spot will still be open to us, and we then shall pursue from
necessity what we will not do from choice.
You can well believe that I have here closely examined the
people, whether they believe that the passage over the Furca
is open ; for that is the one idea with which I rise, and lie
down to sleep, and occupy myself all day long. Hitherto
our journey was like a march directed against an enemy ;
and now it is as if we were approaching the spot where he
has intrenched himself, and we must give him battle. Be-
sides our mule, two horses are ordered to be ready by the
evening.
Munster, Nov. 11, 1779.
Evening, six o'clock.
Again we have had a pleasant and prosperous day. This
morning, as we set out early and in good time from Brieg,
our host, when we were already on the road, said, " If the
mountain (so they call the Furca here) should prove too
fearful, you can easily come back, and take another route."
With our two horses and mule we soon came upon some
pleasant meadows, where the valley becomes so narrow that
it is scarcely some gunshots wide. Here are some beautiful
pasture-lands, on which stand large trees ; while pieces of
rock lie scattered about, which have rolled down from the
neighboring mountains. The valley gradually grows nar-
rower ; and the traveller is forced to ascend along the side of
the mountain, having, the while, the Rhone below him, in a
rugged ravine on his left. Above him, however, the land is
beautifully spread out. On the variously undulating hills are
verdant and rich meadows and pretty hamlets, which, with
their dark-brown wooden houses, peep out prettily from
among the snow. We travelled a good deal on foot, and we
did so in turns to accommodate one another ; for, although
riding is safe enough, still it excites one's alarm to see
another riding before you along so narrow a track, and
52 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
on so weak an animal, and just on the brink of so rugged a
precipice. And, as no cattle can be left in the meadows (for
the people here shut them all up in sheds at this season) ,
such a countiy looks lonely ; and the thought that one is
continually being hemmed in closer and closer by the vast
mountains fills the imagination with sombre and disagreeable *
fancies, enough to make you fall from 3*0111* seat if you are
not very firm in the saddle. Man is never perfectly master
of himself. As he lives in utter ignorance of the future, as,
indeed, what the next moment may bring forth is hidden from
him, he has often, when an}* thing unusual falls beneath his
notice, to contend with involuntary sensations, forebodings,
and dream-like fancies, at which shortly afterwards he may
laugh outright, but which at the decisive moment are often
extremely oppressive.
In our noonday quarters we met with some amusement.
We had taken up our lodgings with a woman in whose house
every thing looked neat and orderly. Her room, after the
fashion of the country, was wainscoted ; the beds orna-
mented with carving ; the cupboards, tables, and all the
other little repositories which were fastened agaiust the walls
or to the corners, had pretty ornaments of turner's work or
carving. From the portraits which hung around in the room,
it was easy to see that several members of the family had
devoted themselves to the clerical profession. We also
observed over the door a collection of bound books, which
we took to be the endowment of one of these reverend per-
sonages. We took down the " Legends of the Saints," and
read it while our meal was preparing. On one occasion of
our hostess' entering the room, she asked us if we had ever
read the history of St. Alexis. We said no, and took no
further notice of her question, but went on reading the chap-
ter we each had begun. When, however, we had sat down
to table, she placed herself by our sides, and began again to
talk of St. Alexis. We asked her whether he was her patron
saint or that of her family ; which she denied, affirming at the
same time, however, that this saintly person had undergone
so much for the love of God, that his history always affected
her more than any other's. When she saw that we knew
nothing about him, she began to tell us his history. " St.
Alexis," she said, -'was the son of noble, rich, and God-
fearing parents in Rome ; and in the practice of good works
he delighted to follow their example, for they did extraor-
dinary good to the poor. All this, however, did not appear
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 53
enough to Alexis ; but he secretly devoted himself entirely
to God's service, find vowed to Christ perpetual virginity.
When, in the course of time, his parents wished to marry
him to a lovely and amiable maiden, he did not oppose their
will, and the marriage ceremony was concluded ; but, instead
of retiring to his bed in the nuptial chamber, he went on
board a vessel which he found ready to sail, and with it
passed over to Asia. Here he assumed the garb of a
wretched mendicant, and became so thoroughly disguised,
that the servants of his father who had been sent after him
failed to recognize him. Here he posted himself near the
door of the principal church, invariably attending the divine
services, and supporting himself on the alms of the faithful.
After two or three years, various miracles took place, be-
tokening the special favor of the Almighty. In the church,
the bishop heard a voice bidding him summon into the sacred
temple that man whose prayer was most acceptable to God,
and to keep him by his side while he celebrated divine wor-
ship. As the bishop did not at once know who could be
meant, the voice went on to announce to him the beggar,
whom, to the great astonishment of the people, he imme-
diately fetched into the church. St. Alexis, embarrassed by
having the attention of the people directed to him, quietly
and silently departed, also on shipboard, intending to pro-
ceed still farther abroad. But, by a tempest and other cir-
cumstances, he was compelled to land in Italy. The saint,
seeing in all this the finger of God, was rejoiced to meet
with an opportunity of exercising self-denial in the highest
degree. He therefore set off direct for his native town, and
placed himself as a beggar at the door of his parents' house.
With their usual pious benevolence did they receive him, and
commanded one of their servants to furnish him with lodging
in the castle and with all necessary sustenance. This ser-
vant, annoyed at the trouble he was put to, and displeased
with his master's benevolence, assigned to this seeming beg-
gar a miserable hole under some stone steps, where he threw
to him, as to a dog, a sorry pittance of food. The saint,
instead of suffering himself to be vexed thereat, first of all
thanked God sincerely for it in his heart, and not only bore
with patient meekness all this, which he might easily have
altered, but, with incredible and superhuman fortitude, en-
dured to witness the lasting grief of his parents and his
wife for his absence. For he heard his much-loved parents
and his beautiful spouse invoke his name a hundred times a
54 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
clay, and pray for his return, and he saw them waste their
days in sorrow for his supposed absence." At this passage
of her narrative our good hostess could not refrain her tears ;
while her two daughters, who during the story had crept
close to her side, kept steadily looking up in their mother's
face. "But," she continued, "great was the reward which
the Almighty bestowed on his constancy, giving him, at his
death, the greatest possible proofs of his favor in the eyes
of the faithful. For after living several years in this state,
daily frequenting the service of God with the most fervent
zeal, he at last fell sick, without any particular heed being
given to his condition by any one. One morning shortly
after this, while the Pope was himself celebrating high mass,
in the presence of the emperor and all the nobles, suddenly
all the bells in the whole city of Rome began to toll, as if
for the passing knell of some distinguished personage.
Whilst every one was full of amazement, it was revealed to
the Pope that this marvel was in honor of the death of the
holiest person in the whole city, who had but just died in the
house of the noble patrician. The father of Alexis, being
interrogated, thought at once of the beggar. He went home,
and found him beneath the stairs, quite dead. In his folded
hands the saintly man clutched a paper, which his old father
sought in vain to take from him. He returned to the church,
and told all this to the emperor and the Pope, who thereupon,
with their courtiers and clergy, set off to visit the corpse of
the saint. When they reached the spot, the holy father
took the paper without difficulty out of the hands of the
dead man, and handed it to the emperor, who thereupon
caused it to be read aloud by his chancellor. The paper
contained the history of the saint. Then you should have
seen the grief of his parents and wife, which now became
excessive, — to think that they had had near to them a son
and husband so dear, for whom there was nothing too good
that they would not have done ; and then, too, to know how
ill he had been treated ! They fell upon his corpse and wept
so bitterly, that there was not one of the bystanders who
could refrain from tears. Moreover, among the multitude
of the people who gradually flocked to the spot, there were
many sick, who were brought to the body, and by its touch
were made whole."
When she had finished her story, she affirmed over and
over again, as she dried her eyes, that she had never heard
a more touching history ; and I, too, was seized with so great
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 55
a desire to weep, that I had the greatest difficulty to hide
and suppress it. After dinner I looked out the legend itself
in "Father Cochem," and found that the good dame had
dropped none of the purely human traits of the story, while
she had clean forgotten all the tasteless remarks of this
writer.
We keep going continually to the window, watching the
weather, and are at present very near offering a prayer to
the wind and clouds. Long evenings and universal stillness
are the elements in which writing thrives right merrily ; and
I am convinced, that if, for a few months only, I could con-
trive, or were obliged, to stay at a spot like this, all my
unfinished dramas would of necessity be completed one after
another.
We have already had several people before us, and ques-
tioned them with regard to the pass over the Furca ; but
even here we have been unable to gain any precise informa-
tion, although the mountain is only two or three leagues
distant. We must, however, rest contented ; and we shall
set ourselves at break of day to reconnoitre, and see how
destiny will decide for us. However, in general, I may be
disposed to take things as they go, it would, I must confess,
be highly annoying to me if we should be forced to retrace
our steps again. If we are fortunate, we shall be by to-mor-
row evening at Realp or St. Gothard, and by noon the
next day among the Capuchins, at the summit of the moun-
tain. If things go unfortunately, we have two roads open
for a retreat, — back through the whole of Valais, and by
the well-known road over Berne to Lucerne ; or back to
Brieg, and then by a wide detour to St. Gothard. I think
in this short letter I have told you three times. But in fact
it is a matter of great importance to us. The issue will de-
cide which was in the right, — our courage, which gave us a
confidence that we must succeed, or the prudence of certain
persons who were very earnest in trying to dissuade us from
attempting this route. This much, at any rate, is certain,
that both prudence and courage must own chance to be over
them both. And now that we have once more examined the
weather, and found the air to be cold, the sky bright, and
without any signs of a tendency to snow, we shall go calmly
to bed.
56 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
Monster, Nov. 12, 1776.
Six o'clock in the morning.
We are quite ready, and all is packed up in order to set
out hence with the break of day. We have before us two
leagues to Oberwald, and from there the usual reckoning
makes six leagues to Realp. Our mule is to follow us with
the baggage as far as it is possible to take him.
Realp, Nov. 12, 1779.
Evening.
We reached this place just at nightfall. We have sur-
mounted all difficulties, and the knots which entangled our
path have been cut in two. Before I tell you where we are
lodged, and before I describe to you the character of our
hosts, allow me the gratification of going over in thought the
road which we did not see before us without anxiety, but
which we have left behind us without accident, though not
without difficulty. About seven we started from Munster,
and saw before us the snow-covered amphitheatre of moun-
tain summits, and took to be the Furca the mountain which
in the background stood obliquely before it. But, as we after-
wards learned, we made a mistake : it was concealed from
our view by the mountains on our left and by high clouds.
The east wind blew strong, and fought with some snow-
clouds, chasing the drifts, now over the mountains, now up
the valley. But this only made the snow-drifts deeper on the
ground, and caused us several times to miss our way ;
although, shut in as we were on both sides, we could not fail
of reaching Oberwald eventually. About nine we actually
got there ; and, when we dropped in at an inn, its inmates
were not a little surprised to see such characters appear there
this time of the year. We asked whether the pass over the
Furca were still practicable ; and they answered, that their
folk crossed for the greater part of the winter, but whether
we should be able to get across, they could not tell. We
immediately sent for some of these persons to be our guides.
There soon appeared a strong, thick-set peasant, whose very
look and shape inspired confidence. With him we imme-
diately began to treat : if he thought the pass was practi-
cable for us, let him say so, and then take one or more
comrades and come with us. After a short pause he agreed,
and went away to get ready and to fetch the others. In the
mean time we paid our muleteer the hire of his beast, since
we could no longer make any use of his mule ; and having
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 57
eaten some bread and cheese, and drank a glass of red wine,
felt full of strength and spirits, as our guide came back,
followed by another man, who looked still bigger and stronger,
and, seeming to have all the strength and courage of a horse,
he quickly shouldered our portmanteau. And now we set
out, a party of five, through the village, and soon reached
the foot of the mountain, which lay on our left, and began
gradually to ascend it. At first we had to follow a beaten
track which came down from a neighboring Alp : soon, how-
ever, this came to an end, and we had to go up the mountain
side through the snow. Our guides, with great skill, tracked
their way among the rocks around which the usual path
winds, although the deep and smooth snow had covered all
alike. Still our road lay through a forest of pines, while
the Rhone flowed beneath us in a narrow, unfruitful valley.
Into it we also, after a little while, had to descend, and, by
crossing a little foot-bridge, we came in sight of the glacier
of the Rhone. It is the hugest we have as yet had so full a
view of. Being of very great breadth, it occupies the whole
saddle of the mountain, and descends uninterruptedly down
to the point, where, in the valley, the Rhone flows out of it.
At this source the people tell us it has for several years been
decreasing. But that is as nothing compared with all the rest
of the huge mass. Although every thing was full of snow,
still the rough crags of ice, on which the wind did not allow
the snow to lie, were visible with their dark-blue fissures, and
you could see clearly where the glacier ended and the snow-
covered rock began. To this point, which lay on our left,
we came very close. Presently we again reached a light
foot-bridge over a little mountain-stream, which flowed
through a barren, trough-shaped valley to join the Rhone.
After passing the glacier, neither on the right, nor on the
left, nor before you, was there a tree to be seen : all was one
desolate waste, — no rugged and prominent rocks, nothing
but long smooth valleys, slightly inclining eminences, which
now, in the snow, which levelled all inequalities, presented to
us their simple, unbroken surfaces. Turning now to the left,
we ascended a mountain, sinking at every step deep in the
snow. One of our guides had to go first, and, boldly tread-
ing down the snow, break the way by which we were to follow.
It was a strange sight, when, turning for a moment your
attention from the road, you directed it to yourself and your
fellow-travellers. In the most desolate region of the world,
in a boundless, monotonous wilderness of mountains envel-
58 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
oped in snow, where, for three leagues before and behind .
you would not expect to meet a living soul, while on both
sides you had the deep hollows of a web of mountains, you
might see a line of men wending their way, treading each in
the deep footsteps of the one before him, and where, in the
whole of the wide expanse thus smoothed over, the eye
could discern nothing but the track they left behind them.
The hollows as we left them lay behind us gray and bound-
less in the mist. The changing clouds continually passed
over the pale disk of the sun, and spread over the whole
scene a perpetually moving veil. I am convinced that any
one, who, while pursuing this route, allowed his imagination
to gain the mastery, would, even in the absence of all imme-
diate danger, fall a victim to his own apprehensions and
fears. In reality, there is little or no risk of a fall here. The
great danger is from the avalanches, when the snow has
become deeper than it is at present, and begins to roll.
However, our guide told us that they cross the mountains
throughout the winter, carrying from Valais to St. Gothard
skins of the chamois, in which a considerable trade is carried
on here. But then, to avoid the avalanches, they do not take
the route that we did, but remain for some time longer in
the broad valley, and then go straight up the mountain. This
road is safer, but much more inconvenient. After a march
of about three hours and a half, we reached the saddle of the
Furca, near the cross which marks the boundary of Valais
and Uri. Even here we could not distinguish the double
peak from which the Furca derives its name. We now hoped
for an easier descent ; but our guides soon announced to us
still deeper snow, as we immediately found it to be. Our
march continued in single file, as before ; and the foremost
man, who broke the path, often sank up to his waist in the
snow. The readiness of the people, and their light way of
speaking of matters, served to keep up our courage ; and
I will say, for myself, that I have accomplished the journey
without fatigue, although I cannot sa}^ that it was a mere
walk. The huntsman Hermann asserted that he had often
before met with equally deep snow in the forests of Thu-
ringia ; but at last he could not help bursting out with a loud
exclamation, " The Furca is a " —
A vulture, or lammergeyer, swept over our heads with
incredible rapidity. It was the only living thing that we had
met with in this waste. In the distance we saw the moun-
tains of the Ursi lighted up with the bright sunshine. Our
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 59
guides wished to enter a shepherd's hut which had been
abandoned and snowed up, and to take something to eat ; but
we urged them to go onwards to avoid standing still in the
cold. Here, again, is another group of valleys ; and at last
we gained an open view into the Valley of the Ursi.
We now proceeded at a shorter pace ; and, after travelling
about three leagues and a half from the cross, we saw the
scattered roofs of Realp. We had several times questioned
our guides as to what sort of an inn, and what kind of wine,
we were likely to find in Realp. The hopes they gave us
were any thing but good ; but they assured us that the
Capuchins there, although they had not, like those on the
summit of St. Gothard, an hospice, were in the habit of
entertaining strangers. We should there get some good red
wine, and better food than at an inn. We therefore sent
one of our party forward to inform the Capuchins of our
arrival, and procure a lodging for us. We did not loiter
long behind, and arrived very soon after him, when we were
received at the door by one of the fathers, — a portly, good-
looking man. With much friendliness of manner he invited
us to enter, and at the threshold begged that we would put
up with such entertainment as they could offer, since at no
time, and least of all at this season of the year, were they
prepared to receive such guests. He therefore led us into a
warm room, and was very busy waiting upon us, while we
took off our boots, and changed our linen. He begged us
once for all to make ourselves perfectly at home. As to our
meat, we must, he said, be indulgent ; for they were in the
middle of their long fast, which would last till Christmas Day.
We assured him that a warm room, a bit of bread, and a
glass of red wine, would, in our present circumstances, fully
satisfy all our wishes. He procured us what we asked for ;
and we had scarcely refreshed ourselves a little, ere he began
to recount to us all that concerned the establishment, and
the settlement of himself and fellows, on this waste spot.
"We have not," he said, " an hospice, like the fathers on
Mount St. Gothard : we are here in the capacity of parish
priests, and there are three of us. The duty of preaching
falls to my lot : the second father has to look after the
school ; and the brother, after the household." He went on
to describe their hardships and toils, here, at the farthest
end of a lonely valley, separated from all the world, and
working hard to very little profit. This spot, like all others,
was formerly provided with a secular priest ; but, an ava-
60 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
lanche having buried half of the village, the last one had run
away, and taken the pyx with him, whereupon he was sus-
pended, and they, of whom more resignation was expected,
were sent there in his place.
In order to write all this, I had retired to an upper room,
which is warmed from below by a hole in the floor ; and I
have just received an intimation that dinner is ready, which,
notwithstanding our luncheon, is right welcome news.
About nine.
The fathers, priests, servants, guides, and all, took their
dinner together at a common table. The brother, however,
who superintended the cooking, did not make his appearance
till dinner was nearly over. Out of milk, eggs, and flour he
had compounded a variet}' of dishes, which we tasted one
after another, and found them all very good. Our guides,
who took great pleasure in speaking of the successful issue
of our expedition, praised us for our uncommon dexterity in
travelling, and assured us that it was not every one that they
would have undertaken the task of being guides to. They
even confessed, also, that this morning, when their services
were required, one had gone first to reconnoitre, and to see
if we looked like people who would really go through all
difficulties with them ; for they were particularly cautious
how they accompanied old or weak people at this time of the
year, since it was their duty to take over in safety every one
they had once engaged to guide, being bound, in case of his
falling sick, to carry him, even though it should be at the
imminent risk of their own lives, and, if he were to die on
the passage, not to leave his body behind. This confession
at once opened the flood-gates to a host of anecdotes ; and
each, in turn, had his story to tell of the difficulties and
dangers of wandering over the mountains amidst which the
people had here to live as in their proper element ; so that
with the greatest indifference they speak of mischances and
accidents to which they themselves are daily liable. One of
them told a story of how, on the Candersteg, on his way to
Mount Gemmi, he and a comrade with him (he is mentioned
on every occasion with both Christian and surname) found
a poor family in the deep snow, the mother dying, her boy
half dead, and the father in that state of indifference which
verges on a total prostration of intellect. He took the
woman on his back, and his comrade her son ; and, thus laden.
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 61
they hud driven before them the father, who was unwilling
to move from the spot.
During the descent of Gemmi the woman died on his back ;
but he brought her, dead as she was, to Leukerbad. When
we asked what sort of people they were, and what could have
brought them at such a season into the mountains, he said
they were poor people of the canton of Berne, who, driven
by want, had taken to the road at an unseasonable period of
the year, in the hope of finding some relations either in
Valais or the Italian canton, and had been overtaken by a
snow-storm. Moreover, they told many anecdotes of what
had happened to themselves during the winter journeys over
the Furca with the chamois-skins ; on which expeditions,
however, they always travelled in companies. Every now
and then our reverend host would make excuses for the
dinner, and we redoubled our assurances that we wished for
nothing better. We also found that he contrived to bring
back the conversation to himself and his own matters,
observing that he had not been long in this place. He began
to talk of the office of preaching and of the skill that a
preacher ought to have. He compared the good preacher to
a chapman who cleverly puffs his wares, and by his pleasant
words makes himself agreeable to his customers. After
dinner he kept up the conversation ; and, as he stood with his
left hand leaning on the table, he accompanied his remarks
with his right, and, while he discoursed most eloquently on
eloquence, appeared at the moment as if he wished to con-
vince us that he himself was the clever chapman. We
assented to his observations, and he came from the lecture to
the thing itself. He panegyrized the Roman-Catholic reli-
gion. " We must," he said, '* have a rule of faith ; and the
great value of it consists in its being fixed, and as little as
possible liable to change. We," he said, tL had made Scrip-
ture the foundation of our faith ; but it was insufficient. We
ourselves would not venture to put it into the hands of com-
mon men ; for holy as it is, and full as every leaf is of the
Spirit of God, still the worldly-minded man is insensible of
all this, and finds rather perplexities and stumbling-blocks
throughout. What good can a mere layman extract from
the histories of sinful men which are contained therein, and
which the Holy Ghost has there recorded for the strengthen-
ing of the faith of the tried and experienced children of God ?
What benefit can a common man draw from all this, when
he is unable to consider the whole context and connection?
62 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
f
How is such a person to see his way clear out of the seeming
contradictions which occasionally occur, out of the diffi-
culties which arise from the ill arrangement of the books, and
the differences of style, when the learned themselves find it
so hard, and while so many passages make them hold their
reason in abeyance? What ought we, therefore, to teach?
A rule of faith founded on Scripture, and proved by the best
of commentaries? But who, then, is to comment upon Scrip-
ture? Who is to set up this rule? I, perhaps, or some other
man? By no means. Every man has his own way of taking
and seeing things,, and represents them after his own ideas.
That would be to give to the people as many systems of
doctrines as there are heads in the world, and to produce
inexplicable confusion, as indeed had already been done. No :
it remains for the Holy Church alone to interpret Scripture,
to determine the rule by which the souls of men are to
be guided and governed. And what is the Church? It is
not any single supreme head, or any particular member alone.
No ! it is all the holiest, most learned, and most experienced
men of all times, who, with the co-operation of the Holy
Spirit, have successively combined in building up that great,
universal, and agreeing body, which has its great councils for
its members to communicate their thoughts to one another,
and for mutual edification ; which banishes error, and there-
by imparts to our holy religion a certainty and a stability
such as no other profession can pretend to, and gives it a
foundation, and strengthens it with bulwarks which even
hell cannot overthrow. And just so it is with the text of
the Sacred Scriptures. We 'have," he said, "the Vulgate,
moreover, an approved version of the Vulgate, and of every
sentence a commentary which the Church itself has accred-
ited. Hence arises that uniformity of our teaching which
surprises every one. Whether," he continued, "you hear
me preach in this most remote corner of the world, or, in the
great capital of a distant country, are listening to the dullest
or cleverest of preachers, all will hold one and the same lan-
guage. A Cathofic Christian will always hear the same doc-
trine : everywhere will he be instructed and edified in the
same manner. And this is what constitutes the certainty of
our faith, what gives us the peace and confidence by which
we in life hold sure communion with our brother Catholics,
and at death we can calmly part in the sure hope of meeting
one another again."
In his speech, as in a sermon, he let the subjects follow iu
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 63
due order, and spoke more from an inward feeling of satisfac-
tion that he was exhibiting himself under a favorable aspect
than from any bigoted anxiety for conversion. During the
delivery he would occasionally change the arm he rested upon,
or draw them both into the arms of his gown, or let them rest
on his portly stomach ; now and then he would, with much
grace, draw his snuff-box out of his capote, and, after usjng
; it, replace it with a careless ease. We listened to him atten-
tively, and he seemed to be quite content with our way of
receiving his instructions. How greatly amazed would he
have been if an angel had revealed to him at the moment,
that he was addressing his peroration to a descendant of
Frederick the Wise !
Nov. 13, 1779.
Among the Capuchins, on the summit of Mount St. Gothard.
Morning, about ten o'clock.
At last we have fortunately reached the utmost limits of
our journey. Here it is determined we shall rest a while, and
then turn our steps towards our dear fatherland. Very strange
are my feelings here, on this summit, where, four years ago, I
passed a few days with very different anxieties, sentiments,
plans, and hopes, and at a very different season of the year,
when, without any foreboding of my future fortunes, but
moved by I know not what, I turned my back upon Italy, and
ignorantly went to meet my present destiny. I did not even
recognize the house again. Some time ago it was greatly
injured by an avalanche ; and the good fathers took advantage
of this opportunity, and made a collection throughout the
canton for enlarging and improving their residence. Both of
the two fathers who reside here at present are absent ; but,
as I hear, they are still the same that I met four years ago.
Father Seraphin, who has now passed fourteen years in this
post, is at present at Milan ; and the other is expected to-day
from Airolo. In this clear atmosphere the cold is awful.
As soon as dinner is over, I will continue my letter ; for I
see clearly we shall not go far outside the door.
After dinner.
It is getting colder and colder. One does not like to stir
from the stove. Indeed, it is most delightful to sit upon it,
which in this country, where the stoves are made of stone
tiles, it is very easy to do so. First of all, therefore, we will
64 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. ,
tell you of our departure from Realp, and then of our jour-
ney hither.
Yesterday evening, before we retired to our beds, the good
father would show us his bedroom, where every thing was in
nice order, in a very small space. His bed, which consisted
of a bag of straw, with a woollen coverlid, did not appear to
us to be any thing very meritorious, as we ourselves had often
put up with no better. With great pleasure and internal sat-
isfaction he showed us every thing, — his book-case and all
other things. We praised all that we saw ; and, parting on
the best terms with each other, we retired for the night. In
furnishing our room, in order that two beds might stand
against one wall, both had been made unusually small. This
inconvenience kept me long awake, until I thought of reme-
dying it by placing four chairs together. It was quite broad
daylight before we awoke this morning. When we went
down, we found nothing but happy and friendly faces. Our
guides, on the point of entering upon their return over yes-
terday's beautiful route, seemed to look upon it as an epoch,
and as a history with which hereafter they would be able to
entertain other strangers ; and, as they were well paid, the
idea of an adventure became complete in their minds. After
this, we made a capital breakfast, and departed.
Our road now lay through the Valley of the Uri, which is
remarkable as having, at so great an elevation, such beautiful
meadows, and pasturage for cattle. They make here a cheese
which I prefer to all others. No trees, however, grow here.
Sally-bushes line all the brooks, and on the mountains little
shrubs grow thickly together. Of all the countries that I
know, this is to me the loveliest and most interesting, —
whether it is that old recollections make it precious to me, or
that the reception of such a long chain of Nature's wonders
excites within me a secret and inexpressible feeling of enjoy-
ment. I take it for granted that you bear in mind that the
whole country through which I am leading you is covered
with snow, and that rock and meadow alike are snowed over.
The sky has been quite clear, without a single cloud ; the hue
far deeper than one is accustomed to see in low and flat
countries ; and the white mountain-ridges, which stood out in
strong contrast to it, were either glittering in the sunshine, or
else took a grayish tint in the shade.
In an hour and a half we reached Hopital, — a little village
within the canton of Uri, which lies on the road to St. Go-
thard. Here, at last, I regained the track of my former tour.
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 65
We entered an inn, and, though it was as yet morning, or-
dered a dinner, and soon afterward began to ascend the sum-
mit. A long train of mules, with their bells, enlivened the
whole region. It is a sound which awakens all one's recol-
lections of mountain scenery. The greater part of the train
was in advance of us, and, with their sharp iron shoes, had
pretty well cut up the smooth, icy road. We also saw some
laborers who were employed in covering the slippery ice with
fresh earth in order to render it passable. The wish which
I formerly gave utterance to, that I might one day be per-
mitted to see this part of the world under snow, is now at
last gratified. The road goes up the Reuss, as it dashes
down over rocks all the way, and forms everywhere the most
beautiful waterfalls. We stood a long while attracted by the
singular beauty of one, which, in considerable volume, was
dashing over a succession of dark black rocks. Here and
there, in the cracks and on the flat ledges, pieces of ice had
formed ; and the water seemed to be running over a varie-
gated black-and-white marble. The masses of ice glistened
in the sun like veins of costal, and the water flowed pure
and fresh between them.
On the mountains, there are no more tiresome fellow-trav-
ellers than a train of mules, they have so unequal a pace.
With a strange instinct, they always stop a while at the bot-
tom of a steep ascent, and then dash off at a quick pace up
it, to rest again at the top. Very often, too, they will stop
at the level spots, which do occur now and then, until they
are forced on by the drivers, or by other beasts coming up.
And so the foot-passenger, by keeping a steady pace, soon
gains upon them, and in the narrow road has to push by
them. If you stand still a little while to observe any object,
they, in their turn, will pass by you, and you are pestered
with the deafening sound of their bells, and hard brushed
with their loads, which project to a good distance on each
side of them. In this way we at last reached the summit of
the mountain, of which you can form some idea by fancying
a bald skull surrounded with a crown. Here one finds him-
self on a perfect flat surrounded with peaks. Far and near
the eye meets with nothing but bare and mostly snow-covered
peaks and crags.
It is scarcely possible to keep one's self warm, especially
as they have here no fuel but brushwood, and of that, too,
they are obliged to be Aery sparing, as they have to fetch it
up the mountains, from a distance of at least three leagues ;
66 LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND.
for at the summit, they tell us, scarcely any kind of wood
grows. The reverend father is returned from Airolo, so
frozen, that, on his arrival, he could scarcely utter a word.
Although here the Capuchins are allowed to clothe themselves
a little more comfortably than the rest of their order, still
their style of dress is b} T no means suited to such a climate as
this. All the way up from Airolo, the road was frozen per-
fectly smooth, and he had the wind in his face. His heard
was quite frozen, and it was a long while before he recovered.
We had some conversation together on the hardships of their
residence : he told us how they managed to get through the
3 T ear, their various occupations, and their domestic circum-
stances. He could speak nothing but Italian, and so we had
an opportunity of putting to use the exercises which we had
taken in this language during the spring. Towards evening,
we went for a moment outside the house-door, that the good
father might point out to us the peak which is considered to
be the highest summit of Mount Gothard. But we could
scarcely endure to stay out a very few minutes, so searching
and pinching was the cold. This time, therefore, we shall
remain close shut up within doors, and shall have time
enough, before we start to-morrow, to travel again, in thought,
over all the most remarkable parts of this region.
A brief geographical description will enable you to under-
stand how remarkable the point is at which we are now sit-
ting. St. Gothard is not, indeed, the highest mountain of
Switzerland (in Savoy, Mont Blanc has a far higher eleva-
tion) ; and yet it maintains above all others the rank of a king
of mountains, because all the great chains converge together
around it, and all rest upon it as on their base. Indeed, if
I do not make a great mistake, I think I was told at Berne,
by Herr Wyttenbach, who from its highest summit had seen
the peaks of all the others, that the latter all leaned towards
it. The mountains of Schweitz and Unterwalden, joined by
those of Uri, range from the north ; from the east, those of the
Grisons ; from the south, those of the Italian cantons ; while
from the west, by means of the Furca, the double line of
mountains which enclose Valais presses upon it. Not far
from this house there are two small lakes, one of which sends
forth the Ticino through gorges and vallej^s into Italy ; while
from the other, in like manner, the Reuss proceeds, till it
empties itself in the Lake of the Forest towns. 1 Not far
from this spot are the sources of the Rhine, which pursue an
1 Lake Lucerne.
LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND. 67
easterly course ; and if then we take in the Rhone, which rises
at the foot of the Furca, and runs westward through Valais,
we shall find ourselves at the point of a cross, from which
mountain ranges and rivers proceed towards the four cardinal
points.
Goethe — C y i 4
TRAVELS IN ITALY.
AUCH IN ARCADIEN.
TKAVELS IN ITALY.
AUCH IN ARCADIEN.
FROM CARLSBAD TO THE BRENNER.
Sept. 3, 1786.
As early as three o'clock in the morning, I stole out of
Carlsbad ; for otherwise I should not have been allowed to
depart quietly. The band of friends, who, on the 28th of
August, rejoiced to celebrate my birthday, had in some degree
acquired a right to detain me. However, it was impossible
to stay here any longer. Having packed a portmanteau
merely, and a knapsack, I jumped alone into a post-chaise ;
and by half-past eight, on a beautifully calm but foggy morn-
ing, I arrived at Zevoda. The upper clouds were streaky
and fleecy, the lower ones heavy. This appeared to me a
good sign. I hoped, that, after so wretched a summer, we
should enjoy a fine autumn. About twelve I got to Egra,
under a warm and shining sun ; and now it occurred to me,
that this place had the same latitude as my own native town,
and it was a real pleasure to me once more to take my mid-
day meal beneath a bright sky, at the fiftieth degree.
On entering Bavaria, one comes at once on the monastery
of Walclsassen, with the valuable domain of the ecclesiasti-
cal lords who were wise sooner than other men. It lies in
a dish-like, not to say caldron-like, hollow, in a beautiful
wheat-ground, enclosed on all sides by slightly ascending
and fertile heights. This cloister also possesses settlements
in the neighboring districts. The soil is decomposed slate-
clay. The marl which is found in this mineral formation,
and which, as yet undecomposed, slowly crumbles, makes
the earth loose and extremely fertile. The land continues
to rise until you come to Tirschenreuth, and the waters flow
71
72 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
against you, to fall into the Egra and the Elbe. From Tirsch-
enreuth it descends southwards, and the streams run towards
the Danube. I can very rapidly form an idea of a country
as soon as I know by examination which way even the least
brook runs, and can determine the river to whose basin it
belongs. By this means, even in those districts of which it
is impossible to take a survey, one can, in thought, form a
connection between lines of mountains and valleys. From
the last-mentioned place begins an excellent road formed of
granite. A better one cannot be conceived ; for, as the
decomposed granite consists of gravelly and argillaceous
earths, they bind excellently together, and form a solid foun-
dation, so as to make a road as smooth as a threshing-floor.
The country through which it runs looks so much the worse :
it also consists of a granite-sand, lies very flat and marshy,
and the excellent road is all the more desirable. And as,
moreover, the roads descend gradually from this plane, one
gets on with a rapidity that strikingly contrasts with the
general snail's pace of Bohemian travelling. The enclosed
billet will give you the names of the different stages. Suffice
it to say, that, on the second morning, I was at Ratisbon ;
and so I did these twenty-four miles * and a half in thirty-
nine hours. As the day began to dawn, I found myself be-
tween Schwondorf and Regenstauf ; and I observed here a
change for the better in the cultivation of the land. The
soil was no longer the mere debris of the rock, but a mixed
alluvial deposit. The inundation by which it was deposited
must have been caused by the ebb and flood, from the basin
of the Danube, into all the valleys which at present drain
their water into it. In this way were formed the natural
boles {polder) on which the tillage is carried on. This
remark applies to all lands in the neighborhood of large or
small streams, and with this guide any observer may form
a conclusion as to the soils suited for tillage.
Ratisbon is, indeed, beautifully situated. The country
could not but invite men to settle, and build a city in it, and
the spiritual lords have shown their judgment. All the land
around the town belongs to them : in the city itself churches
crowd churches, and monastic buildings are no less thick.
The Danube reminds me of the dear old Main. At Frank-
fort, indeed, the river and bridges have a better appearance :
1 A Gorman mile is exactly equal to four English geographical, and to rather
more than four and a quarter ordinary miles. The distance in the text may there-
fore be roughly set down as one hundred and four miles English. — A. J. W. M.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 73
here, however, the view of the northern suburb, Stadt-am-
hof, looks very pretty, as it lies before you across the river.
Immediately on my arrival I betook myself to the College
of the Jesuits, where the annual play was being acted by the
pupils. I saw the end of the opera and the beginning of
the tragedy. They did not act worse than many an unexpe-
rienced company of amateurs, and their dresses were beau-
tiful, almost too .superb. This public exhibition also served
to convince me still more strongly of the worldly prudence
of the Jesuits. They neglect nothing that is likely to pro-
duce an effect, and contrive to practise it with interest and
care. In this there is not merely prudence, such as we
understand the term abstractedly : it is associated with a
real pleasure in the matter in hand, a sympathy and a fellow-
feeling, a taste, such as arises from the experience of life.
As this great society has among its members organ-builders,
sculptors, and gilders, so, assuredly, there are some who pat-
ronize the stage with learning and taste ; and, just as they
decorate their churches with appropriate ornaments, these
clear-sighted men take advantage of the world's sensual eye
by an imposing theatre.
To-day I am writing in latitude forty-nine degrees. The
weather promises to be fair, and even here the people com-
plain of the coldness and wet of the past summer. The
morning was cool, but it was the beginning of a glorious and
temperate day. The mild atmosphere which the mighty river
brings with it is something quite peculiar. The fruits are
nothing very surprising. I have tasted, indeed, some excel-
lent pears ; but I am longing for grapes and figs.
My attention is riveted by the actions and principles of
the Jesuits. Their churches, towers, and buildings have
a something great and perfect in their plan, which imposes
all beholders with a secret awe. In the decoration, gold,
silver, metal, and polished marble are accumulated in such
splendor and profusion as must dazzle the beggars of all
ranks. Here and there one fails not to meet with something
in bad taste in order to appease and to attract humanity.
This is the general character of the external ritual of the
Roman-Catholic Church ; but I have never seen it applied
with so much shrewdness, tact, and consistency as among
the Jesuits. Here all tends to this one end. Unlike the
members of the other spiritual orders, they do not continue
an old, worn-out ceremonial, but, humoring the spirit of the
age, continually deck it out with fresh pomp and splendor.
74 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
A rare stone is quarried here into blocks. In appearance
it is a species of conglomerate : however, it must be held to
be older, more primary, and of a porphyritic nature. It is
of a greenish color, mixed with quartz, and is porous : in it
are found large pieces of very solid jasper, in which, again,
are to be seen little round pieces of a kind of breccia. A
specimen would have been very instructive, and one could
not help longing for one. The rock, however, was too solid ;
and I had taken a vow not to load myself with stones on this
journey.
Munich, Sept. 6, 1786.
At half-past twelve on the 5th of September, I set off
for Ratisbon. At Abbach the country is beautiful, while
the Danube dashes against limestone rocks as far as Saal ;
the limestone somewhat similar to that at Osteroda, on the
Hartz, — close, but, on the whole, porous. By six a.m. I
was in Munich ; and, after having looked about me for some
twelve hours, I will notice only a few points. In the Sculp-
ture Gallery I did not find myself at home. I must practise
my eye, first of all, on paintings. There are some excellent
things here. The sketches of Rubens from the Luxembourg
Gallery caused me the greatest delight.
Here, also, is the rare toy, a model of Trajan's Pillar.
The material lapis-lazuli, and the figures in gilt. It is, at
any rate, a rare piece of workmanship, and in this light
one takes pleasure in looking at it.
In the Hall of the Antiques I soon felt that my eye was
not much practised on such objects. On this account I was
unwilling to stay long there, and to waste my time. There
was much that did not take my fancy, without my being able
to say why. A Drusus attracted my attention ; two Anto-
nines pleased me, as also did a few other things. On the
whole, the arrangement of the objects was not happy, al-
though there is an evident attempt to make a display with
them ; and the hall, or rather the museum, would have a good
appearance if it were kept in better repair and cleaner. In
the Cabinet of Natural History I saw beautiful things from
the Tyrol, which in smaller specimens I was already ac-
quainted with, and indeed possessed.
I was met by a woman with figs, which, as the first, tasted
delicious ; but the fruit in general is not good, considering
the latitude of forty-eight degrees. Every one is complain-
ing here of the wet and cold. A mist, which might well be
TETTERS FROM ITALY. 75
called a rain, overtook me this morning early, beiovo i reached
Munich. Throughout the day the wind has continued to
blow cold from off the Tyrolese mountains. As I looked
towards them from the tower, I found them covered, and the
whole heavens shrouded with clouds. Now, at setting, the
sun is shining on the top of the ancient tower, which stands
right opposite to my window. Pardon me that I dwell so
much on wind and weather. The traveller by land is almost
as much dependent upon them as the voyager by sea ; and it
would be a sad thing if nvy autumn in foreign lands should be
as little favored as my summer at home.
And now straight for Innspruck. What a deal I pass
over, both on my right and on my left, in order to carry out
the one thought which has become almost too old in my soul !
Mittelwald, Sept. 7, 1786.
It seems as if my guardian-spirit had said "Amen" to
my "Credo," and I thank him that he has brought me to
this place on so fine a day. My last postilion said, with a
joyous exclamation, it was the first in the whole summer. I
cherish in quiet my superstition that it will long continue so :
however, my friends must pardon me if again I talk of air
and clouds.
As I started from Munich, about five o'clock, the sky had
cleared. On the mountains of the Tyrol the clouds stood in
huge masses. Nor did the streaks in the lower regions move."
The road lies on the heights, over hills of alluvial gravel,
while below one sees the Isar flowing slowly. Here the
work of the inundations of the primal oceans becomes con-
ceivable. In many granite rubbles I found the counterparts
of the specimens in my cabinet, for which I have to thank
Knebel.
The mists rising from the river and the meadows hung
about for a time ; but at last they, too, dispersed. Between
these gravelly hills, which you must think of as extending,
both in length and breadth, for many leagues, is a highly
beautiful and fertile region like that in the basin of the
Regen. Now one comes again upon the Isar, and observes
in its channel a precipitous section of the gravel-hills, at
least a hundred and fifty feet high. I arrived at Wolf raths-
hausen, and reached the eight and fortieth degree. The sun
was scorching hot. No one relies on the fine weather. Every
one is complaining of the past year, and bitterly weeping
over the arrangements of Providence,
76 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
And now a new world opened upon me. I was approach-
ing the mountains, which stood out more and more distinctly.
Benedictbeuern has a glorious situation, and charms one at
the first sight. On a fertile plain is a long and broad white
building, and behind it a broad and lofty ridge of rocks.
Next, one ascends to the Kochel-see, and, still higher on the
mountains, to the Walchen-see. Here I greeted the first
snow-capped summit, and, in the midst of my admiration at
being so near the snowy mountains, I was informed that
yesterday it had thundered in these parts, and that snow
had fallen on the heights. From these meteoric tokens
people draw hopes of better weather, and from this early
snow anticipate change in the atmosphere. The rocks
around me are all of limestone, of the oldest formation, and
containing no fossils. These limestone mountains extend,
in vast, unbroken ranges, from Dalmatia to Mount St.
Gothard. Hacquet has travelled over a considerable portion
of the chain. They dip on the primary rocks of the quartz
and clay.
I reached Walchen-see about half-past four. About
three miles from this place I met with a pretty adventure.
A harper and his daughter, a little girl of about eleven years,
were walking before me, and he begged of me to take up
his child. He went on with his instrument. I let her sit by
my side ; and she very carefully placed at her feet a large
new box, — a pretty and accomplished creature, and already
pretty well acquainted with the world. She had been on a
pilgrimage on foot, with her mother, to Maria Einsiedel ; and
both had determined to go upon the still longer journey to
St. Jago of Compostella, when her mother was carried off by
death, and was unable to fulfil her vow. It was impossible,
she thought, to do too much in honor of the Mother of God.
After a great fire, in which a whole house was burnt to the
lowest foundation, she herself had seen the image of the
Mother of God, which stood over the door, beneath a glass
frame, —image and glass both uninjured ; which was surely
a palpable miracle. All her journeys she had taken on foot.
She had just played in Munich, before the elector of Bavaria,
and altogether her performances had been witnessed by one
and twenty princely personages. She quite entertained me.
Pretty, large hazel eyes, a proud forehead, which she fre-
quently wrinkled by an elevation of the brows. She was
natural and agreeable when she spoke, and especially when
she laughed out loud with the free laugh of childhood.
LETTEKS FROM ITALY. 77
When, on the other hand, she was silent, she seemed to have
a meaning in it, and, with her upper lip, had a sinister
expression. I spoke with her on very many subjects : she
was at home with all of them, and made most pertinent
remarks. Thus she asked me once what tree one we came
to was. It was a huge and beautiful maple, the first I had
seen on my whole journey. She narrowly observed it, and
was quite delighted when several more appeared, and she
was able to recognize this tree. She was going, she told me,
to Botzen, for the fair, where she guessed I, too, was hasten-
ing. When she met me there, I must buy her a fairing ;
which, of course, I promised to do. She intended to put on
there her new coif, which she had had made out of her earn-
ings at Munich. She would show it to me beforehand. So
she opened the bandbox ; and I could not do less than admire
the head-gear, with its rich embroidery and beautiful ribbons.
Over another pleasant prospect we felt a mutual pleasure.
She asserted that we had fine weather before us ; for they
always carried their barometer with them, and that was the
harp. When the treble-string twanged, it was sure to be fine
weather ; and it had done so yesterday. I accepted the omen,
and we parted in the best of humors and with the hope of
a speedy meeting.
On the Brenner, Sept. 8, 1786.
Evening.
Hurried, not to say driven here by necessity, I have
reached at last a resting-place in a calm, quiet spot just
such as I could wish it to be. It has been a day which for
many years it will be a pleasure to recall. I left Mittelwald
about six in the morning, and a sharp wind soon perfectly
cleared the sky. The cold was such as one looks for only in
February. But now, in the splendor of the setting sun, the
dark foreground thickly planted with fig-trees, and, peeping
between them, the gray limestone rocks, and, behind all, the
highest summit of the mountain covered with snow, and
standing out in bold outline against the deep blue sky, fur-
nish precious and ever-changing images.
One enters the Tyrol by Scharnitz. The boundary line is
marked bj' a wall which bars the passage through the valley,
and abuts on both sides on the mountains. It looks well.
On one side the rocks are fortified ; on the other they ascend
perpendicularly. From Seefeld the road continually grew
more interesting, and from Benedictbeuern to this place it
78 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
went on ascending, from height to height ; while all the
streams of the neighboring districts were making for the
Isar. Now one caught a sight, over a ridge of rocks, of
the Valley of the Inn ; and Inzingen lay before us. The sun
was high and hot, so that I was obliged to throw off some of
my coats ; for indeed, with the varying atmosphere of the
day, I am obliged frequently to change my clothing.
At Zierl one begins to descend into the Valley of the Inn.
Its situation is indescribably beautiful, and the bright beams
of the sun made it look quite cheerful. The postilion went
faster than I wished ; for he had not yet heard mass, and
was anxious to be present at it at Innspruck, where, as it
was the festival of the Nativity of the Virgin Mary, he
hoped to be a devout participant. Accordingly, we rattled
along the banks of the Inn, hurrying by Martins wand, — a
vast, precipitous, wall-like rock of limestone. To the spot
where the Emperor Maximilian is said to have lost himself,
I ventured to descend, and came up again without a guide ;
although it is, in any case, a rash undertaking.
Innspruck is gloriously situated in a rich, broad valley,
between high rocks and mountains. Every body and every
thing was decked out in honor of the Virgin's Nativity. At
first I had some wish to stop there, but it promised neither
rest nor peace. For a little while I amused myself with the
son of my host. At last the people who were to attend to
me came in one by one. For the sake of health, and pros-
perity to the flocks, they had all gone on a pilgrimage to
Wilden, — a place of worship on the mountains, about three
miles and a half from the city. About two o'clock, as my roll-
ing carriage divided the gay, merry throng, every one was in
holiday garb and promenade.
From Innspruck the road becomes even still more beauti-
ful : no powers of description can equal it. The most fre-
quented road, ascending a gorge which empties its waters into
the Inn, offers to the eye innumerable varieties of scenery.
While the road often runs close to the most rugged rocks,
indeed is frequently cut right through them, one sees the
other side above you slightly inclining, and cultivated with
the most surprising skill. On the high and broad-ascending
surface lie vahVys, houses, cottages, and cabins, whitewashed,
glittering among the fields and hedges. Soon all changed :
the land becomes available only for pasture, until it, too,
terminates on the precipitous ascent. I have gained some
ideas for my scheme of a creation ; none, however, perfectly
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 79
new and unexpected. I have also dreamed much of the model
I have so long talked about, by which I am desirous to give
a notion of all that is brooding in my own mind, and which
in nature itself I cannot point out to every eye.
Now it grew darker and darker ; individual objects were
lost in the obscurity ; the masses became, constantly vaster
and grander ; at last, as the whole moved before me like some
deeply mysterious figure, the moon suddenly illuminated the
snow-capped summits ; and now I am waiting till morning
shall light up this rocky chasm in which I am shut up on the
boundary-line of the north and south.
I must again add a few remarks on the weather, which,
perhaps, favors me so highly in return for the great attention
I pay to it. On the lowlands one has good or bad weather
when it is already settled for either : on the mountains one is
present with the beginning of the change. I have so often
experienced this when, on my travels, or walks, or hunting-
excursions, I have passed days and nights between the cliffs
in the mountain forests. On such occasions a conceit occurred
to me, which I give you as nothing better, but which, however,
I cannot get rid of, as indeed, generally, such conceits are, of
all things, most difficult to get rid of. I altogether look upon
it as a truth ; and so I will now give utterance to it, especially
as I have already so often had occasion to prove the indul-
gence of my friends.
When we look at the mountains, either closely or from a
distance, and see their summits above us, at one time glitter-
ing in the sunshine, at another enveloped in mist, swept round
with strong clouds, or blackened with showers, we are dis-
posed to ascribe it all to the atmosphere, as we can easily with
the eye see and discern its movements and changes. The
mountains, on the other hand, with their glorious shapes, lie
before our outward senses immovable. We take them to be
dead, because they are rigid ; and we believe them to be inac-
tive, because they are at rest. For a long while, however, I
cannot put off the impulse to ascribe, for the most part, to
their imperceptible and secret influence the changes which are
observable in the atmosphere. For instance, I believe that
the mass of the earth generally, and therefore, also, in an
especial way, its more considerable continents, do not exercise
a constant and invariable force of attraction, but that this
attractive force manifests itself by a certain pulse, which,
according to intrinsic, necessary, and probably, also, acci-
dental external causes, increases or decreases^ Though all
80 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
attempts by other objects to determine this oscillation may
be too limited and rude, the atmosphere furnishes a standard
both delicate and large enough to test their silent operations.
When this attractive force decreases never so little, immedi-
ately the decrease in the gravity, and the diminished elasticity
of the air, indicate this effect. The atmosphere is now
unable to sustain the moisture which is diffused throughout it,
either chemically or mechanically : the clouds lower, and the
rain falls, and passes to the lowlands. When, however, the
mountains increase their power of attraction, then the elas-
ticity of the air is again restored, and two important phe-
nomena result. First of all, the mountains collect around
their summits vast masses of clouds, hold them fast and firm
above themselves like second heads, until, as determined by
the contest of electrical forces within them, they pour down
as thunder-showers, rain, or mist ; and then, on all that
remains, the electricity of the air operates, which is now re-
stored to a capacity of retaining more water, dissolving and
elaborating it. I saw quite clearly 'the dispersion of a cloudy
mass of this kind. It was hanging on the very highest peak :
the red tints of the setting sun still illuminated it. Slowly
and slowly pieces detached themselves from either end.
Some fleecy nebulae were drawn off, and carried up still
higher, and then disappeared ; and in this manner, by de-
grees, the whole mass vanished, and was strangely spun away
before my eyes, like a distaff, by invisible hands.
If my friends are disposed to laugh at the itinerant meteor-
ologist and his strange theories, I shall, perhaps, give them
more solid cause for laughter by some other of my remarks ;
for I must confess, that as my journey was, in fact, a flight
from all the unshapely things which tormented me in latitude
51°, I hoped in 48° to meet with a true Goshen. But I
found myself disappointed ; for latitude alone does not make
a climate and fine weather, but the mountain chains, espe-
cially such as intersect the land from east to west. In these,
great changes are constantly going on ; and the lands which
lie to the north have most to suffer from them. Thus, far-
ther north, the weather throughout the summer was deter-
mined by the great Alpine range on which I am now writing.
Here, for the last few months, it has rained incessantly, while
a south-east or south-west wind carried the showers north-
wards. In Italy they are said to have had fine weather;
indeed, a little too dry,
And now a few words on a kindred subject, — the vegeta-
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 81
ble world, which in so many ways depends on climate and
moisture, and the height of the mountain ranges. Here, too,
I have noticed no remarkable change, but still an improve
ment. In the valley before Innspruck, apples and pears are
abundant ; while the peaches and grapes are brought from
the Welsh districts, or, in other words, the Southern Tyrol.
Near Innspruck they grow a great deal of Indian corn and
buckwheat, which they call blende. On the Brenner I first
saw the larch, and near Schemberg the pine. Would the
harper's daughter have questioned me about them also?
As regards the plants, I feel still more how perfect a tyro
I am. Up to Munich I saw, I believed, none but those I
was well accustomed to. In truth, my hurried travelling by
day and night was not favorable to nicer observation on such
objects. Now, it is true, I have my " Linnaeus " at hand ; and
his terminology is well stamped on my brain. But whence
are the time and quiet to come for analyzing, which, if I at
all know myself, will ever become my forte? I, therefore,
sharpen my eye for the more general features ; and, when I
met with the first - gentiana near the Walchensee, it struck
me that it was always near the water that I had hitherto
noticed any new plants.
What made me still more attentive was the influence which
the altitude of the mountain region evidently had on plants.
Not only did I meet there with new specimens, but I also
observed that the growth of the old ones was materially
altered. While, in the lower regions, branches and stalks
were stronger and more sappy, the buds stood closer together,
and the leaves broader, the higher you got on the mountains,
the stalks and branches became more fragile, the buds were
at greater intervals, and the leaves thinner and more lanceo-
late. I noticed this in the case of a willow and of a gentiana,
and convinced myself that it was not a case of different spe-
cies. So also, near the Walchensee, I noticed longer and
thinner rushes than anywhere else.
The limestone of the Alps which I have as yet travelled
over has a grayish tint, and beautiful, singular, irregular
forms ; although the rock is divisible into blocks and strata.
But as irregular strata occur, and the rock in general does
not crumble equally under the influence of the weather, the
sides and the peaks have a singular appearance. This kind
of rock comes up the Brenner to a great height. In the
region of the Upper Lake I noticed a slight modification.
On a micaceous slate of dark green and gray colors, and
82 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
thickly veined with quartz, lay a white, solid limestone,
which, in its detritus, sparkled, and stood in great masses,
with numberless clefts. Above it I again found micaceous
slate, which, however, seemed to me to be of a softer texture
than the first. Higher up still, there was to be seen a peculiar
kind of gneiss, or rather a granitic species which approximated
to gneiss, as in the district of Ellbogen. Here at the top, and
opposite the Inn, the rock is micaceous slate. The streams
which come from the mountains leave deposits of nothing
but this stone and of the gray limestone.
Not far from here must be the granitic base on which all
rests. The maps show that one is on the side of the true
great Brenner, from which the streams of a wide surrounding
district take their rise.
The following is my external judgment of the people.
They are active and straightforward. In form they are
pretty generally alike. Hazel, well-opened eyes : with the
women, brown and well-defined eyebrows, but with the men,
light and thick. Among the gray rocks, the green hats of
the men have a cheerful appearance. The hats are generally
ornamented with ribbons, or broad silk sashes, and with
fringes, which are prettily sewn on. On the other hand, the
women disfigure themselves with white undressed cotton caps
of a large size, very much like men's nightcaps. These give
them a very strange appearance ; but abroad, they wear the
green hats of the men, which become them very much.
I have opportunity of seeing the value the common class
of people put upon peacock's feathers, and in general how
every variegated feather is prized. He who wishes to travel
through these mountains will do well to take with him a lot
of them. A feather of this kind produced at the proper
moment will serve instead of the ever- welcome ' ' something
to drink."
Whilst I am putting together, sorting, and arranging these
sheets, in such a way that my friends may easily take a
review of my fortunes up to this point, and that I may at
the same time dismiss from my soul all that I have lately
thought and experienced, I have, on the other hand, cast
many a trembling look on some packets of which I must
give a good but brief account. They are to be my fellow-
travellers : may they not exercise too great an influence on
my next few days !
I brought with me to Carlsbad the whole of my manu-
scripts in order to complete the edition of my works which
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 83
Goschen has undertaken. The unprinted ones I had long
possessed in beautiful transcripts by the practised hand of
Secretary Vogel. This active person accompanied me on
this occasion in order that I might, if necessary, command
his dexterous services. By this means, and with the never-
failing co-operation of Herder, I was soon in a condition to
send to the printer the first four volumes, and was on the
point of doing the same with the last four. The latter con-
sisted, for the most part, of mere unfinished sketches, indeed
of fragments ; for, in truth, my perverse habit of beginning
many plans, and then, as the interest waned, laying them
aside, had gradually gained strength with increasing years,
occupations, and duties.
As I had brought these scraps with me, I readily listened
to the requests of the literary circles of Carlsbad, and read
out to them all that before had remained unknown to the
world, which already was bitter enough in its complaints that
much with which it had entertained itself still remained
unfinished.
The celebration of my birthday consisted mainly in send-
ing me several poems in the name of my commenced but un-
finished works. Among these, one was distinguished above
the rest. It was called " The Birds." A deputation of these
happy creatures, being sent to a true friend, earnestly en-
treat him to found at once and establish the kingdom so
long promised to them. Not less obvious and playful were
the allusions to my other unfinished pieces ; so that all at
once they again possessed a living interest for me, and I
related to my friends the designs I had formed, and the
entire plans. This gave rise to the expression of wishes and
urgent requests, and gave the game entirely into Herder's
hands ; while he attempted to induce me to take back these
papers, and, above all, to bestow upon the "Iphigenia"
the pains it well deserved. The fragment which lies before
me is rather a sketch than a finished piece. It is written
in poetical prose, which occasionally falls into a sort of
iambical rhythm, and even imitates other syllabic metres.
This, indeed, does great injury to the effect, unless it is read
well, and unless, by skilful turns, this defect is carefully
concealed. He pressed this matter on me very earnestly ;
and as I concealed from him, as well as the rest, the great
extent of my intended tour, and as he believed I had noth-
ing more in view than a mountain trip, and as he was always
ridiculing my geographical and mineralogical studies, he in-
84 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
sisted I should act much wiser, if, instead of breaking stones,
I would put my hand to this work. I could not but give way
to so many and well-meant remonstrances > but as yet I have
had no opportunity to turn my attention to these matters. I
now detach, " Iphigenia " from the bundle, and take the play
with me as my fellow-traveller into the beautiful and warm
country of the South. The days are so long, and there will
be nothing to disturb reflection, while the glorious objects
of the surrounding scenery by no means depress the poetic
nerve : indeed, assisted by movement and the free air, they
rather stimulate and call it forth more quickly and more
vividly.
FROM THE BRENNER TO VERONA.
Trent, morning of the 11th September.
After full fifty hours passed in active and constant occupa-
tion, I reached here about eight o'clock yesterday evening,
and soon after retired to rest ; so that I now find myself in
condition to go on with my narrative. On the evening of
the 9th, when I had closed the first portion of my diary, I
thought I would try and draw the inn and post-house on the
Brenner, just as it stood. My attempt was unsuccessful, for
I missed the character of the place : I went home, therefore,
in somewhat of an ill humor. Mine host asked me if I would
not depart, telling me it was moonlight and the best travel-
ling. Although I knew perfectly well, that as he wanted his
horses early in the morning to carry in the after-crop ( Grum-
met) , and wished to have them home again in time for that
purpose, his advice was given with a view to his own inter-
est, I nevertheless took it, because it accorded with my own
inclination. The sun re-appearcd, the air was tolerable. I
packed up, and started about seven o'clock. The blue at-
mosphere triumphed over the clouds, and the evening was
most beautiful.
The postilion fell asleep ; and the horses set off at a quick
trot down hill, always taking the well-known route. When
they came to a village, they went somewhat slower ; then
the driver would wake up, and urge them on again. And
thus we descended at a good pace, with high rocks on both
sides of us, or by the banks of the rapid River Etsch. The
LETTERS FllOM ITALY. 85
moon rose, and shed her light upon the massive objects
around. Some mills which stood between primeval pine-
trees, over the foaming stream, seemed really everlasting.
When, at nine o'clock, I had reached Sterzingen, they
gave me clearly to understand that they wished me off
again. Arriving in Mittelwald exactly at twelve o'clock,
I found everybody asleep except the postilion ; and we
were obliged to go on to Brixen, where they again, as
it were, eloped with me, so that at dawn of day I was
in Colman. The postilions drove so fast that there was
neither seeing nor hearing ; and although I could not help
being sorry at travelling through this noble country with
such frightful rapidity, and at night, too, as though I were
fleeing from the place, I nevertheless felt an inward joy
that a favorable wind was blowing from behind me, and
seemed to hurry me towards the object of my wishes. At
da} T break I perceived the first vineyard. A woman with
pears and peaches met me ; and thus we went on to Teutschen,
where I arrived at seven o'clock, and then was again hurried
on. After I had again travelled northwards for a while, I at
last saw in the bright sunshine the valley where Botzen is
situated. Surrounded by steep and somewhat high moun-
tains, it is open towards the south, and sheltered towards
the north by the Tyrolese range. A mild, soft air pervaded
the spot. Here the Etsch again winds towards the south.
The hills at the foot of the mountain are cultivated with
vines. They are trained over long but low arbor- work. The
purple grapes are gracefully suspended from the top, and
ripen in the warmth of the soil, which is close beneath them.
In the bottom of the valley, which, for the most part, con-
sists of nothing but meadows, the vine is cultivated in nar-
row rows of similar festoons, at a little distance from each
other ; while between grows the Indian corn, the stalks of
which at this time are high. I have often seen it ten feet
high. The fibrous male blossom is not yet cut off, as is the
case when fructification has ceased for some time.
I came to Botzen in a bright sunshine. A good assem-
blage of mercantile faces pleased me much. Everywhere
one sees the liveliest tokens of an existence full of purpose,
and highly comfortable. In the square, some fruit- women
were sitting with round flat baskets, above four feet in diam-
eter, in which peaches were arranged side by side so as to
avoid pressure. Here I thought of a verse which I had
seen written on the window of the inn at Ratisbon : —
86 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
" Comme les peches et les melons
Sont pour la bouche d'un baron,
Ainsi les verges et les batons
Sont pour les fous, dit Salomon."
It is obvious that this was written by a northern baron;
and no less clear is it, that, if he were in this country, he
would alter his notions.
At the Botzen fair a brisk silk-trade is carried on.
Cloths are also brought here, and as much leather as can
be procured from the mountain districts. Several mer-
chants, however, came chiefly for the sake of depositing
their money, taking orders, and opening new credits. I felt
I could have taken great delight in examining the various
products that were collected here ; but the impulse, the state
of disquiet, which keeps urging me from behind, would not
let me rest, and I must at once hasten from the spot. For
my consolation, however, the whole matter is printed in the
statistical papers ; and we can, if we require it, get such
instructions from books. I have now to deal only with the
sensible impressions, which no book or picture can give. In
fact, I am again taking an interest in the world ; I am testing
my faculty of observation, and trying how far I can go with
my science and my acquirements, how far my eye is clear
and sharp, how much I can take in at a hasty glance, and
whether those wrinkles that are imprinted upon my heart
are ever again to be effaced. Even in these few days, the
circumstance that I have had to wait upon myself, and have
always been obliged to keep my attention and presence of
mind on the alert, has given me quite a new elasticity of
intellect. I must now busy myself with the currency, must
change, pay, note down, write ; while I formerly did nothing
but think, will, reflect, command, and dictate.
From Botzen to Trent the stage is nine leagues, and runs
through a valley which constantly increases in fertility.
All that merely struggles into vegetation on the higher moun-
tains has here more strength and vitality : the sun shines
with warmth, and there is once more belief in a Deity.
A poor woman cried out to me to take her child into my
vehicle, as the hot soil was burning its feet. I did her this
little service in honor of the strong light of heaven. The
child was strangely decked out, but I could get nothing
from it in any way.
The Etsch flows more gently in these parts, and it makes
broad deposits of gravel in many places. On the land, near
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 87
the river and up the hills, the planting is so thick and close
that one fancies one thing will suffocate the other. It is a
regular thicket of vineyards, maize, mulberry- trees, apples,
pears, quinces, and nuts. The danewort (Attich) thrives
luxuriantly on the walls. Ivy with solid stems runs up the
rocks, on which it spreads itself. The lizards glide through
the interstices ; and whatever has life or motion here,
reminds one of the most charming works of art. The
braided top-knots of the women, the bared breasts and light
jackets of the men, the fine oxen which you see driven
home from market, the laden asses, all combine to pro-
duce one of Heinrich Roos's animated pictures. And when
evening draws on, and through the calmness of the air a
few clouds rest upon the mountains, rather standing than
running against the sky, and as, immediately after sunset,
the chirp of the grasshoppers begins to grow loud, one feels
quite at home in the world, and not a mere exile. I am as
reconciled to the place as if I were born and bred in it, and
had now just returned from Greenland, from a whaling
expedition. Even the dust, which here, as in our country,
often plays about my wheels, and which has so long remained
strange to me, I welcome as an old friend. The bell-like
voice of the cricket is most piercing, and far from unpleas-
ant. A cheerful effect is produced when playful boys
whistle against a field of such singers, and you almost fancy
that the sound on each side is raised by emulation. The
evening here is perfectly mild, no less so than the day.
If any one who lived in the South, or came from the
South, heard my enthusiasm about these matters, he would
consider me very childish. Alas ! what I express here, I
long ago was conscious of while suffering under an
unkindly sky ; and now I love to experience as an exception
the happiness I hope soon to enjoy as a regular natural
necessity.
Trent.
The evening of the 10th September.
I have wandered about the city, which has an old, not to
say a very primitive, look, though there are new and well-
built houses in some of the streets. In the church there is a
picture in which is represented the assembled council of the
Jesuits listening to a sermon delivered by the general of the
order. I should like to know what he is trying to palm
upon them. The church of these fathers may at once be
88 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
recognized from the outside by pilasters of red marble on
the facade. The doors are covered by a heavy curtain,
which serves to keep off the dust. I raised it, and entered a
small vestibule. The church itself is parted off by an iron
grating, but so that it can be entirely overlooked. All was
as silent as the grave, for divine service is no longer per-
formed here. The front-door stood open, merely because
ail churches must be open at the time of vespers.
While I stood considering the architecture, which was, I
found, similar to other Jesuit churches, an old man stepped
in, and at once took off his little black cap. His old faded
black coat indicated that he was a needy priest. He knelt
down before the grating, and rose again after a short prayer.
When he turned round, he said to himself, half aloud,
"Well, they have driven out the Jesuits; but they ought
to have paid them the cost of the church. I know how
many thousands were spent on the church and the semi-
nary." As he uttered this, he left the spot, and the cur-
tain fell behind him. I lifted it again, and kept quiet.
He remained a while standing on the topmost step, and said,
"The emperor did not do it: the pope did it." With his
face turned towards the street, so that he could not observe
me, he continued, "First the Spaniards, then we, then the
French. The blood of Abel cries out against his brother
Cain! " And thus he went down the steps, and along the
street, still talking to himself. I should conjecture he is
one, who, having been maintained by the Jesuits, has lost
his wits in consequence of the tremendous fall of the order,
and now comes every day to search the empty vessel for
its old inhabitants, and, after a short prayer, to pronounce
a curse upon their enemies.
A young man whom I questioned about the remarkable
sights in the town showed me a house which is called the
"Devil's house," because the devil, who is generally too
ready to destroy, is said to have built it in a single night,
with stones rapidly brought to the spot. However, what is
really remarkable about the house, the good man had not
observed ; namely, that it is the only house of good taste
that I have yet seen in Trent, and was certainly built by
some good Italian, at an earlier period. At five o'clock in
the evening I again set off. The spectacle of yesterday
evening was repeated, and at sunset the grasshoppers again
began to sing. For about a league the journey lies between
walls above which the grape-espaliers are visible. Other
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 89
walls, which are not high enough, have been eked out with
stones, thorns, etc., to prevent passengers from plucking off
the grapes. Many owners sprinkle the foremost rows with
lime, which renders the grapes uneatable, but does not hurt
the wine, as the process of fermentation drives out the hete-
rogeneous matter.
Evening of Sept. 11.
I am now at Roveredo, where a marked distinction of
language begins : hitherto it has fluctuated between Ger-
man and Italian. I have now, for the first time, had a thor-
oughly Italian postilion. The inn-keeper does not speak a
word of German, and I must put my own linguistic powers to
the test. How delighted I am that the language I have
always loved most now becomes living, — the language of
common usage !
Torbole, 12th September.
After dinner.
How much do I wish that my friends were with me for a
moment to enjoy the prospect which now lies before my eyes !
I might have been in Verona this evening : but a magnifi-
cent natural phenomenon was in my vicinity, — Lake Garda,
a splendid spectacle, which I did not want to miss ; and now
I am nobly rewarded for taking this circuitous route.
After five o'clock I started from Roveredo, up a side valley,
which still pours its waters into the Etsch. After ascending
this, you come to an immense rocky bar, which you must
cross in descending to the lake. Here appeared the finest
calcareous rocks for pictorial study. On descending, you
come to a little village on the northern end of the lake, with
a little port, or rather landing-place, which is called Torbole.
On my way up, I was constantly accompanied by fig-trees ;
and, descending into the rocky atmosphere, I found the first
olive-tree full of fruit. Here, also, for the first time, I found
as a common fruit those little white figs which the Countess
Lanthieri had promised me.
A door opens from the chamber in which I sit, into the
courtyard below. Before this I have placed my table, and
taken a rough sketch of the prospect. The lake may be seen
for its whole length, and it is only at the end towards the
left that it vanishes from our eyes. The shore, which is
enclosed on both sides by hill and mountain, shines with a
countless number of little hamlets.
90 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
After midnight the wind blows from north to south ; and
he who wishes to go down the lake must travel at this time,
for a few hours before sunset the current of air changes, and
moves northward. At this time (the afternoon) it blows
strongly against me, and pleasantly qualifies the burning
heat of the sun. Volkmann teaches me that this lake was
formerly called " Benacus," and quotes from Virgil a line in
which it was mentioned : —
" Fluctibus et fremiter resonans, Benace, marine"
This is the first Latin verse the subject of which ever
stood visibly before me ; and now, in the present moment,
when the wind is blowing more and more strongly, and the
lake casts loftier billows against the little harbor, it is just
as true as it was hundreds of years ago. Much, indeed, has
changed ; but the wind still roars about the lake, the aspect
of which gains even greater glory from a line of Virgil's.
The above was written in a latitude of 45° 50/
I went out for a walk in the cool of the evening ; and now
I really find myself in a new country, surrounded by objects
entirely strange. The people lead a careless, sauntering life.
In the first place, the doors are without locks ; but the host
assured me that I might be quite at ease, even though all I
had about me consisted of diamonds. In the second place,
the windows are covered with oiled paper instead of glass.
In the third place, an extremely necessary convenience is
wanting, so that one comes pretty close to a state of nature.
When I asked the waiter for a certain place, he pointed
down into the courtyard: "Qui, abasso puo servirsi!" — -
"Dove?" asked I. "Da per tutto, dove vuol," was the
friendly reply. The greatest carelessness is visible every-
where, but still there is life and bustle enough. During
the whole day the women of the neighborhood are incessantly
chattering and shrieking : all have something to do at the
same time. I have not yet seen an idle woman.
The host, with Italian emphasis, assured me that he felt
great pleasure in being able to serve me with the finest trout.
They are taken near Torbole, where the stream flows down
from the mountains, and the fish seeks a passage upward.
The emperor farms this fishery for ten thousand gulden.
The fish, which are large (often weighing fifty pounds) , and
spotted over the whole body to the head, are not trout,
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 91
properly so called. The flavor, which is between that of
trout and salmon, is delicate and excellent.
But my real delight is in the fruit, — in the figs and in the
pears, which must, indeed, be excellent, where citrons are
already growing.
Evening of Sept. 13.
At three o'clock this morning I started from Torbole with a
couple of rowers. At first the wind was so favorable that
we put up a sail. The morning was cloudy, but fine, and per-
fectly calm at daybreak. We passed Limona, the mountain
gardens of which — laid out terrace-fashion, and planted with
citron-trees — have a neat and rich appearance. The whole
garden consists of rows of square white pillars placed at
some distance from each other, and rising up the mountain
in steps. On these pillars strong beams are laid, that the
trees planted between them may be sheltered in the winter.
The view of these pleasant objects was favored by a slow
passage ; and we had already passed Malsesine when the
wind suddenly changed, took the direction usual in the day-
time, and blew towards the north. Rowing was of litle use
against this superior power, and therefore we were forced
to land in the harbor of Malsesine. This is the first Venetian
spot on the eastern side of the lake. When one has to do
with water, we cannot say, l ' I will be at this or that particu-
lar place to-day. " I will make my stay here as useful as
I can, especially by making a drawing of the castle, which
lies close to the water, and is a beautiful object. As I passed
along, I took a sketch of it.
Sept. 14.
The wind, which blew against me yesterday, and drove me
into the harbor of Malsesine, was the cause of a perilous
adventure, which I got over with good humor, and the re-
membrance of which I still find amusing. According to my
plan, I went early in the morning into the old castle, which,
having neither gate nor guard, is accessible to everybody.
Entering the courtyard, I seated myself opposite to the old
tower, which is built on and among the rocks. Here I had
selected a very convenient spot for drawing, — a carved stone
seat in the wall, near a closed door, raised some three or
four feet high, such as we also find in the old buildings in our
own country.
I had not sat long, before several persons entered the
92 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
yard, and walked backward and forward, looking at me. The
multitude increased, and at last so stood as completely to
surround me. I remarked that my drawing had excited
attention. However, I did not allow myself to be disturbed,
but quietly continued my occupation. At last a man, not
of the most prepossessing appearance, came up to me, and
asked me what I was about. I replied that I was copying
the old tower, that I might have some remembrance of Mal-
sesine. He said that this was not allowed, and that I must
leave off. As he said this in the common Venetian dialect,
so that I understood him with difficulty, I answered that I
did not understand him at all. With true Italian coolness
he took hold of my paper, and tore it, at the same time let-
ting it remain on the pasteboard. Here I observed an air .of
dissatisfaction among the bystanders. An old woman, in
particular, said that it was not right, r but that the podesla
ought to be called, who was the best judge of such matters. I
stood upright on the steps, having my back against the door,
and surveyed the assembly, which was continually increasing.
The fixed, eager glances, the good-humored expression of
most of the faces, and all the other characteristics of a foreign
mob, made the most amusing impression upon me. I fancied
that I could see before me the chorus of birds, which, as
Treufreund, I had often laughed at in the Ettersburg theatre.
This put me in excellent humor ; and, when the podesta came
up with his actuary, I greeted him in an open manner, and,
when he asked me why I was drawing the fortification,
modestly replied that I did not look upon that wall as a forti-
fication. I called the attention of him and the people to the
decay of the towers and walls, and to the generally defence-
less position of the place, assuring him that I thought I only
saw and drew a ruin.
I was answered thus : " If it was only a ruin, what could
there be remarkable about it ? ' ' As I wished to gain time
and favor, I replied, very circumstantially, that they must be
w r ell aware how many travellers visited Italy for the sake of
the ruins only ; that Rome, the metropolis of the world, hav-
ing suffered the depredations of barbarians, was now full of
ruins, which had been drawn hundreds of times ; and that all
the works of antiquity w r ere not in such good preservation as
the amphitheatre at Verona, which I hoped soon to see.
The podesta, who stood before me, though in a less elevated
position, was a tall man, not exactly thin, of about thirty
years of age. The flat features of his spiritless face per-
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 93
fectly accorded with the slow, constrained manner in which
he put his questions. Even the actuary, a sharp little fellow,
seemed as if he did not know what to make of a case so new
and so unexpected. I said a great deal of the same sort.
The people seemed to take my remarks good-naturedly ; and,
on turning towards some kindly female faces, I thought I
could read assent and approval.
When, however, I mentioned the amphitheatre at Verona,
which in this country is called the u Arena," the actuary,
who had in the mean while collected himself, replied that this
was all very well, because the edifice in question was a Roman
building, famed throughout the world. In these towers,
however, there was nothing remarkable, excepting that they
marked the boundary between the Venetian domain and Aus-
trian Empire ; and therefore espionage could not be allowed.
I answered by explaining, at some length, that not only the
Greek and Roman antiquities, but also those of the middle
ages, were worth attention. They could not be blamed,
I granted, if, having been accustomed to this building from
their youth upwards, they could not discern in it so many
picturesque beauties as I did. Fortunately the morning sun
shed the most beautiful lustre on the tower, rocks, and
walls ; and I began to describe the scene with enthusiasm.
My audience, however, had these much lauded objects behind
them ; and, as they did not wish to turn altogether away from
me, they all at once twisted their hands, like the birds, which
we call "wry-necks" (Wendehdlse) , that they might see
with their eyes what I had been lauding to their ears. Even
the poclesta turned round, though with more dignity than the
rest, towards the picture I had been describing. This scene
appeared to me so ridiculous that my good humor increased,
and I spared them nothing, least of all, the ivy, which had
been suffered for ages to adorn the rock and walls.
The actuary retorted, that this was all very well : but the
Emperor Joseph was a troublesome gentleman, who certainly
entertained many evil designs against Venice ; and I might,
probably, have been one of his subjects, appointed by him,
to act as a spy on the borders.
"Far from belonging to the emperor," I replied, " I can
boast, as well as you, that I am a citizen of a republic which
also governs itself, but which is not, indeed, to be compared
for power and greatness to the illustrious state of Venice,
although in commercial activity, in wealth, and in the wisdom
of its rulers, it is inferior to no state in Germany. I am a
94 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
native of Fraukfort-on-the-Main, a city the name and fame
of which has doubtless reached you."
"Of Frankfort-on-the-Main ! " cried a pretty young wo-
man. " Then, Mr. Podesta, you can at once see all about
the foreigner, whom I look upon as an honest man. Let
Gregorio be called : he has resided there a long time, and
will be the best judge of the matter."
The kindly faces had already increased around me ; the
first adversary had vanished ; and, when Gregorio came to the
spot, the whole affair took a decided turn in my favor. He
was a man upwards of fifty, with one of those well-known
Italian faces. He spoke and conducted himself like one
who feels that something foreign is not foreign to him, and
told me at once that he had seen service in Bolongari's
house, and would be delighted to hear from me something
about this family and the city in general, which had left a
pleasant impression in his memory. F'ortunately, his resi-
dence at Frankfort had been daring my younger years ; and
I had the double advantage of being able to say exactly how
matters stood in his time, and what alteration had taken
place afterwards. I told him about all the Italian families,
none of whom had remained unknown to me. With many
particulars he was highly delighted, as, for instance, with
the fact that Herr Alessina had celebrated his ' ' golden wed-
ding " 1 in the year 1774, and that a medal had been struck
on the occasion, which was in my possession. He remem-
bered that the wife of this wealthy merchant was by birth a
Brentano. I could also tell him something about the chil-
dren and grandchildren of these families, — how they had
grown up, and had been provided for and married, and
had multiplied in their descendants.
When I had given the most accurate information about
almost every thing about which he had asked, his features
alternately expressed cheerfulness and solemnity. He was
pleased and touched ; while the people cheered up more and
more, and could not hear too much of our conversation, of
which, it must be confessed, he was obliged to translate a
part into their own dialect.
At last he said, " Podesta, I am convinced that this is a
good, accomplished, and well-educated gentleman, who is
travelling about to acquire instruction. We will let him
depart in a friendly manner, that he may speak well of us to
his fellow-countrymen, and induce them to visit Malsesine,
1 The fiftieth anniversary of a wedding-day is so called in Germany. — Trans.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 95
the beautiful situation of which is well worthy the admira-
tion of foreigners." I gave additional force to these kind
words by praising the country, the situation, and the inhabit-
ants, not forgetting to mention the magistrates as wise and
prudent personages.
This was well received ; and I had permission to visit the
place at pleasure, in company with Master Gregorio. The
landlord with whom I had put up now joined us, and was
delighted at the prospect of the foreign guests who would
crowd upon him when once the advantages of Malsesine
were properly known. With the most lively curiosity he
examined my various articles of dress, but especially envied
me the possession of a little pistol, which slipped conven-
iently into the pocket. He congratulated those who could
carry such pretty weapons ; this being forbidden in his
country, under the severest penalties. This friendly but
obtrusive personage I sometimes interrupted to thank my
deliverer. " Do not thank me," said honest Gregorio ; " for
you owe me nothing. If the podesta had understood his
business, and the actuary had not been the most selfish man
in the world, you would not have got off so easily. The
former was still more puzzled than you ; and the latter
would have pocketed nothing by your arrest, the informa-
tion, and your removal to Verona. This he rapidly consid-
ered, and you were already free before our dialogue was
ended."
Towards the evening the good man took me into his vine-
yard, which was very well situated, down along the lake.
We were accompanied by his son, a lad of fifteen, who was
forced to climb the trees, and pluck me the best fruit, while
the old man looked out for the ripest grapes.
While thus placed between these two kind-hearted people,
both strange to the world, alone, as it were, in the deep soli-
tude of the earth, I felt in the most lively manner, as I
reflected on the day's adventure, what a whimsical being
man is ; how the very thing which in company he might
enjoy with ease and security, is often rendered troublesome
and dangerous, from his notion that he can appropriate to
himself the world and its contents after his own peculiar
fashion.
Towards midnight my host accompanied me to the bark,
carrying the basket of fruit with which Gregorio had pre-
sented me, and thus, with a favorable wind, I left the shore,
which had promised to become for me a Lsestrygonicum shore.
96 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
And now for my expedition on the lake. It ended hap-
pily, after the noble aspect of the water, and of the adjacent
shore of Brescia, had refreshed my very heart. On the west-
ern side, where the mountains cease to be perpendicular, and
near the lake, the land becomes more flat. Garignano,
Bojaco, Cecina, Toscolan, Maderno, Verdom, and Salo,
stand all in a row, and occupy a reach of about a league and
a half ; most of them being built in long streets. No words
can express the beauty of this richly inhabited spot. At ten
o'clock in the morning, I landed at Bartolino, placed my lug-
gage on one mule, and myself on another. The road went
now over a ridge which separates the valley of the Etsch
from the hollow of the lake. The primeval waters seem to
have driven against each other from both sides, in immense
currents, and to have raised this colossal dam of gravel. A
fertile soil was deposited upon the gravel at a quieter period,
but the laborer is constantly annoyed by the appearance of
the stones on the surface. Every effort is made to get
rid of them. They are piled in rows and layers one on
another, and thus a sort of thick wall is formed along the
path. The mulberry-trees, from a want of moisture, have a
dismal appearance at this elevation. Springs there are none.
From time to time puddles of collected rain-water may be
found, with which the mules, and even their drivers, quench
their thirst. Some wheels are placed on the river beneath,
to water at pleasure those plantations that have a lower
situation.
The magnificence of the new country, which opens on you
as you descend, surpasses description. It is a garden a mile
long and broad, which lies quite flat at the foot of tall moun-
tains and steep rocks, and is as neatly laid out as possible.
By this way, about one o'clock on the 10th of September, I
reached Verona, where I first write this, finish, and put
together the first part of my diary, and indulge in the
pleasing hope of seeing the amphitheatre in the evening.
Concerning the weather of these days I have to make the
following statement. The night from the 9th to the 10th
was alternately clear and cloudy : the moon had always a
halo round it. Towards five o'clock in the morning, all the
sky was overcast with gray, not heavy clouds, which
vanished with the advance of day. The more I descended,
the finer was the weather. As at Botzen the great mass of
the mountains took a northerly situation, the air displayed
quite another quality. From the different grounds in the
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 97
landscape, which were separated from each other in the most
picturesque manner, by a tint more or less blue, it might be
seen that the atmosphere was full of vapors equally distrib-
uted, which it was able to sustain, and which, therefore,
neither fell in the shape of dew, nor were collected in the
form of clouds. As I descended farther, I could plainly
observe that all the exhalations from the Botzen Valley, and
all the streaks of cloud which ascended from the more
southern mountains, moved towards the higher northern
regions, which they did not cover, but veiled with a kind of
yellow fog. In the remotest distance, over the mountains, I
could observe what is called a "water-gull." To the south
of Botzen they have had the finest weather all the summer,
only a little water (they say aqua to denote a light rain)
from time to time, and then a return of sunshine. Yester-
day a few drops occasionally fell, and the sun throughout
continued shining. They have not had so good a year for 'a
long while ; every thing turns out well : the bad weather they
have sent to us.
I mention but slightly the mountains and the species of
stone; since Ferber's "Travels to Italy," and Hacquet's
"Journey along the Alps," give sufficient information re-
specting this district. A quarter of a league from the Bren-
ner, there is a marble quarry, which I passed at twilight. It
may, nay must, lie upon mica-slate, as on the other side.
This I found near Colman, just as it dawned : lower down
there was an appearance of porphyry. The rocks were so
magnificent, and the heaps were so conveniently broken up
along the highway, that a " Voigt " cabinet might have been
made and packed up at once. Without any trouble of that
kind, I can take a piece, if it is only to accustom my eyes
and my curiosity to a small quantity. A little below Col-
man, I found some porphyry, which splits into regular plates,
and, between Brandrol and Neumark, some of a similar
kind, in which, however, the laminae separated in pillars.
Ferber considered them to be volcanic productions ; but that
was fourteen years ago, when all the world had its head on
fire. Even Hacquet ridicules the notion.
Of the people I can say but little, and that is not very
favorable. On my descent from the Brenner, I discovered,
as soon as day came, a decided change of form, and was
particularly displeased by the pale, brownish complexion of
the women : their features indicated wretchedness. The chil-
dren looked equally miserable, the men somewhat better.
98 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
I imagine that the cause of this sickly condition may be
found in the frequent consumption of Indian corn and buck-
wheat. Both the former (which they also call "Yellow
Blende ") and the latter (which is called " Black Blende ")
are ground, made into a thick pap with water, and thus eaten.
The Germans on this side pull out the dough, and fry it in
butter. The Italian Tyrolese, on the contrary, eat it just as
it is, often with scrapings of cheese, and do not taste meat
throughout the year. This necessarily glues up and stops
the alimentary channels, especially with the women and chil-
dren ; and their cachectic complexion is an indication of the
malady. They also eat fruit and green beans, which they
boil down in water, and mix with oil and garlic. I asked
if there were no rich peasants. "Yes, indeed! " was the
reply. ' ' Don't they indulge themselves at all ? don't they eat
any thing better? " — " No, they are used to it." — "What
do they do with then- money, then? how do they lay it out? "
— " Oh ! they have their ladies, who relieve them of that."
This is the sum and substance of a conversation with mine
host's daughter at Botzen.
I also learned from her that the vine-tillers were the worst
off, although they appeared to be the most opulent ; for they
were in the hands of commercial towns-people, who advanced
them enough to support life in the bad seasons, and in win-
ter took their wine at a low price. However, it is the same
thing everywhere.
My opinion concerning the' food is confirmed by the fact
that the women who inhabit the towns appear better and
better. They have pretty, plump, girlish faces. The body
is somewhat too short, in proportion to the stoutness and the
size of the head ; but sometimes the countenances have a
most agreeable expression. The men we already know
through the wandering Tyrolese. In the country their ap-
pearance is less fresh than that of the women, perhaps
because the latter have more bodily labor, and are more in
motion ; while the former sit at home as traders and work-
men. By the Garda Lake I found the people very brown,
without the slightest tinge of red in their cheeks : however,
they did not look unhealthy, but quite fresh and comfortable.
Probably the burning sunbeams to which they are exposed
at the foot of tbeir mountains are the cause of their com-
plexion.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 99
FROM VERONA TO VENICE.
Verona, Sept. 16.
Well, then, the Amphitheatre is the first important monu-
ment of the old times that I have seen ; and how well it is
preserved ! When I entered, and still more when I walked
round the edge of it at the top, it seemed strange to me
that I saw something great, and yet, properly speaking, saw
nothing. Besides, I do not like to see it empty. I should
like to see it full of people, just as, in modern times, it was
filled up in honor of Joseph I. and Pius VI. The emperor,
although his eye was accustomed to human masses, must
have been astonished. But it was only in the earliest times
that it produced its full effect, when the people was more
a people than it is now. For, properly speaking, such an
amphitheatre is constructed to give the people an imposing
view of itself, — to cajole itself.
When any thing worth seeing occurs on the level ground,
and any one runs to the spot, the hindermost try by every
means to raise themselves above the foremost : they get
upon benches, roll casks, bring up vehicles, lay planks in
every direction, occupy the neighboring heights, and a crater
is formed in no time.
If the spectacle occur frequently on the same spot, light
scaffoldings are built for those who are able to pay, and the
rest of the multitude must get on as it can. Here the prob-
lem of the architect is to satisfy this general want. By
means of his art he prepares such a crater, making it as
simple as possible, that the people itself may constitute the
decoration. When the populace saw itself so assembled, it
must have been astonished at the sight ; for whereas it was
only accustomed to see itself running about in confusion, or
to find itself crowded together without particular rule or
order, so must this many-headed, many-minded, wandering
animal now see itself combined into a noble body, made into
a definite unity, bound and secured into a mass, and ani-
mated as one form by one mind. The simplicity of the
oval is most pleasingly obvious to every eye, and every head
serves as a measure to show the vastness of the whole.
Now we see it empty, we have no standard, and do not
know whether it is large or small.
The Veronese deserve commendation for the high preser-
vation in which this edifice is kept. It is built of a reddish
Goethe— D Vol 4
100 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
marble, which has been affected by the atmosphere ; and
hence the steps, which have been eaten, are continually
restored, and look almost all new. An inscription makes
mention of one Hieronymus Maurigenus, and of the incredi-
ble industry which he has expended on this monument. Of
the outer wall only a piece remains, and I doubt whether it
was ever quite finished. The lower arches, which adjoin
the large square called " II Bra," are let out to workmen;
and the re-animation of these arcades produces a cheerful
appearance.
Verona, Sept. 16.
The most beautiful gate, which, however, always remains
closed, is called "Porta stupa," or "del Pallio." As a
gate, aud considering the great distance from which it is
first seen, it is not well conceived ; and it is not till we come
near it, that we recognize the beauty of the structure.
All sorts of reasons are given to account for its being
closed. I have, however, a conjecture of my own. It was
manifestly the intention of the artist to cause a new Corso
to be laid out from this gate ; for the situation, or the pres-
ent street, is completely wrong. On the left side there is
nothing but barracks ; and the line at right angles from the
middle of the gate leads to a convent of nuns, which must
certainly have come down. This was presently perceived ;
and, besides, the rich and higher classes might not have
liked to settle in the remote quarter. The artist, perhaps,
died ; and therefore the door was closed, and so an end was
put to the affair.
Verona, Sept. 16.
The portico of the theatre, consisting of six large Ionic
columns, looks handsome enough. So much the more puny
is the appearance of the Marchese di Mallei's bust, which
as large as life, and in a great wig, stands over the door,
and in front of a painted niche which is supported by two
Corinthian columns. The position is honorable ; but, to be in
some degree proportionate to the magnitude and solidity of
the columns, the bust should have been colossal. But now,
placed as it is on a corbel, it has a mean appearance, and is
by no means in harmony with the whole.
The gallery which encloses the fore-court is also small,
and the channelled Doric dwarfs have a mean appearance by
the side of the smooth Ionic giants. But we pardon this
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 101
discrepancy on account of the fine institution which has
been founded among the columns. Here is kept a number of
antiquities, which have mostly been dug up in and about
Verona. Something, they say, has even been found in the
Amphitheatre. There are Etruscan, Greek, and Roman
specimens, down to the latest times, and some even of more
modern date. The bas-reliefs are inserted in the walls, and
provided with the numbers which Maffei gave them when
he described them in his work, "Verona Illustrata."
There are altars, fragments of columns, and other relics of
the sort ; an admirable tripod of white marble, upon which
there are genii occupied with the attributes of the gods.
Raphael has imitated and improved this kind of thing in the
scrolls of the Farnesina.
The wind which blows from the graves of the ancients
comes fragrantly over hills of roses. The tombs give touch-
ing evidences of a genuine feeling, and always bring life
back to us. Here is a man by the side of his wife, who
peeps out of a niche, as if it were a window. Here are
father and mother, with their son between them, eying each
other as naturally as possible. Here a couple are grasping
each other's hands. Here a father, resting on his couch,
seems to be amused by his family. The immediate prox-
imity of these stones was to me highly touching. They
belong to a later school of art, but are simple, natural, and
generally pleasing. Here a man in armor is on his knees, in
expectation of a joyful resurrection. With more or less of
talent, the artist has produced the mere simple presence of
the persons, and has thus given a permanent continuation to
their existence. They do not fold their hands, they do not
look towards heaven ; but they are here below just what they
were and just what they are. They stand together, take
interest in each other, love one another ; and this is charm-
ingly expressed on the stone, though with a certain want of
technical skill. A marble pillar very richly adorned gave
me more new ideas.
Laudable as this institution is, we can plainly perceive
that the noble spirit of preservation, by which it was
founded, is no longer continued. The valuable tripod will
soon be ruined, placed as it is in the open air, and ex-
posed to the weather towards the west. This treasure might
easily be preserved in a wooden case.
The Palace of the Proveditore, which is begun, might
have afforded a fine specimen of architecture, if it had been
102 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
finished. Generally speaking, the nobili build a great deal ;
but, unfortunately, every one builds on the .site of his former
residence, and often, therefore, in narrow lanes. Thus, for
instance, a magnificent facade to a seminary is now building
in an ally of the remotest suburb.
While, with a guide whom I had accidentally picked up,
I passed before the great solemn gate of a singular building,
he asked me good humoredly whether I should not like to
step into the court for a while. It was the Palace of Justice ;
and the court, on account of the height of the building,
looked only like an enormous wall. Here, he told me, all
the criminals and suspicious persons are confined. I looked
around, and saw that round all the stories there were open
passages, fitted with iron balustrades, which passed by
numerous doors. The prisoner, as he stepped out of his
dungeon to be led to trial, stood in the open air, and was
exposed to the gaze of all passers ; and, because there were
several trial-rooms, the chains were rattling, now over this,
now over that passage, in every story. It was a hateful
sight, and I do not deny that the good humor with which I
had despatched my ' ' Birds ' ' might here have come into a
strait.
I walked at sunset upon the margin of the crater-like Am-
phitheatre, and enjoyed the most splendid prospect over the
town and the surrounding country. I was quite alone, and
multitudes of people were passing below me on the hard
stones of the Bra. Men of all ranks, and women of the mid-
dle ranks, were walking. The latter, in their black outer gar-
ments, look, in this bird's-eye view, like so many mummies.
The Zendale and the Veste, which serve this class in
the place of an entire wardrobe, is a costume completely
fitted for a people that does not care much for cleanliness,
and yet always likes to appear in public, — sometimes at
church, sometimes on the promenade. The Veste is a gown
of black taffeta, which is thrown over other gowns. If the
lady has a clean white one beneath, she contrives to lift up
the black one on one side. This is fastened on so as to
cut the waist, and to cover the lappets of a corset, which
may be of any color. The Zendale is a large hood with
long ears. The hood itself is kept high above the head by
a wire frame, while the ears are fastened round the body
like a scarf, so that the ends fall down behind.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 103
Verona, Sept. 16.
When I again left the Arena to-day, I came to a modern
public spectacle, about a thousand paces from the spot.
Four noble Veronese were playing ball against four people
of Vicenza. This pastime is carried on among the Veronese
themselves all the year round, about two hours before night.
On this occasion there was a far larger concourse of people
than usual, on account of the foreign adversaries. The
spectators seem to have amounted to four or five thousand.
I did not see women of any rank.
When, a little while ago, I spoke of the necessities of the
multitude in such a case, I described the natural accidental
amphitheatre as arising just in the manner in which I saw
the people raised one over another on this occasion. Even
at a distance, I could hear the lively clapping of hands
which accompanied every important stroke. The game is
played as follows : two boards, slightly inclined, are placed
at a convenient distance from each other. He who strikes
off the ball stands at the higher end : his right hand is armed
with a broad wooden ring, set with spikes. While another
of his party throws the ball to him, he runs down to meet it,
and thus increases the force of the blow with which he
strikes it. The adversaries try to beat it back ; and thus it
goes backward and forward, till at last it remains on the
ground. The most beautiful attitudes, worthy of being imi-
tated in marble, are thus produced. As there are none but
well-grown, active young people, in a short, close white
dress, the parties are only distinguished by a yellow mark.
Particularly beautiful is the attitude into which the man on
the eminence falls, when he runs down the inclined plane,
and raises his arm to strike the ball : it approaches that of
the Borghesian gladiator.
It seemed strange to me that they carry on this exercise by
an old lime- wall, without the slightest convenience for spec-
tators. Why is it not done in the Amphitheatre, where there
would be such ample room ?
Verona, Sept. 17.
What I have seen of pictures I will but briefly touch upon,
and add some remarks. I do not make this extraordinary
tour for the sake of deceiving myself, but to become ac-
quainted with nryself by means of these objects. I therefore
honestly confess,, that of the painter's art, of his manipula-
tion, I understand but littie. My attention and observation
104 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
can only be directed to the practical part, to the subject, and
the general treatment of it.
St. Georgio is a gallery of good pictures, — -'all altar-pieces,
and all remarkable, if not of equal value. But what subjects
were the hapless artists obliged to paint! And for whom?
Perhaps a shower of manna thirty feet long and twenty feet
high, with the miracle of the loaves as a companion. What
could be made of these subjects ? Hungry men falling on little
grains, and a countless multitude of others, to whom bread
is handed. The artists have racked their invention in order
to get something striking out of such wretched subjects. And
yet, stimulated by the urgency of the case, genius has pro-
duced some beautiful things. An artist who had to paint
St. Ursula with the eleven thousand virgins has got over the
difficulty cleverly enough. The saint stands in the foreground,
as if she had conquered the country. She is very noble, like
an Amazonian virgin, and without any enticing charms : on
the other hand, her troop is shown descending from the
ships, and moving in procession at a diminishing distance.
The Assumption of the Virgin, by Titian, in the dome, has
become much blackened ; and it is a thought worthy of praise,
that, at the moment of her apotheosis, she looks, not towards
heaven, but towards her friends below.
In the Gherardini Gallery I found some very fine things by
Orbitto, and for the first time became acquainted with this
meritorious artist. At a distance we only hear of the first
artists, and then we are often contented with names only ;
but when we draw nearer to this starry sky, and the lumina-
ries of the second and third magnitude also begin to twinkle,
each one coming forward, and occupying his proper place in
the whole constellation, then the world becomes wide, and art
becomes rich. I must here commend the conception of one
of the pictures. Samson has gone to sleep in the lap of
Delilah, and she has softly stretched her hand over him to
reach a pair of scissors, which lies near the lamp on the table.
The execution is admirable. In the Canopa Palace I observed
a Danae.
The Bevilagua Palace contains the most valuable things.
A picture by Tintoretto, which is called a "Paradise," but
which, in fact, represents the coronation of the Virgin Mary
as queen of heaven, in the presence of all the patriarchs,
prophets, apostles, saints, angels, etc., affords an opportunity
for displaying all the riches of the most felicitous genius- To
admire and enjoy all that cave of manipulation, that spirit
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 105
and variety of expression, it is necessary to possess the pic-
ture, and to have it before one all one's life. The painter's
work is carried on ad infinitum. Even the farthest angels'
heads, which are vanishing in the halo, preserve something
of character. The largest figures may be about a foot high ;
Mary, and the Christ who is crowning her, about four inches.
Eve is, however, the finest woman in the picture, — ■ a little
voluptuous, as from time immemorial.
A couple of portraits by Paul Veronese have only increased
my veneration for that artist. The collection of antiquities
is very fine. There is a son of Niobe extended in death, which
is highly valuable ; and the busts, including an Augustus with
the civic crown, a Caligula, and others, are mostly of great
interest, notwithstanding the restoration of the noses.
It is in my nature to admire, willingly and joyfully, all
that is great and beautiful ; and the cultivation of this talent
day after day, hour after hour, by the inspection of such beau-
tiful objects, produces the happiest feelings.
In a land where we enjoy the days, but take especial de-
light in the evenings, the time of nightfall is highly important :
for now work ceases ; those who have gone out walking turn
back ; the father wishes to have his daughter home again ;
the day has an end. What the day is, we Cimmerians hardly
know. In our eternal mist and fog, it is the same thing to
us whether it be day or night ; for how much time can we
really pass and enjoy in the open air? Now, when night sets
in, the day, which consisted of a morning and an evening, is
decidedly past ; four and twenty hours are gone ; the bells
ring, the rosary is taken in hand, and the maid, entering the
chamber with the lighted lamp, says, " Felicissima notte"
This epoch varies with every season ; and a man who lives
here in actual life cannot go wrong, because all the enjoy-
ments of his existence are regulated, not by the nominal
hour, but by the time of day. If the people were forced to
use a German clock, they would be perplexed, for their own
is intimately connected with their nature. About an hour
and a half, or an hour, before nightfall, the nobility begin to
ride out. They proceed to the Piazza della Bra, along the
long, broad street, to the Porta Nuova, out at the gate, and
along the city, and, when night sets in, they all return home.
Sometimes they go to the churches to say their Ave Maria
della sera ; sometimes they keep on the Bra, where the cava-
liers step up to the coaches, and converse for a while with the
Jadies. The foot-passengers remain till a late hour of night \
106 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
but I have never stopped till the last. To-day just enough
rain had fallen to lay the dust, and the spectacle was most
cheerful and animated.
That I may accommodate nvyself the better to the custom
of the country, I have devised a plan for mastering more easily
the Italian method of reckoning the hours. The accompany-
ing diagram may give an idea of it. The inner circle denotes
our four and twenty hours, from midnight to midnight, divided
into twice twelve, as we reckon and as our clocks indicate.
The middle circle shows how the clocks strike at the present
season ; namely, as much as twelve twice in the twenty-four
hours, but in such a way that it strikes one when it strikes
eight with us, and so on till the number twelve is complete.
At eight o'clock in the morning, according to our clock, it
again strikes one, and so on. Finally, the outer circle shows
how the four and twenty hours are reckoned in actual life.
For example, I hear seven o'clock striking in the night, and
know that midnight is at five o'clock : I therefore deduct the
latter number from the former, and thus have two hours after
midnight. If I hear seven o'clock strike in the daytime, and
know that noon is at five, I proceed in the same way, and
thus have two in the afternoon. But, if I wish to express the
hour according to the fashion of this country, I must know
that noon is seventeen o'clock : I add the two, and get nine-
teen o'clock. When this method is heard and thought of for
the first time, it seems extremely confused, and difficult to
manage ; but we soon grow accustomed to it, and find the
occupation amusing. The people themselves take delight in
this perpetual calculation, just as children are pleased with
easily surmounted difficulties. Indeed, they always have their
fingers in the air, make any calculation in their heads, and
like to occupy themselves with figures. Besides, to the
inhabitant of the country, the matter is so much the easier,
as he really does not trouble himself about noon and mid-
night, and does not, like the foreign resident, compare two
clocks with each other. They only count from the evening
the hours as they strike, and in the daytime they add the
number to the varying number of noon, with which they are
acquainted. The rest is explained by the remarks appended
to the diagram : —
LETTERS FROM ITALY.
107
COMPARATIVE TABLE OF GERMAN AND ITALIAN TIME,
WITH THE HOURS OF THE ITALIAN SUN-DIAL. FOR THE LATTER
HALF OF SEPTEMBER.
MID-DAY.
MIDNIGHT.
THE NIGHT
LENGTHENS
HALE
AN HOUB
THE DAY LENGTHENS
BALE
AN HOUR
EVERY FOBTNIGHT.
EVERY FORTNIGHT.
Time of
Mid-
Time of
Mid-
night as
night
night as
night
Month.
Day.
shown
by Ger-
conse-
quently
Month.
Day.
shown
by Ger-
conse-
quently
man
falls
man
falls
clocks.
about
clocks.
about
August . . .
1
8}
3|
February . .
1
°2
6|
15
8
4
«
15
6
6
September
1
7!
41
March
1
6|
R3.
«
15
7
5
a
15
7
5
October .
1
H
6*
April .
1
n
H
«
15
6
6
«
15
8
4
November
1
5*
6|
May .
1
8*
3
15
5
7
t(
15
9
3
From this date the time remains con-
From this date the tir
ne remains con-
stant, and it is : —
stant, and it is : —
Night.
Midnight.
Night.
Midnight.
December . . . )
January . . . . \
5
7
9
3
July \
i08 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
Verona, Sept. 17.
The people here jostle one another actively enough. The
narrow streets, where shops and workmen's stalls are thickly
crowded together, have a particularly cheerful look. There
is no such thing as a door in front of the shop or workroom :
the whole breadth of the house is open, and one may see all
that passes in the interior. Halfway out into the path the
tailors are sewing, and the cobblers are pulling and rapping :
indeed, the work-stalls make a part of the street. In the
evening, when the lights are burning, the appearance is most
lively.
The squares are very full on market-days. There are fruit
and vegetables without number, and garlic and onions to the
heart's desire. Then, again, throughout the day there is a
ceaseless screaming, bantering, singing, squalling, huzzaing,
and laughing. The mildness of the air and the cheapness
of the food make subsistence easy. Every thing possible is
done in the open air.
At night, singing and all sorts of noises begin. The ballad
of " Marlbrook " is heard in every street; then comes a
dulcimer, then a violin. They try to imitate all the birds
with a pipe. The strangest sounds are heard on every side.
A mild climate can give this exquisite enjoyment of mere
existence, even to poverty ; and the very shadow of the people
seems venerable.
The want of cleanliness and convenience which so much
strikes us in the houses, arises from the following cause :
the inhabitants are always out of doors, and in their light-
heartedness think of nothing. With the people all goes
right. Even the middle-class man just lives on from day to
day ; while the rich and genteel shut themselves up in their
dwellings, which are not so habitable as in the north. So-
ciety is found in the open streets. Fore-courts and colon-
nades are all soiled with filth, for things are done in the most
natural manner. The people always feel their way before
them. The rich man may be rich, and build his palaces,
and the nobile may rule ; but, if he makes a colonnade or a
fore-court, the people will make use of it for their own
occasions, and have no more urgent wish than to get rid as
soon as possible of that which they have taken as often as
possible. If a person cannot bear this, he must not play
the great gentleman ; that is to say, he must act as if a part
of his dwelling belonged to the public. He may shut his
door, and all will be right. But in open buildings the people
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 109
are not to be debarred of their privileges ; and this, through-
out Italy, is a nuisance to the foreigner.
To-day I remarked in several streets of the town the
customs and manners of the middle classes especially, who
appear very numerous and busy. They swing their arms as
they walk. Persons of a high rank, who on certain occasions
wear a sword, swing only one arm, being accustomed to
hold the left arm still.
Although the people are careless enough with respect to
their own wants and occupations, they have a keen eye for
every thing foreign. Thus in the very first days I observed
that every one took notice of my boots : because here they
are too expensive an article of dress to wear, even in winter.
Now that I wear shoes and stockings, nobody looks at me.
Particularly I noticed this morning, when all were running
about with flowers, vegetables, garlic, and other market-stuff,
that a twig of cypress which I carried in my hand did not
escape their attention. Some green cones hung upon it, and
I held in the same hand some bloomiDg caper- twigs. Every-
body, large and small, watched me closely, and seemed to
entertain some whimsical thought.
I brought these twigs from the Giusti Garden, which is
finely situated, a*id in which there are monstrous cypresses,
all pointed up like spikes into the air. The taxus, which in
northern gardening we find cut to a sharp point, is probably
an imitation of this splendid natural product. A tree the
branches of which, the oldest as well as the youngest, are
striving to reach heaven ; a tree which will last its three hun-
dred years, — is well worthy of veneration. Judging from
the time when this garden was laid out, these trees have
already attained that advanced age.
Vicenza, Sept. 19.
The way from Verona hither is very pleasant. We go
north-eastward along the mountains, always keeping to the
left the foremost mountains, which consist of sand, lime,
clay, and marl : the hills which they form are dotted with
villages, castles, and houses. To the right extends the
broad plain along which the road goes. The straight broad
path, which is in good preservation, goes through a fertile
field. We look into deep avenues of trees, up which the vines
are trained to a considerable height, and then drop down,
like pendent branches. Here we can get an admirable idea
of festoons. The grapes are ripe, and are heavy on the
110 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
tendrils, which hang down long and trembling. The road is
filled with people of every class and occupation ; and I was
particularly pleased by some carts with low, solid wheels,
which, with teams of fine oxen, carry the large vats in which
the grapes from the vineyards are put and pressed. The
drivers rode in them when they were empty, and the whole
was like a triumphal procession of Bacchanals. Between
the ranks of vines the ground is used for all sorts of grain,
especially Indian corn and millet (Sorgel).
As one goes toward Vicenza, the hills again rise from
north to south, and enclose the plain. They are, it is said,
volcanic. Vicenza lies at their foot, or, if you will, in a
bosom which they form.
Vicenza, Sept. 19.
Though I have been here only a few hours, I have already
run through the town, and seen the Olympian Theatre and
the buildings of Palladio. A very pretty little book is pub-
lished here, for the convenience of foreigners, with copper-
plates and some letter- press, that shows knowledge of art.
When once one stands in the presence of these works, one
immediately perceives their great value ; for they are cal-
culated to fill the eye with their actual greatness and mas-
siveness, and to satisfy the mind by the beautiful harmony
of their dimensions, not only in abstract sketches, but with
all the prominences and distances of perspective. Therefore
I say of Palladio, he was a man really and intrinsically great,
whose greatness was outwardly manifested. The chief dif-
ficulty with which this man, like all modern architects, had to
struggle', was the suitable application of the orders of columns
to buildings for domestic or public use ; for there is always
a contradiction in the combination of columns and walls.
But with what success he has worked them up together !
What an imposing effect the aspect of his edifices has ! at
the sight of them one almost forgets that he is attempting
to reconcile us to a violation of the rules of his art. There
is, indeed, something divine about his designs, which may
be exactly compared to the creations of the great poet, who
out of truth and falsehood elaborates something between
both, and charms us with its borrowed existence.
The Olympic Theatre is a theatre of the ancients, which is
realized on a small scale, and is indescribably beautiful. How-
ever, compared with our theatres, it reminds me of a genteel,
rich, well-bred child, contrasted with a shrewd man of the
LETTERS FROM ITALY. Ill
world, who, though he is neither so rich, nor so genteel and
well-bred, knows better how to employ his resources.
If we contemplate on the spot the noble buildings which
Palladio has erected, and see how they are disfigured by the
mean, filthy necessities of the people, how the plans of most
of them exceeded the means of those who undertook them,
and how little these precious monuments of one lofty mind
are adapted to all else around, the thought occurs, that it is
just the same with every thing else ; for we receive but little
thanks from men, when we would elevate their inner aspira-
tions, give them a great idea of themselves, and make them
feel the grandeur of a really noble existence. But when one
cajoles them, tells them tales, and, helping them on from day
to day, makes them worse, then one is just the man they
like ; and hence it is that modern times take delight in so
many absurdities. I do not say this to lower my friends : I
only say that they are so, and that people must not be aston*
ished to find every thing just as it is.
How the Basilica of Palladio looks by the side of an old
castellated kind of a building, dotted all over with windows
of different sizes (whose removal, tower and all, the artist
evidently contemplated) , it is impossible to describe : and
besides, I must now, by a strange effort, compress my own
feelings ; for I, too, alas ! find here side by side both what I
seek and what I flee from.
Sept. 20.
Yesterday we had the opera, which lasted till midnight ;
and I was glad to get some rest. The " Three Sultanesses "
and the ' ' Rape of the Seraglio ' ' have afforded several tat-
ters, out of which the piece has been patched up, with very
little skill. The music is agreeable to the ear, but is prob-
ably by an amateur ; for not a single thought struck me as
being new. The ballets, on the other hand, were charming.
The principal pair of dancers executed an Allemande to per-
fection.
The theatre is new, pleasant, beautiful, modestly magnifi-
cent, uniform throughout, just as it ought to be in a provincial
town. Every box has hangings of the same color ; and the
one belonging to the Capitan Grande is only distinguished
from the rest by the fact that the hangings are somewhat
longer.
The prima donna, who is a great favorite of the whole
people, is tremendously applauded on her entrance ; and the
112 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
"■gods" are quite obstreperous with their delight when she
does any thing remarkably well, which very often happens.
Her manners are natural : she has a pretty figure, a fine voice,
a pleasing countenance, and, above all, a really modest
demeanor, while there might be more grace in the arms.
However, I am not what I was. I feel that I am spoiled —
I am spoiled for a " god."
Sept. 21.
To-day I visited Dr. Tura. Five years ago he passion-
ately devoted himself to the study of plants, formed an herba-
rium of the Italian flora, and laid out a botanical garden,
under the superintendence of the former bishop. However,
all that has come to an end. Medical practice drove away
natural history ; the herbarium is eaten by worms ; the bishop
is dead ; and the botanic garden is again rationally planted
with cabbages and garlic.
Dr. Tura is a very refined and good man. He told me his
history with frankness, purity of mind, and modesty, and
altogether spoke in a very definite and affable manner. At
the same time he did not like to open his cabinets, which,
perhaps, were in no very presentable condition. Our conver-
sation soon came to a stand-still.
Sept. 21. Evening.
I called upon the old architect Scamozzi, who has pub-
lished an edition of " Palladio's Buildings," and is a diligent
artist, passionately devoted to his art. He gave me some
directions, being delighted with my sympathy. Among Pal-
ladio's buildings, there is one for which I always had an
especial predilection, and which is said to have been his own
residence. When it is seen close, there is far more in it than
appears in a picture. I should have liked to draw it, and
to illuminate it with colors, to show the material and the age.
It must not, however, be imagined that the architect has built
himself *a palace. The house is the most modest in the world,
with only two windows, separated from each other by a broad
space which would admit a third. If it were imitated in a
picture which should exhibit the neighboring houses at the
same time, the spectator would be pleased to observe how it
has been let in between them. Canaletto was the man who
should have painted it.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 113
Sept. 22.
To-day I visited the splendid building which stands on a
pleasant elevation about half a league from the town, and is
called the u Rotonda." It is a quadrangular building, en-
closing a circular hall, lighted from the top. On all the four
sides you ascend a broad flight of steps, and always come to
a vestibule, which is formed of six Corinthian columns. Pro-
bably the luxury of architecture was never carried to so high
a point. The space occupied by the steps and vestibules is
much larger than that occupied by the house itself, for every
one of the sides is as grand and pleasing as the front of a
temple. With respect to the inside, it may be called habit-
able, but not comfortable. The hall is of the finest propor-
tions, and so are the chambers ; but they would hardly suffice
for the actual wants of any genteel family in a summer resi-
dence. On the other hand, it presents a most beautiful ap-
pearance as it is viewed on every side throughout the district.
The variety which is produced by the principal mass, as,
together with the projecting columns, it is gradually brought
before the eyes of the spectator who walks round it, is very
great ; and the purpose of the owner, who wished to leave a
large trust-estate and at the same time a visible monument
of his wealth, is completely obtained. And, while the build-
ing appears in all its magnificence when viewed from any
spot in the district, it also forms the point of view for a most
agreeable prospect. You may see the Bachiglione flowing
along, and taking vessels down from Verona to the Brenta,
while you overlook the extensive possessions which the Mar-
quis Capra wished to preserve undivided in his family. The
inscriptions on the four gable-ends, which together constitute
one whole, are worthy to be noted down : —
Marcus Capra Gabrielis films
Qui sedes has
Arctissimo primogeniture gradui subjecit
Una cum omnibus
Censibus agris vallibus et collibus
Citra viam magnam
Memorise perpetuce mandans haec
Dum sustinet ac abstinet.
The conclusion, in particular, is strange enough. A man
who has at command so much wealth and such a capacious
will still feels that he must bear and forbear. This can be
learned at a less expense.
/
114 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
Sept. 22.
This evening I was at a meeting held by the academy of
the " Olympians." It is mere play- work, but good in its
way, and seems to keep up a little spice and life among the
people. There is the great hall byPalladio's Theatre, hand-
somely lighted up. The Capitan and a portion of the nobility
are present, besides a public composed of educated persons,
and several of the clergy ; the whole assembly amounting to
about five hundred.
The question proposed by the president for to-day's sitting
was this, " Which has been most serviceable to the fine arts, —
invention, or imitation ? " This was a happy notion ; for, if the
alternatives which are involved in the question are kept duly
apart, one may go on debating for centuries. The academicians
have gallantly availed themselves of the occasion, and have
produced all sorts of things in prose and verse, some very good.
Then there is the liveliest public. The audience cry Bravo,
and clap their hands, and laugh. What a thing it is to stand
thus before one's nation, and amuse them in person ! We
must set down our best productions in black and white.
Every one squats down with them in a corner, and scribbles
at them as he can.
It may be imagined, that, even on this occasion, Palladio
would be continually appealed to, whether the discourse was
in favor of invention or imitation. At the end, which is
always the right place for a joke, one of the speakers hit on
a happy thought, and said that the others had already taken
Palladio away from him ; so that he, for his part, would praise
Franceschini, the great silk-manufacturer. He then began
to show the advantages which this enterprising man, and,
through him, the city of Vicenza, had derived from imitating
the Lyonnese and Florentine stuffs, and thence came to the
conclusion that imitation stands far above invention. This
was done with so much humor, that uninterrupted laughter
was excited. Generally those who spoke in favor of imita-
tion obtained the most applause ; for they said nothing but
what was adapted to the thoughts and capacities of the mul-
titude. Once the public, by a violent clapping of hands,
gave its hearty approval to a most clumsy sophism, when it
had not felt many good, nay, excellent things that had
been said in honor of invention. I am very glad I have wit-
nessed this sceue ; for it is highly gratifying to see Palladio,
after the lapse of so long a time, still honored by his fellow-
citizens as their polar star and model.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 115
Sept. 22.
This morning I was at Tiene, which lies north, towards the
mountains, where a new building has been erected after an
old plan, of which there may be a little to say. Thus do
they here honor every thing that belongs to the good period,
and have sense enough to raise a new building on a plan
which they have inherited. The clidteau is excellently sit-
uated in a large plain, having behind it the calcareous Alps,
without any mountains intervening. A stream of living
water flows along the level causeway from each side of the
building, towards those who approach it, and waters the
broad fields of rice through which one passes.
I have now seen but two Italian cities, and for the first
time, and have spoken with but few persons ; and yet I know
my Italians pretty well. They are like courtiers, who con-
sider themselves the first people in the world, and who, on
the strength of certain advantages, which cannot be denied
them, can indulge with impunity in so comfortable a thought.
The Italians appear to me a right good people. Only one
must see the children and the common people as I see them
now, and can see them, while I am always open to them,
nay, always lay myself open to them. What figures and
faces there are !
It is especially to be commended in the Vicentians, that
with them one enjoys the privileges of a large city. What-
ever a person does, they do not stare at him ; but, if he ad-
dresses them, they are conversable and pleasant, especially
the women, who please me much. I do not mean to find
fault with the Veronese women : they are well made, and
have decided profiles ; but they are, for the most part, pale,
and the Zenclal is to their disadvantage, because one looks
for something charming under the beautiful costume. I have
found here some very pretty creatures, especially some with
black locks, who inspire me with peculiar interest. There are
also fairer beauties, who, however, do not please me so well.
Padua, Sept. 26.
Evening.
In four hours I have this day come here from Vicenza,
crammed, luggage and all, into a little one-seated chaise
called a Secliola. Generally the journey is performed with
ease in three hours and a half ; but, as I wished to pass
the delightful daytime in the open air, I was glad that the
Vetturino fell short of his duty. The route goes constantly
116 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
southwards, over the most fertile plains, and between hedges
and trees, without further prospect, until at last the beautiful
mountains, extending from the east towards the south, are
seen on the right hand. The abundance of the festoons of
plants and fruit, which hang over walls and hedges, and
down the trees, is indescribable. The roofs are loaded with
gourds, and the strangest sort of cucumbers are hanging
from poles and trellises.
From the observatory I could take the clearest survey pos-
sible of the fine situation of the town. Towards the north
are the Tyrolese mountains, covered with snow, and half
hidden by clouds, and joined by the Vicentian mountains on
the north-west. Then towards the west are the nearer moun-
tains of Este, the shapes and recesses of which are plainly to
be seen. Towards the south-east is a verdant sea of plants,
without a trace of elevation, tree after tree, bush after bush,
plantation after plantation, while houses, villas, and churches,
dazzling with whiteness, peer out from among the green.
Against the horizon I plainly saw the tower of St. Mark's at
Venice, with other smaller towers.
Padua, Sept. 17.
I have at last obtained the works of Palladio, not indeed
the original edition, which I saw at Vicenza, where the cuts
are in wood, but a facsimile in copper, published at the ex-
pense of an excellent man, named Smith, who was formerly
the English consul at Venice. We must give the English
this credit, that they have long known how to prize what is
good, and have a magnificent way of diffusing it.
On the occasion of this purchase I entered a book-shop,
which in Italy presents quite a peculiar appearance. Around
it are arranged the books, all stitched ; and during the whole
day good society may be found in the shop, which is a lounge
for all the secular clergy, nobility, and artists who are in any
way connected with literature. One asks for a book, opens
it, and amuses himself as one can. Thus I found a knot of
half a dozen, all of whom became attentive to me when I
asked for the works of Palladio. While the master of the
shop looked for the book, they commended it, and gave me
information respecting the original and the copy : they were
well acquainted with the work itself and with the merits of
the author. Taking me for an architect, they praised me for
having recourse to this master in preference to all the rest ;
saying that he was of more practical utility than Vitruvius
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 117
himself, since he had thoroughly studied the ancients and
antiquity, and had sought to adapt the latter to the wants of
our own times. I conversed for a long time with these
friendly men , learned something about the remarkable objects
in the city, and took my leave.
Where men have built churches to saints, a place may
sometimes be found in them where monirments to intellectual
men may be set up. The bust of Cardinal Bembo stands
between Ionic columns. It is a handsome face, strongly
drawn in, if I may use the expression, and with a copious
beard. The inscription runs thus: "Petri Bembi Card,
imaginem Hier. Guerinus Ismeni f. in publico ponendam
curavit ut cujus ingenii monumenta aeterna sint, ejus corporis
quoque memoria ne a posteritate desideretur. "
With all its dignity, the University gave me the horrors as
a building. I am glad that I had nothing to learn in it.
One cannot imagine such a narrow compass for a school,
even though, as the student of a German university, one
may have suffered a great deal on the benches of the audito-
rium. The anatomical theatre is a perfect model Of the art
of pressing students together. The audience are piled one
above another in a tall, pointed funnel. They look down
upon the narrow space where the table stands ; and, as no
daylight falls upon it, the professor must demonstrate -by
lamplight. The botanic garden is much more pretty and
cheerful. Several plants can remain in the ground during
the winter, if they are set near the walls, or at no great dis-
tance from them. At the end of October the whole is built
over, and the process of heating is carried on for the few
remaining months. It is pleasant and instructive to walk
through a vegetation that is strange to us. With ordinary
plants, as well as with other objects that have been long
familiar to us, we at last do not think at all ; and what is
looking without thinking ? Amidst this variety which comes
upon me quite new, the idea that all forms of plants may,
perhaps, be developed from a single form, becomes more
lively than ever. On this principle alonje it would be possi-
ble to define orders and classes, which, it seems to me, has
hitherto been done in a very arbitrary manner. At this
point I stand fast in my botanical philosophy, and I do not
see how I am to extricate myself. The depth and breadth
of this business seem to me quite equal.
The great square, called Prato della Valle, is a very wide
space, where the chief fair is held in June. The wooden
118 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
booths in the middle of it do not produce the most favorable
appearance ; but the inhabitants assure me that there will soon
be sijiera of stone here, like that at Verona. One has hopes
of this already, from the manner in which the Prato is sur-
rounded, and which affords a very beautiful and imposing
view.
A huge oval is surrounded with statues, all representing
celebrated men who have taught or studied at the Univer-
sity. Any native or foreigner is allowed to erect a statue
of a certain size to any countryman or kinsman, as soon as
the merit of the person and his academical residence at Padua
are proved.
A moat filled with water goes round the oval. On the
four bridges which lead up to it stand colossal figures of
popes and doges. The other statues, which are smaller, have
been set up by corporations, private individuals, or foreign-
ers. The king of Sweden caused a figure of Gustavus
Adolphus to be erected, because, it is said, he once heard a
lecture in Padua. The Archduke Leopold revived the mem-
ory of Petrarch and Galileo. The statues are in a good,
modern style, a few of them rather affected, some very natu-
ral, and all in the costume of their rank and dignity. The
inscriptions deserve commendation. There is nothing in
them absurd or paltry.
At any university this would have been a happy thought ;
and here it is particularly so, because it is very delightful
to see a whole line of departed worthies thus called back
again. It will, perhaps, form a very beautiful Prato, when
the wooden Fiera will have been removed, and one built of
stone, according to the plan they are said to have made.
In the consistory of a fraternity dedicated to St. Anthony,
there are some pictures of an early date, which remind one of
the old German paintings, and also some b}^ Titian, in which
may be remarked the great progress which no one has made
on the other side of the Alps. Immediately afterwards I
saw works by some of the most modern painters. These
artists, as they could not hope to succeed in the lofty and
the serious, have been very happy in hitting the humorous.
The decollation of John by Piazetta is, in this sense, a capi-
tal picture, if one can once allow the master's manner. John
is kneeling, with his hands before him, and his right knee on
a stone, looking towards heaven. One of the soldiers who
is binding him is bending round on one side, and looking
into his face, as if he were wondering at his patient resigna-
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 119
tion. Higher up stands another, who is to deal the fatal
blow. He does not, however, hold the sword, but makes a
motion with his hands, like one who is practising the stroke
beforehand. A third is drawing the sword out of the scab-
bard. The thought is happy, if not grand ; and the compo-
sition is striking, and produces the best effect.
In the Church of the Eremitani I have seen pictures by
Mantegna, one of the older painters, at which I am aston-
ished. What a sharp, strict actuality is exhibited in these
pictures! It is from this actuality, thoroughly true, — not
apparent merely, and falsely effective, and appealing solely
to the imagination, — but solid, pure, bright, elaborated, con-
scientious, delicate, and circumscribed ; an actuality which
had about it something severe, credulous, and laborious, —
it is from this, I say, that the later painters proceeded (as I
remarked in the pictures by Titian) , in order that by the live-
liness of their own genius, the energy of their nature, illu-
mined at the same time by the mind of the predecessors, and
exalted by their force, they might rise higher and higher,
and, elevated above the earth, produce forms that were hea-
venly indeed, but still true. Thus was art developed after
the barbarous period.
The hall of audience in the town-house, properly desig-
nated by the augmentative Salone is such a huge enclos-
ure, that one cannot conceive it, much less recall it to one's
immediate memory. It is three hundred feet long, one
hundred feet broad, and one hundred feet high, measured up
to the roof, which covers it quite in. So accustomed are
these people to live in the open air, that the architects look
out for a market-place to overarch. And there is* no ques-
tion that this huge vaulted space produces quite a peculiar
effect. It is an enclosed infinity, which has more analogy to
man's habits and feelings than the starry heavens. The
latter takes us out of ourselves ; the former insensibly
brings us back to ourselves.
For the same reason, I also like to stay in the Church of
St. Justina. This church, which is eighty-five feet long, and
high and broad in proportion, is built in a grand and simple
style. This evening I seated myself in a corner, and
indulged in quiet contemplation. Then I felt truly alone ;
for no one in the world, even if he had thought of me for
the moment, would have looked for me here.
Now every thing ought to be packed up again ; for to-mor-
row morning I set off by water, upon the Brenta. It rained
120 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
to-day ; but now it has cleared, and I hope I shall he able
to see the lagunes and the Bride of the \Sea by beautiful
daylight, and to greet my friends from her bosom.
VENICE.
On my page in the Book of Fate, there was written that on
the evening of the 28th of September, by five o'clock, German
time, I should see Venice for the first time, as I passed from
the Brenta into the lagunes, and that soon afterwards, I should
actually enter and visit this strange island-city, this heaven-
like republic. So now, Heaven be praised ! Venice is no
longer to me a bare and a hollow name, which has so long
tormented me, — me, the mental enemy of mere verbal sounds.
As the first of the gondoliers came up to the ship (they
come in order to convey more quickly to Venice those pas-
sengers who are in a hurry) , I recollected an old plaything,
of which, perhaps, I had not thought for twentj 7 years. My
father had a beautiful model of a gondola, which he had
brought with him [from Italy'] . He set a great value upon
it, and it was considered a great treat when I was allowed to
play with it. The first beaks of tinned iron-plate, the black
gondola-gratings, all greeted me like old acquaintances ; and
I experienced again dear emotions of my childhood which
had been long unknown.
I am well lodged at the sign of the Queen of England, not
far from the Square of St. Mark, which is, indeed, the chief
advantage of the spot. My windows^ look upon a narrow
canal between lofty houses : a bridge of one arch is immedi-
ately below me, and directly opposite is a narrow, bustling
alley. Thus am I lodged ; and here I shall remain until I
have made up my packet for Germany, and until I am
satiated with the sight of the city. I can now really enjoy
the solitude for which I have longed so ardently ; for no-
where does a man feel more solitary than in a crowd, where,
unknown to every one, he must push his way. Perhaps in
Venice there is only one person who knows me, and he will
not come in contact with me all at once.
Venice, Sept. 28, 1786.
A few words on my journey hither from Padua. The pas-
sage on the Brenta, .in the public vessel, and in good com-
pany, is highly agreeable. The banks are ornamented with
gardens and villas ; little hamlets come down to the water's
edge ; and the animated high road may be seen here and
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 121
there. As the descent of the river is by means of locks,
there is often a little pause, which may be employed in look-
ing about the country, and in tasting the fruits, which are
offered in great abundance. You then enter your vessel
again, and move on through a world which is itself in mo-
tion, and full of life and fertility.
To so many changing forms and images a phenomenon was
added, which, although derived from Germany, was quite
in its place here, — I mean two pilgrims, the first whom I
have seen closely. They have a right to travel gratis in this
public conveyance ; but, because the rest of the passengers
dislike coming in contact with them, they do not sit in the
covered part, but in the after- part, beside the steersman.
They were stared at as a phenomenon, even at the present
day ; and as, in former times, many vagabonds had made
use of this cloak, they were but lightly esteemed. When I
learned that they were Germans, and could speak no lan-
guage but their own, I joined them, and found that they
came from the Paderborn territory. Both of them were
men of more than fifty years of age, and of a dark but
good-humored physiognomy. They had first visited the sep-
ulchre of the Three Kings at Cologne, had then travelled
through Germany, and were now together on their way back
to Rome and Upper Italy, whence one intended to set out
for Westphalia, and the other to pay a visit of adoration to
St. James of Compostella.
Their dress was the well-known costume of pilgrims } but
they looked much better with this tucked-up robe than the
pilgrims in long taffeta garments whom we are accustomed
to exhibit at our masquerades. The long cape, the round
hat, the staff and shell (the latter used as the most innocent
drinking- vessel) — all had its signification, and its immediate
use ; while a tin case held their passports. Most remarkable
of all were their small red morocco pocket-books, in which
they kept all the little implements that might be wanted for
any simple necessity. They had taken them out on finding
that something in their garments wanted mending.
The steersman, highly pleased to find an interpreter, made
me ask them several questions ; and thus I learned a great
deal about their views, and especially about their expedition.
They made bitter complaints against their brethren in the
faith, and even against the clergy, both secular and monastic.
Piety, they said, must be a very scarce commodity, since no
one would believe in theirs ; but they were treated as vagrants
122 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
in almost every Catholic country, although they produced the
route, which had been clerically prescribed, and the passports
given by the bishop. On the other hand, they described,
with a great deal of emotion, how well they had been received
by Protestants, and made special mention of a country
clergyman in Swabia, and still more of his wife, who had
prevailed on her somewhat unwilling husband to give them
an abundant repast, of which they stood in great need. Od
taking leave, the good couple had given them a " conven-
tion's dollar," 1 which they found very serviceable as soon
as they entered the Catholic territory. Upon this, one oi
them said, with all the elevation of which he was capable,
" We include this lady every day in our prayers, and imploro
God that he will open her eyes, as he has opened her heart
towards us, and take her, although late, into the bosom of
the Catholic Church. And thus we hope that we shall meet
her in paradise hereafter."
As I sat upon the little gangway which led to the desk,
I explained as much as was necessary and useful to the
steersman, and to some other persons who had crowded
from the cabin into this narrow space. The pilgrims received
some paltry donations, for the Italians are not fond of giv-
ing. Upon this they drew out some little consecrated tick-
ets, on which might be seen the representation of the three
sainted kings, with some prayers addressed to them. The
worthy men entreated me to distribute these tickets among
the little party, and explain how invaluable they were. In
this I succeeded perfectly ; for, when the two men appeared
to be greatly embarrassed as to how they should find the
convent devoted to pilgrims in so large a place as Venice,
the steersman was touched, and promised, that, when they
landed, he would give a boy a trifle to lead them to that dis-
tant spot. He added, in confidence, that they would not be
very heartily welcomed. " The institution," he said, " was
founded to admit I don't know how many pilgrims ; but now
it has become greatly contracted, and the revenues are other-
wise employed."
During this conversation we had gone down the beautiful
Brenta, leaving behind us many a noble garden and many a
noble palace, and casting a rapid glance at the populous and
thriving hamlets which lay along the banks. Several gon-
1 A " convention's dollar " is a dollar coined in consequence of an agreement made
between several of the German states in the year 1750, when the Viennese standard
was adopted. — Trans.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 123
dolas wound about the ship as soon as we had entered the
lagunes. A Lombard, well acquainted with Venice, asked
me to accompany him, that we might enter all the quicker,
and escape the nuisance of the custom-house. Those who
endeavored to hold us back, he contrived to put off with a
little drink-money, and so, in a cheerful sunset, we floated
to the place of our destination.
Sept. 29 (Michaelmas Day).
Evening.
So much has already been told and printed about Venice,
that I shall not be circumstantial in my description, but
shall only say how it struck me. Now, in this instance
again, that which makes the chief impression upon me is
the people, — a great mass, who live an involuntary exist-
ence determined by the changing circumstances of the mo-
ment.
It was for no idle fancy that this race fled to these islands ;
it was no mere whim which impelled those who followed to
combine with them ; necessity taught them to look for se-
curity in a highly disadvantageous situation that afterwards
became most advantageous, enduing them with talent when
the whole northern world was immersed in gloom. Their
increase and their wealth were a necessary consequence.
New dwellings arose close against dwellings ; rocks took the
place of sand and marsh ; houses sought the sky, being forced,
like trees enclosed in a narrow compass, to seek in height
what they were denied in breadth. Being niggards of every
inch of ground, as having been from the very first com-
pressed into a narrow compass, they allowed no more room
for the streets than was just necessary to separate a row of
houses from the one opposite, and to afford the citizens a
narrow passage. Moreover, water supplied the place of
street, square, and promenade. The Venetian was forced
to become a new creature ; and thus Venice can only be com-
pared with itself. The large canal, winding like a serpent,
yields to no street in the world ; and nothing can be put by
the side of the space in front of St. Mark's Square — I mean
that great mirror of water, which is encompassed by Venice
proper, in the form of a crescent. Across the watery sur-
face you see to the left the island of St. Georgio Maggiore ;
to the right, a little farther off, the Guidecca and its canal,
and, still more distant, the Dogana (custom-house) and the
entrance into the Canal Grande, where right before us two
124 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
immense marble temples are glittering in the sunshine. All
the views and prospects have been so often engraved, that
nvy friends will have no difficult} 7 in forming a clear idea of
them.
After dinner I hastened to fix my first impression of the
whole, and without a guide, and merely observing the car-
dinal points, threw myself into the labyrinth of the city,
which, though everywhere intersected by larger or smaller
canals, is again connected by bridges. The narrow and
crowded appearance of the whole cannot be conceived by
one who has not seen it. In most cases one can quite or
nearly measure the breadth of the street by stretching out
one's arms ; and, in the narrowest, a person would scrape his
elbows if he walked with his arms akimbo. Some streets,
indeed, are wider, and here and there is a little square ; but
comparatively all may be called narrow.
I easily found the Grand Canal and the principal bridge,
the Rialto, which consists of a single arch of white marble.
Looking down from this, one has a fine prospect, — the canal
full of ships, which bring every necessary from the Conti-
nent, and put in chiefly at this place to unload ; while be-
tween them is a swarm of gondolas. To-day especially,
being Michaelmas, the view was wonderfully animated. But,
to give some notion of it, I must go back a little.
The two principal parts of Venice, which are divided by
the Grand Canal, are connected by no other bridge than the
Rialto ; but several means of communication are provided,
and the river is crossed in open boats at certain fixed points.
To-day a very pretty effect was produced by the number of
well-dressed ladies, who, their features concealed beneath
large black veils, were being ferried over in large parties at
a time, in order to go to the Church of the Archangel, whose
festival was being solemnized. I left the bridge, and went
to one of the points of landing, to see the parties as they
left the boats. I discovered some very fine forms and faces
among them.
After I had become tired of this amusement, I seated my-
self in a gondola, and quitting the narrow streets, with the
intention of witnessing a spectacle of an opposite description,
went along the northern part of the Grand Canal, into the
lagunes, and then entered the Canal della Guidecca, going as
far as the Square of St. Mark. Now was I also one of the
birds of the Adriatic Sea, as every Venetian feels himself to
be whilst reclining in his gondola. I then thought with due
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 125
honor of my good father, who knew of nothing better than
to talk about the things I now witnessed. And will it not be
so with me likewise? All that surrounds me is dignified, —
a grand, venerable work of combined human energies, a
noble monument, not of a ruler, but of a people. And if
their lagunes are gradually filling up, if unwholesome vapors
are floating over the marsh, if their trade is declining, and
their power has sunk, still the great place and the essential
character will not, for a moment, be less venerable to the
observer. Venice succumbs to time, like every thing that
has a phenomenal existence.
Sept. 30.
Towards evening I again rambled, without a guide, into
the remotest quarters of the city. The bridges here are all
provided with stairs, that gondolas, and even larger vessels,
may pass conveniently under the arches. I sought to find
my way in and out of this labyrinth, without asking any-
body, and, on this occasion also, only guiding myself by the
points of the compass. One disentangles one's self at last ;
but it is a wonderful complication, and my manner of obtain-
ing a sensible impression of it is the best. I have now been
to the remotest points of the city, and observed the conduct,
mode of life, manners, and character of the inhabitants;
and in every quarter they are different. Gracious Heaven !
what a poor, good sort of animal man is, after all !
Most of the smaller houses stand immediately on the canals ;
but there are here and there quays of stone, beautifully
paved^ along which one may take a pleasant walk between
the water, and the churches and palaces. Particularly
cheerful and agreeable is the long stone quay on the north-
ern side, from which the islands are visible, especially Murano,
which is a Venice on a small scale. The intervening lagunes
are all alive with little gondolas.
Sept. 30. Evening.
To-day I have enlarged my notions of Venice by procuring
a plan of it. When I had studied it for some time, I ascended
the Tower of St. Mark, where a unique spectacle is presented
to the eye. It was noon ; and the sun was so bright, that I
could see places near and distant without a glass. The tide
covered the lagunes ; and, when I turned my eyes towards
what is called the " Lido" (this is a narrow strip of earth
which bounds the lagunes), I saw the sea for the first time
126 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
with some sails upon it. In the lagun.es themselves some
galleys and frigates are tying, destined to join the Chevalier
Emo, who is making war on the Algerines, but detained by
unfavorable winds. The mountains of Padua and Vicenza,
and the mountain-chain of Tyrol, beautifully bound the
picture between the north and west.
Oct. 1.
I went out and surveyed the city from many points of view ;
and, as it was Sunday, I was struck by the great want of
cleanliness in the streets, which forced me to make some
reflections. There seems to be a sort of policy in this matter ;
for the people scrape the sweepings into the corners, and
I see large ships going backward and forward, which, at
several points, lie to, and take off the accumulation. They
belong to the people of the surrounding islands, who are in
want of manure. But there is neither consistency nor strict-
ness in this method. And the want of cleanliness in the city
is the more unpardonable, as in it as much provision has
been made for cleaning it as in any Dutch town.
All the streets are paved, even those in the remotest
quarters, with bricks at least, which are laid down lengthwise,
with the edges slightly canted. The middle of the street,
where necessary, is raised a little ; while channels are formed
on each side to receive the water, and convey it into covered
drains. There are other architectural arrangements in the
original well-considered plan, which prove the intention of
the excellent architects to make Venice the most cleanly, as
well as the most singular, of cities. As I walked along, I
could not refrain from sketching a body of regulations, an-
ticipating in thought some superintendent of police, who
might be in earnest. Thus one always has an impulse and a
desire to sweep his neighbor's door.
Oct. 2, 1786.
Before all things, I hastened to the Carita. I had found
in Palladio's works that he had planned a monastic build-
ing here, in which he intended to represent a private resi-
dence of the rich and hospitable ancients. The plan, which
was excellently drawn both as a whole and in detail, gave
me infinite delight ; and I hoped to find a marvel. Alas !
scarcely a tenth part of the edifice is finished. However,
even this part is wortlry of that heavenly genius. There is
a completeness in the plan, and an accuracy in the execu-
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 127
tion, which I had never before witnessed. One ought to pass
whole years in the contemplation of such a work. It seems
to me that I have seen nothing grander, nothing more perfect,
and I fancy that I am not mistaken. Only imagine the
admirable artist, born with an inner feeling for the grand
and the pleasing, now, for the first time, forming himself by
the ancients, with incredible labor, that he may be the means
of reviving them. He finds an opportunity to carry out a
favorite thought in building a convent, which is destined as
a dwelling for so many monks, and a shelter for so many
strangers, in the form of an antique private residence.
The church was already standing, and led to an atrium of
Corinthian columns. Here one feels delighted, and forgets
all priestcraft. At one end the sacristy, at another a chap-
ter-room is found ; while there is the finest winding staircase
in the world, with a wide well, and the stone steps built into
the wall, and so laid that one supports another. One is never
tired of going up and down this staircase ; and we may
judge of its success from the fact that Palladio himself
declares that he has succeeded. The fore-court leads to the
large inner court. Unfortunately, nothing is finished of the
building which was to surround this, except the left side.
Here there are three rows of columns, one over the other.
On the ground-floor are the halls ; on the first story is an arch-
way in front of the cells ; and the upper story consists of a
plain wall with windows. However, this description should
be illustrated by a reference to the sketches. I will just add
a word about the execution.
Only the capitals and bases of the columns, and the key-
stones of the arches, are of hewn stone : all the rest is — I
will not say of brick, but — of burned clay. This descrip-
tion of tile I never saw before. The frieze and cornice are
of the same material, as well as the parts of the arch. All
is but half burnt ; and lastly the building is put together with
a very little lime. As it stands, it looks as if it had been pro-
duced at one cast. If the whole had been finished, and proper-
ly rubbed up and colored, it would have been a charming sight.
However, as so often happens with buildings of a modern
time, the plan was too large. The artist had presupposed,
not only that the existing convent would be pulled down, but
also that the adjoining houses would be bought ; and here
money and inclination probably began to fail. Kind Destiny,
thou who hast formed and perpetuated so much stupidity,
why didst thou not allow this work to be completed I
128 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
Oct. 3.
The Church II Redentore is a large and beautiful work
by Palladio, with a facade eveu more worthy of praise than
that of St. Giorgio. These works, which have often been
engraved, must be placed before you to elucidate what is
said. I will only add a few words.
Palladio was thoroughly imbued with the antique mode of
existence, and felt the narrow, petty spirit of his own age,
like a great man, who will not give way to it, but strives to
mould, as far as possible, all that it leaves him, into accord-
ance with his own noble ideas. From a slight perusal of his
book I conclude that he was displeased with the continued
practice of building Christian churches after the form of the
ancient Basilica, and therefore tried to make his own sacred
edifices approximate to the form of the antique temple.
Hence arose certain discrepancies, which, as it seemed to me,
are happily avoided in II Redentore, but are rather obvious
in the St. Giorgio. Volckmann says something about it, but
does not hit the nail on the head.
The interior of II Redentore is likewise admirable.
Every thing, including even the designs of the altars, is by
Palladio. Unfortunately, the niches, which should have been
filled with statues, are glaring with wooden figures, flat, .
carved, and painted.
Oct. 3.
In honor of St. Francis, St. Peter's capuchins have splen-
didly adorned a side altar. There was nothing to be seen of
stone but the Corinthian capitals : all the rest seemed to
be covered with tasteful but splendid embroidery in the
arabesque style ; and the effect was as pretty as could be
> desired. I particularly admired the broad tendrils and
foliage, embroidered in gold. Going nearer, I discovered
an ingenious deception. All that I had taken for gold was,
in fact, straw pressed flat, and glued upon paper, according
to some beautiful outlines ; while the ground was painted with
lively colors. This is done with such variety and tact, that
the design, which was probably worked in the convent itself
with a material that was worth nothing, must have cost several
thousand dollars, if the material had been genuine. It
might, on occasion, be advantageously imitated.
On one of the quays, and in front of the water, I have
often remarked a little follow telling stories, in the Venetian
dialect, to a greater or less concourse of auditors. Unfor-
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 129
tunately I cannot understand a word ; but I observe that no
one laughs, though the audience, who are composed of the
lowest class, occasionally smile. There is nothing striking
or ridiculous in the man's appearance, but, on the contrary,
something very sedate, with such admirable variety and pre-
cision in his gestures, that they evince art and reflection.
Oct. 3.
With my plan in my hand, I endeavored to find my way
through the strangest labyrinth to the Church of the Mendi-
canti. Here is the conservatorium, which stands in the high-
est repute at the present da} 7 . The ladies performed an
oratorio behind the grating. The church was filled with
hearers, the music was very beautiful, and the voices were
magnificent. An alto sung the part of King Saul, the chief
personage in the poem. Of such a voice I had no notion
whatever. Some passages of the music were excessively
beautiful ; and the words, which were Latin, most laughably
Italianized in some places, were perfectly adapted for singing.
Music here has a wide field.
The performance would have been a source of great
enjoyment, if the accursed Maestro di Capella had not
beaten time, with a roll of music, against 'the grating, as
conspicuously as if he had to do with schoolboys whom he
was instructing. As the girls had repeated the piece often
enough, his noise was quite unnecessary, and destroyed all
impression, as much as he would, who, in order to make a
beautiful statue intelligible to us, should stick scarlet patches
on the joints. The foreign sound destroys all harmony.
Now, this man is a musician, and yet he seems not to be
sensible of this ; or, more properly speaking, he chooses to
let his presence be known by an impropriety, when it would
have been much better to allow his value to be perceived by
the perfection of the execution. I know that this is the
fault of the French ; but I did not give the Italians credit for
it, and yet the public seems accustomed to it. This is not
the first time that that which spoils enjoyment has been
supposed to be indispensable to it.
Oct. 3.
Yesterday evening I went to the opera at the St. Moses
(for the theatres take their name from the church to which
they lie nearest). Nothing very delightful. In the plan,
the music, and the singers, that energy was wanting which
130 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
alone can elevate opera to the highest point. One could not
say of any part that it was bad ; but the two female actresses
alone took pains, not so much to act well, but to set them-
selves off, and to please. That is something, after all.
These two actresses have beautiful figures and good voices,
and are nice, lively, compact little bodies. Among the men,
on the other hand, there is no trace of national power, or
even of pleasure, in working on the imaginations of their
audience. Neither is there among them any voice of decided
brilliancy.
The ballet, which was wretchedly conceived, was con-
demned as a whole ; but some excellent dancers and dan-
seuses, the latter of whom considered it their duty to make
the spectators acquainted with all their personal charms,
were heartily applauded.
Oct. 5.
To-day, however, I saw another comedy, which gave me
more pleasure. In the ducal palace I heard the public dis-
cussion of a law-case. It was important, and, happily for
me, was brought forward in the holidays. One of the advo-
cates had all the qualifications for an exaggerated buffo.
His figure was short and fat, but supple : in profile his fea-
tures were monstrously prominent. He had a stentorian
voice, and a vehemence as if every thing that he said came
in earnest from the very bottom of his heart.' I call this a
comedy ; because, probably, every thing had been already
prepared when the public exhibition took place. The judges
knew what they had to say, and the parties what they had to
expect. However, this plan pleases me infinitely more than
our hobbling law-affairs. I will endeavor to give some
notion of the particulars, and of the neat, natural, and unos-
tentatious manner in which every thing takes place.
In a spacious hall of the palace, the judges were sitting on
one side, in a half -circle. Opposite to them, in a tribune
which could hold several persons, were the advocates for
both parties ; and upon a bench immediately in front of
them, the plaintiff and defendant in person. The advocate
for the plaintiff had descended from the tribune, since there
was to be no controversy at this day's sitting. All the doc-
uments on both sides were to be read, although they were
already printed.
A lean clerk, in a black scanty gown, and with a thick
bundle in his hand, prepared to perform the office of a
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 131
reader. The hall was completely crammed with persons
who came to see and to hear. The point of law itself, and
the persons whom it concerned, must have appeared highly
important to the Venetians.
Trust-estates are so decidedly secured in Venice, that a
property once stamped with this character preserves it for-
ever ; though it may have been divested ages ago by appro-
priations or other circumstances, and though it may have
passed through ever so many hands. When the matter
comes into dispute, the descendants of the first family
recover their right, and the property must be delivered up.
On this occasion the discussion was highly important ; for
the action was brought against the doge himself, or rather
against his wife, who, veiled by her zendal, or little hood, sat
only at a little distance from the plaintiff. She was a lady
of a certain age, of noble stature, and with well-formed fea-
tures, in which there was something of an earnest, not to
say fretful, character. The Venetians make it a great boast
that the princess in her own palace is obliged to appear
before them and the tribunal.
When the clerk began to read, I for the first time clearly
discerned the business of a little man who sat on a low stool
behind a small table opposite the judges, and near the advo-
cates. More especially I learned the use of an hour-glass,
which was placed before him. As long as the clerk reads,
time is not heeded ; but the advocate is only allowed a cer-
tain time, if he speaks in the course of the reading. The
clerk reads, and the hour-glass lies in a horizontal position,
with the little man's hand upon it. As soon as the advo-
cate opens his mouth, the glass is raised, and sinks again
as soon as he is silent. It is the great duty of the advocate
to make remarks on what is read, to introduce cursory
observations, in order to excite and challenge attention.
This puts the little Saturn in a state of the greatest per-
plexity. He is obliged every moment to change the hori-
zontal and vertical position of the glass, and finds himself
in the situation of the evil spirits in the puppet-show, who,
by the quickly varying " Berliche, Berloche" of the mis-
chievous Hanswurst, 1 are puzzled whether they are to come
or to go.
1 An allusion to the comic scene in the puppet-play of Faust, from which Goethe
took the subject of his poem. One of the two magic words (Berliche, Berloche)
summons the devils, the other drives them away; and the Hanswurst (or" buffoon ")»
in a mock-incantation scene, perplexes the fiends by uttering one word after the
other as rapidly as possible. — Trans.
Goethe— E Vol 4.
132 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
Whoever has heard documents read^over in a law-court
can imagine the reading on this occasion, — quick and
monotonous, but plain and articulate enough. The ingenious
advocate contrives to interrupt the tedium by jests ; and the
public shows its delight in his jokes by immoderate laughter.
I must mention one, the most striking of those I could
understand. The reader was just reciting the document by
which one who was considered to have been illegally pos-
sessed of it had disposed of the property in question. The
advocate bade him read more slowly ; and when he plainly
uttered the words, "I give and bequeath," the orator flew
violently at the clerk, and cried, "What will you give,
what will you bequeath, you poor starved-out devil ? Noth-
ing in the world belongs to you. However," he continued,
as he seemed to collect himself, " the illustrious owner was
in the same predicament. He wished to give, he wished
to bequeath, that which belonged to him no more than to
you." A burst of inextinguishable laughter followed this
sally, but the hour-glass at once resumed its horizontal posi-
tion. The reader went mumbling on, and made a saucy face
at the advocate. But all these jokes are prepared before-
hand.
Oct. 4.
I was yesterday at the play in the theatre of St. Luke,
and was highly pleased. I saw a piece acted extempore in
masks, with a great deal of nature, energy, and vigor. The
actors are not, indeed, all equal. The pantaloon is excellent ;
and one of the actresses, who is stout and well-built, speaks
admirably, and deports herself cleverly, though she is no
extraordinary actress. The subject of the piece is extrava-
gant, and resembled that which is treated by us under the
name of Der Verschlag (" the partition ") . With inexhausti-
variety, it amused us for more than three hours. But even
here the people is the base upon which every thing rests. The
spectators are themselves actors, and the multitude is melted
into one whole with the stage. All day long the buyer and
the seller, the beggar, the sailor, the female gossip, the advo-
cate and his opponent, are living and acting in the square
and on the bench, in the gondolas and in the palaces, and
make it their business to talk and to asseverate, to cry and
to offer for sale, to sing and to play, to curse and to brawl.
In the evening they go into the theatre, and see and hear the
life of the day artificially put together, prettily set off, inter-
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 133
woven with a story, removed from reality by the masks, and
brought near to it by manners. In all this they take a
childish delight, and again shout and clap, and make a noise.
From day to night, nay, from midnight to midnight, it is
always the same.
I have not often seen more natural acting than that of
these masks. It is such acting as can only be sustained by
a remarkably happy talent and long practice.
While I am writing this, they are making a tremendous
noise on the canal under my window, though it is past mid-
night. Whether for good or for evil, they are always doing
something.
Oct. 4.
I have now heard public orators ; viz., three fellows in the
square and on the stone bench (each telling tales after his
fashion) , two advocates, two preachers, and the actors, among
whom I must especially commend the pantaloon. All these
have something in common, both because they belong to one
and the same nation, — which, as it always lives in public,
always adopts an impassioned manner of speaking, — and be-
cause they imitate each other. There is,' besides, a marked
language of gesticulations, with which they accompany the
expressions of their intentions, views, and feelings.
This day was the festival of St. Francis ; and I was in his
church, Alle Vigne. The loud voice of the capuchin was
accompanied by the cries of the salesmen in front of the
church, as by an antiphony. I stood at the church-door be-
tween the two, and the effect was singular enough.
Oct. 5.
This morning I was in the arsenal, which I found interest-
ing enough, though I know nothing of maritime affairs ; and
visited the lower school there. It has an appearance like
that of an old family, which still bustles about, although its
best time of blossom and fruit has passed. By paying atten-
tion to the handicraftsmen, I have seen much that is remark-
able, and have been on board an eighty- four-gun ship, the
hull of which is just completed.
Six months ago, a thing of the sort was burned down to
the water's edge, off the Eiva dei Schiavoni. The powder-
room was not very full ; and, when it blew up, it did no great
damage. The windows of the neighboring houses were de-
stroyed.
134 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
I have seen worked the finest oak from Istria, and have
made my observations in return upon this valuable tree.
That knowledge of the natural things used by man as mate-
rials, and employed for his wants, which I have acquired
with so much difficulty, has been incalculably serviceable in
explaining to me the proceedings of artists and artisans.
The knowledge of mountains, and of the stone taken out of
them, has been to me a great advance in art.
Oct. 5.
To give a notion of the Bucentaur in one word, I should
say that it is a state-galley. The older one, of which we
still have drawings, justified this appellation still more than
the present one, which, by its splendor, makes us forget its
original.
I am always returning to my old opinions. When a genu-
ine subject is given to an artist, his productions will be some-
thing genuine also. Here the artist was commissioned to
form a galley worthy to carry the heads of the republic on
the highest festivals in honor of its ancient rule on the sea ;
and the problem has been admirably solved. The vessel is
all ornament : we ought to say it is overladen with orna-
ment. It is altogether one piece of gilt carving, for no other
use but that of a pageant to exhibit to the people its leaders
in right noble style. We know well enough that a people
who likes to deck out its boats is no less pleased to see their
rulers bravely adorned. This state-galley is a good index to
show what the Venetians were, and what they considered
themselves.
Oct. 5. Night.
I have come home from a tragedy, and am still laughing ;
and I must at once make the jest secure upon paper. The
piece was not bad. The author had brought together all the
tragic matadors, and the actors played well. Most of the
situations were well known, but some were new and highly
felicitous. There are two fathers who hate each other ; sons
and daughters of these severed families, who respectively are
passionately in love with each other ; and one couple is even
privately married. Wild and cruel work goes on ; and at
last nothing remains to render the young people happy, but
to make the two fathers kill each other, upon which the cur-
tain falls amid the liveliest applause. Now the applause
becomes more vehement, now fuora was called out ; and
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 135
this lasted until the two principal couples vouchsafed to
crawl forward from behind the curtain, make their bow, and
retire at the opposite side.
The public was not yet satisfied, but went on clapping, and
crying, "7 mortil" till the two dead men also came for-
ward, and made their bow, when some voices cried, " Bravi i
morti!" The applause detained them for a long time, till
at last they were allowed to depart. The effect is infinitely
more droll to the eye-and-ear witness, who, like me, has
ringing in his ears the ' * bravo ! bravi I ' ' which the Italians
have incessantly in their mouths, and then suddenly hears
the dead also called forward with this word of honor.
We of the north can say * i good-night ' ' at any hour, when
we take leave after dark ; but the Italian says, " Felicissima
notte " only once, and that is when the candles are brought
into a room. Day and night are thus divided, and some-
thing quite different is meant. So impossible is it to trans-
late the idioms of any language. From the highest to the
lowest word, all has reference to the peculiarities of the na-
tives, in character, opinions, or circumstances.
Oct. 6.
The tragedy yesterday taught me a great deal. In the
first place, I have heard how the Italians treat and declaim
their eleven- syllable iambics ; and, in the next place, I have
understood the tact of Gozzi in combining masks with his
tragic personages. This is the proper sort of play for this
people, which likes to be moved in a rough fashion. It has
no tender, heartfelt sympathy for the unfortunate person-
age, but is only pleased when the hero speaks well. The
Italians attach a great deal of importance to the speaking ;
and then they like to laugh, or to hear something silly.
Their interest in the drama is like that in the real event.
When the tyrant gave his son a sword, and required him to
kill his own wife, who was standing opposite, the people
began loudly to express their disapprobation of this demand ;
and there was a great risk that the piece would have been
interrupted. They insisted that the old man should take his
sword back, in which case all the subsequent situations in the
drama would have been completely spoiled. At last the dis-
tressed son plucked up courage, advanced to the proscenium,
and humbly entreated that the audience would have patience
for a moment, assuring them that all would turn out to their
entile satisfaction. But, even judging from an artisticai
136 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
point of view, this situation was, under the circumstances,
silly and unnatural, and I commended the people for their
feeling.
I can now better understand the long speeches and the
frequent dissertations, pro and con, in the Greek tragedy.
The Athenians liked still more to hear speaking, and were still
better judges of it, than the Italians. They learned some-
thing from the courts of law, where they spent the whole day.
Oct. 6.
In those works of Palladio which are completed, I have
found much to blame, together with much that is highly valu-
able. While I was reflecting how far I was right or wrong
in setting my judgment in opposition to that of so extraordi-
nary a man, I felt as if he stood by and said, " I did so and
so against my will, but, nevertheless, I did it, because in
this manner alone was it possible for me, under the given
circumstances, to approximate to my highest idea."
The more I consider the matter, the more it seems to me
that Palladio, while contemplating the height and width of
an already existing church, or of an old house to which he
was to attach facades, only considered, " How will you give
the greatest form to these dimensions? Some part of the
detail must, from the necessity of the case, be put out of its
place, or spoiled, and something unseemly is sure to arise
here and there. Be that as it may, the whole will have a
grand style, and you will be pleased with your work."
And thus he carried out the great image which he had
within his soul, just to the point where it was not quite suita-
ble, and where he was obliged, in the detail, to mutilate or to
overcrowd it.
On the other hand, the wing of the Carita cannot be too
highly prized ; for here the artist's hands were free, and he
could follow the bent of his own mind without constraint. If
the convent were finished, there would, perhaps, be no work
of architecture more perfect throughout the present world.
How he thought and how he worked become more and
more clear to me, the more I read his works, and reflect how
he treated the ancients ; for he says few words, but they are
all important. The fourth book, which illustrates the antique
temples, is a good introduction to a judicious examination of
ancient remains.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 137
Oct. 7.
Yesterday evening I saw the Electra of Cr^billon, that is
to say a translation, at the theatre St. Crisostomo. I can-
not say how absurd the piece appeared to me, and how ter-
ribly it tired me out.
The actors are generally good, and know how to put off
the public with single passages.
Orestes alone has three narratives poetically set off in
one scene. Eiectra, a pretty little woman, of the middle size
and stature, with almost French vivacity, and with a good
deportment, delivered the verses beautifully, only she acted
the part madly from beginning to end, which, alas ! it re-
quires. However, I have again learned something. The
Italian iambic, which is invariably of eleven s3-llables, is
very inconvenient for declamation, because the last syllable
is always short, and causes an involuntary elevation of the
declaimer's voice.
This morning I was present at high mass, which annually,
on this day, the doge must attend, in the Church of St. Jus-
tina, to commemorate an old victory over the Turks. When
the gilded barks which carry the princes and a portion of
the nobility approach the little square ; when the boatmen,
in their rare liveries, are plying their red-painted oars ; when,
on the shore, the clergy and the religious fraternities are
standing, pushing, moving about, and waiting with their
lighted torches, fixed upon poles and portable silver chan-
deliers ; then, when the gangways covered with carpet are
placed from the vessels to the shore, and first the full violet
dresses of the Savii, next the ample red robes of the sena-
tors, are unfolded upon the pavement, and, lastly, when the
old doge, adorned with his golden Phrygian cap, in his long
golden talar and his ermine cloak, steps out of the vessel, —
when all this, I say, takes place in a little square before the
portal of a church, one feels as if he were looking at an old
worked tapestry, exceedingly well designed and colored. To
me, northern fugitive as I am, this ceremony gave a great
deal of pleasure. With us, who parade nothing but short
coats in our processions of pomp, and who conceive nothing
greater than one performed with shouldered arms, such an
affair might be out of place. But these trains, these peaceful
Celebrations, are all in keeping here.
The doge is a well-grown and well-shaped man, who, per-
haps, suffers from ill health, but nevertheless, for dignity's
sake, bears himself upright under his heavy robe. In other
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respects he looks like the grandpapa of the whole race, and
is kind and affable. His dress is very becoming. The little
cap which he wears under the large one does not offend the
eye, resting as it does upon the whitest and finest hair in the
world.
About fifty nobili, with long dark-red trains, were with
him. For the most part, they were handsome men ; and there
was not a single uncouth figure among them. Several of
them were tall, with large heads ; so that the white curly wigs
were very becoming to them. Their features are prominent.
The flesh of their faces is soft and white, without looking
flabby and disagreeable. On the contrary, there is an ap-
pearance of talent without exertion, repose, self-confidence,
easiness of existence ; and a certain joyousness pervades the
whole.
When all had taken their places in the church, and mass
began, the fraternities entered by the chief door, and went
out at the side-door to the right, after they had received holy
water in couples, and made their obeisance to the high altar,
to the doge, and the nobility.
Night.
For this evening I had bespoke the celebrated so?ig of the
mariners, who chant Tasso and Ariosto to melodies of their
own. This must be actually ordered, as it is not to be heard
as a thing of course, but rather belongs to the half -forgotten
traditions of former times. I entered a gondola by moon-
light, with one singer before, and the other behind me. They
sing their song, taking up the verses alternately. The mel-
ody, which we know through Rousseau, is of a middle kind,
between choral and recitative, maintaining throughout the
same cadence, without any fixed time. The modulation is
also uniform, only varying with a sort of declamation, both
tone and measure, according to the subject of the verse.
But the spirit, the life of it, is as follows : —
Without inquiring into the construction of the melody,
suffice it to say, that it is admirably suited to that easy class
of people, who, always humming something or other to them-
selves, adapt such tunes to any little poem they know by
heart.
Sitting on the shore of an island, on the bank of a canal,
or on the side of a boat, a gondolier will sing away with a
loud penetrating voice, — the multitude admire force above
every thing, — anxious only to be heard as far as possible.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 139
Over the silent mirror it travels far. Another in the dis-
tance, who is acquainted with the melody, and knows the
words, takes it up, and answers with the next verse, and
then the first replies ; so that the one is, as it were, the echo
of the other. The song continues through whole nights, and
is kept up without fatigue. The farther the singers are from
each other, the more touching sounds the strain. The best
place for the listener is halfway between the two.
In order to let me hear it, they landed on the bank of the
Guidecca, and took up different positions by the canal. I
walked backward and forward between them, so as to leave
the one whose turn it was to sing, and to join the one who
had just left off. Then it was that the effect of the strain
first opened upon me. As a voice from the distance, it
sounds in the highest degree strange, — as a lament without
sadness : it has an incredible effect, and is moving even to
tears. I ascribed this to my own state of mind ; but my old
boatman said, " E singolare, como quel canto intenerirsce, e
molto piu quando e piu ben cantata." He wished that I
could hear the women of the Lido, especially those of Mala-
mocco and Pelestrina. These also, he told me, chanted
Tasso and Ariosto to the same or similar melodies. He
went on, " In the evening, while their husbands are on the
sea, fishing, they are accustomed to sit on the beach, and
with shrill, penetrating voice to make these strains resound,
until they catch from the distance the voices of their part-
ners, and in this wa}' they keep up a communication with
them." Is not that beautiful ? And yet it is very possible
that one who heard them close by would take little pleasure
in such tones, which have to vie with the waves of the sea.
Human, however, and true, becomes the song in this way.
Thus is life given to the melody on whose dead elements we
should otherwise have been sadly puzzled. It is the song of
one solitary, singing at a distance, in the hope that another
of kindred feelings and sentiments may hear and answer.
Venice, Oct. 8, 1786.
I paid a visit to the Palace Pisani Moretta, for the sake
of a charming picture by Paul Veronese. The females of the
family of Darius are represented kneeling before Alexander
and Hephsestion : his mother, who is in the foreground, mis-
takes Hephsestion for the king ; turning away from her, he
points to Alexander. A strange story is told about this
painting. The artist had been well received and for a long
140 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
time honorably entertained in the palace: in return, he
secretly painted the picture, and left it behind him as a
present, rolled up under his bed. Certainly it well deserves
to have had a singular origin, for it gives an idea of all the
peculiar merits of this master. The great art with which he
manages, by a skilful distribution of light and shade, and
by an equally clever contrast of the local colors, to produce
a most delightful harmony, without throwing any sameness
of tone over the whole picture, is here most strikingly visi-
ble. For the picture is in excellent preservation, and stands
before us almost with the freshness of yesterday. Indeed,
whenever a painting of this order has suffered from neglect,
our enjoyment of it is marred on the spot, even before we
are conscious what the cause may be.
Whoever feels disposed to quarrel with the artist on the
score of costume has only to say he ought to have paiuted a
scene of the sixteenth century ; and the matter is at an end.
The gradation in the expression, from the mother through the
wife to the daughters, is in the highest degree true and happy.
The youngest princess, who kneels behind all the rest, is a
beautiful girl, and has a very pretty but somewhat inde-
pendent and haughty countenance. Her position does not
at all seem to please her.
My old gift of seeing the world with the eyes of that
painter whose pictures have most recently made an impres-
sion on me, has occasioned me some peculiar reflections. It
is evident that the eye forms itself by the objects which from
youth up it is accustomed to look upon ; and so the Venetian
artist must see all things in a clearer and brighter light than
other men. We, whose eye when out of doors falls on a
dingy soil, which, when not muddy, is dusty, and which,
always colorless, gives a sombre hue to the reflected rays, or
at home spend our lives in close, narrow rooms, can never
attain to such a cheerful view of nature.
As I floated down the lagunes in the full sunshine, and
observed how the figures of the gondoliers in their motley
costume, and as they rowed, lightly moving above the sides
of the gondola, stood out from the bright green surface, and
against the blue sky, I caught the best and freshest type
possible of the Venetian school. The sunshine brought out
the local colors with dazzling brilliancy ; and the shades even
were so luminous, that, comparatively, they in their turn
might serve as lights. And the same may be said of the
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 141
reflection from the sea-green water. All was painted chiaro
nell chiaro ; so that foamy waves and lightning-flashes were
necessary to give it the last finish (um die Tilpfchen auf
" i " zu setzen).
Titian and Paul have this brilliancy in the highest degree ;
and, whenever we do not find it in any of their works, the
piece is either damaged or has been touched up.
The cupola and vaulting of St. Mark's, with its side-walls,
are covered with paintings, — a mass of richly colored figures
on a golden ground, all in mosaic-work ; some of them very
good, others but poor, according to the masters who fur-
nished the cartoons.
Circumstances here have strangely impressed on my mind
how every thing depends on the first invention, and that this
constitutes the right standard, the true genius ; since with
little square pieces of glass (and here not in the soberest
manner) it is possible to imitate the good as well as the
bad. The art which furnished to the ancients their pave-
ments, and to the Christians the vaulted veilings of their
churches, fritters itself away in our days on snuff-box lids
and bracelet-clasps. The present times are worse even than
one thinks.
Venice, Oct. 8, 1786.
In the Farsetti Palace, there is a valuable collection of casts
from the best antiques, I pass over all such as I had seen
before at Mannheim or elsewhere, and mention only new
acquaintances, — a Cleopatra in intense repose, with the
asp coiled round her arm, and sinking into the sleep of
death ; a Niobe shrouding with her robe her youngest daugh-
ter from the arrows of Apollo ; some gladiators ; a winged
genius resting in his flight ; some philosophers, both in sit-
ting and standing postures.
They are works from which, for thousands of }^ears to
come, the world may receive delight and instruction, without
ever being able to equal with their thanks the merits of the
artists.
Many speaking busts transported me to the old, glorious
times. Only I felt, alas ! how backward I am in these studies.
However, I will go on with them : at least I know the way.
Palladio has opened the road for me to this and every other
art and life. That sounds, probably, somewhat strange, and
yet not so paradoxical as when Jacob Bohme says, that, by
seeing a pewter platter by a ray from Jupiter, he was
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enlightened as to the whole universe. There is also in this
collection a fragment of the entablature of the temple of
Antoninus and Faustina, in Rome.
The bold front of this noble piece of architecture remind-
ed me of the capital of the Pantheon at Mannheim. It is,
indeed, something very different from our queer saints, piled
up one above the other on little consoles, after the Gothic
style of decoration ; something different from our tobacco-
pipe-like shafts, our little steeple-crowned towers and foli-
ated terminals. From all taste for these I am now, thank
God, set free forever !
I will further mention a few works of statuary, which, as
I passed along these last few days, I have observed with
astonishment and instruction. Before the gate of the Arsenal
two huge lions of white marble : the one is half recumbent,
raising himself up on his fore-feet ; the other is lying, — noble
emblems of the variety of life. They are of such huge
proportions, that all around appears little, and man himself
would become as nought, did not sublime objects elevate
him. They are of the best times of Greece, and were brought
here from the Piraeus, in the better days of the Republic.
From Athens, too, in all probability, came two bas-reliefs
which have been introduced in the Church of St. Justina, the
conqueress of the Turks. Unfortunately they are in some
degree hidden by the church-seats. The sacristan called my
attention to them, on account of the tradition that Titian
modelled from them the beautiful angel in his picture of the
martyrdom of St. Peter. The .relievos represent genii, who
are decking themselves out with the attributes of the gods, —
so beautiful in truth as to transcend all idea or conception.
Next I contemplated with quite peculiar feelings the naked
colossal statute of Marcus Agrippa, in the court of a palace :
a dolphin, which is twisting itself by his side, points out the
naval hero. How does such an heroic representation make
the mere man equal to the gods !
I took a close view of the horses of St. Mark's. "When
one looks up at them from below, it is easy to see that they
are spotted : in places they exhibit a beautiful yellow-metallic
lustre, in others a coppery green has run over them. View-
ing them more closely, one sees distinctly that once they were
gilt all over ; and long streaks are still to be seen over them,
as the barbarians did not attempt to file off the gold, but
tried to cut it off. That, too, is well : thus the shape at
least has been preserved.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 143
A glorious team of horses : I should like to hear the opinion
of a good judge of horse-flesh. What seemed strange to me
was, that, closely viewed, they appear heavy, while from the
piazza below they look as light as deer.
Oct. 8, 1786.
Yesterday I set out early, with my tutelary genius, for the
Lido, — the tongue of land which shuts in the lagunes, and
divides them from the sea. We landed, and walked straight
across the isthmus. I heard a loud hollow murmur : it was
the sea. I soon saw it : it crested high against the shore,
as it retired. It was about noon, and time of ebb. I have
then at last seen the sea with my own eyes, and followed
it on its beautiful bed, just as it quitted it. I wished the
children had been there to gather the shells : child-like, I
myself picked up plenty of them. However, I attempted to
make them useful : I tried to dry in them some of the fluid
of the cuttle-fish, which here dart away from you in shoals.
On the Lido, not far from the sea, is the burial-place of
Englishmen, and, a little farther on, of the Jews. Both alike
are refused the privilege of resting in consecrated ground.
I found here the tomb of Smith, the noble English consul,
and of his first wife. It is to him that I owe my first copy
of Palladio. I thanked him for it, here in his unconsecrated
grave. And not only unconsecrated, but half buried, is the
tomb. The Lido is at best but a sand-bank (daune) . The
sand is carried from it backward and forward by the wind,
and, thrown up in heaps, is encroaching on every side. In
a short time the monument, which is tolerably high, will no
longer be visible.
But the sea — it is a grand sight! I will try and get a sail
upon it some day in a fishing-boat. The gondolas never
venture out so far.
Oct. 8, 1786.
On the seacoast I found, also, several plants, whose char-
acters, similar to others I already knew, enabled me to rec-
ognize pretty well their properties. They are all alike, fat
and strong, full of sap, and clammy ; and it is evident that
the old salt of the sandy soil, but still more the saline atmos-
phere, gives them these properties. Like aquatic plants,
they abound in sap, and are fleshy and tough, like moun-
tainous ones. Those whose leaves show a tendency to put
forth prickles, after the manner of thistles, have them ex-
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tremely sharp and strong. I found a bush with leaves of
this kind. It looked very much like our harmless colt's-
foot, only here it is armed with sharp weapons, — the leaves
like leather, as also are the seed-vessels, and the stalk very
thick and succulent. I bring with me seeds and specimens
of the leaves (Eryngium maritimum) .
The fish-market, with its numberless marine productions,
afforded me much amusement. I often go there to contem-
plate the poor captive inhabitants of the sea.
Venice, Oct. 9, 1786.
A delicious day, from morning to night. I have been
towards Chiozza, as far as Pelestrina, where are the great
structures called " Murazzi," which the republic has caused
to be raised against the sea. They are of hewn stone, and
properly are intended to protect from the fury of the wild
element the tongue of land, called the " Lido," which sepa-
rates the lagunes from the sea.
The lagunes are the work of old nature. First of all, the
land and tide, the ebb and flow, working against one another,
and then the gradual sinking of the primal waters, were, to-
gether, the causes why, at the upper end of the Adriatic, we
find a pretty extensive range of marshes, which, covered by
the flood- tide, are partly left bare by the ebb. Art took
possession of the highest spots ; and thus arose Venice, formed
out of a group of a hundred isles, and surrounded by hun-
dreds more. Moreover, at an incredible expense of money
and labor, deep canals have been dug through the marshes,
in order, that, at the time of high water, ships-of-war might
pass to the chief points. What human industry and wit
contrived and executed of old, skill and industry must now
keep up. The Lido, a long narrow strip of land, separates
the lagunes from the sea, which can enter at only two points,
— at the castle and at the opposite end, near Chiozza. The
tide flows in usually twice a day, and with the ebb car-
ries out the waters twice, and always by the same channel
and in the same direction. The flood covers the lower
parts of the morass, but leaves the higher, if not dry, yet
visible.
The case would be quite altered, were the sea to make
new ways for itself to attack the tongue of land, and flow in
and out wherever it chose. Not to mention that the little
villages on the Lido — viz. , Pelestrina, St. Peter's, and others
— would be overwhelmed, the canals of communication would
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 145
be choked up, and, while the water involved all in ruin, the
Lido would be changed into an island, and the islands which
now lie behind it be converted into necks and tongues of
land. To guard against this, it was necessary to protect the
Lido as far as possible, lest the furious element should capri-
ciously attack and overthrow what man had already taken
possession of, and, with a certain end and purpose, given
shape and use to.
In extraordinary cases, when the sea rises above measure,
it is especially necessary to prevent it entering at more than
two points. Accordingly, the rest of the sluice-gates being
shut, it is, with all its violence, unable to enter, and in a few
hours submits to the law of the ebb, and its fury lessens.
But Venice has nothing to fear : the extreme slowness
with which the sea-line retires assures to her thousands of
years yet ; and, by prudently deepening the canals from time
to time, they will easily maintain their possessions against
the inroads of the water.
I only wish they were keeping their streets a little cleaner,
— a duty which is as necessary as it is easy of performance,
and which, in fact, becomes of great consequence in the course
of centuries. Even now, in the principal thoroughfares, it is
forbidden to throw any thing into the canals : the sweepings
even of the streets may not be cast into them. No meas-
ures, however, are taken to prevent the rain, which here falls
in sudden and violent torrents, from carrying off the dirt,
which is collected in piles at the corner of every street, and
washing it into the lagunes, nay, what is still worse, into
the gutters for carrying off the water, which consequently
are often so completely stopped up, that the principal squares
are in danger of being under water. Even in the smaller
piazza of St. Mark's I have seen the gullies, which are well
laid down there, as well as in the greater square, choked up,
and full of water.
When a rainy day comes, the filth is intolerable : every
one is cursing and scolding. In ascending and descending
the bridges, one soils one's mantle and great-coat (Tabarro),
which is here worn all the year round ; and, as one goes along
in shoes and silk stockings, he gets splashed, and then scolds ;
for it is not common mud, but such as adheres and stains,
that one is here splashed with. The weather soon becomes
fine again, and then no one thinks of cleaning the streets.
How true is the saying, the public is ever complaining that
it is ill served, and never knows how to set about getting
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better served. Here, if the sovereign people wished it, it
might be done forthwith.
This evening I ascended the Tower of St. Mark's. As I
had lately seen from its top the lagunes in their glory at
flood- time, I wished also to see them at low water ; for, in
order to have a correct idea of the place, it is necessary to
take in both views. It looks strange to see land all around
where there had previously been a mirror of waters. The
islands are no longer islands, merely higher and house-
crowned spots in one large morass of a gray-greenish color,
and intersected by beautiful canals. The marshy parts are
overgrown with aquatic plants, — a circumstance which must
tend, in time, to raise their level, although the ebb and flow
are continually shaking and tossing them, and leave no rest
to the vegetation.
I now return with my narrative once more to the sea. I
there saw yesterday the haunts of the sea-snails, the limpets,
and the crab, and was highly delighted with the sight. What
a precious glorious object is a living thing ! how wonder-
fully adapted to its state of existence, how true, how real
(seyend) ! What great advantages I now derive from my
former studies of nature, and how delighted I am with the
opportunity of continuing them ! But, as this is a matter
that admits of being communicated, I will not excite the
sympathy of my friends by mere exclamations.
The stone-works which have been built against the inroads
of the sea consist, first of all, of several steep steps ; then
comes a slightly inclined plane ; then, again, they rise a step,
which is once more succeeded by a gently ascending surface ;
and last of all comes a perpendicular wall with an overhang-
ing coping over these steps : over these planes the raging
sea rises, until, in extraordinary cases, it even dashes over
the highest wall with its projecting head.
The sea is followed by its inhabitants, — little periwinkles
good to eat, monovalve limpets, and whatever else has the
power of motion, especially by the pungar-crabs. But
scarcely have these little creatures taken possession of the
smooth walls, when the sea retires again, swelling and crest-
ing as it came. At first the crowd know not where they
are, and keep hoping that the briny flood will soon return ;
but it still keeps away. The sun scorches, and quickly dries
all up ; and now begins the retreat. It is on these occasions
that the pungars seek their prey. Nothing more wonderful
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 147
or comical can be seen than the manoeuvres of these little
creatures, with their round bodies and two long claws (for
the other spider-feet are scarcely worth noticing) . On these
stilted fore-legs, as it were, they stride along, watching the
limpets ; and, as soon as one moves under its shell on the
rock, a pungar comes up, and, inserting the point of his claw
in the tiny interstice between the shell and the rock, turns it
over, and so manages to swallow the oyster. The limpets,
on the other hand, proceed cautiously on their way, and by
suction fasten themselves firmly to the rocky surface as soon
as they are aware of the proximity of their foe. In such
cases the pungar deports himself amusingly enough : round
and round the pulpy animal, who keeps himself safe beneath
his roof, will he go with singular politeness ; but not succeed-
ing with all his coaxing, and being unable to overcome its
powerful muscle, he leaves in despair this intended victim,
and hastens after another, who may be wandering less cau-
tiously on his way.
I never saw a crab succeed in his designs, although I have
watched for hours the retreat of the little troop as they
crawled down the two planes and the intermediate steps.
Venice, Oct. 10, 1786.
At last I am able to say that I have seen a comedy. Yes-
terday, at the theatre of St. Luke, was performed " Le Ba-
ruffe-Chiozotte" which I should interpret the "Frays and
Feuds of Chiozza. ,, The dramatis personce are principally
seafaring people, inhabitants of Chiozza, with their wives,
sisters, and daughters. The usual noisy demonstrations of
such sort of people in their good or ill luck, their dealings
one with another, their vehemence, but goodness of heart,
commonplace remarks and unaffected manners, their naive
wit and humor, — all this was excellently imitated. The play,
moreover, is Goldoni's ; and as I had been only the day be-
fore in the place itself, and as the tones and manners of the
sailors and people of the seaport still echoed in my ears and
floated before my eyes, it delighted me very much ; and, al-
though I did not understand a single allusion, I was, on the
whole, able to follow the plot pretty well. I will now give
you the plan of the piece. It opens with the females of Chi-
ozza sitting, as usual, on the strand before their cabins,
spinning, mending nets, sewing, or making lace. A youth
passes by, and notices one of them with a more friendly greet-
ing than he does the rest. Immediately the joking begins,
148 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
and observes no bounds. Becoming tarter and tarter, and
growing ill-tempered, it soon bursts out into reproaches :
abuse vies with abuse. In the midst of all, one dame, more
vehement than the rest, bounces out with the truth ; and now
an - endless din of scolding, railing, and screaming. There
is no lack of more decided outrage, and at last the peace-
officers are compelled to interfere.
The second act opens with the court of justice. In the
absence of the podestd, (who, being a noble, could not law-
fully be brought upon the stage) , the actuarius presides.
He orders the women to be brought before him one by one.
This gives rise to an interesting scene. It happens that this
official personage is himself enamoured of the first of the
combatants who is brought before him. Only too happy to
have an opportunity of speaking with her alone, instead of
hearing what she has to say on the matter in question, he
makes her a declaration of love. In the midst of it a second
woman, who is herself in love with the actuary, in a fit of
jealousy rushes in, and with her the suspicious lover of the
first damsel, who is followed by all the rest ; and now the
same demon of confusion riots in the court, as, a little before,
had set at loggerheads the people of the harbor. In the
third act the fun gets more and more boisterous, and the
whole ends with a hasty and poor denoilment. The happiest
thought, however, of the whole piece, is a character who is
thus drawn : an old sailor, who, owing to the hardships to
which he had been exposed from his childhood, trembles and
falters in all his limbs, and especially in his organs of speech,
is brought on the scene to serve as a foil to this restless,
screaming, and jabbering crew. Before he can utter a word,
he has to make a long preparation by a slow twitching of
his lips and an assistant motion of his hands, and arms : at
last he blurts out what his thoughts are on the matter in
dispute. But, as he can only manage to do this in very short
sentences, he acquires thereby a sort of laconic gravity, so
that all he utters sounds like an adage or maxim ; and in
this way a happy contrast is afforded to the wild and pas-
sionate exclamations of the other personages.
But, even as it was, I never witnessed any thing like the
noisy delight the people evinced at seeing themselves and
their mates represented with such truth of nature. It was
one continued laugh, and tumultuous shout of exultation,
from beginning to end. I must, however, confess that the
piece was extremely well acted by the players. According to
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 149
the cast of their several parts, they had adopted among them
the different tones of voice which usually prevail among the
inhabitants of the place. The first actress was the universal
favorite, more so even than she had recently been in an
heroic dress and a scene of passion. The female players
generally, but especially this one, imitated in the most pleas-
ing manner possible the twang, the manners, and other pe-
culiarities, of the people they represented. Great praise is
due to the author, who out of nothing has here created the
most amusing divertissement. However, he never could have
done it with any other people than his own merry and light-
hearted countrymen. The farce is written throughout with
a practised hand.
Of Sacchi's company, for which Gozzi wrote (but which
by the by is now broken up), I saw Smeraldina, a short,
plump figure, full of life, tact, and good humor. With her
I saw Brighella, a slight well-made man and an excellent
actor, especially in pantomime. These masks, which we
scarcely know, except in the form of mummings, and which
to our minds possess neither life nor meaning, succeed here,
only too well as the creation of the national taste. Here the
most distinguished characters, persons of every age and
condition, think nothing of dressing themselves out in the
strangest costumes ; and as, for the greater part of the year,
they are accustomed to wander about in masks, they feel no
surprise at seeing the black visors on the stage also.
Venice, Oct. 11, 1786.
Since solitude in the midst of a great crowd of human
beings is, after all, not possible, I have taken up with an old
Frenchman, who knows nothing of Italian, and suspects that
he is cheated on all hands, and taken advantage of, and
who, notwithstanding plenty of letters of recommendation,
does not make his way with the good people here. A man
of rank, who is well bred, but whose mind cannot go beyond
himself and his own immediate circle. He is perhaps full
fifty, and has at home a boy seven years old, of whom he is
always anxious to get news. He is travelling through Italy
for pleasure, but rapidly, in order to be able to say that he
has seen it, but is willing to learn whatever is possible as he
hurries along. I have shown him some civilities, and given
him information about many matters. While I was speaking
to him about Venice, he asked me how long I had been here,
and when he heard that this was my first visit, and that I
150 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
had only been here fourteen days, he replied, " H parait que
vousn'avez pas perdu votre temps." This is the first testi-
monium of my good behavior that I can furnish you. He
has been here a week, and leaves to-morrow. It was highly
delicious to me to meet in a strange land with such a regular
Versailles man. He is now about to quit me. It caused
me some surprise to think that any one could ever travel in
this temper, without a thought for any thing beyond himself ;
and yet he is, in his way, a polished, sensible, and well-con-
ducted person.
Venice, Oct. 12, 1786.
Yesterday, at St. Luke's, a new piece was acted, " L'lngli-
cismo in Italia " (" The English in Italy ") . As there are many
Englishmen living in Italy, it is not unnatural that their ways
and habits should excite notice ; and I expected to learn from
this piece what the Italians thought of their rich and welcome
visitors. But it was a total failure. There were, of course
(as is always the case here) , some clever scenes between buf-
foons ; but the rest was cast altogether in too grave and heavy
a mould, and yet not a trace of the English good sense ;
plenty of the ordinary Italian commonplaces of morality, and
those, too, upon the most common topics.
And it did not take : indeed, it was on the very point of
being hissed off the stage. The actors felt themselves out
of their element, not on the strand of Chiozza. As this was
the last piece that I saw here, my enthusiasm for these
national representations did not seem likely to be increased
by this piece of folly.
As I have at last gone through my journal, and entered
some occasional remarks from my tablets, my proceedings
are now enrolled, and left to the sentence of my friends.
There is, I am conscious, very much in these leaves which I
might qualify, enlarge upon, and improve. Let, however,
what is written stand as the memorial of first impressions,
which, if not always correct, will nevertheless be ever dear
and precious to me. Oh that I could but transmit to my
friends a breath merely of this light existence ! Verily, to the
Italian, " ultramontane" is a very vague idea; and, before
my mind even, ''beyond the Alps" rises very obscurely,
although from out of their mists friendly forms are beckon-
ing to me. It is the climate only that seduces me to prefer
a while these lands to those ; for birth and habit forge strong
fetters. Here, however, I could not live, nor, indeed, in any
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 151
place where I had nothing to occupy my mind ; but at present
novelty furnishes me here with endless occupation. Archi-
tecture rises, like an ancient spirit from the tombs, and bids
me study its laws, just as people study the rules of a dead
language, not in order to practise or to take a living joy in
them, but only in order to enable myself, in the quiet depths
of my own mind, to do honor to her existence in bygone ages,
and her forever departed glory. As Palladio everywhere
refers one to Vitruvius, I have bought Galiani's edition;
but this folio suffers in my portmanteau as much as my brain
does in the study of it. Palladio, by his words and works,
by his method and way, both of thinking and of executing,
has brought Vitruvius home to me, and interpreted him far
better than the Italian translator ever can. Vitruvius him-
self is no easy reading: his book is obscurely written, and
requires a critical study. Notwithstanding, I have read it
through cursorily, and it has left on my mind many a glori-
ous impression. To express my meaning better, I read it
like a breviary, more out of devotion than for instruction.
Already the days begin to draw in, and allow more time for
reading and writing.
God be praised ! Whatever from my youth up appeared to
me of worth is beginning once more to be dear to me. How
happy do I feel that I can again venture to approach the
ancient authors ! For now I may tell it, and confess at
once my disease and my folly. For many a long year I could
not bear to look at a Latin author, or to cast my eye upon
any thing that might serve to awaken in my mind the thoughts
of Italy. If by accident I did so, I suffered the most hor-
rible tortures of mind. It was a frequent joke of Herder's,
at my expense, that I had learned all my Latin from Spinoza ;
for he had noticed that this was the only Latin work I ever
read. But he was not aware how carefully I was obliged to
keep myself from the ancients ; how even these abstruse
generalities were but cursorily read by me, and even then
not without pain. At last matters came to that pitch that
even the perusal of Wieland's translation of the " Satires "
made me utterly wretched. I had barely read two when I
was already beside myself.
Had I not made the resolve which I am now carrying into
effect, I should have been altogether lost, to such a degree
of intensity had the desire grown to see these objects with
my own eyes. Historical acquaintance with them did me no
good. The things stood only a hand's-breadth away from
152 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
me ; but still they were separated from me by an impene-
trable wall. And in fact, at the present moment I some-
how feel as if this were not the first time that I had seen
these things, but as if I were paying a second visit to them.
Although I have been but a short time in Venice, I have
adapted myself pretty well to the ways of the place, and
feel confident that I shall carry away with me a clear and
true, though incomplete, idea of it.
Venice, Oct. 14, 1786.
Two o'clock, morning.
In the last moments of my stay here ; for I am to start
almost immediately, with the packet-boat, for Ferrara. I
quit Venice without reluctance ; for, to stay here longer with
any satisfaction and profit to myself, I must take other steps,
which would carry me beyond my present plan. Besides,
everybody is now leaving this city, and making for the beau-
tiful gardens and seats on the Terra Firma. I, however, go
away well loaded, and shall carry along with me its rich,
rare, and unique image.
FROM FERRARA TO ROME.
Oct. 16, 1786, early in the morning.
And on board the packet.
My travelling companions, male and female alike, are all
still fast asleep in their berths. For my part, I have passed
the two nights on deck, wrapped up in my cloak. It was
only towards morning that I felt it getting cold. I am now
actually in latitude forty-five, and yet go on repeating my
old song, — I would gladly leave all to the inhabitants of the
land, if only, after the fashion of Dido, I could enclose
enough of the heavens to surround our dwellings with. It
would then be quite another state of existence. The voyage
in this glorious weather has been most delightful, the views
and prospects simple, but agreeable. The Po, with its fer-
tilizing stream, flows here through wide plains. Nothing,
however, is to be seen but its banks covered with trees or
bushes : you catch no distant view. On this river, as on
the Adige, are silly water-works, which are as rude and ill-
constructed as those on the Saal.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 153
Ferrara, Oct. 16, 1786.
At night.
Although I only arrived here early this morning (by seven
o'clock, German time), I am thinking of setting off again
to-morrow morning. For the first time since I left home, a
feeling of dissatisfaction has fallen upon me in this great
and beautiful, but flat and depopulated city. These streets,
now so desolate, were, however, once kept in animation by a
brilliant court. Here dwelt Ariosto discontented, and Tasso
unhappy ; and so we fancy we gain edification by visiting
such scenes. Ariosto's monument contains much marble,
ill arranged : for Tasso 's prison they show a wood-house or
coal-house, where, most assuredly, he never was kept. More-
over, the people pretend to know scarcely any thing you may
ask about. But at last, for "something to drink " they man-
age to remember. All this brings to my mind Luther's ink-
spots, which the housekeeper freshens up from time to time.
Most travellers, however, are little better than our Hand-
werksburschen, or strolling journeymen, and content them-
selves with such palpable signs. For my part, I grew quite
sulky, and took little interest, even in a beautiful institute
and academy which a cardinal, a native of Ferrara, founded
and endowed. However, some ancient monuments in the
Ducal Palace served to revive me a little ; and I was put in
perfect good humor by a beautiful conception of a painter, —
John the Baptist before Herod and Herodias. The prophet,
in his well-known dress of the wilderness, is pointing indig-
nantly at Herodias. Quite unmoved, she looks at the prince,
who is sitting by her side, while the latter regards the
prophet with a calm but cunning look. A white, middle-sized
greyhound stands before the king, while from beneath the
robe of Herodias a small Italian one is peeping, both barking
at the prophet. To my mind, this is a most happy thought.
Cento, Oct. 17, 1786.
In a better temper than yesterday I write j 7 ou to-day
from Guercino's native city. It is, however, quite a different
place, — a hospitable, well-built little town of nearly five
thousand inhabitants, flourishing, full of life, cleanly, and
situated in a well-cultivated plain, which stretches farther
than the eye can reach. According to my usual custom, I
ascended the tower. A sea of poplars, between which,
and near at hand, one catches glimpses of little country-
houses, each surrounded by its fields. A rich soil and a
154 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
beautiful climate. It was au autumn evening, such as we
seldom have to thank even summer for. The sky, which
has been veiled all day, has cleared up, the clouds rolling
off north and south towards the mountains, and I hope to-
morrow will be a bright day.
Here I first saw the Apennines, which I am approaching.
The winter in this region lasts only through December and
January. April is rainy. The rest of the year the weather
is beautiful, according to the nature of the season. Inces-
sant rain is unknown. September here, to tell you the truth,
was finer and warmer than August with you. The Apen-
nines in the south have received a warm greeting from me,
for I have now had enough of the plain. To-morrow I shall
be writing at the foot of them.
Guercino loved his native town : indeed, the Italians almost
universally cherish and maintain this sort of local patriot-
ism ; and it is to this beautiful feeling that Italy owes so
many of its valuable institutions and its multitude of local
sanctuaries. Under the management of this master, an
academy of painting was formed here. He left behind him
many paintings, of which his townsmen are still very proud,
and which, indeed, fully justify their pride.
Guercino is here a sacred name, and that, too, in the
mouths of children as well as of the old.
Most charmed was I with his picture representing the
risen Lord appearing to his mother. Kneeling before him,
she looks upon him with indescribable affection. Her left
hand is touching his body just under the confounded wound,
which mars the whole picture. His hand lies upon her neck ;
and, in order the better to gaze upon her, his body is slightly
bent back. This gives to his figure a somewhat strange,
not to say forced, appearance. And yet, for all that, it is
infinitely beautiful. The calm and sad look with which
he contemplates her is unique, and seems to convey the
impression that before his noble soul there still floats a
remembrance of his own sufferings and of hers, which the
resurrection had not at once dispelled.
Strange has engraved the picture. I wish that my friends
could see even his copy of it.
After it a Madonna won my admiration. The child wants
the breast : she modestly shrinks from exposing her bosom.
Natural, noble, exquisite, and beautiful.
Further, a Mary, who is guiding the arm of the infant
Christ, standing before her with his face towards the people,
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 155
in order that with uplifted fingers he may bestow his bless-
ings upon them. Judged by the spirit of Rom an- Catholic
mythology, this is a very happy idea, which has often been
repeated.
Guercino is an intrinsically bold, masculine, sensible
painter, without roughness. On the contrary, his pieces
possess a certain tender moral grace, a reposeful freedom
and grandeur, but, with all that, a certain mannerism, so that,
when the eye once has grown accustomed to it, it is impossi-
ble to mistake a piece of his hand. The lightness, clean-
ness, and finish of his touch, are perfectly astonishing. For
his draperies he is particularly fond of a beautiful brownish-
red blend of colors. These harmonize very well with the
blue which he is fond of combining with them.
The subjects of the other paintings are more or less un-
happily chosen. The good artist has strained all his powers,
but his invention and execution alike are thrown away and
wasted. However, I derived both entertainment and profit
from the view of this cycle of art, although such a hasty and
rapid glance as I could alone bestow upon them affords but
little of either gratification or instruction.
Bologna, Oct. 18, 1786.
Night.
Yesterday I started very early, before daybreak, from
Cento, and arrived here in pretty good time. A brisk and
well-educated cicerone, having learned that I did not intend
to make a long stay here, hurried me through all the streets,
and into so many palaces and churches, that I had scarcely
time to set down in my note-book the names of them ; and I
hardly know if hereafter, when I shall look again at these
scrawls, I shall be able to call to mind all the particulars. I
will now, however, mention a couple or so of objects which
stand out bright and clear enough, as they afforded me a real
gratification at the time.
First of all, the Cecilia of Raphael. It was exactly what I
had been told of it, but now I saw it with my own eyes. He
has invariably accomplished that which others wished in vain
to accomplish, and I would at present say no more of it than
that it is by him. Five saints, side by side ; not one of them
has any thing in common with us : however, their existence
stands so perfectly real, that one would wish for the picture
to last through eternity, even though for himself he could be
content to be annihilated. But in order to understand Ra-
156 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
phael aright, and to form a just appreciation of him, and not
to praise him as a god, or as Melchisedec, "without descent "
or pedigree, it is necessary to study his masters and his
predecessors. These, too, had a standing on the firm soil of
truth. Diligently, not to say anxiously, they had laid the
foundation, and vied with each other in raising, step by step,
the pyramid aloft, until at last, profiting by all their labors,
and enlightened by a heavenly genius, Raphael set the last
stone on the summit, above which, or even at which, no one
else can ever stand.
Our interest in the history of art becomes peculiarly lively
when we consider the works of the old masters. Francesco
Francia is a very respectable artist ; Pietro Perugino, so
bold a man, that one might almost call him a noble German
fellow. Oh that fate had carried Albert Diirer farther into
Italy ! In Munich I saw a couple of pieces by him of incredi-
ble grandeur. Poor man ! how he mistook his own worth in
Venice, and made an agreement with the priests, on which
he lost weeks and months ! See him, in his journey through
the Netherlands, exchanging his noble works of art for
parrots, and, in order to save his douceur, drawing the por-
traits of the domestics, who bring him — a plate of fruit.
To me the history of such a poor fool of an artist is infinitely
touching.
Towards evening I got out of this ancient, venerable, and
learned city, and extricated myself from its crowds, who, pro-
tected from the sun and weather by the arched bowers which
are to be seen in almost every street, walk about, gape about,
or buy and sell, and transact whatever business they may
have. I ascended the tower, and enjoyed the pure air. The
view is glorious. To the north we see the hills of Padua ;
beyond them the Swiss, Tyrolese, and Friulian Alps, — in
short, the whole northern chain, which at the time was en-
veloped in mist. Westward there stretched a boundless
horizon, above which the towers of Modena alone stood out.
Towards the east a similar plain, reaching to the shores of
the Adriatic, whose waters might be discerned in the setting
sun. Towards the south, the first hills of the Apennines,
which, like the Vicentine Hills, are planted up to their sum-
mits, or covered with churches, palaces, and summer-houses.
The sky was perfectly clear, not a cloud to be seen, only on
the horizon a kind of haze. The keeper of the tower assured
me, that, for six years, this mist had never left the distance.
Otherwise, by the help of a telescope, you might easily dis-
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 157
cern the hills of Vicenza, with their houses and chapels, but
now very rarely, even on the brightest days. And this mist
lay chiefly on the northern chain, and makes our beloved
fatherland a regular Cimmeria. In proof of the salubrity of
the situation, and pure atmosphere of the city, he called my
notice to the fact that the roofs of the houses looked quite
fresh, and that not a single tile was attacked by damp or
moss. It must be confessed that the tiles look quite clean,
and beautiful enough : but the good quality of the brick-
earth may have something to do with this ; at least we know,
that, in ancient times, excellent tiles were made in these
parts.
The, Leaning Tower has a frightful look, and yet it is most
probable that it was built so by design. The following seems
to me the explanation of this absurdity. In the disturbed
times of the city, every large edifice was a fortress, and every
powerful family had its tower. By and by the possession
of such a building became a mark of splendor and distinc-
tion ; and as, at last, a perpendicular tower was a common
and every-day thing, an oblique one was built. Both archi-
tect and owner have obtained their object : the multitude of
slender, upright towers are just looked at, and all hurry to
see the leaning one. Afterwards I ascended it. The bricks
are all arranged horizontally. With clamps and good cement
one may build any mad whim.
Bologna, Oct. 19, 1786.
Evening.
I have spent this day to the best advantage I could in vis-
iting and revisiting. But it is with art as with the world : the
more we study it, the larger we find it. In this heaven, new
stars are constantly appearing which I cannot count, and
which sadly puzzle me, — the Carracci, a Guido, a Domini-
chino, who shone forth in a later and happier period of art,
but whom truly to enjoy requires both knowledge and judg-
ment which I do not possess, and which cannot be acquired
in a hurry. A great obstacle to our taking a pure delight in
their pictures, and to an immediate understanding of their
merits, are the absurd subjects of most of them. To admire
or to be charmed with them one must be a madman.
It is as though the sons of God had wedded with the
daughters of men, and out of such a union many a monster
had sprung into existence. No sooner are you attracted by
the gusto of a Guido and his pencil, by which nothing but the
158 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
most excellent objects the eye sees are worthy to be painted,
but you at once withdraw your eyes from a subject so abomi-
nably stupid that the world has no term of contempt suffi-
cient to express its meanness ; and so it is throughout. It
is ever anatomy, an execution, a flaying scene ; always some
suffering, never an action of the hero, never an interest in
the scene before you ; always something for the fancy, some
excitement accruing from without. Nothing but deeds of
horror or convulsive sufferings, malefactors or fanatics,
alongside of whom the artist, in order to save his art, invari-
ably slips in a naked boy or a pretty damsel, as a spectator,
in every case treating his spiritual heroes as little better than
lay -figures (Gliedermanner) on which to hang some beautiful
mantle with its folds. In all there is nothing that suggests
a human notion. Scarcely one subject in ten that ever ought
to have been painted, and that one the painter has chosen to
view from any but the right point of view.
Guido's great picture in the Church of the Mendicants is
all that painting can do, but, at the same time, all that ab-
surdity could task an artist with. It is a votive piece. I
can well believe that the whole consistory praised it, and
also that they devised it. The two angels, who were fit to
console a Psyche in her misery, must here . . .
The St. Proclus is, a beautiful figure, but the others —
bishops and popes ! Below are heavenly children playing
with attributes. The painter, who had no choice left him,
labored to help himself as best he could. He exerted him-
self merely to show that lie was not the barbarian. Two
naked figures by Guido, a St. John in the Wilderness, a
Sebastian — how exquisitely painted, and what do they say?
The one is gaping and the other wriggling.
Were I to contemplate history in my present ill humor, I
should say, faith revived art, but superstition immediately
made itself master of it, and ground it to the dust.
After dinner, seeming somewhat of a milder temper, and
less arrogantly disposed than in the morning, I entered the
following remarks in my note-book. In the Palace of the
Tanari there is a famous picture by Guido, — the Virgin suc-
kling the infant Saviour, of a size rather larger than life,
the head as if a god had painted it. Indescribable is the
expression with which she gazes upon the suckling infant.
To me it seems a calm, profound resignation, as if she were
nourishing, not the child of her joy and love, but a supposi-
titious, heavenly changeling, and goes on suckling it because
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 159
now she cannot do otherwise, although in deep humility she
wonders how she ever came to do it. The rest of the canvas
is filled up with a mass of drapery which connoisseurs highly
prize. For my part, I know not what to make of it. The
colors, too, are somewhat dim. The room and the day were
none of the brightest.
Notwithstanding the confusion in which I find myself, I
yet feel that experience, knowledge, and taste already come
to my aid in these mazes. Thus I was greatly won by a
Circumcision by Guercino, for I have begun to know and
to understand the man. I can now pardon the intolerable
subject, and delight in the masterly execution. Let him
paint whatever can be thought of : every thing will be praise-
worthy, and as highly finished as if it were enamel.
And thus it happened with me, as with Balaam, the over-
ruled prophet, who blessed where he thought to curse. And
I fear this would be the case still oftener, were I to stay here
much longer.
And then, again, if one happens to meet with a picture
after Raphael, or what may with at least some probability
be ascribed to him, one is soon perfectly cured, and in good
temper again. I fell in yesterday with a St. Agatha, a rare
picture, though not throughout in good keeping. The artist
has given to her the mien of a young maiden full of health
and self-possession, but yet without rusticity or coldness. I
have stamped on my mind both her form and look, and shall
mentally read before her my " Iphigenia," and shall not
allow my heroine to express a sentiment which the saint
herself might not give utterance to.
And now, when I think again of this sweet burden which
I carry with me throughout my wanderings, I cannot conceal
the fact, that, besides the great objects of nature and art
which I have yet to work my way through, a wonderful train
of poetical images keeps rising before me, and unsettling me.
From Cento to this place I have been wishing to continue my
labors on the c ' Iphigenia ; ' ' but what has happened ? Inspi-
ration has brought before my mind the plan of an fc ' Iphige-
nia at Delphi," and I must work it out. I will here set down
the argument as briefly as possible.
Electra, confidently hoping that Orestes will bring to
Delphi the image of the Taurian Diana, makes her appear-
ance in the Temple of Apollo, and, as a final sin-offering,
dedicates to the god the axe which has perpetrated so many
horrors in the house of Pelops. Unhappily, she is tit this
160 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
moment joined by a Greek, who recounts to her how, having
accompanied Py lades and Orestes to Tauris, he there saw
the two friends led to execution, but had himself luckily
made his escape. At this news, the passionate Electra is
unable to restrain herself, and knows not whether to vent
her rage against the gods, or against men.
In the mean time, Iphigenia, Orestes, and Pilades have
arrived at Delphi. The heavenly calmness of Iphigenia
contrasts remarkably with the earthly vehemence of Electra,
as the two sisters meet without knowing each other. The
fugitive Greek gains sight of Iphigenia, and, recognizing in
her the priestess who was to have sacrificed the two friends,
makes it known to Electra. The latter, snatching the axe
from the altar, is on the point of killing Iphigenia, when a
happy incident averts this last fearful calamity from the two
sisters. This situation, if only I can succeed in working it
out well, will probably furnish a scene unequalled for gran-
deur or pathos by any that has yet been produced on the
stage. But where is man to get time and hands for such
a work, even if the spirit be willing?
As I feel myself at present somewhat oppressed with such
a flood of thoughts of the good and desirable, I cannot help
reminding my friends of a dream which I had about a } 7 ear
ago, and which appeared to me to be highly significant. I
dreamed, forsooth, that I had been sailing about in a little
boat, and had landed on a fertile and richly cultivated island,
of which I had a consciousness that it bred the most beau-
tiful pheasants in the world. I bargained, I thought, with
the people of the island for some of these birds ; and they
killed and brought them to me in great numbers. They were
pheasants, indeed ; but as, in dreams, all things are generally
changed and modified, they seemed to have long, richly col-
ored tails, like the loveliest birds-of -paradise, and with eyes
like those of the peacock. Bringing them to me by scores,
they arranged them in the boat so skilfully, with the heads
inwards, the long, variegated feathers of the tail hanging
outwards, as to form in the bright sunshine the most glori-
ous pile conceivable, and so large as scarcely to leave room
enough in the bow and the stern for the rower and the steers-
man. As with this load the boat made its way through the
tranquil waters, I named to myself the friends among whom
I should like to distribute those variegated treasures. At
last, arriving in a spacious harbor, I was almost lost among
great and man}-masted vessels, as I mounted deck after
LETTERS FROM ITALY, 161
deck in order to discover a place where I might safely run
my little boat ashore.
Such dreamy visions have a charm ; inasmuch as, springing
from our mental state, they possess more or less of analogy
with the rest of our lives and fortunes.
But now I have also been to the famed scientific building
called the Institution, or Gli Studj. The edifice is large ;
and the inner court especially has a very imposing appear-
ance, although not of the best style of architecture. In the
staircases and corridors there was no want of stuccos and
frescos. They are all appropriate and suitable ; and the
numerous objects of beauty, which, well worth seeing, are
here collected together, justly command our admiration.
For all that, however, a German accustomed to a more lib-
eral course of study than is here pursued will not be alto-
gether content with it.
Here, again, a former thought occurred to me ; and I could
not but reflect on the pertinacity, which in spite of time,
which changes all things, man shows in adhering to the old
shapes of his public buildings, even long after they have
been applied to new purposes. Our churches still retain the
form of the basilica, although, probably, the plan of the tem-
ple would better suit our worship. In Italy the courts of
justice are as spacious and lofty as the means of a commu-
nity are able to make them. One can almost fancy himself
to be in the open air, where justice used once to be adminis-
tered. And do we not build our great theatres, with their
offices under a roof, exactly similar to those of the first the-
atrical booths of a fair, which were hurriedly put together of
planks? The vast multitude of those in whom, about the
time of the Reformation, a thirst for knowledge was awak-
ened, obliged the scholars at our universities to take shelter
as they could in the burghers' houses ; and it was very long
before any colleges for pupils ( Waisenhduser) were built,
thereby facilitating for poor youths the acquirement of the
necessary education for the world.
Bologna, Oct. 20, 1786.
Evening.
The whole of this bright and beautiful day I have spent
in the open air. I scarcely ever come near a mountain, but
my interest in rocks and stones again revives. I feel as did.
Antaeus of old, who found himself endued with new strength
162 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
as often as he was brought into fresh contact with his mother-
earth. I rode towards Palermo, where is found the so-called
Bolognese sulphate of barytes, out of which are made the
little cakes, which, being calcined, shine in the dark, if pre-
viously they have been exposed to the light, and which the
people here call, shortly and expressively, " phosphori."
On the road, after leaving behind me a hilly track of argil-
laceous sandstone, I came upon whole rocks of selenite,
quite visible on the surface. Near a brick-kiln a cascade
precipitates its waters, into which many smaller ones also
empty themselves. At first sight the traveller might suppose
he saw before him a loamy hill, which had been worn away
by the rain : ou closer examination, I discovered its true na-
ture to be as follows : the solid rock of which this part of the
line of hills consists is schistous, bituminous clay of very fine
strata, and alternating with gypsum. The schistous stone is
so intimately blended with pyrites, that, exposed to the air
and moisture, it wholly changes its nature. It swells, the
strata gradually disappear, and there is formed a kind of
potter's clay, crumbling, shelly, and glittering on the surface
like stone-coal. It is only by examining large pieces of both
(I myself broke several, and observed the forms of both) ,
that it is possible to convince one's self of the transition and
change. At the same time we observed the shelly strata
studded with white points, and occasionally, also, variegated
with yellow particles. In this way, by degrees, the whole
surface crumbles away ; and the hill looks like a mass of
weatherworn pyrites on a large scale. Among the lamina
some are harder, of a green and red color. Pyrites I very
often found disseminated in the rock.
I now passed along the channels which the last violent
gullies of rain had worn in the crumbling rock, and, to my
great delight, found many specimens of the desired barytes,
mostly of an imperfect egg-shape, peeping out in several
places of the friable stone, some tolerably pure, and some
slightly mingled with the clay in which they were embedded.
That they have not been carried hither by external agency,
any one may convince himself at the first glance. Whether
they were contemporaneous with the schistous clay, or
whether they first arose from the swelling and dissolving of
the latter, is matter calling for further inquiry. Of the
specimens I found, the larger and smaller approximated to
an imperfect egg-shape : the smallest might be said to verge
upon irregular crystalline forms. The heaviest of the pieces
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 163
I brought away weighed seventeen loth (eight ounces and a
half). Loose in the same clay, I also found perfect crys-
tals of gypsum. Mineralogists will be able to point out
further peculiarities in the specimens I bring with me. And
I was now again loaded with stones ! I have packed up at
least half a quarter of a hundred- weight.
Oct. 20, 1786. In the night.
How much I should have still to say, were I to attempt to
confess to you all that has this beautiful day passed through
my mind ! But my wishes are more powerful than my
thoughts. I feel myself hurried irresistibly forward. It is
only with an effort that I can collect myself sufficiently to
attend to what is before me. And it seems as if Heaven
heard my secret prayer. Word has just been brought me,
that there is a vetturino going straight to Rome ; and so, the
day after to-morrow, I shall set out direct for that city. I
must, therefore, to-day and to-morrow, look after my affairs,
make all my little arrangements, and despatch my many
commissions.
Lugano on the Apennines,
Oct. 21, 1786. Evening.
Whether I to-day was driven from Bologna by myself, or
whether I have been ejected from it, I cannot say. Suffice
it, that I eagerly availed myself of an earlier opportunity of
quitting it. And so here I am at a wretched inn, in com-
pany with an officer of the Pope's army, who is going to
Perugia,, where he was born. In order to say something, as
I seated myself by his side in the two- wheeled carriage, I
paid him the compliment of remarking, that, as a German
accustomed to associate with soldiers, I found it very agreea-
ble to have to travel with an officer of the Pope. " Pray do
not," he replied, " be offended at what I am about to answer.
It is all very well for you to be fond of the military profes-
sion ; for in Germany, as I have heard, every thing is
military. But with regard to myself , although our service is
light enough, — so that in Bologna, where I am in garrison, I
can do just as I like, — still I heartily wish I were rid of this
jacket, and had the disposal of my father's little property.
But I am a younger son, and so must be content."
Oct. 22, 1786. Evening.
Here at Giredo, which also is a little paltry place on the
Apennines, I feel quite happy, knowing that I am advancing
Goethe— -F Vol 4
164 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
towards the gratification of my dearest wishes. To-day we
were joined by a riding party, — a gentleman and a lady,
an Englishman and a soi-disant. Their horses are beautiful ;
but they ride unattended by any servants, and the gentle-
man, as it appears, acts the part both of groom and valet-de-
cJiambre. Everywhere they find something to complain of.
To listen to them is like reading a few pages out of Archen-
holz's book.
To me the Apennines are a most remarkable portion of
the world. The great plains of the basin of the Po are fol-
lowed by a hilly tract which rises out of the bottom, in
order, after running between the two seas, to form the
southern extremity of the continent. If the hills had been
not quite so steep and high above the level of the sea, and
had not their directions crossed and recrossed each other as
they do, the ebb and flow of the tides in primeval times
might have exercised a greater and wider influence on them,
and might have washed over and formed extensive plains ; in
which case this would have been one of the most beautifu)
regions of this glorious clime, — somewhat higher than the
rest of it. As it is, however, it is a strong net of mountain-
ridges, interlacing each other in all directions. One often is
puzzled to know whither the waters will find their vent. If
the valleys were better filled up, and the bottoms flatter and
more irrigated, the land might be compared to Bohemia,
only that the mountains have in every respect a different
character. However, it must not for one moment be
thought of as a mountainous waste, but as a highly culti-
vated though hilly district. The chestnut grows very fine
here ; the wheat excellent, and that of this year's sowing is
already of a beautiful green. Along the roads are planted
evergreen oaks with their small leaves ; but around the
churches and chapels, the slim cj^press.
Perugia, Oct. 25, 1786.
Evening.
For two evenings I have not been writing. The inns on
the road were so wretchedly bad, that it was quite useless to
think of bringing out a sheet of paper. Moreover, I begin
to be a little puzzled to find any thing ; for, since quitting
Venice, the travelling-bag has got more and more into con-
fusion.
Early in the morning (at twenty-three o'clock, or about
ten of our reckoning) we left the region of the Apennines,
LETTERS FROM JTALY. 165
and saw Florence in an extensive valley, which is highly
cultivated, and sprinkled over with villas and houses without
end,
I ran rapidly over the city, the cathedral, the baptistery.
Here, again, a perfectly new and unknown world opened upon
me, on which, however, I will not further dwell, The gar-
dens of the Botoli are most delightfully situated. I hastened
out of them as fast as I had entered them.
In the city we see the proof of the prosperity of the gen-
erations who built it. The conviction is at once forced upon
us, that they must have enjoyed a long succession of wise
rulers. But, above all, one is struck with the beauty and
grandeur which distinguish all the public works and roads
and bridges in Tuscany. Every thing here is at once sub-
stantial and clean. Use and profit, not less than elegance, are
alike kept in view : everywhere we discern traces of the care
which is taken to preserve them. The cities of the Papal
States, on the contrar}*, only seem to stand because the earth
is unwilling to swallow them up.
The sort of country that I lately remarked the region of
the Apennines might have been, is what Tuscany really is.
As it lies so much lower, the ancient sea was able to do
its duty properly, and has thrown up here deep beds of
excellent marl. It is a light yellow hue, and easily worked.
They plough deep, retaining, however, most exactly the
ancient manner. Their ploughs have no wheels, and the
share is not movable. Bowed down behind his oxen,
the peasant pushes it down into the earth, and turns up
the soil. They plough over a field as many as five times,
and use but little dung, which they scatter with the hands.
After this, they sow the corn. Then they plough together
two of the smaller ridges into one, and so form deep trenches,
of such a nature that the rain-water easily runs off the lands
into them. When the corn is grown up on the ridges, they
can also pass along these trenches in order to weed it. This
way of tilling is a very sensible one wherever there is a fear
of over-moisture ; but why it is practised on these rich open
plains I cannot understand. This remark I just made at
Arezzo, where a glorious plain expands itself. It is impos-
sible to find cleaner fields anywhere. Not even a lump of
earth is to be seen ; all is as fine as if it had been sifted.
Wheat thrives here most luxuriantly, and the soil seems to
possess all the qualities required by its nature. Every
second year, beans are planted for the horses, who in this
166 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
country get no oats. Lupines are also much cultivated, which
at this season are beautifully green, being ripe in March.
The flax, too, is up. It stands the winter, and is rendered
more durable by frost.
The olive-trees are strange plants. They look very much
like willows : like them, also, they lose the heart of the wood,
and the bark splits. But still they have a greater appear-
ance of durability ; and one sees from the wood, of which
the grain is extremely fine, that it is a slow grower. The
foliage, too, resembles that of the willow, only the leaves on
the branches are thinner. All the hills around Florence are
covered with olive-trees and vines, between which grain is
sown ; so that every spot of ground may be made profitable.
Near Arezzo, and farther on, the fields are left more free. I
observed that they take little care to eradicate the ivy, which
is so injurious to the olive and the vine, although it would be
so easy to destroy it. There is not a meadow to be seen.
It is said that the Indian corn exhausts the soil. Since it has
been introduced, agriculture has suffered in its other crops.
I can well believe it with their scanty manuring.
Yesterday I took leave of my captain, with a promise of
visiting him at Bologna on my return. He is a true repre-
sentative of the majority of his countrymen. Here, however,
I would record a peculiarity which personally distinguished
him. As I often sat quiet, and lost in thought, he once ex-
claimed, " Che pensa? non deve mat pensar Vuomo, pen-
sa7ido s'invecchia; " which, being interpreted, is as much as
to say, " What are you thinking about? A man ought never
to think. Thinking makes one old." And now for another
apothegm of his: " Non deve fermarsi Vuomo in una sola
cosa, perche allora divien motto; bisogna aver mille cose, una
confusione nella testa;" in plain English, "A man ought
not to rivet his thoughts exclusively on any one thing : other-
wise he is sure to go mad. He ought to have in his head a
thousand things, a regular medley."
Certainly the good man could not know that the very thing
which made me so thoughtful was my having my head mazed
by a regular confusion of things, old and new. The follow-
ing anecdote will serve to elucidate still more clearly the
mental character of an Italian of this class. Having soon
discovered that I was a Protestant, he observed, after some
circumlocution, that he hoped I would allow him to ask me
a few questions ; for he had heard such strange things about
us Protestants, that he wished to know for a certainty what
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 167
to think of us. "May you," he said, "live with a pretty
girl without being married to her? do your priests allow you
to do so? " To this I replied, that " our priests are prudent
folk, who take no notice of such trifles. No doubt, if we were
to consult them upon such a matter, they would not permit it. ' '
— "Are you, then, not obliged to ask thein?" he exclaimed.
" Happy fellows ! as they do not confess you, the}" of course
do not find it out." Hereupon he gave vent, in many re-
proaches, to his discontent with his own priests, uttering at
the same time loud praises of our liberty. "But," he con-
tinued, "as regards confession: how stands it with you?
We are told that all men, even if they are not Christians,
must confess, but that inasmuch as many, from their obdu-
racy, are debarred from the right way, they nevertheless
make confession to an old tree ; which, indeed, is impious
and ridiculous enough, but yet serves to show, that at least
they recognize the necessity of confession." Upon this I
explained to him our Lutheran notions of confession, and
our practice concerning it. All this appeared to him very
easy, for he expressed an opinion that it was almost the
same as confessing to a tree. After a brief hesitation, he
begged of me very gravely to inform him correctly on another
point. He had, forsooth, heard from the mouth of his own
confessor (who, he said, was a truthful man) , that we Protest-
ants are at liberty to marry our own sisters ; which assuredly
is a chose un peu forte. As I denied this to be the case,
and attempted to give him a more favorable opinion of our
doctrine, he made no special remark on the latter, which
evidently appeared to him a very ordinary and every-day
sort of a thing, but turned aside my remarks by a new ques-
tion. " We have been assured," he observed, " that Fred-
erick the Great, who has won so many victories, even over
the faithful, and filled the world with his glory, — that he
whom every one takes to be a heretic is really a Catholic,
and has received a dispensation from the Pope to keep the
fact secret. For while, as is well known, he never enters
any of your churches, he diligently attends the true worship
in a subterranean chapel, though with a broken heart, be-
cause he dare not openly avow the holy religion, since, were
he to do so, his Prussians, who are a brutish people and
furious heretics, would no doubt murder him on the instant;
and to risk that would do no good to the cause. On these
grounds the Holy Father has given him permission to wor-
ship in secret, in return for which he quietly does as much
168 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
as possible to propagate and to favor the true and only sav-
ing faith." I allowed all this to pass, merely observing, a s
it was so great a secret, no one could be a witness to its
truth. The rest of our conversation was nearly of the same
cast ; so that I could not but admire the shrewd priests, who
sought to parry and to distort whatever was likely to en-
lighten or vary the dark outline of their traditional dogmas.
I left Perugia on a glorious morning, and felt the happi-
ness of being once more alone. The site of the city is
beautiful, and the view of the lake in the highest degree re-
freshing. These scenes are deeply impressed on my memory.
At first the road went downwards, then it entered a cheerful
valley enclosed on both sides by distant hills, till at last
Assisi lay before us.
Here, as I had learned from Palladio and Volckmann, a
noble Temple of Minerva, built in the time of Augustus, was
still standing, in perfect repair. At Madonna del Angelo,
therefore, I quitted my vetturino, leaving him to proceed by
himself to Foligno, and set off, in the face of a strong wind,
for Assisi ; for I longed for a foot- journey through a country
so solitary for me. 1 left on my left the vast mass of
churches, piled Babel-wise one over another (in one of which
rest the remains of the holy ISt. Francis of Assisi), with
aversion ; for I thought to myself, that the people who assem-
bled in them were mostly of the same stamp as my captain
and travelling-companion. Having asked of a good-looking
youth the way to the Delia Minerva, he accompanied me to
the top of the town, for it lies on the side of a hill. At
last we reached what is properly the old town ; and, behold !
before nry eyes stood the noble edifice, — the first complete
memorial of antiquity that I had ever seen. A modest tem-
ple, as befitting so small a town, and yet so perfect, so well
conceived, that anywhere it would be an ornament. More-
over, in these matters, how grand were the ancients in the
choice of their sites ! The temple stands about halfway
up the mountain, where two hills meet on the level place
which is to this day called the Piazza. This itself slightly
rises, and is intersected by the meeting of four roads, which
make a somewhat dilated St. Andrew's cross. Probably the
houses which are now opposite the temple, and block up
the view from it, were not standing there in anoient times.
If the}' were removed, we should have a south prospect over
a rich and fertile country, and at the same time the Temple
of Minerva would be visible from all sides. The line of the
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 169
roads is, in all probability, very ancient, since they follow
the shape and inclination of the hill. The temple does not
stand in the centre of the flat ; but its site is so arranged,
that the traveller approaching from Rome catches a fine
foreshortened view of it. To give an idea of it, it is neces-
sary to draw, not only the building itself, but also its happily
chosen site.
Looking at the facade, I could not sufficiently admire the
genius-like identity of design which the architects have here
as elsewhere maintained. The order is Corinthian, the inter-
columnar spaces being somewhat above two modules. The
bases of the columns and the plinths seem to rest on pedes-
tals, but it is only an appearance. The socle is cut through
in five places ; and, at each of these, five steps ascend be
tween the columns, and bring you to a level, on which prop-
erly the columns rest, and from which, also, you enter the
temple. The bold idea of cutting through the socle was
happily hazarded ; for, as the temple is situated on a hill,
the flight of steps must otherwise have been carried up to
such a height as would have inconveniently narrowed the
area of the temple. As it is, however, it is impossible to
determine how many steps there originally were ; for, with
the exception of a very few, they are all choked up with
dirt, or paved over. Most reluctantly did I tear myself from
the sight, and determined to call the attention of architects
to this noble edifice, in order that an accurate draught of it
may be furnished. For what a sorry thing tradition is, I
here again find occasion to remark. Palladio, whom I trust
in every matter, gives, indeed, a sketch of this temple. But
certainly he never can have seen it himself : for he gives it
real pedestals above the area, by which means the columns
appear disproportionately high, and the result is a sort of
unsightly Palmyrene monstrosity ; whereas, in fact, its look
is so full of repose and beauty as to satisfy both the eye and
the mind. The impression which the sight of this edifice left
upon me is not to be expressed, and will bring forth imper-
ishable fruits. It was a beautiful evening, and I now turned
to descend the mountain. As I was proceeding along the
Roman road, calm and composed, suddenly I heard behind
me some rough voices in dispute. I fancied that it was only
the Sbirri, whom I had previously noticed in the town. I
therefore went on without care, but still with my ears listen-
ing to what they might be saying behind me. I soon became
aware that I was the object of their remarks. Four men of
170
LETTERS FROM ITALY.
this body (two of whom were armed with guns) passed me
in the rudest way possible, muttering to each other, and,
turning back after a few steps, suddenly surrounded me.
They demanded my name, and what I was doing there. I
said that I was a stranger, and had travelled on foot to
Assisi, while my vetturino had gone on to Foligno. It ap-
peared to them very improbable that any one should pay
for a carriage, and yet travel on foot. They asked me if I
had been visiting the Gran Convento. I answered " No,"
but assured them that I knew the building of old ; but, being
an architect, my chief object this time was simply to obtain
a sight of the Maria della Minerva, which, they must be
aware, was an architectural model. This they could not con-
tradict, but seemed to take it very ill that I had not paid a
visit to the saint, and avowed their suspicion that probably
my business was to smuggle contraband goods. I pointed
out to them how ridiculous it was that a man who walked
openly through the streets, alone, and without packs, and
with empty pockets, should be taken for a contrabandist.
However, upon this I offered to return to the town with
them, and to go before the podestdt, and, by showing my
papers, prove to him that I was an honest traveller. Upon
this they muttered together for a while, and then expressed
their opinion that it was unnecessary ; and, as I behaved
throughout with coolness and gravity, they at last left me,
and turned towards the town. I looked after them. As
these rude churls moved on in the foreground, behind them
the beautiful Temple of Minerva once more caught my eye
to soothe and console me with its sight. I turned then to
the left, to look at the heavy Cathedral of St. Francisco, and
was about to continue my way, when one of the unarmed
Sbirri, separating himself from the rest, came up to me in a
quiet and friendly manner. Saluting me, he said, " Signior
stranger, you ought at least to give me something to drink
your health ; for I assure you, that, from the very first, I took
you to be an honorable man, and loudly maintained this
opinion in opposition to my comrades. They, however, are
hot-headed and over-hasty fellows, and have no knowledge
of the world. You yourself must have observed that I was the
first to allow the force of, and to assent to, 3'our remarks."
I praised him on this score, and urged him to protect all
honorable strangers who might henceforward come to Assisi
for the sake either of religion or of art, and especially all
architects who might wish to do honor to the town by
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 171
measuring and sketching the Temple of Minerva, since a
correct drawing or engraving of it had never yet been taken.
If he were to accompany them, they would, I assured them,
give him substantial proofs of their gratitude ; and with these
words I put into his hand some silver, which, as exceeding
his expectation, delighted him above measure. He begged
me to pay a second visit to the town ; remarking that I
ought not on any account to miss the festival of the saint,
on which I might, with the greatest safety, delight and amuse
myself. Indeed if, being a good-looking fellow, I should
wish to be introduced to the fair sex, he assured me that the
prettiest and •most respectable ladies would willingly receive
me, or any stranger, upon his recommendation. He took his
leave, promising to remember me at vespers before the tomb
of the saint, and to offer up a prayer for my safety throughout
my travels. Upon this we parted, and most delighted was I
to be again alone with nature and myself. The road to
Foligno was one of the most beautiful and agreeable walks
that I ever took. For four full hours I walked along the side
of a mountain, having on my left a richly cultivated valley.
It is but sorry travelling with a vetturino : it is always best
to follow at one's ease on foot. In this way had I travelled
from Ferrara to this place. As regards the arts and mechani-
cal invention, on which, however, the ease and comforts of
life mainly depend, Italy, so highly favored by nature, is
very far behind all other countries. The carriage of the
vetturino, which is still called " sedia," or " seat," certainly
took its origin from the ancient litters drawn by mules, in
which females and aged persons, or the highest dignitaries,
used to be carried about. Instead of the hinder mule, on
whose yoke the shafts used to rest, two wheels have been
placed beneath the carriage, and no further improvement has
been thought of. In this way one is still jolted along, just
as they were centuries ago. It is the same with their houses
and every thing else.
If one wishes to see realized the poetic idea of men in
primeval times, spending most of their lives beneath the open
heaven, and only occasionally, when compelled by necessity,
retiring for shelter into the caves, he must visit the houses
hereabouts, especially those in the rural districts, which are
quite in the style and fashion of caves. Such an incredible
absence of care do the Italians evince in order not to grow
old by thinking. With unheard of frivolity, they neglect to
make any preparation for the long nights of winter, and in
172 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
consequence, for a considerable portion of the year, suffer like
dogs. Here in Foligno, in the midst of a perfectly Homeric
household, — the whole family being gathered together in
a large hall, round a fire on the hearth, with plenty of run-
ning backward and forward, and of scolding and shouting,
while supper is going on at a long table like that in the pic-
ture of the Wedding-Feast at Cana, — I seize an opportunity
of writing this, as one of the family has ordered an inkstand
to be brought me, — a luxury, which, judging from other
circumstances, I did not look for. These pages, however,
tell too plainly of the cold, and of the inconvenience of my
writing-table.
I am now made only too sensible of the rashness of travel*
ling in this country without a servant, and without providing
one's self well with every necessary. What with the ever-
changing currency, the vetturini, the extortion, the wretched
inns, one who, like nryself, is travelling alone for the first
time in this country, hoping to find uninterrupted pleasure,
will be sure to find himself miserably disappointed every day.
However, I wished to see the country at any cost ; and, even
if I must be dragged to Rome on Ixion's wheel, I shall not
complain.
Terni, Oct. 27, 1786.
Evening.
Again sitting in a " cave," which, only a year before, suf-
fered from an earthquake. The little town lies in the midst
of a rich country (for taking a circuit round the city I
explored it with pleasure) , at the beginning of a beautiful
plain which lies between two ridges of limestone hills.
Terni, like Bologna, is situated at the foot of the mountain
range.
Almost ever since the papal officer left me, I have had a
priest for my companion. The latter appears better con-
tented with his profession than the soldier, and is ready to
enlighten me, whom he very soon saw to be a heretic, by
answering any question I might put to him concerning the
ritual and other matters of his church. By thus mixing
continually with new characters, I thoroughly obtain my
object. It is absolutely necessary to hear the people talking
together, if you would form a true and lively image of the
whole country. The Italians are in the strangest manner
possible rivals and adversaries of each other. Every one is
strongly enthusiastic in the praise of his own town and state.
They cannot bear with one another : and, even in the same
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 173
city^ the different ranks nourish perpetual feuds, and all this
with a profoundly vivacious and most obvious passionate-
ness : so that, while they expose one another's pretensions,
they keep up an amusing comedy all day long. And yet
they are quick at understanding others, and seem quite aware
how impossible it is for a stranger to enter into their ways
and thoughts.
I ascended to Spoleto, and went along the aqueduct, which
serves also for a bridge from one mountain to another. The
ten brick arches which span the valley have quietly stood
there through centuries ; and the water still flows into Spoleto,
and reaches its remotest quarters. This is the third great
work of the ancients that I have seen, and still the same
grandeur of conception. A second nature made to work for
social objects, — such was their architecture. And so arose
the amphitheatre, the temple, and the aqueduct. Now at
last I can understand the justice of my hatred for all arbi-
trary caprices, as, for instance, the winter casts on white
stone — a nothing about nothing — a monstrous piece of
confectionery ornament ; and so also with a thousand other
things. But all that is now dead ; for whatever does not
possess a true intrinsic vitality cannot live long, and can
neither be nor ever become great.
What entertainment and instruction have I not had cause
to be thankful for during these eight last weeks ! but in fact
it has also cost me some trouble. I kept my eyes continually
open, and strove to stamp deep on my mind the images of
all I saw. That was all : judge of them I could not, even if
it had been in my power.
San Crocefisso, a singular chapel on the roadside, did not
look, to my mind, like the remains of a temple which had
once stood on the same site. It was evident that columns,
pillars, and pediments had been found, and incongruously
put together, not stupidly, but madly. It does not admit of
description : however, there is somewhere or other an en-
graving of it.
And so it may seem strange to some that we should go on
troubling ourselves to acquire an idea of antiquity, although
we have nothing before us but ruins, out of which we must
first painfully reconstruct the very thing we wish to form an
idea of.
With what is called "classical ground" the case stands
rather different. Here, if only we do not go to work fanci-
fully, but take the ground really as it is, then we shall have
174 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
the decisive arena which moulded more or less the greatest of
events. Accordingly I have hitherto actively employed my
geological and agricultural eye to the suppressing of fancy
and sensibility, in order to gain for myself an unbiassed and
distinct notion of the locality. By such means history fixes
itself on our minds with a marvellous vividness, and the effect
is utterly inconceivable to another. It is something of this
sort that makes me feel so very great a desire to read Tacitus
in Rome.
I must not, however, forget the weather. As I descended
the Apennines from Bologna, the clouds gradually retired
towards the north ; afterwards they changed their course,
and moved towards Lake Trasimene. Here they continued to
hang, though perhaps they may have moved a little farther
southward. Instead, therefore, of the great plain of the Po,
sending, as it does during the summer, all its clouds to the
Tyrolese mountains, it now sends a part of them towards the
Apennines : from thence, perhaps, comes the rainy season.
They are now beginning to gather the olives. It is done
here with the hand : in other places they are beat down with
sticks. If winter comes on before all are gathered, the rest
are allowed to remain on the trees till spring. Yesterday
I noticed in a very strong soil the largest and oldest trees* I
have ever yet seen.
The favor of the Muses, like that of the demons, is not
always shown us in a suitable moment. Yesterday I felt-
inspired to undertake a work which at present would be ill-
timed. Approaching nearer and nearer to the centre of
Romanism, surrounded by Roman Catholics, boxed up with
a priest in a sedan, and striving anxiously to observe and to
study without prejudice true nature and noble art, I have
arrived at a vivid conviction that all traces of original Chris-
tianity are extinct here. Indeed, while I tried to bring it
before my mind in its purity, as we see it recorded in the
Acts of the Apostles, I could not help shuddering to think
of the shapeless, not to say grotesque, mass of heathenism
which heavily overlies its benign beginnings. Accordingly,
the Wandering Jew again occurred to me as having been
a witness of all this wonderful development and envelop-
ment, and as having lived to experience so strange a state
of things, that Christ himself, when he shall come a second
time to gather in his harvest, will be in danger of being
crucified a second time. The legend " Venio iterum cruci-
figi" was to serve me as the material of this catastrophe.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 175
Dreams of this kind floated before me ; for, out of impa-
tience to get onwards, I used to sleep in my clothes. And I
know of nothing more beautiful than to wake before dawn,
and, between sleeping and waking, to seat one's self in one's
car, and travel on to meet the day.
Citta Castellana, Oct. 28, 1786.
I will not fail you this last evening. It is not yet eight
o'clock, and all are already in bed: so I can for a good
a last time " think over what is gone by, and revel in the
anticipation of what is so shortly to come. This has been
throughout a bright and glorious day, — the morning very
cold, the day clear and warm, the evening somewhat windy,
but very beautiful.
It was very late when we set off from Terni; and we
reached STarni before day, and so I did not see the bridge.
Valleys and lowlands; now near, now distant prospects; a
rich country, but all of limestone, and not a trace of any
other formation.
Otricoli is built on an alluvial gravel-hill thrown up by one
of the ancient inundations. It is built of lava brought from
the other side of the river.
As soon as one is over the bridge, one finds one's self in a
volcanic region, either of real lava, or of the native rock
changed by the heat and by fusion. You ascend a moun-
tain, which you might set down at once for gray lava. It con-
tains many white crystals of the shape of garnets. The
causeway from the heights to the Citta Castellana is like-
wise composed of this stone, now worn extremely smooth.
The city is built on a bed of volcanic tufa, in which I thought
I could discover ashes, pumice-stone, and pieces of lava.
The view from the castle is extremely beautiful. Soracte
stands out and alone in the prospect most picturesquely. It
is probably a limestone mountain of the same formation as
the Apennines. The volcanic region is far lower than the
Apennines ; and it is only the streams tearing through it that
have formed out of it hills and rocks, which, with their over-
hanging ledges and other marked features of the landscape,
furnish most glorious objects for the painter.
To-morrow evening and I shall be in Kome. Even yet I
can scarcely believe it possible. And, if this wish is fulfilled,
what shall I wish for afterwards ? I know not, except it be
that I may safely stand in my little pheasant-loaded canoe,
and may find all my friends well, happy, and unchanged,
176 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
ROME.
Rome, Nov. 1, 1786.
At last I can speak out, and greet my friends with good
humor. May they pardon my secrecy, and what has been,
as it were, a subterranean journey hither. For scarcely to
myself did I venture to say whither I was hurrying. Even
on the road I often had my fears ; and it was only as I
passed under the Porta del Popolo that I felt certain of
reaching Rome.
And now let me also say that a thousand times, ay, at
all times, do I think of } T ou, in the neighborhood of these
objects which I never believed I should visit alone. It was
only when I saw every one bound, body and soul, to the
north, and all longing for those countries utterly extinct
among them, that I resolved to undertake the long, solitary
journey, and to seek that centre towards which I was at-
tracted by an irresistible impulse. Indeed, for the few last
years it had become with me a kind of disease, which could
only be cured by the sight and presence of the absent object.
Now, at length, I may venture to confess the truth. It
reached at last such a height that I durst not look at a
Latin book, or even an engraving of Italian scenery. The
craving to see this country was over-ripe. Now it is sat-
isfied. Friends and country have once more become right
dear to me, and the return to them is a wished-for object ;
nay, the more ardently desired, the more firmly I feel con-
vinced that I bring with me too many treasures for personal
enjoyment or private use, but such as through life may
serve others, as well as myself, for edification and guidance.
Boats, Nov. 1, 1786.
Well, at last I am arrived in this great capital of the
world. If, fifteen years ago, I could have seen it in good
company, with a well-informed guide, I should have thought
myself very fortunate. But as it was to be that I should
thus see it alone, and with my own eyes^ it is well that this
joy has fallen to my lot so late in life.
Over the mountains of the Tyrol I have as good as flown.
Verona, Vicenza, Padua, and Venice I have carefully
looked at ; hastily glanced at Ferrara, Cento, Bologna ; and
scarcely seen Florence at all. My anxiety to reach Rome
was so great, and it so grew with me every moment, that
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 177
to think of stopping anywhere was quite out of the question.
Even in Florence, I only staid three hours. Now I am
here at my ease, and, as it would seem, shall be tranquillized
for my whoie life ; for we may almost say that a new life
"begins when a man once sees with his own eyes all that
before he has but partially heard or read of. All the
dreams of my youth I now behold realized before me. The
subjects of the first engravings I ever remember seeing (sev-
eral views of Rome were hung up in an ante-room of my
father's house) stand bodily before my sight, and all that
I had long been acquainted with through paintings or draw-
ings, engravings or woodcuts, plaster casts and cork models,
are here collectively presented to my eye. Wherever I go I
find some old acquaintance in this new world. It is all just
as I had thought it, and yet all is new. And just the same
might I remark of my own observations and my own ideas.
I have not gained any new thoughts ; but the older ones
have become so defined, so vivid, and so coherent, that they
may almost pass for new ones.
When Pygmalion's Elisa, which he had shaped entirely in
accordance with his wishes, and to which he had given as
much of truth and nature as an artist can, moved at last
towards him, and said, "It is I ! " — how different was the
living form from the chiselled stone !
In a moral sense, too, how salutary it is for me to live
a while among a wholly sensual people, of whom so much
has been said and written, and of whom every stranger
judges according to the standard he brings with him. I can
excuse every one who blames and reproaches them. They
stand too far apart from us, and for a stranger to associate
with them is difficult and expensive.
Rome, Nov. 3, 1786.
One of the chief motives with which I had deluded myself
for hurrying to Rome was the Festival of All-Saints ; for I
thought within myself, if Rome pays so much honor to a
single saint, what will she not show to them all ! But I was
under a mistake. The Roman Church has never been very
fond of celebrating with remarkable pomp any common fes-
tival : and so she leaves every order to celebrate in silence
the especial memory of its own patron ; for the name " festi-
val," and the day especially set apart to each saint, is prop-
erly the occasion when each receives his highest commemo-
ration.
178 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
Yesterday, however, which was the Festival of All-Souls,
things went better with me. This commemoration is kept by
the Pope in his private chapel on the Quirinal. I hastened
with Tischbein to the Monte Cavallo. The piazza before the
palace has something altogether singular, so irregular is it,
and yet so grand and so beautiful ! I now cast eyes upon the
Colossuses ! Neither eye nor mind was large enough to take
them in. Ascending a broad flight of steps, we followed the
crowd through a splendid and spacious hall. In this ante-
chamber, directly opposite to the chapel, and in sight of the
numerous apartments, one feels somewhat strange to find
one's self beneath the same roof with the vicar of Christ.
The office had begun. Pope and cardinals were already
in the church, — the Holy Father, of a highly handsome and
dignified form ; the cardinals, of different ages and figures.
I was seized with a strange, longing desire that the head of
the Church might open his golden mouth, and, speaking with
rapture of the ineffable bliss of the happy soul, set us all, too,
in a rapture. But as I only saw him moving backward and
forward before the altar, and turning, now to this side, and
now to that, and only muttering to himself, and conducting
himself just like a common parish priest, the original sin
of Protestantism revived within me, and the well-known
and ordinary mass for the dead had no charms for me. For
most assuredly Christ himself — he who, in his youthful days
and even as a child, excited men's wonder by his oral
exposition of Scripture — did never thus teach and work in
silence ; but, as we learn from the Gospels, he was ever
ready to utter his wise and spiritual words. What, I asked
myself, would he say, were he to come in among us, and
see his image on earth thus mumbling, and sailing backward
and forward? The " Venio iterum crucifigi " again crossed
my mind, and I nudged my companion to come out into the
freer air of the vaulted and painted hall.
Here we found a crowd of persons attentively observing
the rich paintings ; for the Festival of All-Souls is also the
holiday of all the artists in Rome. Not only the chapel, but
the whole palace also, with all its rooms, is for many hours
on this day open and free to every one ; no fees being
required, and the visitors not being liable to be hurried on
by the chamberlain.
The paintings on the walls engaged my attention, and I
now formed a new acquaintance with some excellent artists
whose very names had hitherto been almost unknown to me.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 1T9
For instance, I now, for the first time, learned to appreciate
and to love the cheerful Carlo Maratti.
But chiefly welcome to me were the masterpieces of the
artists of whose style and manner I already had some
impression. I saw with amazement the wonderful Petro-
nilla of Guercino, which was formerly in St. Peter's, where
a mosaic copy now stands in the place of the original. The
body of the saint is lifted out of the grave ; and the same
person, just re-animated, is being received into the heights
of heaven by a celestial youth. Whatever may be alleged
against this double action, the picture is invaluable.
Still more struck was I with a picture of Titian's. It
throws into the shade all I have hitherto seen. Whether my
eye is more practised, or whether it is really the most excel-
lent, I cannot determine. An immense mass-robe, stiff with
embroidery and gold-embossed figures, envelops the dignified
frame of a bishop. With a massive pastoral staff in his left
hand, he is gazing with a look of rapture towards heaven,
while he holds in his right a book, out of which he seems to
have imbibed the divine enthusiasm with which he is inspired.
Behind him a beautiful maiden, holding a palm-branch in her
hand, and full of affectionate sympathy, is looking over his
shoulder into the open book. A grave old man on the right
stands quite close to the book, but appears to pay no atten-
tion to it. The key in his hand suggests the possibility of his
familiar acquaintance with its contents. Over against this
group a naked, well-made youth, wounded with an arrow,
and in chains, is looking straight before him, with a slight
expression of resignation in his countenance. In the inter-
mediate space stand two monks, bearing a cross and lilies,
and devoutly looking up to heaven. Then in the clear
upper space is a semicircular wall, which encloses them all.
Above moves a Madonna in highest glory, sympathizing
with all that passes below. The young, sprightly child on
her bosom, with a radiant countenance, is holding out a
crown, and seems, indeed, on the point of casting it down.
On both sides, angels are floating by, who hold in their hands
crowns in abundance. High above all the figures, and even
the triple-rayed aureola, soars the celestial dove, as at once
the centre and finish of the whole group.
We said to ourselves, "Some ancient holy legend must
have furnished the subject of this picture in order that these
various and ill-assorted personages should have been brought
together so artistically and so significantly." We ask not,
180 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
however, why and wherefore : we take it all for granted, and
only wonder at the inestimable piece of art. Less unintelligi-
ble, but still mysterious, is a fresco of Guido's in this chapel.
A virgin, in childish beauty, loveliness, and innocence, is
seated, and quietly sewing. Two angels stand by her side,
waiting to do her service at the slightest bidding. Youthful
innocence and industry, the beautiful picture seems to tell
us, are guarded and honored by the heavenly beings. No
legend is wanting here, — no story needed to furnish an ex-
planation.
Now, however, to cool a little my artistic enthusiasm, a
merry incident occurred. I observed that several of the Ger-
man artists, who came up to Tischbein as an old acquaint-
ance, after staring at me, went their ways again. Having
left me for a few moments, one returned, and said, "We
have had a good joke. The report that you were in Rome
had spread among us, and the attention of us artists was
called to the one unknown stranger. Now, there was one of
our body who used for a long time to assert that he had met
you, nay, he asseverated he had lived on very friendly
terms with you, — a fact which we were not so ready to
believe. However, we have just called upon him to look at
you, and solve our doubts. He at once stoutly denied that
it was you, and said that in the stranger there was not a
trace of your person or mien." So, then, at least, our
incognito is for the moment secure, and will afford us some-
thing hereafter to laugh at.
I now mixed at my ease with the troop of artists, and
asked them who were the painters of several pictures whose
style of art was unknown to me. At last I was particularly
struck by a picture representing St. George killing the dragon
and setting free the virgin. No one could tell me whose it
was. Upon this, a little, modest man, who up to this time
had not opened his mouth, came foiward, and told me it was
by Pordenone, the Venetian painter ; and that it was one of
the best of his paintings, and displayed all his merits. I
was now well able to explain why I liked it. The picture
pleased me because I possessed some knowledge of the
Venetian school, and was better able to appreciate the excel-
lences of its best masters.
The artist, my informant, was Heinrich Meyer, a Swiss, who
for some years had been studying at Rome with a friend of the
name of Rolla, and who had taken excellent drawings in Spain
of antique busts, and was well read in the history of art.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 181
Rome, Nov. 5, 1786.
I have now been here seven days, and have, by degrees,
formed in my mind a general idea of the city. We go dili-
gently backward and forward. While I am thus making
myself acquainted with the plan of old and new Rome, view-
ing the ruins and the buildiugs, visiting this and that villa,
the grandest and most remarkable objects are slowly and
leisurely contemplated. I do but keep my eyes open, and
see, and then go and come again ; for it is only in Rome one
can duly prepare himself for Rome.
It must, however, be confessed that it is a sad and melan-
choly business to prick and track out ancient Rome in new
Rome : however, it must be done, and we may hope at least
for an incalculable gratification. We meet with traces both
of majesty and of ruin, which alike surpass all conception.
What the barbarians spared, the builders of new Rome made
havoc of.
When one thus beholds an object two thousand years old
and more, but so manifoldly and thoroughly altered by the
changes of time, but sees, nevertheless, the same soil, the
same mountains, and often, indeed, the same walls and
columns, one becomes, as it were, a contemporary of the
great counsels of fortune ; and thus it becomes difficult for
the observer to trace from the beginning Rome following
Rome, and not only new Rome succeeding the old, but also
the several epochs of both old and new in succession. I
endeavor, first of all, to grope my way alone through the
obscurer parts ; for this is the only plan by which one can
hope fully and completely to turn to use the excellent intro-
ductory works which have been written from the fifteenth
century to the present day. The first artists and scholars
have occupied their whole lives with these objects.
And this vastness has a strangely tranquillizing effect upon
you in Rome, while you pass from place to place in order to
visit the most remarkable objects. In other places one has
to search for what is important : here one is oppressed and
borne down with numberless phenomena. Wherever one
goes and casts a look around, the eye is at once struck with
some landscape, forms of every kind and style ; palaces and
ruins, gardens and statuary, distant views of villas, cottages
and stables, triumphal arches and columns, often crowding
so close together, that they might all be sketched on a single
sheet of paper. He ought tc have a hundred hands to write,
for what can a single pen do here? And besides, by the
182 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
evening one is quite weary and exhausted with the day's
seeing and admiring.
Rome, Nov. 7, 1786.
But my friends must pardon me, if in future I am found
chary of words. During travel one usually rakes together
all that he meets on his way : every day brings something
new, and he then hastens to reflect upon and judge of it.
Here, however, we come into a very great school indeed,
where every day says so much, that we cannot venture to
say any thing of the day itself. Indeed, people would do
well, if, tarrying here for years together, they observed a
while a Pythagorean silence.
I am very well. The weather, as the Romans say, is
brutto. The south wind, the sirocco, is blowing, and brings
with it every day more or less of rain. For my part, I do not
find the weather disagreeable : such as it is, it is warmer than
the rainy days of summer are with us.
The more I become acquainted with Tischbein's talents, as
well as his principles and views of art, the higher I appre-
ciate and value them. He has laid before me his drawings
and sketches. They have great merit, and are full of high
promise. His visit to Bodmer led him to fix his thoughts
on the infancy of the human race, when man found himself
standing on the earth, and had to solve the problem how he
must best fulfil his destiny of being the lord of creation.
As a suggestive introduction to a series of illustrations of
this subject, he has attempted symbolically to vindicate the
high antiquity of the world. Mountains overgrown with
noble forests, ravines worn out by water-courses, burnt-out
volcanoes still faintly smoking. In the foreground the
mighty stock of a patriarchal oak still remains in the ground,
on whose half-bared roots a deer is trying the strength of
his horns, — a conception as fine as it is beautifully exe-
cuted.
In another most remarkable piece he has painted man
yoking the horse, and by his superior skill, if not strength,
bringing all the other creatures of the earth, the air, and the
water, under his dominion. The composition is of extraordi-
nary beauty : when finished in oils, it cannot fail of producing
a great effect. A drawing of it must, at any cost, be secured
for Weimar. When this is finished, he purposes to paint an
assembly of old men, aged, and experienced in council, in
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 183
which he intends to introduce the portraits of living person-
ages. At present, however, he is sketching away with the
greatest enthusiasm at a battle-piece. Two bodies of cav-
alry are fighting with equal courage and resolution : between
them yawns an awful chasm, which but few horses would
attempt to clear. The arts of defensive warfare are useless
here. A wild resolve, a bold attack, a successful leap, or
else to be hurled in the abyss below ! This picture will
afford him an opportunity to display in a very striking
manner his knowledge of horses and of their make and
movements.
Now, it is Tischbein's wish to have these sketches (and a
series of others to follow, or to be intercalated between them)
connected together by a poem, which may serve to explain
the drawings, and, by giving them a definite context, may
lend to them both a body and a charm.
The idea is beautiful ; only the artist and the poet must be
many years together in order to carry out and to execute
such a work.
The Loggie of Raphael, and the great pictures of the
School of Athens, etc., I have now seen for the first and
only time ; so that for me to judge of them at present is like
having to make out and to judge of Homer from some half-
obliterated and much-injured manuscript. The gratification
of the first impression is incomplete : it is only when they
have been carefully studied and examined, one by one, that
the enjoyment becomes perfect. The best preserved are the
paintings on the ceilings of the Loggie. They are as fresh as
if painted yesterday. The subjects are symbolical. Very
few, however, are by Raphael's own hand ; but they are ex-
cellently executed, after his designs and under his eye.
Many a time, in years past, did I entertain the strange
whim, ardently to wish that I might one day be taken to
Italy by some well-educated man, — by some Englishman
well learned in art and in history. And now it has all been
brought about much better than I could have anticipated.
Tischbein has been living here long as a sincere friend to
me, and during his stay has always cherished the wish of
being able to show me Rome one day. Our intimacy is old
by letter, though new by presence. Where could I have met
with a worthier guide? And, if my time is limited, I will at
least learn and enjoy as much as possible. And yet, all this
notwithstanding, I clearly foresee, that, when I leave Rome..
I shall wish that I were coming to it.
184 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
Rome, Nov. 8, 1786.
My strange and perhaps whimsical incognito proves use-
ful to me in many ways that I never should have thought of.
As every one thinks himself in duty bound to ignore who I
am, and consequently never ventures to speak to me of my-
self and my works, they have no alternative left them but to
speak of themselves, or of the matters in which they are most
interested ; and in this way I become circumstantially informed
of the occupations of each, and of every thing remarkable that
is either taken in hand or produced. Hofrath Reiffenstein
good-naturedly humors this whim of mine. As, however, for
special reasons, he could not bear the name I had assumed,
he immediately made a baron of me ; and I am now called the
Baron gegen Rondanini uber (" the baron who lives opposite
to the palace Rondanini " ) . This designation is sufficiently
precise, especially as the Italians are accustomed to speak of
people either by their Christian names, or else by some nick-
name : in short, I have gained my object ; and I escape the
dreadful annoyance of having to give to everybody an ac-
count of myself and my works.
Rome, Nov. 9, 1786.
I frequently stand still a moment to survey, as it were, the
heights I have already won. With much delight I look back
to Venice, that grand creation that sprang out of the bosom
of the sea, like Minerva out of the head of Jupiter. In Rome
the Rotunda, both by its exterior and interior, has moved me
to offer a willing homage to its magnificence. In St. Peter's
I learned to understand how art, no less than nature, anni-
hilates the artificial measures and dimensions of man. And
in the same way the Apollo Belvedere also has again drawn
me out of reality. Foi\ as even the most correct engravings
furnish no adequate idea of these buildings, so the case is
the same with respect to the marble original of this statue
as compared with the plaster models of it, which, however,
I formerly used to look upon as beautiful.
Rome, Nov. 10, 1786.
Here I am now living with a calmness and tranquillity to
which I have for a long while been a stranger. My practice
to see and take all things as they are, my fidelity in letting
the eye be my light, my perfect renunciation of all preten-
sion, have again come to my aid, and make me calmly but
most intensely happy. Every day has its fresh, remarkable
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 185
object ; every day its new, grand, unequalled paintings, and
a whole which a man may long think of and dream of, but
which, with all his power of imagination, he can never
reach.
Yesterday I was at the Pyramid of Cestius, and in the
evening on the Palatine, on the top of which are the ruins
of the Palace of the Ceesars, which stand there like walls of
rock. Of all this, however, no idea can be conveyed. In
truth, there is nothing little here, although, indeed, occa-
sionally something to find fault with, — something more or
less absurd in taste ; and yet even this partakes of the uni-
versal grandeur of all around.
When, however, I return to myself, as every one so readi-
ly does on all occasions, I discover within me a feeling which
affords me infinite delight, which, indeed, I even venture to
express. Whoever here looks around with earnestness, and
has eyes to see, must become in a measure solid : he can-
not but apprehend an idea of solidity with a vividness which
is nowhere else possible.
The mind becomes, as it were, primed with capacit}', with
an earnestness without severity, and with a definiteness of
character with joy. With me, at least, it seems as if I had
never before so rightly estimated the things of the world as
I do here. I rejoice when I think of the blessed effects of
all this on the whole of my future being. And, let me jum-
ble together the things as I may, order will somehow come
into them. I am not here to enjoy myself after my own
fashion, but to busy myself with the great objects around,
to learn, and to improve myself ere I am forty years old.
Rome, Nov. 11, 1786.
Yesterday I visited the nymph JEgeria, and then the Hip-
podrome of Caracalla, the ruined tombs along the Via Appia,
and the tomb of Metella, which is the first to give one a true
idea of what solid masonry really is. These men worked
for eternity. All causes of decay were calculated, except
the rage of the spoiler, which nothing can resist. Right heart-
ily did I wish you had been there. The remains of the
principal aqueduct are highly venerable. How beautiful and
grand a design, — to supply a whole people with water by so
vast a structure ! In the evening we came upon the Coli-
seum, when it was already twilight. When one looks at it,
all else seems little. The edifice is so vast, that one cannot
hold the image of it in one's soul: in memory we think it
186 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
smaller, and then return to it again to find it every time
greater than before.
Frascati, Nov. 15.
The company are all in bed, and I am writing with Indian-
ink, which they use for drawing. We have had two beau-
tiful days, without rain, warm and genial sunshine ; so that
summer is scarcely missed. The country around is very
pleasant. The village lies on the side of a hill, or rather of
a mountain ; and at every step the draughtsman comes upon
the most glorious objects. The prospect is unbounded.
Rome lies before } 7 ou ; and beyond it, on the right, is the
sea, the mountains of Tivoli, and so on. In this delight-
ful region, country houses are built expressly for pleasure ;
and, as the ancient Romans had here their villas, so, for cen-
turies past, their rich and haughty successors have planted
country residences on all the loveliest spots. For two days
we have been wandering about here, and almost every step
has brought us upon something new and attractive.
And yet it is hard to say whether the evenings have not
passed still more agreeably than the days. As soon as our
stately hostess has placed on the round table the bronzed
lamp with its three wicks, and wished us felicissimanotte,
we all form a circle round it ; and the views are produced
which have been drawn and sketched during the day. Their
merits are discussed, opinions are taken whether the objects
might or not have been taken more favorably, whether their
true characters have been caught, and whether all requisi-
tions of a like general nature, which may justly be looked
for in a first sketch, have been fulfilled.
Hofrath Reiffenstein, by his judgment and authority, con-
trives to give order to, and to conduct, these sittings. But
the merit of this delightful arrangement is due to Philipp
Hackert, who has a most excellent taste, both in drawing
and finishing views from nature. Artists and dilettanti,
men and women, old and young, — he would let no one rest,
but stimulated every one to make the attempt, at any rate,
according to their gifts and powers, and led the way with
his own good example. The little society thus collected
and held together, Hofrath Reiffenstein has, after the depart-
ure of his friend, faithfully kept up ; and we all feel a lau-
dable desire to awake in every one an active participation.
The peculiar turn and character of each member of the so-
ciety are thus shown in a most agreeable way. For instance,
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 187
Tischbein, being an historical painter, views scenery quite
otherwise than the landscape-painter. He sees significant
groups, and other graceful speaking objects, where another
can see nothing ; and so he happily contrives to catch up
many a na'ive trait of humanity, — it may be in children,
peasants, mendicants, or other such beings of nature, or
even in animals, which, with a few characteristic touches, he
skilfully manages to portray, and thereby contributes much
new and agreeable matter for our discussions.
When conversation is exhausted, some one also, by Hack-
ert's direction, reads aloud Sulzer's Theory; for although,
from a high point of view, it is impossible to rest contented
with this work, nevertheless, as some one observed, it is so
far satisfactory as it is calculated to exercise a favorable
influence on minds less highly cultivated.
Rome, Nov. 17, 1786.
We are back again. During the night it rained in tor-
rents amidst thunder and lightning : it still goes on raining,
but is very warm withal.
As regards myself, however, it is only with few words
that I can indicate the happiness of this day. I have seen
the frescos of Domenichino, in Andrea della Valle, and also
the Farnese Gallery of Caraccios. Too much, forsooth,
for months ! — what, then, for a single day?
Rome, Nov. 18, 1786.
It is again beautiful weather, — a bright, genial, warm day.
I saw in the Farnesine Palace the story of Psyche, colored
copies of which have so long adorned my room, and then at
St. Peter's, in Montorio, the Transfiguration by Raphael, —
all well-known paintings, like friends one has made at a
distance by means of letters, and sees for the first time face
to face. To live with them, is, however, something quite
different. Every genuine friendship and its opposite becomes
immediately evident.
Moreover, there are to be met with in every spot and cor-
ner glorious things of which less has been said, and which
have not been scattered over the world by engravings and
copies. Of these I shall bring away with me many a draw-
ing from the hands of young but excellent artists.
The fact that I have long maintained a correspondence
with Tischbein, and consequently been on the best possible
terms with him, and that, even when I had no hope of ever
188 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
visiting Italy, I had communicated to him my wishes, has
made our meeting most profitable and delightful. He has
always been thinking of me, even providing for my wants.
With the varieties of stone of which all the great edifices,
whether old or new, are built, he has made himself perfectly
acquainted. He has thoroughly studied them, and these
studies have been greatly helped by his artistic eye and the
artist's pleasure in sensible things. Just before my arrival,
he sent off to Weimar a collection of specimens which he
had selected for me, and whicii I expect will give me a
friendly welcome on my return.
An ecclesiastic who is now residing in France, and had
in contemplation to write a work on the ancient marbles,
received through the influence of the Propaganda some large
pieces of marble from the Island of Paros. When they
arrived here, they were cut up for specimens ; and twelve
different pieces, from the finest to the coarsest grain, were
reserved for me. Some were of the greatest purity, while
others are more or less mingled with mica ; the former being
used for statuary, the latter for architecture. How much
an accurate knowledge of the material employed in the arts
must contribute to a right estimate of them, must be obvious
to every one.
There are opportunities enough here for my collecting
many more specimens. In our way to the ruins of Nero's
Palace, we passed through some artichoke grounds newly
turned up, and could not resist the temptation to cram our
pockets full of the granite, porphyry, and marble slabs
which lie here by thousands, and serve as unfailing wit-
nesses to the ancient splendor of the walls which were once
covered with them.
Rome, Nov. 18, 1786.
I must now speak of a wonderful problematical picture,
which, even in the midst of the many gems here, still makes
a good show of its own.
For many years there had been residing here a French-
man, well known as an admirer of the arts, and a collector.
He had got hold of an antique drawing in chalk, no one
knows how or whence. He had it retouched by Mengs,
and kept it in his collection as a work of very great value.
Winckclmann somewhere speaks of it with enthusiasm. The
Frenchman died, and left the picture to his hostess as an
antique. Mengs, too, died, and declared on his death-bed
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 189
that it was not an antique, but had been painted by himself.
And now the whole world is divided in opinion ; some main-
taining that Mengs had one day, in joke, dashed it off with
muoh facility ; others asserting that Mengs could never do
any thing like it, indeed, that it is almost too beautiful for
Raphael. I saw it yesterday, and must confess that I do
not know any thing more beautiful than the figure of Gany-
mede, especially the head and shoulders : the rest has been
much renovated. However, the painting is in ill repute,
and no one will relieve the poor landlady of her treasure.
Rome, Nov. 20, 1786.
As experience fully teaches us that there is a general
pleasure in having poems, whatever may be their subject,
illustrated with drawings and engravings, nay, that the
painter himself usually selects a passage of some poet or
other for the subject of his most elaborate paintings, Tisch-
bein's idea is deserving of approbation, that poets and paint-
ers should work together from the very first in order to
secure a perfect unity. The difficulty would assuredly be
greatly lessened, if it were applied to little pieces, such as
that the whole design would easily admit of being taken in
at once by the mind, and worked out consistently with the
original plan.
Tischbein has suggested for such common labors some
very delightful idyllic thoughts ; and it is really singular,
that those he wishes to see executed in this way are really
such as neither poetry nor painting alone could ever ade-
quately describe. During our walks together he has talked
with me about them, in the hopes of gaining me over to his
views, and getting me to enter upon the plan. The frontis-
piece for such a joint work is already designed ; and, did I
not fear to enter upon any new tasks at present, I might
perhaps be tempted.
Rome, Nov. 22, 1786.
The Feast of St. Cecilia.
The morning of this happy day I must endeavor to per-
petuate by a few lines, and, at least by description, to impart
to others what I have nryself enjoyed. The weather has
been beautiful and calm, quite a bright sky, and a warm
sun. Accompanied by Tischbein, I set off for the Piazza
of St. Peter's, where we went about, first of all, from one
part to another ; when it became too hot for that, walked up
and down in the shade of the great obelisk (which is full
190 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
wide enough for two abreast), and eating grapes, which we
purchased in the neighborhood. Then we entered the Sis-
tine Chapel, which we found bright and cheerful, and with
a good light for the pictures. The Last Judgment di-
vided our admiration with the paintings on the roof by
Michael Angelo. I could only see and wonder. The men-
tal confidence and boldness of the master, and his grandeur
of conception, are beyond all expression. After we had
looked at all of them over and over again, we left this sacred
building, and went to St. Peter's, which received from the
bright heavens the loveliest light possible, and every part of
it was clearly lighted up. As men willing to be pleased, we
were delighted with its vastness and splendor, and did not
allow an over nice or hypercritical taste to mar our pleasure.
We suppressed every harsher judgment : we enjoyed the
enjoyable.
Lastly we ascended the roof of the church, where one
finds, in little, the plan of a well-built city, — houses and
magazines, springs (in appearance, at least), churches, and
a great temple, all in the air, and beautiful walks between.
We mounted the dome, and saw glistening before us the
regions of the Apennines, Soracte, and, towards Tivoli, the
volcanic hills, — Frascati, Castel-gandolfo, and the plains,
and, beyond all, the sea. Close at our feet lay the whole
city of Rome in its length and breadth, with its mountain
palaces, domes, etc. Not a breath of air was moving, and
in the upper dome it was (as they say) like being in a hot-
house. When we had looked enough at these things, we
went down, and they opened for us the doors in the cornices
of the dome, the tympanum, and the nave. There is a pas-
sage all round, and from above you can take a view of the
whole church and of its several parts. As we stood ou
the cornices of the tympanum, we saw beneath us the Pope,
passing to his mid-day devotions. Nothing, therefore, was
wanting to make our view of St. Peter's perfect. We at
last descended to the area, and took, in a neighboring hotel,
a cheerful but frugal meal, and then set off for St. Cecilia's.
It would take many words to describe the decorations of
this church, which was crammed full of people. Not a stone
of the edifice was to be seen. The pillars were covered with
red velvet wound round with gold lace : the capitals were
overlaid with embroidered velvet, so as to retain somewhat
of the appearance of capitals ; and all the cornices and pil-
lars were in like manner covered with hangings. All the
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 191
entablatures of the walls were also covered with life-like
paintings, so that the whole church seemed to be laid out in
mosaic. Around in the church, and on the high altar, more
than two hundred wax tapers were burning. It looked like
a wall of lights, and the whole nave was perfectly lit up.
The aisles and side-altars were equally adorned and illumi-
nated. Right opposite the high altar, and under the organ,
two scaffolds were erected, which also were covered with
velvet, on one of which were placed the singers, and on the
other the instruments, which kept up one unbroken strain of
music. The church was crammed full.
I have heard an excellent kind of musical accompaniment.
Just as there are concerts of violins, or of other instruments,
so here they had concerts of voices ; so that one voice — the
soprano, for instance — predominates, and sings solo, while
from time to time the chorus of other voices falls in, and
accompanies it, always, of course, with the whole orchestra.
It has a good effect. I must end, as we, in fact, ended the
day. In the evening we came upon the opera, where no
less a piece than "I Litiganti " was then performed; but
we had all the day enjoyed so much of excellence, that
we passed by the door.
Rome, Nov. 23, 1786.
In order that it may not be the same with my dear incog-
nito as with the ostrich, which thinks itself to be concealed
when it has hid his head, so, in certain cases, I give it up,
still maintaining, however, my old thesis. I had, without
hesitation, paid a visit of compliment to the Prince von
Lichtenstein, the brother of my much esteemed friend the
Countess Harrach, and occasionally dined with him ; and I
soon perceived that my good-nature in this instance was
likely to lead me much farther. They began to feel their
way, and to talk to me of the Abbe Monti, and of his
tragedy of " Aristodemus," which is shortly to be brought
out on the stage. The author, it was said, wished, above all
things, to read it to me, and to hear my opinion of it. I
contrived, however, to let the matter drop without positively
refusing : at last, however, I met the poet and some of his
friends at the prince's house, and the play was read aloud.
The hero is, as is well known, the king of Sparta, who, by
various scruples of conscience, was driven to commit suicide.
Prettily enough they contrived to intimate to me their hope
that the author of "Werther" would not take it ill if he
192 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
found some of the rare passages of his own work made use
of in this drama. And so, even before the walls of Sparta,
I cannot escape from this unhappy youth,
The piece has a very simple and calm movement. The
sentiments, as well as the language, are well suited to the
subject, — full of energy, and yet of tenderness. The work
is a proof of very fair talents.
I failed not, according to my fashion (not, indeed, after
the Italian fashion) , to point out, and to dwell upon, all the
excellencies and merits of the play, with which, indeed, all
present were tolerably satisfied, though still with Southern
impatience they seemed to require something more. I even
ventured to predict what effect it was to be hoped the play
would have from the public. In excuse I pleaded my igno-
rance of the country, its way of thinking and tastes ; but
was candid enough to add, that I did not clearly see how,
with their vitiated taste, the Romans, who were accustomed
to see as an interlude either a complete comedy of three acts
or an opera of two, or could not sit out a grand opera with-
out the intermezzo of wholly foreign ballets, could ever take
delight in the calm, noble movement of a regular tragedy.
Then, again, the subject of a suicide seemed to me to be
altogether out of the pale of an Italian's ideas. That they
stabbed men to death, I knew by daily report of such events ;
but that any one should deprive himself of his own precious
existence, or even hold it possible for another to do so, — f o
that no trace or symptom had ever been brought under my
notice.
I then allowed myself to be circumstantially enlightened
as to all that might be urged in answer to my objections, and
readily yielded to their plausible arguments. I also assured
them I wished for nothing so much as to see the play acted,
and with a band of friends to welcome it with the most
downright and loudest applause. This assurance was re-
ceived in the most friendty manner, and I had this time at
least no cause to be dissatisfied with my compliance ; for
indeed Prince Lichtenstein is politeness itself, and found
opportunity for my seeing in his company many precious
works of art, a sight of which is not easily obtained without
special permission, and for which, consequently, high infiu-
once is indispensable. On the other hand, my good humor
failed me when the daughter of the Pretender expressed a
wish to see the foreign marmoset. I declined the honor, and
once more completely shrouded myself beneath my disguise.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 193
But still that is not altogether the right way ; and I here
feel most vividly what I have often before observed in life,
that the man who strives after that which is good must be as
much on the alert and as active with regard to others as the
selfish, the mean, and the wicked. It is easy to see this, but
it is extremely difficult to act in the spirit of it.
Nov. 24, 1786.
Of the people I can say nothing more than that they are
fine children of nature, who, amidst pomp and honors of all
kinds, religion, and the arts, are not one jot different from
what they would be in caves and forests. What strikes the
stranger most, and what to-day is making the whole city
talk, but only talk, is the common occurrence of assassina-
tion. To-day the victim has been an excellent artist —
Schwendemann, a Swiss, a medallionist. The particulars of
his death greatly resemble those of Windischmann's. The
assassin with whom he was struggling gave him twenty
stabs ; and, as the watch came up, the villain stabbed himself.
This is not generally the fashion here : the murderer usually
makes for the nearest church ; and once there, he is quite
safe.
And now, in order to shade my picture a little, I might
bring into it crimes and disorders, earthquakes and inunda-
tions of all kinds, but for an eruption of Vesuvius which
has just broken out, and has set almost all the visitors here
in motion ; and one must, indeed, possess a rare amount of
self-control, not to be carried away by the crowd. Really
this phenomenon of nature has in it something of a resem-
blance to the rattlesnake, for its attraction is irresistible.
At this moment it almost seems as if all the treasures of art
in Rome were annihilated : every stranger, without excep-
tion, has broken off the current of his contemplations, and is
hurrying to Naples. I, however, shall stay, in the hope that
the mountain will have a little eruption expressly for my
amusement.
Rome, Dec. 1, 1786.
Moritz is here, who has made himself famous by his
" Anthony, the Traveller (Anton Reiser), and his " Wander-
ings in England " ( Wander ung en nach England). He is a
right-down excellent man, and we have been greatly pleased
with him.
194 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
Rome, Dec. 1, 1786.
Here in Rome, where one sees so many strangers, all of
whom do not visit this capital of the world merely for the
sake of the fine arts, but also for amusements of every kind,
the people are prepared for every thing. Accordingly, they
have invented and attained great excellence in certain half
arts which require for their pursuit little more than manual
skill and pleasure in such handiwork, and which consequently
attract the interest of ordinary visitors.
Among these is the art of painting in wax. Requiring
little more than tolerable skill in water-coloring, it serves as
an amusement to employ one's time in preparing and adapt-
ing the wax, and then in burning it, and in such like me-
chanical labors. Skilful artists give lessons in the art, and,
under the pretext of showing their pupils how to perform
their tasks, do the chief part of the work themselves ; so that
when at last the figure stands out in bright relief in the
gilded frame, the fair disciple is ravished with the proof of
her unconscious talent.
Another pretty occupation is, with a very fine clay to
take impressions of cameos cut in deep relief. This is also
done in the case of medallions, both sides of which are thus
copied at once. More tact, attention, and diligence is re-
quired, lastly, for preparation of the glass-paste for mock
jewels. For all these things Hofrath Reiffenstein has the
necessary workshops and laboratories, either in his house or
close at hand.
Dec. 2, 1786.
I have accidentally found here Anhenholtz's ' ' Italy. " A
work written on the spot, in so contracted and narrow-
minded a spirit as this, is just as if one were to lay a book
purposely on the coals in order that it might be browned
and blackened, and its leaves curled up and disfigured with
smoke. No doubt he has seen all that he writes about, but
he possesses far too little of real knowledge to support his
high pretensions and sneering tone ; and whether he praises
or blames, he is always in the wrong.
Dec. 2, 1786.
Such beautiful warm and quiet weather at the end of
November (which, however, is often broken by a day's rain),
is quite new to me. We spend the fine days in the open air,
the bad in our room : everywhere there is something to learn
and to do, something to be delighted with.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 195
On the 28th we paid a second visit to the Sistine Chapel,
and had the galleries opened, in order that we might obtain
a nearer view of the ceiling. As the galleries are very nar-
row, it is only with great difficulty that one forces his way
up them, by means of the iron balustrades. There is an ap-
pearance of danger about it, on which account those who are
liable to get dizzy had better not make the attempt : all the
discomfort, however, is fully compensated by the sight of
the great masterpiece of art. And at this moment I am so
taken with Michael Angelo, that after him I have no taste
even for nature herself ; especially as I am unable to contem-
plate her with the same eye of genius that he did. Oh, that
there were only some means of fixing such paintings in my
soul ! At any rate, I shall bring with me every engraving
and drawing of his pictures, or drawings after him, that I can
lay hold of.
Then we went to the Loggie, painted by Raphael, and
scarcely dare I say that we could not endure to look at
them. The eye had been so dilated and spoiled by those
great forms, and the glorious finish of every part, that it was
not able to follow the ingenious windings of the Arabesques ;
and the Scripture histories, however beautiful they were, did
not stand examination after the former. And yet to see
these works frequently one after another, and to compare
them together at leisure, and without prejudice, must be a
source of great pleasure ; for at first all sympathy is more
or less exclusive.
Under a sunshine, if any thing rather too warm, we thence
proceeded to the Villa Pamphili, whose beautiful gardens are
much resorted to for amusement ; and there we remained till
evening. A large, flat meadow, enclosed by long, evergreen
oaks and loft}- pines, was sown all over with daisies, which
turned their heads to the sun. I now revived my botanical
speculations which I had indulged in the other day during a
walk towards Monte Mario, to the Villa Melini, and the Villa
Madama. It is very interesting to observe the working of a
vigorous, unceasing vegetation, which is here unbroken by
any severe cold. Here there are no buds : one has actually
to learn what a bud is. The strawberry-tree (arbutus
unedo) is at this season, for the second time, in blossom,
while its last fruits are just ripening. So also the orange-
tree may be seen in flower, and at the same time bearing
partially and fully ripened fruit. (The latter trees, how-
ever, if they are not sheltered by standing between build-
Goethe— G- Vol 4
196 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
ings, are at this season generally covered.) As to the
cypress, that most " venerable " of trees when it is old and
well grown, it affords matter enough for thought. As soon
as possible I shall pay a visit to the Botanical Gardens, and
hope to add there much to my experience. Generally, there
is nothing to be compared with the new life which the sight
of a new country affords to a thoughtful person. Although
I am still the same being, I yet think I am changed to the
very marrow.
For the present I conclude, and shall perhaps fill the next
sheet with murders, disorders, earthquakes, and troubles,
in order that at any rate my pictures may not be without
shades.
Rome, Dec. 3, 1786.
The weather lately has changed almost every six days.
Two days quite glorious, then a doubtful one, and after it
two or three rainy ones, and then again fine weather. I
endeavor to put each day, according to its nature, to the
best use.
And yet these glorious objects are even still like new
acquaintances to me. One has not yet lived with them, nor
got familiar with their peculiarities. Some of them attract
us with irresistible power, so that for a time we feel indif-
ferent, if not unjust, to all others. Thus, for instance, the
Pantheon, the Apollo Belvedere, some colossal heads, and
very recently the Sistine Chapel, have by turns so won my
whole heart, that I scarcely saw any thing besides them.
But, in truth, can man, little as man always is, and accus-
tomed to littleness, ever make himself equal to all that here
surrounds him of what is noble, vast, and refined? Even
though he should in any degree adapt himself to it, then how
vast is the multitude of objects that immediately press upon
him from all sides, and meet him at every turn, of which
each demands for itself the tribute of his whole attention.
How is one to get out of the difficulty? No other way
assuredly than by patiently allowing it to work, becoming
industrious, and attending the while to all that others have
accomplished for our benefit.
Winckelmann's "-History of Art," translated by Rea (the
new edition) , is a very useful book, which I have just pro-
cured, and here on the spot find it to be highly profitable, as
I have around me many kind friends, willing to explain and
to comment upon it.
LETTERS FUOM ITALY. 197
Roman antiquities also begin to have a charm for me.
History, inscriptions, coins (of which formerly I knew
nothing), all are pressing upon me. As I fared with nat-
ural history, so I do here also ; for the history of the whole
world attaches itself to this spot, and I reckon a new birth-
day, — a true new birth from the day I entered Rome.
Dec. 5, 1786.
During the few weeks that I have been here, I have already
seen many strangers come and go, so that I have often
wondered at the levity with which so many treat these pre-
cious monuments. God be thanked that hereafter none of
those birds of passage will be able to impose upon me.
When, in the North, the}' shall speak to me of Rome, none of
them now will be able to excite my spleen ; for I also have
seen it, and know too, in some degree, where I have been.
Dec. 8, 1786.
We have, every now and then, the most beautiful days.
The rain which falls from time to time has made the grass
and garden-stuffs quite verdant. Evergreens, too, are to be
seen here at different spots, so that one scarcely misses the
fallen leaves of the forest trees. In the gardens you may
see orange-trees full of fruit, left in the open ground and not
under cover.
I had intended to give you a particular account of a very
pleasant trip which we took to the sea, and of our fishing-ex-
ploits ; but in the evening poor Moritz, as he was riding
home, broke his arm, his horse having slipped on the smooth
Roman pavement. This marred all our pleasure, and has
plunged our little domestic circle in sad affliction.
Dec. 13, 1786.
I am heartily delighted that you have taken my sudden
disappearance just as I wished you should. Pray appease
for me every one that may have taken offence at it. I never
wished to give any one pain, and even now I cannot say any
thing to excuse myself. God keep me from ever afflicting
my friends with the premises which led me to this resolution.
Here I am gradually recovering from my " salto mortale,"
and studying rather than enjoying. Rome is a world, and
one must spend years before one can become at all acquainted
with it. How happy do I consider those travellers who can
take a look at it and go their way !
198 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
Yesterday many of Winckelmann's letters which he wrote
from Italy fell into my hands. With what emotions I began
to read them ! About this same season, some one and thirty
years ago, he came hither a still poorer simpleton than I ;
but then he had such thorough German enthusiasm for all
that is sterling and genuine, either in antiquity or art. How
bravely and diligently he worked his way through all dif-
ficulties ; and what good it does me, — the remembrance of
such a man in such a place !
After the objects of Nature, who in all her parts is true to
herself, and consistent, nothing speaks so loudly as the re-
membrance of a good, intelligent man, — that genuine art
which is no less consistent and harmonious than herself.
Here in Rome we feel this right well, where so many an arbi-
trary caprice has had its day, where so many a folly has
immortalized itself by its power and its gold.
The following passage in Winckelmann's letters to Fran-
conia particularly pleased me. " We must look at all the
objects in Rome with a certain degree of phlegm, or else one
will be taken for a Frenchman. In Rome, I believe, is the
high school for all the world ; and I also have been purified
and tried in it."
This remark applies directly to my mode of visiting the
different objects here ; and most certain is it, that out of
Rome no one can have an idea how one is schooled in Rome.
One must, so to speak, be new born ; and one looks back on
his earlier notions as a man does on the little shoes which
fitted him when a child. The most ordinary man learns
something here : at least he gains one uncommon idea, even
though it never should pass into his whole being.
This letter will reach you in the new year. All good
wishes for the beginning : before the end of it we shall meet
again, and that will be no little gratification. The one that
is passing away has been the most important of my life. I
may now die, or I may tarry a little longer yet : in either
case it was well. And now a word or two more for the
little ones.
To the children you may either read or tell what follows.
Here there are no signs of winter : the gardens are planted
with evergreens ; the sun shines bright and warm ; snow is
nowhere to be seen, except on the most distant hills towards
the north. The citron-trees, which are planted against the
garden walls, are now, one after another, covered with reeds ;
but the oranges are allowed to stand quite open. Many
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 199
hundreds of the finest fruits may be seen hanging on a single
tree ; which is not, as with us, dwarfed, and planted in a
bucket, but stands in the earth, free and joyous, amidst a long
line of brothers. The oranges are even now very good, but
it is thought they will be still finer.
We were lately at the sea, and had a haul of fish, and
drew to the light, fishes, crabs, and rare univalves of the
most wonderful shapes conceivable ; also the fish which gives
an electric shock to all who touch it.
Rome, Dec. 20, 1786.
And yet, after all, it is more trouble and care than enjoy-
ment. The Regenerator, which is changing me within and
without, continues to work. I certainly thought that I had
something really to learn here ; but that I should have to
take so low a place in the school, that I must forget so much
that I had learned, or rather absolutely unlearn so much, — of
that I had never the least idea. Now, however, that I am
once convinced of its necessity, I have devoted myself to the
task ; and the more I am obliged to renounce my former self,
the more delighted I am. I am like an architect who has
begun to build a tower, but finds he has laid a bad founda-
tion : he becomes aware of the fact betimes, and willingly
goes to work to pull down all that he has raised above the
earth ; having done so, he proceeds to enlarge his ground
plan, and now rejoices to anticipate the undoubted stability
of his future building. Heaven grant, that, on my return,
the moral conseqences may be discernible of all that this
living in a wider world has effected within me ! For, in
sooth, the moral sense as well as the artistic is undergoing
a great change.
Dr. Miinter is here on his return from his tour in Sicily, —
an energetic, vehement man. What objects he may have, I
cannot tell. He will reach you in May, and has much to tell
you. He has been travelling in Italy two years. He is dis-
gusted with the Italians, who have not paid due respect to
the weighty letters of recommendation which were to have
opened to him many an archive, many a private library ; so
that he is far from having accomplished his object.
He has collected some beautiful coins, and possesses, he
tells me, a manuscript which reduces numismatics to as pre-
cise a system of characteristics as the Linnaean system of
botany. Herder, he says, knows still more about it : proba-
bly a transcript of it will be permitted. To do something of
200 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
the kind is certainly possible ; and, if well done, it will be
truly valuable : and we must, sooner or later, enter seriously
into this branch of learning.
Rome, Dec. 25, 1786.
I am now beginning to revisit the principal sights of
Rome : in such second views, our first amazement generally
dies away into more of sympathy and a purer perception
of the true value of the objects. In order to form an idea of
the highest achievements of the human mind, the soul must
first attain to perfect freedom from prejudice and preposses-
sion.
Marble is a rare material. It is on this account that the
Apollo Belvedere in the original is so infinitely ravishing ;
for that sublime air of youthful freedom and vigor, of never-
changing juvenescence, which breathes around the marble,
at once vanishes in the best even of plaster casts.
In the Palace Rondanini, which is right opposite our lodg-
ings, there is a Medusa-mask, above the size of life, in which
the attempt to portray a lofty and beau,tiful countenance in
the numbing agony of death has been indescribably success-
ful. I possess an excellent cast of it, but the charm of
the marble remains not. The noble semi-transparency of the
yellow stone — approaching almost to the hue of flesh — is
vanished. Compared with it, plaster of Paris has a chalky
and dead look.
And yet how delightful it is to go to a modeller in gyp-
sum, and to see the noble limbs of a statue come out one by
one from the mould, and thereby to acquire wholly new ideas
of their shapes. And then, again, by such means all that in
Rome is scattered, is brought together, for the purpose of
comparison ; and this alone is of inestimable service. Ac-
cordingly, I could not resist the temptation to procure a cast
of the colossal head of Jupiter. It stands right opposite
my bed, in a good light, in order that I may address my
morning devotions to it. With all its grandeur and dignity,
it has, however, given rise to one of the funniest interludes
possible.
Our old hostess, when she comes to make my bed, is gen-
erally followed by her pet cat. Yesterday- I was sitting in
the great hall, and could hear the old woman pursue her
avocation within. On a sudden, in great haste, and with an
excitement quite unusual to her, she opened the door, and
called to me to come quickly and see a wonder. To my
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 201
question, what was the matter, she replied the cat was say-
ing its prayers. Of the animal she had long observed, she
told me, that it had as much sense as a Christian ; but this
was really a great wonder. I hastened to see it with my own
eyes ; and it was, indeed, strange enough. The bust stood
on a high pedestal, and, as there was a good length of the
shoulders, the head stood high. Now, the cat had sprung
upon the table, and had placed her fore-feet on the breast of
the god, and, stretching her bod}" to its utmost length, just
reached with her muzzle his sacred beard, which she was
licking most ceremoniously ; and neither by the exclamation
of the hostess, nor my entrance into the room, was she at
all disturbed. I left the good dame to her astonishment ;
and she afterwards accounted for puss's strange act of devo-
tion by supposing that this sharp-nosed cat had caught scent
of the grease which had probably been transferred from the
mould to the deep lines of the beard, and had remained
there.
Dec. 29, 1786.
Of Tischbein I have much to say and to boast. In the
first place, a thorough and original German, he has made
himself entirely what he is. In the next place, I must make
grateful mention of the friendly attentions he has shown me
throughout the time of his second stay in Rome. For he
has had prepared for me a series of copies after the best
masters, — some in black chalk, others in sepia and water-
colors, — which in Germany, when I shall be at a distance
from the originals, will grow in value, and will serve to
remind me of all that is rarest and best.
At the commencement of his career as an artist, when he
set up as a portrait-painter, Tischbein came in contact, espe-
cially in Munich, with distinguished personages, and in his
intercourse with them strengthened his artistic feeling and
enlarged his views.
The second part of the "Ze?*streute Blatter" (stray leaves)
I have brought with me hither, and they are doubly welcome.
What good influence this little book has had on me, even on
the second perusal, Herder, for his reward, shall be circum-
stantially informed. Tischbein cannot conceive how any
thing so excellent could ever have been written by one who
has never been in Italy
202 LETTERS FKOM ITALY.
Dec. 29, 1786.
In this world of artists one lives, as it were, in a mirrored
chamber, where, without wishing it, one sees his own image
and those of others continually multiplied. Latterly I have
often observed Tischbein attentively regarding me ; and now
it appears that he has long cherished the idea of painting
my portrait. His design is already settled, and the canvas
stretched. I am to be drawn of the size of life, enveloped in
a white mantle, and sitting on a fallen obelisk, viewing the
ruins of the Campagna di Roma, which are to fill up the
background of the picture. It will form a beautiful piece,
only it will be rather too large for our northern habitations.
I, indeed, may again crawl into them, but the portrait will
never be able to enter their doors.
I cannot help observing the great efforts that are con-
stantly being made to draw me from my retirement, — how
the poets either read or get their pieces read to me ; and I
should be blind did I not see that it depends only on myself
whether I shall play a part or not. All this is amusing
enough ; for I have long since measured the lengths to which
one may go in Rome. The many little coteries here at the
feet of the mistress of the world strongly remind one occa-
sionally of an ordinary country town.
In sooth, things here are much like what they are every-
where else ; and what could be done with me and through me
causes me ennui long before it is accomplished. Here you
must take up with one party or another, and help them to
carry on their feuds and cabals ; and you must praise these
artists and those dilettanti, disparage their rivals, and, above
all, be pleased with every thing that the rich and great do.
All these little meannesses, then, for the sake of which one
is almost ready to leave the world itself, — must I here mix
myself up with them, and that, too, when I have neither
interest nor stake in them? No : I shall go no farther than
is merely necessary to know what is going on, and thus to
learn, in private, to be more contented with my lot, and to
stifle the desire, in myself and others, of going out into the
dear wide world. I wish to see Rome in its abiding and
permanent features, and not as it passes and changes with
every ten years. Had I time, I might wish to employ it bet-
ter. Above all, one ma}" study history here quite differently
from what one can on any other spot. In other places one
has, as it were, to read one's self into it from without ; here
one fancies that he reads from within outwards : all arranges
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 208
itself around you, and seems to proceed from you. And this
holds good, not only of Roman history, but also of that of
the whole world. From Rome I can accompany the con-
querors on their march to the Weser or to the Euphrates ;
or, if I wish to be a sight-seer, I can wait in the Via Sacra
for the triumphant generals, and in the meantime receive for
my support the largesses of corn and money, and so take a
very comfortable share in all the splendor.
Rome, Jan. 2, 1787.
Men may say what they will in favor of a written and
oral communication : it is only in a very few cases indeed that
it is at all adequate ; for it never can convey the true char-
acter of any object soever, — no, not even of a purely intel-
lectual one. But if one has already enjoyed a sure and
steady view of the object, then one may profitably hear or
read about it ; for then there exists a living impression
around which all else may arrange itself in the mind, and
then one can think and judge.
You have often laughed at me, and wished to drive me
away from the peculiar taste I had for examining stones,
plants, or animals, from certain theoretical points of view :
now, however, I am directing my attention to architects,
statuaries, and painters, and hope to find myself learning
something even from them.
Rome, Jan. 4, 1787.
After all this, I must further speak to you of the state of
indecision in which I am with regard to my stay in Italy.
In my last letter I wrote to you that it was my purpose to
leave Rome immediately after Easter, and gradually return
home. Until then I shall yet gather a few more shells from
the shore of the great ocean, and so my most urgent needs
will have been appeased. I am now cured of a violent pas-
sion and disease, and restored to the enjoyment of life, to
the enjoyment of history, poetry, and of antiquities, and
have treasures which it will take me many a long year to
polish and to finish.
Recently, however, friendly voices have reached me to the
effect that I ought not to be in a hurry, but to wait till I can
return home with still richer gains. From the Duke, too, I
have received a very kind and considerate letter, in which he
excuses me from my duties for an indefinite period, and sets
me quite at ease with respect to my absence. My mind,
204 LETTERS PROM ITALY.
therefore, turns to the vast field which I must otherwise have
left untrodden. For instance, in the case of coins and cam-
eos, I have as yet been able to do nothing. I have, indeed,
begun to read Winckelmann's "History of Art, " but have
passed over Egypt : for I feel, once again, that I must look
out before me ; and I have done so with regard to Egyptian
matters. The more we look, the more distant becomes the
horizon of art ; and he who would step surely must step
slowly.
I intend to stay here till the Carnival ; and, in the first
week of Lent, shall set off for Naples, taking Tischbein with
me, both because it will be a treat to him, and because, in
his society, all my enjoyments are more than doubled. I
purpose to return hither before Easter, for the sake of the
solemnities of Passion Week. But there Sicily lies — there
below. A journey thither requires more preparation, and
ought to be taken, too, in the autumn. It must not be
merely a ride round it and across it, which is soon done, but
from which we bring away with us, in return for our fatigue
and money, nothing but a simple, / have seen it : the best
way is to take up one's quarters, first of all, in Palermo, and
afterwards in Catania ; and then, from those points, to make
fixed and profitable excursions, having previously, however,
well studied Biedesel and others on the locality.
If, then, I spend the summer in Rome, I shall set to work
to study, and to prepare myself for visiting Sicily. As I
cannot very well go there before November, and must sta}
there till over December, it will be the spring of 1788 before
I can hope to get home again. Then, again, I have had
before my mind a medius terminus. Giving up the idea of
visiting Sicily, I have thought of spending a part of the
summer at Rome, and then, after paying a second visit to
Florence, getting home by the autumn.
But all these plans have been much perplexed by the news
of the Duke's misfortune. Since receiving the letters which
informed me of this event I have had no rest, and would like
most to set off at Easter, laden with the fragments of my
conquests, and, passing quickly through Upper Italy, be in
Weimar again by June.
I am too much alone here to decide ; and I write you this
long story of my whole position, that 3'ou may be good
enough to summon a council of those who love me, and who,
being on the spot, know the circumstances better than I.
Let them, therefore, determine the proper course for me to
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 205
take, on the supposition of what, I assure you, is the fact,
that I am myself more disposed to return than to stay. The
strongest tie that holds me in Italy is Tischbein. I should
never, even should it be nry happy lot to return a second
time to this beautiful land, learn so much in so short a time
as I have now done in the society of this well-educated,
highly refined, and most upright man, who is devoted to me,
both body and soul. I cannot now tell you how the scales
are gradually falling from off my eyes. He who travels by
night takes the dawn for day, and a murky day for bright-
ness : what will it be when the sun rises ? Moreover, I have
hitherto kept- myself from all the world, which yet is getting
hold of me by degrees, and which I, for my part, was not
unwilling to watch and observe with stealthy glances.
I have written to Fritz a joking account of my reception
into the Arcadia; and indeed it is only a subject of joke,
for the Institute is really sunk into miserable insignificance.
Next Monday week Monti's tragedy is to be acted. He is
extremely anxious, and not without cause. He has a very
troublesome public, which requires to be amused from
moment to moment ; and his play has no brilliant passages
in it. He has asked me to go with him to his box, and
stand by him as confessor in this critical moment. Another
is ready to translate my " Iphigenia ; " another, to do I
know not what, in honor of me. They are all so divided
into parties, and so bitter against each other. But my
countrymen are so unanimous in my favor, that if I gave
them any encouragement, and yielded to them in the very
least, they would try a hundred follies with me, and end
with crowning me on the Capitol, of which they have already
seriously thought — so foolish is it to have a stranger and a
Protestant to play the first part in a comedy. What con-
nection there is in all this, and how great a fool I was to
think that it was all intended for my honor, — of all this we
will talk together one day.
Jan. 6, 1787.
I have just come from Moritz, whose arm is healed, and
loosed from its bandages. It is well set, firm, and he can
move it quite freely. What during these last forty days I
have experienced and learned, as nurse, confessor, and pri-
vate secretary, to this patient, may prove of benefit to us
hereafter. The most painful- sufferings and the noblest en-
joyments went side by side throughout this whole period.
206 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
To refresh me, I yesterday had set up in our sitting-room
a cast of a colossal head of Juno, of which the original is in
the Villa Ludovisi. This was my first love in Rome, and
now I have gained the object of my wishes. No words can
give the remotest idea of it. It is like one of Homer's songs.
I have, however, deserved the neighborhood of such good
society for the future ; for I can now tell you that Iphigenia
is at last finished, i.e., that it lies before me on the table
in two tolerably concordant copies, of which one will very
soon begin its pilgrimage to you. Receive it with all indul-
gence ; for, to speak the truth, what stands on the paper is
not exactly what I intended, but still it will convey an idea
of what was in my mind.
You complain occasionally of some obscure passages in
my letters, which allude to the oppression, which I suffer in
the midst of the most glorious objects in the world. With
all this, my fellow-traveller — this Grecian princess — has
had a great deal to do ; for she has kept me close at work
when I wished to be seeing sights.
I often think of our worthy friend, who had long deter-
mined upon a grand tour which one might well term a
voyage of discovery. After he had studied and economized
several years with a view to this object, he took it in his
head to carry off the daughter of a noble house, thinking it
was all one.
With no less of criminality, I determined to take Iphigenia
with me to Carslbad. I will now briefly enumerate the
places where I held special converse with her.
When I had left behind me the Brenner, I took her out of
my large portmanteau, and placed her by my side. At the
Lago di Garda, while the strong south wind drove the waves
on the beach, and where I was at least as much alone as my
heroine on the coast of Tauris, I drew the first outlines,
which afterwards I filled up at Verona, Vicenza, and Padua,
but above all, and most diligently, at Venice. After this,
however, the work came to a stand-still ; for I hit upon a new
design, viz., of writing an Iphigenia at Delphi, which I
should have immediately carried into execution, but for the
distractions of my young, and for a feeling of duty towards
the older, play.
In Rome, however, I went on with it, and proceeded with
tolerable steadiness. Every evening before I went to sleep
I prepared myself for my morning's task, which was resumed
immediately I awoke. My way of proceeding was quite
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 207
simple : I calmly wrote down the play, and tried the melody
line by line, and period by period. What has been thus pro-
duced, you shall soon judge of. For my part, doing this
work, I have learnt more than I have done. With the play
itself there shall follow some further remarks.
To speak again of church matters, I must tell you that on
the night of Christmas Day we wandered about in troops,
and visited all the churches where solemn services were being
performed. One especially was visited, because of its organ
and music : the latter was so arranged, that in its tones
nothing belonging to pastoral music was wanting, — neither
the singing of the shepherds, nor the twittering of birds, nor
the bleating of sheep.
On Christmas Day I saw the Pope and the whole consistory
in St. Peter's, where he celebrated high mass, partly before
and partly from his throne. It is of its kind an unequalled
sight, splendid and dignified enough ; but I have grown so
old in my Protestant Diogenism, that this pomp and
splendor revolt me more than they attract me. I, like my
pious forefathers, am disposed to say to these spiritual con-
querors of the world, "Hide not from me the sun of higher
art and purer humanity. "
Yesterday, which was the Feast of Epiphany, I saw and
heard mass celebrated after the Greek rite. The ceremonies
appeared to me more solemn, more severe, more suggestive,
and yet more popular, than the Latin.
But there, too, I also felt again that I am too old for any
thing, except for truth alone. Their ceremonies and operatic
music, their gyrations and ballet-like movements — it all
passes off from me like water from an oilskin cloak. A
work of nature, however, like that of a sunset seen from the
Villa Madonna, — a work of art, like my much honored Juno,
— makes a deep and vivid impression on me.
And now I must ask you to congratulate me with regard
to theatrical matters. Next week seven theatres will be
opened. Anfossi himself is here, and will act "Alexander
in India. " A Cyrus also will be represented, and the
"Taking of Troy" as a ballet. That assuredly must be
something for the children !
Eomk, Jan. 10, 178T.
Here, then, comes the " child of sorrows ; " for this sur-
name is due to "Iphigenia" in more than one sense. On
208 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
the occasion of my reading it to our artists, I put a mark
against several lines, some of which I have in my opinion
improved, but others I have allowed to stand — perhaps
Herder will cross a few of them with his pen.
The true cause of my having for many years preferred
prose for my works, is the great uncertainty in which our
prosody fluctuates, in consequence of which many of my
judicious learned friends and fellow artists have left many
things to taste, — a course, however, which was little favora-
ble to the establishing of any certain standard.
I should never have attempted to translate " Iphigenia "
into iambics, had not Moritz's prosody shone upon me like a
star of light. My conversation with its author, especially
during his confinement from his accident, has still more en-
lightened me on the subject ; and I would recommend my
friends to think favorably of it.
It is somewhat singular, that in our language we have but
very few syllables which are decidedly long or short. With
all the others, one proceeds as taste or caprice may dictate.
Now, Moritz, after much thought, has hit upon the idea that
there is a certain order of rank among our syllables, and that
the one which in sense is more emphatic is long as compared
with the less significant, and makes the latter short ; but, on
the other hand, it does in its turn become short whenever it
comes into the neighborhood of another which possesses
greater weight and emphasis than itself. Here, then, is at
least a rule to go by ; and even though it does not decide the
whole matter, still it opens out a path by which one may
hope to get a little farther. I have often allowed myself to
be influenced by these rules, and generally have found my
ear agreeing with them.
As I formerly spoke of a public reading, I must quietly
tell you how it passed off. These young men, accustomed to
those earlier vehement and impetuous pieces, expected some-
thing after the fashion of Berlichingen, and could not so
well make out the calm movement of " Iphigenia ; " and j r et
the nobler and purer passages did not fail of effect. Tisch-
bein, who also could hardly reconcile himself to this entire
absence of passion, produced a pretty illustration or symbol
of the work. He illustrated it by a sacrifice, of which the
smoke, borne down by a light breeze, descends to the earth,
while the freer flame strives to ascend on high. The draw-
ing was very pretty and significant. I have the sketch still
by me. And thus the work, which I thought to despatch in
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 209
no time, has employed, hindered, occupied, and tortured me
a full quarter of a year. This is not the first time that I
have made an important task a mere by-work ; but we will
on that subject no longer indulge in fancies and disputes.
I enclose a beautiful cameo, — a lion, with a gad-fly buzz-
ing at his nose. This seems to have been a favorite subject
with the ancients, for they have repeated it very often. I
should like you, from this time forward, to seal your letters
with it, in order that through this (little) trifle an echo of art
may, as it were, reverberate from you* to me.
Rome, Jan. 13, 1787.
How much I have to say each day, and how sadly I am
prevented, either by amusement or occupation, from commit-
ting to paper a single sage remark ! And then again, the
fine days, when it is better to be anywhere than in the rooms,
which, without stove or chimney, receive us only to sleep
or to discomfort ! Some of the incidents of the last week,
however, must not be left unrecorded.
In the Palace Giustiniani there is a Minerva, which claims
my undivided homage. Winckelmann scarcely mentions it,
and, at any rate, not in the right place ; and I feel myself
quite unworthy to say any thing about it. As we contem-
plated the image, and stood gazing at it a long time, the
wife of the keeper of the collection said, " This must have
once been a holy image ; and the English, who happen to be
of this religion, are still accustomed to pay worship to it by
kissing this hand of it" (which in truth was quite white,
while the rest of the statue was brownish). She further
told us that a lady of this religion had been there not long
before, and, throwing herself on her knees before the statue,
had regularly offered prayer to it ; and I, she said, as a Chris-
tian, could not help smiling at so strange an action, and was
obliged to run out of the room, lest I should burst out into a
loud laugh before her face. As I was unwilling to move
from the statue, she asked me if my beloved was at all like
the statue, that it charmed me so much. The good dame
knew of nothing besides devotion or love ; but of the pure
admiration for a glorious piece of man's handiwork, of a
mere sympathetic veneration for the creation of the human
intellect, she could form no idea. We rejoiced in that noble
English woman, and went away with a longing to turn our
steps back again ; and I shall certainly soon go once more
thither. If my friends wish for a more particular descrip-
210 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
tion, let them read what Winckelmann says of the high style
of art among the Greeks : unfortunately, however, he does
not adduce this Minerva as an illustration. But, if I do not
greatly err, it is, nevertheless, of this high and severe style,
since it passes into the beautiful. It is, as it were, a bud
that opens, and so a Minerva, whose character this idea
of transition so well suits.
Now for a spectacle of a different kind. On the Feast of
the Three Kings, or the Commemoration of Christ's Mani-
festation to the Gentiles, we paid a visit to the Propaganda.
There, in the presence of three cardinals and a large audi-
ence, an essay was first of all delivered, which treated of the
place in which the Virgin Mary received the three Magi, —
in the stable ; or, if not, where ? Next, some Latin verses
were read on similar subjects ; and after this a series of about
thirty scholars came forward, one by one, and read a little
piece of poetry in their native tongues, — Malabar, Epirotic,
Turkish, Moldavian, Hellenic, Persian, Colchian, Hebrew,
Arabic, Syrian, Coptic, Saracenic, Armenian, Erse, Mada-
gassic, Icelandic, Bohemian, Greek, Isaurian, ^Ethiopic, etc.
The poems seemed for the most part to be composed in the
national syllabic measure, and to be delivered with the ver-
nacular declamation, for most barbaric rhythms and tones
occurred. Among them, the Greek sounded like a star in
the night. The audience laughed most unmercifully at the
strange sounds ; and so this representation also became a
farce.
And now (before concluding) a little anecdote, to show
with what levity holy things are treated in Holy Rome : The
deceased cardinal, Albani, was once present at one of those
festal meetings which I have just been describing. One of
the scholars, with his face turned towards the cardinals,
began, in a strange pronunciation, Gnaja! Gnaja! so that
it sounded something like canaglia ! canaglia ! The cardinal
turned to his brothers, with a whisper, "He knows us, at
any rate.' ,
How much has Winckelmann done ! and yet how much
reason has he left us to wish that he had done still more !
With the materials which he had collected he built quickly,
in order to reach the roof. Were he still living, he would
be the first to give us a recast of his great work. What
further observations, what corrections, he would have made !
to what good use he would have put all that others, follow-
ing his own principles, have observed and effected ! And,
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 211
besides, Cardinal Albani is dead, out of respect to whom he
has written much, and perhaps concealed much.
Jan. 15, 1787.
And so, then, " Aristodemo" has at last been acted, and
with good success, too, and the greatest applause : as the
Abbate Monti is related to the house of the Nepote, and
highly esteemed among the higher orders, from these, there-
fore, all was to be hoped for. The boxes, indeed, were but
sparing in their plaudits. As for the pit, it was won, from
the very first, by the beautiful language of the poet and the
appropriate recitation of the actors ; and it omitted no oppor-
tunity of testifying its approbation. The bench of the Ger-
man artists distinguished themselves not a little ; and this
time no fault can be found with them, considering they are
at all times a little overloud.
The author himself remained at home, full of anxiety
for the success of the play. From act to act, favorable des-
patches arrived, which changed his fear into the greatest joy.
Now there is no lack of repetitions of the representation,
and all is on the best track. Thus, by the most opposite
things, if only each has the merit it claims, the favor of the
multitude, as well as of the connoisseur, may be won.
But the acting was in the highest degree meritorious ; and
the chief actor, who appears throughout the play, spoke and
acted cleverly : one might have fancied he saw one of the
ancient Caesars come on the stage. They had, very judi-
ciously, transferred to their stage dresses the costume which
in the statue strikes the spectator as so dignified ; and one
saw at once that the actor had studied the antique.
Jan. 18, 1787.
Rome is threatened with a great artistic loss. The king
of Naples has ordered the Hercules Farnese to be brought to
his palace. The news has made all the artists quite sad.
However, on this occasion we shall see something which was
hidden from our forefathers.
The aforesaid statue, namely, from the head to the knee,
and afterwards the lower part of the feet, together with the i
sockle on which it stood, were found within the Farnesian
domain : but the legs, from the knee to the ankle, were want-
ing, and had been supplied by Giuglielmo Porta ; on these it
had stood since its discovery to the present day. In the
212 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
mean time, however, the genuine old legs were found in the
lands of the Borghesi, and were to be seen in their villa.
. Recently, however, the Prince Borghese has achieved a
victory over himself, and has made a present of these costly
relics to the king of Naples. They are removing Porta' s
legs, and replacing them by the genuine ones ; and every one
is promising himself — however well contented he has been
hitherto with the old — quite a new treat and a more har-
monious enjoyment.
Rome, Jan. 18, 1787.
Yesterday, which was the Festival of the Holy Abbot St.
Anthony, we had a merry day. The weather was the finest
in the world : though there had been a hard frost during the
night, the day was bright and warm.
One may remark, that all religions which enlarge their
worship or their speculations must at last come to this, — of
making the brute creation in some degree partakers of spir-
itual favors. St. Anthony — abbot or bishop — is the pat-
ron saint of all four-footed creatures : his festival is a kind
of Saturnalian holiday for the otherwise oppressed beasts,
and also for their keepers and drivers. All the gentry must
on this day either remain at home, or else be content to
travel on foot. And there are no lack of fearful stories,
which tell how unbelieving masters, who forced their coach-
men to drive them on this day, were punished by suffering
great calamities.
The church of the saint lies in so wide aud open a dis-
trict, that it might almost be called a desert. On this day,
however, it is full of life and fun. Horses and mules, with
their manes and tails prettily, not to say gorgeously, decked
out with ribbons, are brought before the chapel (which stands
at some distance from the church), where a priest, armed
with a brush, and not sparing of the holy water, which
stands before him in buckets and tubs, goes on sprinkling
the lively creatures, and often plays them a roguish trick, in
order to make them start and frisk. Pious coachmen offer
their wax-tapers, of larger or smaller size. The masters send
alms and presents, in order that the valuable and useful ani-
mals may go safely through the coming year without hurt or
accidents. The donkeys and horned cattle, no less valuable
and useful to their owners, have, likewise, their modest share
in this blessing.
Afterwards we delighted ourselves with a long walk under
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 213
a delicious sky, and surrounded by the most interesting ob-
jects, to which, however, we this time paid very little atten-
tion, but gave full scope and rein to joke and merriment.
Rome, Jan. 19, 1787.
So, then, the great king, whose glory filled the world,
whose deeds make him worthy of even the Papists' paradise,
has gone at last from this life, to converse with heroes like
himself in the realm of shades. How disposed one feels to
be still after bringing the like of him to his rest.
This has been a very good day. First of all, we visited a
part of the Capitol which we had previously neglected ;
then we crossed the Tiber, and drank some Spanish wine on
board a ship which had just come into port. It was on this
spot that Romulus and Remus are said to have been found.
Thus keeping, as it were, a double or treble festival, we rev-
elled in the inspiration of art, of a mild atmosphere, and of
antiquarian reminiscences.
Jan. 20, 1787.
What at first furnishes a hearty enjoyment, when we take
it superficially only, often weighs on us afterwards most
oppressively, when we see that, without solid knowledge,
the true delight must be missed.
As regards anatomy, I am pretty well prepared : and I
have, not without some labor, gained a tolerable knowledge
of the human frame ; for the continual examination of the
ancient statues is continually stimulating one to a more per-
fect understanding of it. In our medico-chirurgical anat-
omy, little more is in view than an acquaintance with the
several parts ; and, for this purpose, the sorriest picture of
the muscles may serve very well : but in Rome the most
exquisite parts would not even be noticed, unless as helping
to make a noble and beautiful form.
In the great Lazaretto of San Spirito, there has been pre-
pared, for the use of the artists, a very fine anatomical
figure, displaying the whole muscular system. Its beauty is
really amazing. It might pass for some flayed demigod, —
even a Marsyas.
Thus, after the example of the ancients, men here study
the human skeleton, not merely as an artistically arranged
series of bones, but rather for the sake of the ligaments with
which life and motion are carried on.
When now I tell you that in the evening we also study per-
214 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
spective, it must be pretty plain to you that we are not idle.
With all our studies, however, we are always hoping to do
more than we ever accomplish.
Rome, Jan. 22, 1787.
Of the artistic sense of Germans, and of their artistic
life, — of these one may well say, One hears sounds, but they
are not in unison. When now I bethink myself what glori-
ous objects are in my neighborhood, and how little I have
profited by them, I am almost tempted to despair ; but then,
again, I console myself with my promised return, when I
hope to be able to understand these masterpieces, around
which now I go groping miserably in the dark.
But, in fact, even in Rome itself, there is but little pro-
vision made for one who earnestly wishes to study art as a
whole. He must patch it up and put it together for himself
out of endless, but still gorgeously rich, ruins. No doubt
but few of those who visit Rome are purely and earnestly
desirous to see and to learn things rightly and thoroughly.
They all follow, more or less, their own fancies and conceits ;
and this is observed by all alike who attend upon the stran-
gers. Every guide has his own object, every one has his
own dealer to recommend, his own artist to favor ; and why
should he not? for does not the inexperienced at once prize
as most excellent whatever may be presented to him as
such.
It would have been a great benefit to the study of art —
indeed a peculiarly rich museum might have been formed —
if the government (whose permission even at present must
be obtained before any piece of antiquity can be removed
from the city) had on such occasions invariably insisted on
casts of the objects removed being delivered to it. Besides,
if any pope had established such a rule, before long every
one would have opposed all further removals ; for in a few
years people would have been frightened at the number and
value of the treasures thus carried off, — to do which, there
is a way of obtaining permission secretly, on some occasions,
and by all manner of means.
Jan. 22, 1787.
The representation of the " Aristodemo" has stimulated,
in an especial degree, the patriotism of our German artists,
which before was far from being asleep. They never omit
an occasion to speak well of my "Iphigenia." Some pas-
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 215
sages have from time to time been again called for, and I
have found myself at last compelled to a second reading of
the whole. And thus also I have discovered many passages
which went off the tongue more smoothly than they look on
the paper.
The favorable report of it has at last sounded even in the
ears of Reiffenstein and Angelica, who entreated that I
should produce my work once more for their gratification.
I begged, however, for a brief respite ; though I was obliged
to describe to them, somewhat circumstantially, the plan and
movement of the plot. The description won the approbation
of these personages more even than I could have hoped for ;
and Signor Zucchi also, of whom I least of all expected it,
evinced a warm and liberal sympathy with the play. The
latter circumstance, however, is easily accounted for by the
fact that the drama approximates very closely to the old
and customary form of Greek, French, and Italian tragedy,
which is most agreeable to every one whose taste has not
been spoilt by the temerities of the English stage.
Rome, Jan. 25, 1787.
It becomes every day more difficult to fix the termination
of my stay in Rome : just as one finds the sea continually
deeper the farther one sails on it, so it is also with the
examination of this city.
It is impossible to understand the present without a knowl-
edge of the past ; and to compare the two, requires both time
and leisure. The very site of the city carries us back to
the time of its being founded. We see at once that no great
people, under a wise leader, settled here from its wanderings,
and with wise forecast laid the foundations of the seat of
future empire. No powerful prince would ever have selected
this spot as well suited for the habitation of a colony. No !
herdsmen and vagabonds first prepared here a dwelling for
themselves : a couple of adventurous youths laid the founda-
tion of the palaces of the masters of the world on the hill at
the foot of which, amidst the marshes and reeds, they had
defied the officers of law and justice. Moreover, the seven
hills of Rome are not elevations above the land which lies
beyond them, but merely above the Tiber and its ancient
bed, which afterwards became the Campus Martius. If the
coming spring is favorable to my making wider excursions
in the neighborhood, I shall be able to describe more fully
the unfavorable site. Even now I feel the most heartfelt
216 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
sympathy with the grief and lamentation of the women of
Alba when they saw their city destroyed, and were forced to
leave its beautiful site, the choice of a wise prince and leader,
to share the fogs of the Tiber, and to people the miserable
Coelian Hill, from which their eyes still viewed the paradise
they had quitted.
I know as yet but little of the neighborhood, but I am
perfectly convinced that no city of the ancient world was so
badly situated as Rome. No wonder, then, that the Romans,
as soon as they had swallowed up all the neighboring states,
went out of it, and, with their villas, returned to the noble
sites of the cities they had destroyed, in order to live and to
enjoy life.
It suggests a very pleasing contemplation to think how
many people are living here in retirement, calmly occupied
with their several tastes and pursuits. In the house of a
clergyman, who, without any particular natural talent, has
nevertheless devoted himself to the arts, we saw most inter-
esting copies of some excellent paintings which he had im-
itated in miniature. His most successful attempt was after
the Last Supper of Leonardo da Vinci. The moment of
time is when the Lord, who is sitting familiarly at supper
with his disciples, utters the awful words, " One of you
shall betray me."
Hopes are entertained that he will allow an engraving to
be taken, either of this, or of another copy on which he is at
present engaged. It will be indeed a rich present to give to
the great public a faithful imitation of this gem of art.
A few days since I visited, at the Trinita de' Monti,
Father Jacquier, a Franciscan. He is a Frenchman by
birth, and well known by his mathematical writings ; and
although far advanced in years, is still very agreeable and
intelligent. He has been acquainted with all the most dis-
tinguished men of his day ; and has even spent several
months with Voltaire, who had a great liking for him.
I have also become acquainted with many more of such
good, sterling men, of whom countless numbers are to be
found here, whom, however, a sort of professional mistrust
keeps estranged from each other. The book-trade furnishes
no point of union, and literary novelties are seldom fruitful ;
and so it befits the solitary to seek out the hermits. For
since the acting of " Aristodemo," in whose favor we made
a very lively demonstration. I have been again much sought
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 217
after, but it was quite clear I was not sought for my own
sake : it was always with a view to strengthen a party, to
use me as an instrument ; and if I had been willing to come
forward and declare my side, I also, as a phantom, should
for a time have played a short part. But now, since they
see that nothing is to be made of me, they let me pass ; and
so I go steadily on my own way.
Indeed, my existence has lately taken in some ballast,
which gives it the necessary gravity. I do not now frighten
myself with the spectres which used so often to play before
my eyes. Be, therefore, of good heart. You will keep me
above water, and draw me back again to you.
Rome, Jan. 28, 1787.
Two considerations which more or less affect every thing,
and to which one is compelled at every moment to give way,
I must not fail to set down, now that they have become quite
clear to me.
First of all, then, the vast and yet merely fragmentary
riches of this city, and each single object of art, are constantly
suggesting the question, To what date does it owe its exist-
ence? Winckelmann urgently calls upon us to separate
epochs, to distinguish the different styles which the several
masters employed, and the way in which, in the course of
time, they gradually perfected, and at last corrupted them
again. Of the necessity of so doing, every real friend of
art is soon thoroughly convinced. We all acknowledge the
justice and importance of the requisition. But now how to
attain to this conviction ? However clearly and correctly the
notion itself may be conceived, yet without long prepara-
tory labors there will always be a degree of vagueness and
obscurity as to the particular application. A sure eye,
strengthened by many years' exercise, is above all else ne-
cessary. Here hesitation or reserve are of no avail. Atten-
tion, however, is now directed to this point ; and every one
who is in any degree in earnest seems convinced that in this
domain a sure judgment is impossible, unless it has been
formed by historical study,
The second consideration refers exclusively to the arts of
the Greeks, and endeavors to ascertain how those inimitable
artists proceeded in their successful attempts to evolve from
the human form their system of divine types, which is so
perfect and complete, that neither any leading character nor
any intermediate shade or transition is wanting. For my
218 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
part, I cannot withhold the conjecture that they proceeded
according to the same laws by which Nature works, and
which I am endeavoring to discover. Only, there is in them
something else, which I know not how to express.
Rome, Feb. 2, 1787.
Of the beauty of a walk through Rome by moonlight it is
impossible to form a conception, without having witnessed
it. All single objects are swallowed up by the great masses
of light and shade, and nothing but grand and general out-
lines present themselves to the eye. For three several days
we have enjoyed to the full the brightest and most glorious
of nights, Peculiarly beautiful, at such a time, is the Coli-
seum. At night it is always closed. A hermit dwells in a
little shrine within its range, and beggars of all kinds nestle
beneath its crumbling arches : the latter had lit a fire on the
arena, and a gentle wind bore down the smoke to the ground,
so that the lower portion of the ruins was quite hid by it ;
while, above, the vast walls stood out in deeper darkness
before the eye. As we stopped at the gate to contemplate
the scene through the iron gratings, the moon shone brightly
in the heavens above. Presently the smoke found its way
up the sides, and through every chink and opening, while
the moon lit it up like a cloud. The sight was exceedingly
glorious. In such a light one ought also to see the Pan-
theon, the Capitol, the Portico of St. Peter's, and the grand
streets and squares. And thus sun and moon, as well
as the human mind, have here to do a work quite different
from what they produce elsewhere, — here where vast and
yet elegant masses present themselves to their rays.
Rome, Feb. 13, 1787.
I must mention a trifling fall of luck, even though it is but
a little one. However, all luck, whether great or little, is of
one kind, and always brings a joy with it. Near the Trinita
de' Monti, the ground has been lately dug up to form a
foundation for the new Obelisk ; and now the whole of this
region is choked up with the ruins of the Gardens of Lucullus,
which subsequently became the property of the emperors.
My perruquier was passing early one morning by the spot,
and found in the pile of earth a flat piece of burnt clay with
some figures on it. Having washed it, he showed it to me.
I eagerly secured the treasure. It is not quite a span long,
and seems to have been part of the stem of a great key.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 219
Two old men stand before an altar : they are of the most
beautiful workmanship, and I am uncommonly delighted
with my new acquisition. Were they on a cameo, one would
greatly like to use it as a seal.
I have by me a collection also of many other objects ; and
none is worthless or unmeaning, — for that is impossible :
here every thing is instructive and significant. But my dear-
est treasure, however, is even that which I carry with me in
my soul, and which, ever growing, is capable of a still
greater growth.
Rome, Feb. 15, 1787.
Before departing for Naples, I could not get off from
another public reading of my ' ' Iphigenia. ' ' Madam Angelica
and Hofrath Reiffenstein were the auditory ; and even Signor
Zucchi had solicited to be present, because it was the wish
of his wife. During the reading, however, he worked away
at a great architectural plan ; for he is very skilful in exe-
cuting drawings of this kind, and especially the decorative
parts. He went with Clerisseau to Dalmatia, and was the
associate of all his labors, drawing the buildings and ruins for
the plates which the latter published. In this occupation
he learned so much of perspective and effect, that in his old
days he is able to amuse himself on paper in a very rational
manner.
The tender soul of Angelica listened to the piece with
incredible profoundness of sympathy. She promised me a
drawing of one of the scenes, which T am to keep in remem-
brance of her. And now, just as I am about to quit Rome,
I begin to feel myself tenderly attached to these kind-hearted
people. It is a source of mingled feelings of pleasure and
regret to know that people are sorry to part with you.
Rome, Feb. 16, 1787.
The safe arrival of ' ' Iphigenia ' ' has been announced to
me in a most cheering and agreeable way. On my way
to the opera, a letter from a well-known hand was brought to
me, and was this time doubly welcome, having been sealed
with the " Lion," — a premonitory token of the safe arrival
of my packet. I hurried into the opera-house, and bustled to
get a place among the strange faces beneath the great chan-
delier. At this moment I felt myself drawn so close to my
friends, that I could almost have sprung forward to embrace
them. From my heart I thank you even for having simply
220 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
mentioned the arrival of the " Iphigenia." May your next
be accompanied with a few kind words of approval !
Enclosed is the list of those among whom I wish the copies
I am to expect from Gosche to be distributed ; for although
it is with me a perfect matter of indifference how the public
may receive these matters, still I hope by them to furnish
some gratification to my friends at least.
One undertakes too much. When I think of my last four
volumes together, I become almost giddy : I am obliged to
take them up separately, and then the fit passes off.
I should, perhaps, have done better had I kept my first
resolution to send these things, one by one, into the world,
and so undertake with fresh vigor and courage the new sub-
jects which have most recently awakened my sympathy.
Should I not, perhaps, do better were I to write the "Iphi-
genia at Delphi," instead of amusing myself with my fanci-
ful sketches of " Tasso." However, I have bestowed upon
the latter too much of my thoughts to give it up, and let it
fall to the ground.
I am sitting in the ante-room, near the chimney : and the
warmth of a fire, for once well fed, gives me courage to
commence a fresh sheet ; for it is indeed a glorious thing to
be able with our newest thoughts to reach into the distance,
and by words to convey thither an idea of our immediate
state and circumstances. The weather is right glorious, the
days are sensibly lengthening, the laurels and box are in
blossom, as also are the almond-trees. Early this morning
I was delighted with a strange sight : I saw in the distance
tall, pole-like trees, covered over and over with the loveliest
violet flowers. On a closer examination I found it was the
plant known in our hot-houses as the Judas-tree, and to
botanists as the cercis siliquastrtim. Its papilionaceous
violet blossoms are produced directly from out of the stem.
The stakes which I saw had been lopped last winter, an
out of their bark well shaped and deeply tinted flowers were
bursting by thousands. The daisies are also springing out
of the ground as thick as ants : the crocus and the pheas-
ant' s-eye are more rare, but even on this account more ricl
and ornamental.
What pleasures and what lessons the more southern land
will impart to me, and what new results will arise to me
from them ! With the things of nature it is as with those
of art : much as is written about them, every one who sees
them forms them into new combinations for himself.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 221
When I think of Naples, and indeed of Sicily ; when I
read their history, or look at views of them, — it strikes me
as singular that it should be even in these paradises of the
World that the volcanic mountains manifest themselves so
violently, for thousands of years alarming and confounding
their inhabitants.
But I willingly drive out of my head the expectation of
these much-prized scenes, in order that they may not lessen
my enjoyment of the capital of the whole world before I
leave it.
For the last fourteen days I have been moving about from
morning to night. I am raking up every thing I have not yet
seen. I am also viewing, for a second or even for a third
time, .all the most important objects : and they are all arran-
ging themselves in tolerable order within my mind ; for while
the chief objects are taking their right places, there is space
and room between them for many a less important one. My
enthusiasm is purifying itself, and becoming more decided ;
and now, at last, my mind can rise to the height of the
greatest and purest creations of art with calm admiration.
In my situation one is tempted to envy the artist, who, by
copies and imitations of some kind or other, can, as it were,
come near to those great conceptions, and grasp them better
than one who merely looks at and reflects upon them. In
the end, however, every one feels he must do his best ; and
so I set all the sails of my intellect, in the hope of getting
round this coast.
The stove is at present thoroughly warm, and piled up
with excellent coals, which is seldom the case with us, as no
one scarcely has time or inclination to attend to the fire two
whole hours together. I will, therefore, avail nryself of this
agreeable temperature to rescue from my tablets a few notes
which are almost obliterated.
On the 2d of February we attended the ceremony of
blessing the tapers in the Sistine Chapel. I was in any thing
but a good humor, and shortly went off again with my
friends : for I thought to myself, those are the very candles,
which, for these three hundred years, have been dimming
those noble paintings ; and it is their smoke, which, with
priestly impudence, not merely hangs in clouds around the
only sun of art, but from year to year obscures it more and
more, and will at last envelop it in total darkness.
We then sought the open air, and after a long walk came
upon St. Onofrio's, in a corner of which Tasso is buried. In
222 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
the library of the monastery, there is a bust of him : the face
is of wax, and I please myself with fancying that it was
taken after death. Although the lines have lost some of their
sharpness, and it is in some parts injured, still, on the whole,
it serves better than any other I have yet seen to convey an
idea of a talented, sensitive, and refined but reserved char-
acter.
So much for this time. I must now turn to glorious
Volckmann's second part, which contains Rome, and which I
have not yet seen. Before I start for Naples, the harvest
must be housed : good days are coming for binding the
sheaves.
Rome, Feb. 17, 1787.
The weather is incredibly and inexpressibly beautiful. For
the whole of February, with the exception of four rainy
days, a pure bright sky, and the days towards noon almost
too warm ! One is tempted out into the open air ; and if, till
lately, one spent all his time in the city among gods and
heroes, the country has now all at once resumed its rights,
and one can scarcely tear one's self from the surrounding
scenes, lit up as they are with the most glorious days.
Many a time does the remembrance come across me, how
our northern artists labor to gain a charm from thatched
roofs and ruined towers, — how they turn round and round
every bush and bourn, and crumbling rock, in the hope of
catching some picturesque effect ; and I have been quite sur-
prised at myself, when I find these things from habit still
retaining a hold upon me. Be this as it may, however, with-
in this last fortnight I have plucked up a little courage, and,
sketch-book in hand, have wandered up and down the hollows
and heights of the neighboring villas, and, without much
consideration, have sketched off a few little objects char-
acteristically southern and Roman, and am now trying (if
good luck will come to my aid) to give them the requisite
lights and shades.
It is a singular fact, that it is easy enough to clearly see
and to acknowledge what is good and better, but that when
one attempts to make them his own, and to grasp them,
somehow or other they slip away, as it were, from between
one's fingers ; and we apprehend them, not by the standard
of the true and right, but in accordance with our previous
habits of thought and tastes. It is only by constant prac-
tice that we can hope to improve ; but where am I to find
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 228
time and a collection of models? Still, T do feel myself a
little improved by the sincere and earnest efforts of the last
fortnight.
The artists are ready enough with their hints and instruc-
tions, for I am quick in apprehending them. But then the
lesson so quickly learnt and understood, is not so easily put
in practice. To apprehend quickly is, forsooth, the attribute
of the mind ; but correctly to execute that, requires the prac-
tice of a life.
And yet the amateur, however weak may be his efforts at
imitation, need not be discouraged. The few lines which I
scratch upon the paper, often hastily, seldom correctly facili-
tate any conception of sensible objects ; for one advances
to an idea more surely and more steadily, the more accur-
ately and precisely he considers individual objects.
Only it will not do to measure one's self with artists : every
one must go on in his own style. For nature has made
provision for all her children : the meanest is not hindered
in its existence, even by that of the most excellent. "A
little man is still a man ; ' ' and with this remark we will let
the matter drop.
I have seen the sea twice, — first the Adriatic, then the
Mediterranean, — but only just to look at it. In Naples we
hope to become better acquainted with it. All within me
seems suddenly to urge me on : why not sooner — why not
at a less sacrifice? How many thousand things, some quite
new, and from the beginning, I could still communicate !
Rome, Feb. 17, 1787.
Evening after the follies of the Carnival.
I am sorry to go away and leave Moritz alone. He is going
on well ; but when he is left to himself, he immediately shuts
himself up and is lost to the world. I have therefore ex-
horted him to write to Herder : the letter is enclosed. I
should wish for an answer which may be serviceable and
helpful to him. He is a strange good fellow : he would have
been far more so, had he occasionally met with a friend sen-
sible and affectionate enough to enlighten him as to his true
state. At present he could not form an acquaintance likely
to be more blessed to him than Herder's, if permitted fre-
quently to write to him. He is at this moment engaged on a
very laudable antiquarian attempt, which well deserves to be
encouraged. Friend Herder could scarcely bestow his cares
better, nor sow his good advice on more grateful soil.
224 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
The great portrait of myself which Tisehbein has taken in
hand begins already to stand out from the canvas. The
painter has employed a clever statuary to make him a little
model in clay, which is elegantly draped with the mantle.
With this he is working away diligently ; for it must, he says,
be brought to a certain point before we set out for Naples,
and it takes no little time merely to cover so large a field of
canvas with colors.
Rome, Feb. 19, 1787.
The weather continues to be finer than words can express.
This has been a day miserably wasted among fools. At
night-fall I betook myself to the Villa Medici. A new moon
has just shone upon us, and below the slender crescent T
could with the naked eye discern almost the whole of the
dark disc through the perspective. Over the earth hangs
that haze of the day which the paintings of Claude have ren-
dered so well known. In Nature, however, the phenomenon
is perhaps nowhere so beautiful as it is here. Flowers are
now springing out of the earth, and the trees putting forth
blossoms which hitherto I have been unacquainted with. The
almonds are in blossom, and between the dark green oaks
they make an appearance as beautiful as it is new to me.
The sky is like a bright blue taffeta in the sunshine : what
will it be in Naples? Almost every thing here is already
green. My botanical whims gain food and strength from all
around ; and I am on the way to discover new and beautiful
connections by means of which Nature — that vast prodigy
which yet is nowhere visible — evolves the most manifold
varieties out of the most simple.
Vesuvius is throwing out both ashes and stones : in the
evening its summit appears to glow. May travailing Nature
only favor us with a stream of lava ! I can scarcely endure
to wait till it shall be really my lot to witness such grand
phenomena.
Rome, Feb. 21, 1787.
Ash Wednesday.
The folly is now at an end. The countless lights of yes-
terday evening were, however, a strange spectacle. One must
have seen the Carnival in Rome to get entirely rid of the wish
to see it again. Nothing can be written of it : as a subject of
conversation it may be amusing enough. The most unpleas-
ant feeling about it is, thai real internal joy is wanting.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 225
There is a lack of money, which prevents their enjoying what
morsel of pleasure they might otherwise still feel in it. The
great are economical, and hold back ; those of the middle
ranks are without the means ; and the populace without
spring or elasticity. In the last days there was an incredible
tumult, but no heartfelt jo} T . The sky, so infinitely fine and
clear, looked down nobly and innocently upon the mumme-
ries.
However, as imitation is out of the question, and cannot
be thought of here, I send you, to amuse the children, some
drawings of carnival masks, and some ancient Roman cos-
tumes, which are also colored, as they may serve to supply a
missing chapter in the " Orbis Pictus."
Rome, Feb. 21, 1787.
I snatch a few moments in the intervals of packing, to
mention some particulars which I have hitherto omitted.
To-morrow we set off for Naples. I am already delighting
myself with the new scenery, which I promise myself will be
inexpressibly beautiful, and hope, in this paradise of nature,
to win fresh freedom and pleasure for the study of ancient
art on my return to sober Rome.
Packing up is light work to me ; since I can now do it with
a merrier heart than I had some six months ago, when I had
to tear myself from all that was most dear and precious to
me. Yes, it is now full six months since ; and of the four
months I have spent in Rome, not a moment has been lost.
The boast may sound big : nevertheless, it does not say
too much.
That "Iphigenia " has arrived, I know. May I learn, at
the foot of Vesuvius, that it has met with a hearty welcome !
That Tischbein, who possesses as glorious an eye for na-
ture as for art, is to accompany me on this journey, is to
me the subject of great congratulation : still, as genuine
Germans, we cannot throw aside all purposes and thoughts
of work. We have bought the best drawing-paper, and
intend to sketch away ; although, in all probability, the
multitude, the beauty, and the splendor of the objects, will
choke our good intentions.
One conquest I have gained over myself. Of all my
unfinished poetical works, I shall take with me none but the
" Tasso," of which I have the best hopes. If I could only
know what you are now saying to " Iphigenia," your remarks
might be some guide to me in my present labors ; for the plan
226 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
of " Tasso " is very similar, the subject still more confined,
and in its several parts will be even still more elaborately
finished. Still, I cannot tell as yet what it will eventually
prove. What already exists of it must be destroyed. It
is, perhaps, somewhat tediously drawn out ; and neither the
characters nor the plot, nor the tone of it, are at all in har-
mony with my present views.
In making a clearance I have fallen upon some of your
letters ; and, in reading them over, I have just lighted upon a
reproach, that in my letters I contradict myself. It may be
so, but I was not aware of it ; for, as soon as I have written
a letter, I immediately send it off. I must, however, confess
that nothing seems to me more likely, for I have lately been
tossed about b} T mighty spirits ; and, therefore, it is quite
natural if at times I know not where I am standing.
A story is told of a skipper, who, overtaken at sea by a
stormy night, determined to steer for port. His little boy,
who in the dark was crouching by him, asked him, "What
silly light is that which I see, — at one time above us, and at
another below us? " His father promised to explain it to
him some other day ; and then he told him that it was the
beacon of the lighthouse, which to the eye, now raised, now
depressed, by the wild waves, appeared accordingly, some-
times above, and sometimes below. I, too, am steering on a
passion-tossed sea for the harbor ; and if I can only manage
to hold steadily in my eye the gleam of the beacon, however
it may seem to change its place, I shall at last enjoy the
wished-for shore.
When one is on the eve of a departure, every earlier sepa-
ration, and also that last one of all, and which is yet to be,
comes involuntarily into one's thoughts ; and so, on this
occasion, the reflection enforces itself on my mind more
strongly than ever, that man is always making far too great
and too many preparations for life. Thus we — Tischbein
and I, that is — must soon turn our backs upon many a pre-
cious and glorious object, and even upon our well-furnished
museum. In it there are now standing three Junos for com-
parison, side by side ; and yet we part from them as though
they were not.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 227
NAPLES.
Velletrt, Feb. 22, 1787.
We arrived here in good time. The day before yesterday
the weather became gloomy, and our fine days were over-
cast : still, some signs of the air seemed to promise that it
would soon clear up again ; and so, indeed, it turned out.
The clouds gradually broke ; here and there appeared the
blue sky ; and at last the sun shone full on our journey. We
came through Albano, after having stopped before Genzano,
at the entrance of a park, which the owner, Prince Chigi, in
a very strange way holds, but does not keep up, on which
account he will not allow any one to enter it. In it a true
wilderness has been formed. Trees and shrubs, plants and
weeds, grow, wither, fall, and rot at pleasure. That is all
right, and, indeed, could not be better. The expanse before
the entrance is inexpressibly fine. A high wall encloses the
valley ; a lattice gate affords a view into it ; then the hill
ascends, upon which, above you, stands the castle.
But now I dare not attempt to go on with the description ;
and I can merely say, that at the very moment when from
the summit we caught sight of the mountains of Sezza, the
Pontine Marshes, the sea and its islands, a heavy passing
shower was traversing the Marshes towards the sea ; and the
light and shade, constantly changing and moving, wonder-
fully enlivened and variegated the dreary plain. The effect
was beautifully heightened by the sun's beams, which lit up
with various hues the columns of smoke as they ascended
from scattered and scarcely visible cottages.
Velletri is agreeably situated on a volcanic hill, which
towards the north alone is connected with other hills, and
towards three points of the heavens commands a wide and
uninterrupted prospect,
We here visited the cabinet of the Cavaliere Borgia, who,
favored by his relationship with the cardinal, has managed,
by means of the Propaganda, to collect some valuable an-
tiquities and other curiosities — Egyptian charms ; idols cut
out of the hardest rock ; some small figures in metal, of ear-
lier or later dates ; some pieces of statuary of burnt clay,
with figures in low relief, w T hich were dug up in the neighbor-
hood, and on the authority of which, one is almost tempted
to ascribe to the ancient indigenous population a style of
their own in art.
Goethe— It Vol 4
228
LETTERS FROM ITALY.
Of other kinds of varieties, there are numerous specimens
in this museum. I noticed two Chinese black-painted boxes :
on the sides of one, there was delineated the whole manage-
ment of the silk- worm, and on the other the cultivation of
rice. Both subjects were very nicely conceived, and worked
out with the utmost minuteness. Both the boxes and their
covers are eminently beautiful, and, as well as the book in
the library of the Propaganda, which I have already praised,
are well worth seeing.
It is certainly inexplicable that these treasures should be
within so short a distance of Rome, and yet not be more
frequently visited ; but perhaps the difficulty and inconven-
ience of getting to these regions, and the attraction of the
magic circle of Rome, may serve to excuse the fact. As we
arrived at the inn, some women, who" were sitting before the
doors of their houses, called out to us, and asked if we wished
to buy any antiquities ; and then, as .we showed a pretty
strong hankering after them, they brought out some old ket-
tles, fire-tongs, and such like utensils, and were ready to die
with laughing at having made fools of us. When we seemed
a little put out, our guide assured us, to our comfort, that it
was a customary joke, and that all strangers had to submit
to it.
I am writing this in very miserable quarters, and feel
neither strength nor humor to make it any longer : therefore,
I bid you a very good night.
Fondi, Feb. 23, 1787.
We were on the road very early, ; — by three in the morn-
ing. As the day broke, we found ourselves on the Pontino
Marshes, which have not by any means so ill an appearance
as the common description in Rome would make out. Of
course, by merely passing once over the Marshes, it is not
possible to judge of so great an undertaking as that of
the intended draining of them, which necessarily requires
time to test its merits : still, it does appear to me that the
works, which have been commenced by the Pope's orders,
will, to a great extent at least, attain the desired end.
Conceive to yourself a wide valley, which, as it stretches
from north to south, has but a very slight fall, but which,
towards the east and the mountains, is extremely low, but
rises again considerably towards the sea on the west. Run-
ning in a straight line through the whole length of it, the
ancient Via Appia has been restored. On the right of the
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 229
latter the principal drain has been cut, and in it the water
flows with a rapid fall. By means of it the tract of land to
the right has been drained, and is now profitably cultivated.
As far as the eye can see, it is either already brought into
cultivation, or evidently might be so if farmers could be
found to take it, with the exception of one spot which lies
extremely low.
The left side, which stretches towards the mountains, is
more difficult to be managed. Here, however, cross-drains
pass under the raised way into the chief drain : as, however,
the surface sinks again towards the mountains, it is impossi-
ble b} T this means to cany off the water entirely. To meet
this difficulty, it is proposed, I was told, to cut another lead-
ing drain along the foot of the mountains. Large patches,
especially towards Terracina, are thinly planted with wil-
lows and poplars.
The posting-stations consist merely of long thatched sheds.
Tischbein sketched one of them, and enjoyed for his reward
a gratification which only he could enjoy. A white horse
having broken loose, had fled to the drained lands. Enjoy-
ing its liberty, it was galloping up and down on the brown
turf like a flash of lightning. In truth, it was a glorious
sight, rendered significant by Tischbein's rapture.
At the point where the ancient village of Meza once stood,
the Pope has caused to be built a large and fine building,
which indicates the centre of the level. The sight of it in-
creases one's hopes and confidence of the success of the
whole undertaking. While thus we travelled on, we kept up
a lively conversation together, not forgetting the warning,
that on this journey one must not go to sleep ; and, in fact,
we were strongly enough reminded of the danger of the
atmosphere, by the blue vapor which, even in this season
of the year, hangs above the ground. On this account the
more delightful, as it was the more longed for, was the rocky
site of Terracina ; and scarcely had we congratulated our-
selves at the sight of it, than we caught a view of the sea
beyond. Immediately afterwards the other side of the moun-
tain city presented to our eye a vegetation quite new to us.
The Indian figs were pushing their large fleshy leaves amidst
the gray green of dwarf myrtles, the yellowish green of the
pomegranate, and the pale green of the olive. As we passed
along, we noticed some flowers and shrubs such as we had
never seen before. On the meadows the narcissus and the
adonis were in flower. For a long time the sea was on our
230
LETTERS FROM ITALY.
right, while close to us on the left ran an unbroken range
of limestone rocks. It is a continuation of the Apennines,
running down from Tivoli and touching the sea, which they
do not leave again till you reach the Campagna di Romana,
where it is succeeded by the volcanic formations of Frescati,
Alba, and Velletri, and lastly by the Pontine Marshes.
Monte Circello, with the opposite promontory of Terracina,
where the Pontine Marshes terminate, probably consists also
of a system of chalk rocks.
We left the seacoast, and soon reached the charming plain
of Fondi. Every one must admire this little spot of fertile
and well cultivated land, enclosed with hills, which them-
selves are by no means wild. Oranges in great numbers
are still hanging on the trees ; the crops, all of wheat, are
beautifully green ; olives are growing in the fields ; and the
little city is in the bottom. A palm-tree, which stood out a
marked object in the scenery, received our greetings. So
much for this evening. Pardon the scrawl. I must write
without thinking, for writing's sake. The objects are too
numerous, my resting-place too wretched, and yet my desire
to commit something to paper too great. With nightfall we
reached this place, and it is now time to go to rest.
S. Agata. Feb. 24, 1787.
Although in a wretchedly cold chamber, I must yet try and
give you some account of a beautiful day. It was already
nearly light when we drove out of Fondi, and we were forth-
with greeted by the orange-trees which hang over the walls
on both sides of our road. The trees are loaded with such
numbers as can only be imagined, and not expressed.
Towards the top the young leaf is yellowish, but below, and
in the middle, of sappy green. Mignon was quite right to
long for them.
After this we travelled through clean and well-worked
fields of wheat, planted at convenient distances with olive-
trees. A soft breeze was moving, and brought to the light
the silvery under-surface of the leaves, as the branches
swayed gently and elegantly. It was a gray morning : a north
wind promised soon to dispel all the clouds.
Then the road entered a valley between stony but well-
dressed fields, — the crops of the most beautiful green. At
certain spots one saw some roonry places, paved, and sur-
rounded with low walls : on these the corn, which is never
carried home in sheaves, is thrashed out at once. The val-
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 231
ley gradually narrows, and the road becomes mountainous,
bare rocks of limestone standing on both sides of us. A
violent storm followed us, with a fall of sleet, which thawed
very slowly.
The walls, of an ancient style, built after the pattern of
net- work, charmed us exceedingly. On the heights the soil
is rocky, but nevertheless planted with olive-trees wherever
there is the smallest patch of soil to receive them. Next we
drove over a plain covered with olive-trees, and then through
a small town. We here noticed altars, ancient tomb-stones,
and fragments of every kind, built up in the walls of the
pleasure-houses in the gardens ; then the lower stories of
ancient villas, once excellently built, but now filled up with
earth, and overgrown with olives. At last we caught a sight
of Vesuvius, with a cloud of smoke resting on its brow.
Molo di Gaeta greeted us again with the richest of orange-
trees : we remained there some hours. The creek before the
town, which the tide flows up to, affords one of the finest
views. Following the line of coast on the right, till the eye
reaches at last the horn of the crescent, one sees at a mod-
erate distance the fortress of Gaeta on the rocks. The left
horn stretches out still farther, presenting to the beholder
first of all a line of mountains, then Vesuvius, and, beyond
all, the islands. Ischia lies before you, nearly in the centre.
Here I found on the shore, for the first time in my life, a
starfish and an echinus thrown up by the sea ; a beautiful
green leaf (tethys foliacea) , smooth as the finest bath-paper ;
and other remarkable rubble-stones, the most common being
limestone, but occasionally also serpentine, jasper, quartz,
granite, breccian pebbles, porphyry, marble of different
kinds, and glass of a blue and green color. The two last-
mentioned specimens are scarcely productions of the neigh-
borhood. They are probably the debris of ancient buildings ;
and thus we have seen the waves before our eyes playing
with the splendors of the ancient world. We tarried a while,
and pleased ourselves with meditating on the nature of man,
whose hopes, whether in the civilized or savage state, are so
soon disappointed.
Departing from Molo, the traveller still has a beautiful
prospect, even after his quitting the sea. The last glimpse of
it was a lovely ba} r , of which we took a sketch. We now
came upon a good fruit country, with hedges of aloes. We
noticed an aqueduct, which ran from the mountains over
some nameless and orderless masses of ruins.
232 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
Next comes the ferry over the Garigliano. After crossing
it, you pass through tolerably fruitful districts, till you reach
the mountains. Nothing striking. At length the first hill
of lava. Here begins an extensive and glorious district of
hill and vale, over which the snowy summits are towering in
the distance. On the nearest eminence, lies a long town,
which strikes the eye with an agreeable effect. In the val-
ley, lies S. Agata, a considerable inn, where a cheerful fire
was burning in a chimney arranged as a cabinet : however,
our room is cold, — no window, only shutters, which I am
just hastening to close.
Naples, Feb. 25, 1787.
And here we are happily arrived at last, and with good
omens. Of our day's journey thus much only. We left
8. Agata at sunrise, a violent north-east wind blowing on
our backs, which continued the whole day through. It was
not till noon that it was master of the clouds. We suffered
much from the cold.
Our road again lay among and over volcanic hills, among
which I did not notice many limestone rocks. At last we
reached the plains of Capua, and shortly afterwards Capua
itself, where we halted at noon. In the afternoon a beau-
tiful but flat country lay stretched before us. The road is
broad, and runs through fields of green corn, so even that
it looked like a carpet, and was at least a span high. Along
the fields are planted rows of poplars, from which the
branches are lopped to a great height, that the vines may
run up them : this is the case all the way to Naples. The
soil is excellent, light, loose, and well worked. The vine-
stocks are of extraordinary strength and height, and their
shoots hang in festoons like nets from tree to tree.
Vesuvius was all the while on our left, with a strong smoke ;
and I felt a quiet joy to think that at last I beheld with my
own eyes this most remarkable object. The sky became
clearer and clearer, and at length the sun shone quite hot
into our narrow, rolling lodging. The atmosphere was per-
fectly clear and bright as we approached Naples ; and we
now found ourselves, in truth, in quite another world. The
houses, with flat roofs, at once bespeak a different climate.
Inside, perhaps, they may not be very comfortable. Every
one is in the streets, or sitting in the sun as long as it shines.
The Neapolitan believes himself to be in possession of Para-
dise, and entertains a very melancholy opinion of our north-
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 233
era lands. " Sempre neve, caso di legno,gran ignoranza, ma
danari assai. ' ' Such is the picture they draw of our condition.
Interpreted for the benefit of all our German folk, it means,
" Always snow, wooden houses, great ignorance, but money
enough."
Naples at first sight leaves a free, cheerful, and lively im-
pression. Numberless beings are passing and repassing each
other: the king is gone hunting, the queen pro mising; and
so things could not be better.
Naples, Monday, Feb. 26, 1787.
u Alia Locanda del Sgr. Moriconi al Largo del Castello."
Under this address, no less cheerful than high-sounding,
letters from all the four quarters of heaven will henceforth
find us. Round the castle, which lies by the sea, there
stretches a large open space, which, although surrounded on
all sides with houses, is not called a square, or piazza, but a
largo, or expanse. Perhaps the name is derived from
ancient times, when it was still an open and unenclosed
country. Here, in a corner house on one side of the largo,
we have taken up our lodgings in a corner room, which com-
mands a free and lively view of the ever moving surface.
An iron balcoiry runs before several windows, and even
round the corner. One would never leave it if the sharp
wind were not extremely cutting.
The room is cheerfully decorated, especially the ceiling,
whose arabesques of a hundred compartments bear witness to
the proximity of Pompeii and Herculaneum. Now, all this
is very well and very fine ; but there is no fireplace, no
chimney, and yet February exercises even here its rights.
I expressed a wish for something to warm me. They
brought in a tripod of sufficient height from the ground for
one conveniently to hold one's hands over it: on it was
placed a shallow brasier, full of extremely fine charcoal,
red-hot, but covered smoothly over with ashes. We now
found it an advantage to be able to manage this process of
domestic economy : we had learned that at Rome. With
the ring of a key, from time to time, one cautiously draws
away the ashes of the surface, so that a few of the embers
may be exposed to the free air. AVere you impatiently to
stir up the glowing coals, you would no doubt experience for
a few moments great warmth ; but you would in a short time
exhaust the fuel, and then you must pay a certain sum to
have the brasier filled again.
234 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
I did not feel quite well, and could have wished for more
of ease and comfort. A reed matting was all there was to
protect one's feet from the stone floor : skins are not usual.
I determined to put on a sailor's cloak which we had brought
with us in fun ; and it did me good service, especially when
I tied it round my body with the rope of my box. I must
have looked very comical, something between a sailor and a
capuchin. When Tischbein came back from visiting some
of his friends, and found me in this dress, he could not
refrain from laughing.
Naples, Feb. 27, 1787.
Yesterday I kept quietly at home, in order to get rid of a
slight bodily ailment. To-day has been a regular carouse,
and the time passed rapidly while we visited the most
glorious objects. Let man talk, describe, and paint as he
may, — to be here is more than all. The shore, the creeks,
and the bay, Vesuvius, the city, the suburbs, the castles, the
atmosphere ! In the evening, too, we went into the Grotto
of Posilippo, while the setting sun was shining into it from
the other side. I can pardon all who lose their senses in
Naples ; and I remember with emotion my father, who retained
to the last an indelible impression of those objects which
to-day I have cast eyes upon for the first time. Just as it is
said, that people who have once seen a ghost are never after-
wards seen to smile, so in the opposite sense it may be said
of him, that he never could become perfectly miserable so
long as he remembered Naples. According to my fashion,
I am quite still and calm ; and when any thing happens too
absurd, only open my eyes widely, — very widely.
Naples, Feb. 28, 1787.
To-day we visited Philip Hackert, the famous landscape-
painter, who enjoys the special confidence and peculiar
favor of the king and queen. A wing of the palace Franca
Villa has been assigned to him. Having furnished it with
true artistic taste, he feels great satisfaction in inhabiting it.
He is a very precise and prudent man, who, with untiring
industry, manages, nevertheless, to enjoy life.
After that we took a sail, and saw all kinds of fish and
wonderful shapes drawn out of the waves. The day was
glorious, the tramontane (north winds) tolerable.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 235
Naples, March 1, 1787.
Even in Rome my self-willed, hermit- like humor was forced
to assume a more social aspect than I altogether liked. No
doubt it appears a strange mode of proceeding, to go into the
world in order to be alone : accordingly, I could not resist
Prince von Waldeck, who most kindly invited me, and by
his rank and influence has procured me the enjoyment of
many privileges. We had scarcely reached Naples, where
he has been residing a long while, when he sent us an invita-
tion to pay a visit with him to Puzzuoli and the neighbor-
hood. I was thinking already of Vesuvius for to-day ; but
Tischbein has forced me to take this journey, which, agreea-
ble enough of itself, promises from the fine weather, and the
society of a perfect gentleman and well-educated prince,
very much both of pleasure and profit. We had also seen
in Rome a beautiful lady, who, with her husband, is insepara-
ble from the prince. She also is to be of the party, and we
hope for a most delightful day.
Moreover, I was intimately known to this noble society,
having met them previously. The prince, upon our first
acquaintance, had asked me what I was then busy with ; and
the plan of my " Iphigenia " was so fresh in my recollection,
that I was able one evening to relate it to them circum-
stantially. They entered into it : still, I fancied I could
observe that something livelier and wilder was expected of
me.
Evening.
It would be difficult to give an account of this day. How
often has the cursory reading of a book which irresistibly
carries one with it, exercised the greatest influence on a
man's whole life, and produced at once a decisive effect,
which neither a second perusal nor earnest reflection can
either strengthen or modify. This I experienced in the case
of the " Sakuntala ; " And do not great men affect us some-
what in the same way? A sail to Puzzuoli, little trips by
land, cheerful walks through the most wonderful regions in
the world ! Beneath the purest sky, the most treacherous
soil ; ruins of inconceivable opulence, oppressive and sad-
dening ; boiling waters, clefts exhaling sulphur, rocks of
slag defying vegetable life, bare, forbidding tracts ; and then,
at last, on all sides the most luxuriant vegetation, seizing
every spot and cranny possible, running over every lifeless
object, edgiug the lakes and brooks, and nourishing a glori-
ous wood of oak on the brink of an ancient crater !
236 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
And thus one is driven 'to and fro between nature and the
history of nations : one wishes to meditate, and soon feels
himself quite unfit for it. In the mean time, however, the
living live on merrily, with a joyousness which we, too, would
share. Educated persons, belonging to the world and the
world's ways, but warned by serious events, become, never-
theless, disposed for reflection. A boundless view of land,
sea, and sfy, — and then called away to the side of a young
and amiable lady, accustomed and delighted to receive
homage.
Amidst all this giddy excitement, however, I failed not
to make many notes. The future reduction of these will be
greatly facilitated by the map we consulted on the spot, and
by a hasty sketch of Tischbein's. To-day it is not possible
for me to make the least addition to these.
March 2.
Thursday I ascended Vesuvius ; although the weather was
unsettled, and the summit of the mountain surrounded by
clouds. I took a carriage as far as Resina, and then, on the
back of a mule, began the ascent, having vineyards on both
sides. Next, on foot, I crossed the lava of the year '71, on
the surface of which a fine but compact moss was already
growing ; then upwards on the side of the lava. The hut of
the hermit on the height was on my left hand. After this
we climbed the Ash-hill, which is wearisome walking : two-
thirds of the summit were enveloped in clouds. At last we
reached the ancient crater, now filled up, where we found
recent lava, only two months and fourteen days old, and
also a slight streak of only five days, which was, however,
already cold. Passing over these, we next ascended a
height which had been thrown up by volcanic action : it was
smoking from all its points. As the smoke rolled away from
us, I essayed to approach the crater. Scarcely, however, had
we taken fifty steps in the steam, when it became so dense
that I could scarcely see my shoes. It was to no purpose
that we held snuff continually before our nostrils. My guide
had disappeared, and the footing on the lava lately thrown
up was very unsteady. I therefore thought it right to turn
round, and reserve the sight for a finer day and for less of
smoke. However, I now know how difficult it is to breathe
in such an atmosphere.
Otherwise the mountain was quite still. There was no
flame, no roaring, no stones thrown up, — all which it usually
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 237
does at most times. I reconnoitred it well, with the inten-
tion of regularly storming it as soon as the weather shall
improve. What specimens of lava I found were mostly of
well-known kinds. I noticed, however, a phenomenon
which appeared to me very strange : I intend to examine it
again still more closely, and also to consult connoisseurs and
collectors about it. It is a stalactite incrustation of a part
of the volcanic funnel, which has been thrown down, and
now rears itself in the centre of the old choked-up crater.
This mass of solid grayish stalactite appears to have been
formed by the sublimation of the very finest volcanic evap-
oration, without the co-operation of either moisture or
fusion. It will furnish occasion for further thinking.
To-day, the 3d of March, the sky is covered with clouds,
and a sirocco is blowing. For post-day, good weather.
A very strange medley of men, beautiful houses, and
most singular fishes, are here to be seen in abundance.
Of the situation of the city, and of its glories, which have
been so often described and commended, not a word from
me. " Vedi Napoli e poi muori," is the cry here. " See
Naples, and die."
Naples, March 2, 1787.
That no Neapolitan will allow the merits of his city to be
questioned, that their poets should sing in extravagant
hyperbole of the blessings of its site, are not matters to
quarrel about, even though a pair of Vesuviuses stood in its
neighborhood. Here one almost casts aside all remem-
brances, even of Rome. As compared with this free, open
situation, the capital of the world, in the basin of the Tiber,
looks like a cloister built on a bad site.
The sea, with its vessels and their destinations, presents
wholly new matters for reflection. The frigate for Palermo
started yesterday, with a strong, direct north wind. This
time it certainly will not be more than six and thirty hours
on the passage. With what longing I watched the full sails
as the vessel passed between Capri and Cape Minerva, until
at last it disappeared. Who could see one's beloved thus
sailing away and survive ? The sirocco (south wind) is now
blowing : if the wind becomes stronger, the breakers over
the Mole will be glorious.
To-day being Friday, the grand promenade of the nobility
came on, when every one displays his equipages, and espe-
238 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
cially his stud. It is almost impossible to see finer horses
anywhere than in Naples. For the first time in my life I
have felt an interest in these animals.
Naples, March 3, 1787.
Here you have a few leaves, as reporters of the entertain-
ment I have met with in this place ; also a corner of the
cover of your letter, stained with smoke, in testimony of
its having been with me on Vesuvius. You must not, how-
ever, fancy, either in your waking thoughts or in your
dreams, that I am surrounded by perils. Be assured that
wherever I venture, there is no more danger than on the
road to Belvedere. "The earth is the Lord's everywhere,"
may well be said in reference to such objects. I never seek
adventure out of a mere rage for singularity ; but because I
am mostly cool, and can catch at a glance the peculiarities of
any object, I may well do and venture more than many
others. The passage to Sicily is any thing but dangerous.
A few days ago the frigate sailed for Palermo with a favor-
able breeze from the north, and leaving Capri on the right,
has, no doubt, accomplished the voyage in six and thirty
hours. In all such expeditions, one finds the danger to be
far less in reality than, at a distance, one is apt to imagine.
Of earthquakes, there is not at present a vestige in Lower
Italy. In the upper provinces, Rimini and its neighborhood
have lately suffered. Thus the earth has strange humors ;
and people talk of earthquakes here just as we do of wind
and weather, and as in Thuringia they talk of conflagrations.
I am delighted to find that you are now familiar with the
two editions of my " Iphigenia," but still more pleased
should I be had you been more sensible of the difference
between them. I know what I have done for it, and may
well speak thereof ; since I feel that I could make still
further improvements. If it be a bliss to enjoy the good, it
is still greater happiness to discern the better ; for in art the
best only is good enough.
Naples, March 5, 1787.
We spent the second Sunday of Lent in visiting church
after church. As in Rome all is highly solemn, so here
every hour is merry and cheerful. The Neapolitan school
of painting, too, can only be understood in Naples. One is
astonished to see the whole front of a church painted, from
top to bottom. Over the door of one, Christ is driving out
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 239
of the temple the buyers and sellers, who, terribly fright-
ened, are nimbly huddling up their wares, and hurrying
down the steps on both sides. In another church there is a
room over the entrance, which is richly ornamented with
frescos representing the deprivation of Heliodorus. 1 Luca
Giordano must indeed have painted rapidly, to fill such large
areas in a lifetime. The pulpit, too, is here not always a
mere cathedra, as it is in other places, — a place where one
only may teach at a time, — but a gallery. Along one of these
I once saw a Capuchin walking up and down, and, now from
one end, now from another, reproaching the people with
their sins. What a deal I could say about it !
But neither to be told nor to be described is the glory of a
night of the full moon such as we have enjoyed here.
Wandering through the streets and squares, and on the quay,
with its long promenade, and then backward and forward on
the beach, one felt really possessed with the feeling of the
infinity of space. So to dream is really worth all trouble.
Naples, March 5, 1787.
I made to-day the acquaintance of an excellent individual,
and I must briefly give you a general description of him. It
is the Chevalier Filangieri, famous for his work on legisla-
tion. He belongs to those noble young men who wish to
promote the happiness and the moderate liberty of mankind.
In his bearing you recognize at once the soldier, the cheva-
lier, and the man of the world ; but this appearance is
softened by an expression of tender moral sensibility, which
is diffused over his whole countenance, and shines forth most
agreeably in his character and conversation. He is, more-
over, heartily attached to his sovereign and country, even
though he cannot approve of all that goes on. He is also
oppressed with a fear of Joseph II. The idea of a despot,
even though it only floats as a phantom in the air, excites
the apprehensions of every noble-minded man. He spoke
to me without reserve, of what Naples had to fear from
him ; but in particular he was delighted to speak of Montes-
quieu, Beccaria, and of some of his own writings, — all in the
same spirit of the best intention, and of a heart full of
youthful enthusiasm of doing good. And yet he may one
day be classed with the Thirty. He has also made me
1 Heliodorus, bishop of Tricca, in Thessaly, in the fourth century, author of the
" QSthiopics, or, the Amours of Theagenes and Chariclea," was, it is said, deprived
of bis bishopric for writing this work. — A. W. M.
240 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
acquainted with an old writer, from whose inexhaustible
depths these new Italian friends of legislation derive intense
encouragement and edification. He is called Giambattista
Vico, and is preferred even to Montesquieu. After a hasty
perusal of his book, which was lent to me as a sacred
deposit, I laid it down, saying to myself, Here are sublime
anticipations of good and right, which once must, or ought
to be, realized, drawn apparently from a serious contempla-
tion both of the past and of the present. It is well when a
nation possesses such a forefather : the Germans will one
day receive a similar codex from Hamaun.
Naples, March 6, 1787.
Most reluctantly, yet for the sake of good-fellowship,
Tischbein accompanied me to Vesuvius. To him — the
artist of form, who concerns himself with none but the
most beautiful of human and animal shapes, and one also
whose taste and judgment lead to humanize even the form-
less rock and landscape — such a frightful and shapeless
conglomeration of matter, which, moreover, is continually
preying on itself, and proclaiming war against every idea of
the beautiful, must have appeared utterly abominable.
We started in two caleches, as we did not trust ourselves
to drive through the crowd and whirl of the city. The
drivers kept up an incessant shouting at the top of their
voice whenever donkeys, with their loads of wood or rubbish,
or rolling caleches, met us, or else warning the porters with
their burdens, or other pedestrians, whether children or old
people, to get out of the way. All the while, however,
they drove at a sharp trot, without the least stop or check.
As you get into the remoter suburbs and gardens, the road
soon begins to show signs of a Plutonic action. For as we
had not had rain for a long time, the naturally ever-green
leaves were covered with a thick gray and ashy dust ; so
that the glorious blue sky, and the scorching sun which
shone down upon us, were the only signs that we were still
among the living.
At the foot of the steep ascent, we were received by two
guides, one old, the other young, but both active fellows.
The first pulled me up the path, the other, Tischbein, —
pulled I say : for these guides are girded round the waist with
a leathern belt, which the traveller takes hold of ; and when
drawn up by his guide, he makes his way the more easily
with foot and staff. In this manner wc reached the flat from
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 241
which the cone rises. Towards the north lay the rains of the
Somma.
A glance westwards over the country beneath us, removed,
as well as a bath could, all feeling of exhaustion and fatigue ;
and we now went round the ever-smoking cone, as it threw
out its stones and ashes. Wherever the space allowed of
our viewing it at a sufficient distance, it appeared a grand
and elevating spectacle. In the first place, a violent
thundering resounded from its deepest abyss ; then stones of
larger and smaller sizes were showered into the air by thou-
sands, and enveloped by clouds of ashes. The greatest part
fell again into the gorge : the rest of the fragments, receiving
a lateral inclination, and falling on the outside of the crater,
made a marvellous rumbling noise. First of all, the larger
masses plumped against the side, and rebounded with a dull,
heavy sound ; then the smaller came rattling down ; and last
of all, a shower of ashes was trickling down. All this took
place at regular intervals, which, by slowly counting, we were
able to measure pretty accurately.
Between the Somma, however, and the cone, the space is
narrow enough : moreover, several stones fell around us,
and made the circuit any thing but agreeable. Tischbein now
felt more disgusted than ever with Vesuvius ; as the monster,
not content with being hateful, showed inclination to become
mischievous also.
As, however, the presence of danger generally exercises
on man a kind of attraction, and calls forth a spirit of oppo-
sition in the human breast to defy it, I bethought myself,
that, in the interval of the eruptions, it would be possible to
climb up the cone to the crater, and to get back before it
broke out again. I held a council on this point with our
guides, under one of the overhanging rocks of the Somma,
where, encamped in safety, we refreshed ourselves with the
provisions we had brought with us. The younger guide was
willing to run the risk with me. We stuffed our hats full of
linen and silk handkerchiefs, and, staff in hand, prepared to
start, I holding on to his girdle.
The little stones were yet rattling round us, and the ashes
still drizzling, as the stalwart youth hurried forth with me
across the hot, glowing rubble. We soon stood on the brink
of the vast chasm, the smoke of which, although a gentle air
was bearing it away from us, unfortunately veiled the inte-
rior of the crater, which smoked all round from a thousand
crannies. At intervals, however, we caught sight, through
242 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
the smoke, of the cracked walls of the rock. The view was
neither instructive nor delightful : but for the very reason
that one saw nothing, one lingered in the hope of catching a
glimpse of something more ; and so we forgot our slow
counting. We were standing on a narrow ridge of the vast
abyss : of a sudden the thunder pealed aloud ; we ducked
our heads involuntarily, as if that would have rescued us
from the precipitated masses. The smaller stones soon rat-
tled ; and, without considering that we had again an interval
of cessation before us, and only too much rejoiced to have
outstood the danger, we rushed down, and reached the foot
of the hill, together with the drizzling ashes, which pretty
thickly covered our heads and shoulders.
Tischbein was heartily glad to see me again. After a
little scolding and a little refreshment, I was able to give my
especial attention to the old and new lava. And here the
elder of the guides was able to instruct me accurately in the
signs by which the ages of the several strata were indicated.
The older were already covered with ashes, and rendered
quite smooth : the newer, especially those which had cooled
slowly, presented a singular appearance. As, sliding along,
they carried away with them the solid objects which lay on
the surface, it necessarily happened, that, from time to time,
several would come into contact with each other ; and these
again being swept still farther by the molten stream, and
pushed one over the other, would eventually form a solid
mass, with wonderful jags and corners, still more strange
even than the somewhat similarly formed piles of the ice-
bergs. Among this fused and waste matter I found many
great rocks, which, being struck with a hammer, present on
the broken face a perfect resemblance to the primeval rock
formation. The guides maintained that these were old lava
from the lowest depths of the mountain, which are very often
thrown up by the volcano.
Upon our return to Naples, we noticed some small houses
of only one story, and of a remarkable appearance and sin-
gular build, without windows, and receiving all their light
from the doors, which opened on the road. The inhabitants
sit before them at the door from the morning to the night,
when they at last retire to their holes.
The city, which in the evening is all of a tumult, though
in a somewhat different manner, extorted from me the wish
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 243
that I might be able to stay here for some time, in order to
sketch, to the best of my powers, the moving scene. It will
not, however, be possible.
Naples, Wednesday, March 7, 1787.
This week Tischbein has shown to me, and without reserve
commented upon, the greater part of the artistic treasures of
Naples. An excellent judge and drawer of animals, he had
long before called my attention to a horse's head in brass in
the Palace Columbrano. We went there to-day. This relic
of art is placed in the court, right opposite the gateway, in a
niche over a well, and really excites one's astonishment.
What must have been the effect of the whole head and body
together ? The perfect horse must have been far larger than
those at St. Mark's : moreover, the head alone, when closely
viewed, enables you distinctly to recognize and admire the
character and spirit of the animal. The splendid frontal
bones, the snorting nostrils, the pricked ears, the stiff mane,
— a strong, excited, and spirited creature !
We turned round to notice a female statue which stands in
a niche over the gateway. It has been already described by
Winckelmann as an imitation of a dancing-girl, with the
remark, that such artistes represent to us in living movement,
and under the greatest variety, that beauty of form which
the masters of statuary exhibit in the (as it were) petrified
nymphs and goddesses. It is very light and beautiful. The
head, which had been broken off, has been skilfully set on
again : otherwise it is nowise injured, and most assuredly
deserves a better place.
Naples, March 9, 1787.
To-day I received your dear letter of the 1 6th of February :
only, keep on writing. I have made arrangements for the
forwarding of my letters, and I shall continue to do so if I
move farther. Quite strange does it seem to me to read that
my friends do not often see each other ; and yet perhaps
nothing is more common than for men not to meet who are
living close together.
The weather here has become dull: a change is at hand.
Spring is commencing, and we shall soon have some rainy
days. The summit of Vesuvius has not been clear since I
paid it a visit. These few last nights flames have been seen
to issue from it : to-day it is keeping quiet, and therefore
more violent eruptions are expected.
244 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
The storms of these last few days have shown to us a
glorious sea : it is at such times that the waves may be
studied in their worthiest style and shape. Nature, indeed,
is the ouly book which presents important matter on all its
pages. On the other hand, the theatres have ceased to fur-
nish any amusement. During Lent nothing but operas,
which differ in no respect from more profane ones but by the
absence of ballets between the acts. In all other respects
they are as gay as possible. In the theatre of S. Carlo they
are representing the destruction of Jerusalem by Nebuchad-
nezzar. To me it is only a great raree-show : my taste is
quite spoilt for such things.
To-day we were with the Prince von Waldeck at Capo di
Monte, where there is a great collection of paintings, coins,
etc. It is not well arranged, but the things themselves are
above praise. We can now correct and confirm many
traditional ideas. Those coins, gems, and vases, which,
like the stunted citron-trees, come to us in the North one
by one, have quite a different look here, in the mass,
and, so to speak, in their own home and native soil. For
where works of art are rare, their very rarity gives them a
value : here we learn to treasure none but the intrinsically
valuable.
A very high price is at present given for Etruscan vases,
and certainly beautiful and excellent pieces are to be found
among them. Not a traveller but wishes to possess some
specimen or other of them. One does not seem to value
money here at the same rate as at home : I fear that I my-
self shall yet be tempted.
Naples, Friday, March 9, 1787.
This is the pleasant part of travelling, that even ordinary
matters, by their novelty and unexpectedness, often acquire
the appearance of an adventure. As I came back from Capo
di Monte, I paid an evening visit to Filangieri, and saw sit-
ting on the sofa, by the side of the mistress of the house, a
lady whose external appearance seemed to agree but little
with the familiarity and easy manner she indulged in. In
a light, striped, silk gown of very ordinary texture, and a
most singular cap by way of head-dress, but being of a
pietty figure, she looked like some poor dressmaker, who,
taken up with the care of adorning the persons of others, had
httle time to bestow on her own external appearance. Such
people are so accustomed to expect their labors to be remu-
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 245
nerated, that they seem to have no idea of working gratis for
themselves. She did not allow her gossip to be at all
checked by my arrival, but went on talking of a number of
ridiculous adventures which had happened to her that day,
or which had been occasioned by her own brusquerie and
impetuosity.
The lady of the house wished to help me to get in a word
or two, and spoke of the beautiful site of Capo di Monte,
and of the treasures there. Upon this the lively lady sprang
up with a good high jump from the sofa, and as she stood on
her feet seemed still prettier than before. She took leave,
and running to the door, said as she passed me, " The Filan-
gieri are coming one of these days to dine with me. I hope
to see you also." She was gone before I could say yes. I
now learned that she was the Princess , a near relative
to the master of the house. 1 The Filangieri were not rich,
and lived in a becoming but moderate style ; and such I
presumed was the case with my little princess, especially as
such titles are any thing but rare in Naples. I set down the
name, and the day and hour, and left them, without any
doubt but that I should be found at the right place in due
time.
Naples, Sunday, March 11, 1787.
As my stay in Naples cannot be long, I take my most re-
mote points first of all : the near throw themselves, as it
were, in one's way. I have been with Tischbein to Pompeii ;
and on our road all those glorious prospects which were al-
ready well known to us from many a landscape-drawing, lay
right and left, dazzling us by their number and unbroken suc-
cession.
Pompeii amazes one by its narrowness and littleness, —
confined streets, but perfectly straight, and furnished on both
sides with a foot pavement ; little houses without windows,
the rooms being lit only by the doors, which opened on the
atrium and the galleries. Even the public edifices, the tomb
at the gate, a temple, and also a villa in its neighborhood,
are like models and doll's houses, rather than real buildings.
The rooms — corridors, galleries, and all — are painted with
bright and cheerful colors, the wall-surfaces uniform ; in the
middle some elaborate painting (most of these have been
removed) ; on the borders and at the corners, light, tasteful
arabesques, terminating in the pretty figures of lymphs or
1 Filangieri's sister.
246 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
children ; while in others, from out of garlands of flowers,
beasts, wild and tame, are issuing. Thus does the city,
which first of all the hot shower of stones and ashes over-
whelmed, and afterwards the excavators plundered, still bear
witness, even in its present utterly desolate state, to a taste
for painting and the arts common to the whole people, of
which the most enthusiastic dilettante of the present day has
no idea ; nor has he any feeling nor desire for it.
When one considers the distance of this town from Vesu-
vius, it is clear that the volcanic matter which overwhelmed
it could not have been carried hither either by any sudden
impetus of the mountain or by the wind. We must rather
suppose that these stones and ashes had been floating for a
time in the air, like clouds, until at last they fell upon the
doomed city.
In order to form a clear and precise idea of this event, one
has only to think of a mountain village buried in snow. The
spaces between the houses, and indeed the crushed houses
themselves, were filled up ; however, it is not improbable
that some of the mason-work may at different points have
peeped above the surface, and in this way have excited the
notice of those by whom the hill was broken up for vineyards
and gardens. And, no doubt, many an owner, on digging
up his own portion, must have made valuable gleanings.
Several rooms were found quite empty ; and in the corner of
one a heap of ashes was observed, under which a quantity of
household articles and works of art was concealed.
The strange, and in some degree unpleasant, impression
which this mummied city leaves on the mind, we got rid of,
as, sitting in the arbor of a little inn close to the sea (where
we partook of a frugal meal) , we revelled in the blue sky,
the glaring ripple of the sea, and the bright sunshine ; and
cherished a hope that when the vine-leaf should again cover
the hill we might all be able to pay it a second visit, and
once more enjoy ourselves together on the same spot.
As we approached the city, we again came upon the little
cottages, which now appeared to us perfectly to resemble
those in Pompeii. We obtained permission to enter one,
and found it extremely clean, — neatly platted, rush-bottomed
chairs, a buffet, covered all over with gilding, or painted with
variegated flowers, and highly varnished. Thus, after so
many centuries, and such numberless changes, this country
instils into its inhabitants the same customs and habits of
life, the same inclinations and tastes,
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 247
Naples,
Monday, March 12, 1787.
To-day, according to my custom, I have gone slowly
through the city, noting for future description several points,
but about which, I am sorry to say, I cannot communicate
any thing to-day. All tends to this one conclusion : that a
highly favored land, which furnishes in abundance the chief
necessaries of existence, produces men also of a happy dis-
position, who, without trouble or anxiety, trust to to-morrow
to bring them what to-day has been wanting, and consequently
live on in a light-hearted, careless sort of life. Momentary
gratification, moderate enjoyments, a passing sorrow, and a
cheerful resignation.
The morning has been cold and damp, with a little rain.
In my walk I came upon a spot where the great slabs of the
pavement appeared swept quite clean. To my great surprise
I saw, on this smooth and even spot, a number of ragged
boys, squatting in a circle, and spreading out their hands
over the ground as if to warm them. At first I took it to
be some game that they were playing. When, however, I
noticed the perfect seriousness and composure of their coun-
tenances, with an expression on it of a gratified want, I
therefore put my brains to the utmost stretch, but they re-
fused to enlighten me as I desired. I was, therefore, obliged
to ask what it could be that had induced these little imps to
take up this strange position, and had collected them in so
regular a circle.
Upon this I was informed that a neighboring smith had
been heating the tire of a wheel, and that this is done in the
following manner. The iron tire is laid on the pavement,
and around it is as much of oak chips as is considered suffi-
cient to soften the iron to the required degree : the lighted
wood burns away, the tire is riveted to the wheel, and the
ashes carefully swept up. The little vagabonds take advan-
tage of the heat communicated to the pavement, and do not
leave the spot till they have drawn from it the last radiation
of warmth. Similar instances of contentedness, and sharp-
witted profiting by what otherwise would be wasted, occur
here in great number. I notice in this people the most
shrewd and active industry, not to get rich, but to live free
from care-
&48 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
EVENINO.
In order not to make a mistake yesterday as to the house
of my odd little princess, and to be there in time, I called a
hackney carriage. It stopped before the grand entrance of
a spacious palace. As I had no idea of coming to so splen-
did a dwelling, I repeated to him most distinctly the name :
he assured me it was quite right. I soon found myself in a
spacious court, still and lonesome, empty and clean, enclosed
by the principal edifice and side buildings. The architecture
was the well-known light Neapolitan style, as was also the
coloring. Right before me was a grand porch, and a broad
but not very high flight of steps. On both sides of it stood
a line of servants in splendid liveries, who, as I passed them,
bowed very low. I thought myself the Sultan in Wieland's
fairy tale, and, after his example, took courage. Next I was
received by the upper domestics, till at last the most courtly
of them opened a door, and introduced me into a spacious
apartment, which was as splendid, but also as empty of
people, as all before. In passing up and down, I observed in
a side-room a table laid out for about forty persons, with a
splendor corresponding with all around. A secular priest
now entered, and without asking who I was, or whence I
came, approached me as if I were already known to him,
and conversed on the most general topics.
A pair of folding doors were now thrown open, and imme-
diately closed again, when a gentleman rather advanced in
years had entered. The priest immediately proceeded
towards him, as I also did. We greeted him with a few
words of courtesy, which he returned in a barking, stuttering
tone, so that I could scarcely make out a syllable of his
Hottentot dialect. When he had taken his place by the
stove, the priest moved away, and I accompanied him. A
portly Benedictine entered, accompanied by a younger mem-
ber of his order. He went to salute the host, and, after
being also barked at, retired to a window. The regular
clergy, especially those whose dress is becoming, have great
advantage in society : their costume is a mark of humility
and renunciation of self, while, at the same time, it lends to
its wearers a decidedly dignified appearance. In their behav-
ior they may easily, without degrading themselves, appear
submissive and complying ; and then again, when they stand
upon their own dignity, their self-respect is well becoming
to them, although in others it would not be so readily
allowed to pass. This was the case with this person. When
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 249
I asked him about Monte Cassino, he immediately gave
me an invitation thither, and promised me the best of wel-
comes. In the mean time the room had become full of peo-
ple : officers, people of the court, more regulars, and even
some Capuchins, had arrived. Once more a set of folding-
doors opened and shut : an aged lady, somewhat older than
my host, had entered ; and now the presence of what I took
to be the lady of the house, made me feel perfectly confident
that I was in a strange mansion, and wholly unknown to its
inmates. Dinner was now served ; and I was keeping close
to the side of my friends, the monks, in order to slip with
them into the paradise of the dining-room, when all at once
I saw Filangieri, with his wife, enter and make his excuses
for being so late. Shortly after this my little princess came
into the room, and with nods, and winks, and bows, to all as
she passed, came straight to me. " It is very good of you
to keep your word," she exclaimed : " mind you sit by me,
— you shall have the best bits, — wait a minute though ; I
must find out which is my proper place, then mind and take
your place by me." Thus commanded, I followed the vari-
ous windings she made, and at last we reached our seats,
Benedictine sitting right opposite, and Filangieri on my
other side. "The dishes are all good," she observed, —
" all Lenten fare, but choice : I'll point out to you the best.
But now I must rally the priests, — the churls ! I can't bear
them : every day they are cutting a fresh slice off our estate.
What we have, we should like to spend on ourselves and our
friends." The soup was now handed round, — the Bene-
dictine was sipping his very deliberately. " Pray don't put
yourself out of your way, — the spoon is too small, I fear:
I will bid them bring you a larger one. Your reverences
are used to a good mouthful." The good father replied,
" In your house, lady, every thing is so excellent, and so
well arranged, that much more distinguished guests than
your humble servant would find every thing to their heart's
content."
Of the pasties the Benedictine took only one. She called
out to him, "Pray take half a dozen: pastry, your rev-
erence surely knows, is easy of digestion." With good
sense he took another pasty, thanking the princess for her
attention just as if he had not seen through her malicious
raillery. And so, also, some solid paste-work furnished her
with occasion for venting her spite ; for, as the monk helped
himself to a piece, a second rolled off the dish towards his
250 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
plate. U A third! your reverence: you seem anxious to
lay a foundation." — "When such excellent materials are
furnished to his hand, the architect's labors are easy," re-
joined his reverence. Thus she went on continually, only
pausing a while to keep her promise of pointing out to me
the best dishes.
All this while I was conversing with my neighbor on the
gravest topics. Absolutely, I never heard Filangieri utter
an unmeaning sentence. In this respect, and indeed in
many others, he resembles our worthy friend, George Schlos-
ser ; with this difference, that the former, as a Neapolitan
and a man of the world, had a softer nature and an easier
manner.
During the whole of this time my roguish neighbor allowed
the clerical gentry not a moment's truce. Above all, the
fish at this Lenten meal, dished up in imitation of flesh of all
kinds, furnished her with inexhaustible opportunities for all
manner of irreverent and ill-natured observations. Espe-
cially in justification and defence of a taste for flesh, she
observed that people would have the form, to give a relish,
even when the essence was prohibited.
Many more such jokes were noticed by me at the time,
but I am not in the humor to repeat them. Jokes of this
kind, when first spoken, and falling from beautiful lips, may
be tolerable, not to say amusing ; but, set down in black and
white, they lose all charm, — for me at least. Then again,
the boldly hazarded stroke of wit has this peculiarity, that,
at the moment, it pleases us while it astonishes us by its
boldness ; but when told afterwards, it sounds offensive, and
disgusts us.
The dessert was brought in, and I was afraid that the
cross-fire would still be kept up, when suddenly my fair
neighbor turned quite composedly to me and said, "The
priests may gulp their Syracusan wine in peace, for I can-
not succeed in worrying a single one to death, — no, not
even in spoiling their appetites. Now, let me have some
rational talk with you ; for what a heavy sort of thing must
a conversation with Filangieri be ! The good creature ! he
gives himself a great deal of trouble for nothing. I often
say to him, 4 If you make new laws, we must give ourselves
fresh pains to find out how we can forthwith transgress them,
just as we have already set at naught the old.' Only look
now, how beautiful Naples is ! , For these many years the
people have lived free from care and contented ; and if now
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 251
and then some poor wretch is hanged, all the rest still pur-
sue their own merry course." She then proposed that I
should pay a visit to Sorrento, where she had a large estate.
Her steward would feast me with the best of fish, and the
delicious mungana (flesh of a sucking calf). The moun-
tain air, and the unequalled prospect, would be sure to cure
me of all philosophy. Then she would come herself, and
not a trace should remain of all my wrinkles, — which at
any rate I had allowed to come on before their time, — and
together we would have a right merry time of it.
Naples, March 13, 1787.
To-day also I write you a few lines, in order that letter
may provoke letter. Things go well with me : however, I
see less than I ought. The place induces an indolent and
easy sort of life : nevertheless, my idea of it is gradually
becoming more and more complete.
On Sunday we were in Pompeii. Many a calamity has
happened in the world, but never one that has caused so
much entertainment to posterity as this one. I scarcely
know of any thing that is more interesting. The houses are
small and close together, but within they are all most exquis-
itely painted. The gate of the city is remarkable, with the
tombs close to it. The tomb of a priestess, a semicircular
bench, with a stone back, on which was the inscription cut
in large characters. Over the back you have a sight of
the sea and the setting sun, — a glorious spot, worthy of the
beautiful idea.
We found there good and merry company from Naples :
the men are perfectly natural, and light-hearted. We took
dinner at "Torre dell' Annunziata," with our table placed
close to the sea. The day was extremely fine. The view
towards Castellamare and Sorrento, near and incompara-
ble. My companions were quite rapturous in praise of their
native place : some asserted that without a sight of the sea
it was impossible to live. To me it is quite enough that I
have its image in my soul, and so, when the time comes,
may safely return to my mountain home.
Fortunately, there is here a very honest painter of land-
scapes, who imparts to his pieces the impression of the rich
and open country around. He has already executed some
sketches for me.
The Vesuvian productions I have now pretty well studied :
things, however, assume a different signification when one
252 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
sees them in connection. Property, I ought to devote the
rest of my life to observation : I should discover much that
would enlarge man's knowledge. Pray tell Herder that my
botanical, discoveries are continually advancing : it is still the
same principle, but it requires a whole life to work it out.
Perhaps I am already in a situation to draw the leading lines
of it.
I can now enjoy myself at the museum of Portici. Usually
people make it the first object : we mean to make it our
last. As yet I do not know whether I shall be able to extend
my tour : all things tend to drive me back to Rome at Easter.
I shall let things take their course.
Angelica has undertaken to paint a scene of my ' ' Iphi-
genia." The thought is a very happy subject for a picture,
and she will delineate it excellently. It is the moment when
Orestes finds himself again in the presence of his sister and
his friend. What the three characters are saying to each
other she has indicated by the grouping, and given their
words in the expressions of their countenances. From this
description you may judge how keenly sensitive she is, and
how quick she is to seize whatever is adapted to her nature.
And it is really the turning-point of the whole drama.
Farewell, and love me ! Here the people are all very
good, even though they do not know what to make of me.
Tischbein, on the other hand, pleases them far better. This
evening he hastily painted some heads of the size of life, at
and about which they disported themselves as strangely as
the New Zealanders at the sight of a ship of war. Of this
an amusing anecdote.
Tischbein has a great knack of etching with a pen the
shapes of gods and heroes, of the size of life, and even
more. He uses very few lines, but cleverly puts in the
shades with a broad pencil, so that the heads stand out
roundly and nobly. The by-standers looked on with amaze-
ment, and were highly delighted. At last an itching seized
their fingers to try and paint : they snatched the brushes,
and painted — one another's beards, daubing each other's
faces. Was not this an original trait of human nature? And
this was done in an elegant circle, in the house of one who
was himself a clever draughtsman and painter ! It is impos-
sible to form an idea of this race without having seen them.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 253
Caserta,
Wednesday, March 14, 1787.
I arri here on a visit to Hackert, in his highly agreeable
apartments which have been assigned him in the ancient
castle. The new palace, somewhat huge and Escurial-like,
of a quadrangular plan, with many courts, is royal enough.
The site is uncommonly fine, on one of the most fertile plains
in the world, and yet the gardens trench on the mountains.
From these an aqueduct brings down an entire river to sup-
ply water to the palace and the district; and the whole can,
on occasion, be thrown on some artificially arranged rocks, to
form a most glorious cascade. The gardens are beautifully
laid out, and suit well with a district which itself is thought
a garden.
The castle is truly kingly. It appears to me, however,
particularly gloomy ; and no one of us could bring himself
to think the vast and empty rooms comfortable. The king
probably is of the same opinion ; for he has caused a house
to be built on the mountains, which, smaller and more pro-
portioned to man's littleness, is intended for a hunting-box
and country-seat.
Caserta,
Thursday, March 15, 1787.
Hackert is lodged very comfortably in the old castle : it is
quite roomy enough for all his guests. Constantly busy with
drawing and painting, he, nevertheless, is very social, and
easily draws men around him, as in the end he generally
makes every one become his scholar. He has also quite won
me by putting up patiently with my weaknesses, and insists,
above all things, on distinctness of drawing, and marked and
clear keeping. When he paints, he has three colors always
ready ; and as he works on, and uses one after another, a pic-
ture is produced, one knows not how or whence. I wish the
execution were as easy as it looks. With his usual blunt
honesty he said to , "You have capacity, but you are
unable to accomplish any thing : stay with me a year and a
half, and you shall be able to produce such works as shall
be a delight to yourself and to others." Is not this a text on
which one might preach eternally to dilettanti? " We would
like to see what sort of a pupil we can make of you."
The special confidence with which the queen honors him
is evinced not merely by the fact that he gives lessons in
practice to the princesses, but still more so by his being fie
254 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
quently summoned of an evening to talk with, and instruct
them on art and kindred subjects. He makes Sulzer's book
the basis of such lectures, selecting the articles as entertain-
ment or conviction may be his subject.
I was obliged to approve of this, and, in consequence, to
laugh at myself. What a difference is there between him
who wishes to investigate principles, and one whose highest
object is to work on the world and to teach them for their
mere private amusement. Sulzer's theory was always odious
to me on account of the falseness of its fundamental maxim,
but now I saw that the book contained much more than the
multitude require. The varied information which is here
communicated, the mode of thinking with which alone so
active a mind as Sulzer's could be satisfied, must have been
quite sufficient for the ordinary run of people.
Many happy and profitable hours have I spent with the
picture-restorer Anders, who has been summoned hither from
Rome, and resides in the castle, and industriously pursues
his work, in which the king takes a great interest. Of his
skill in restoring old paintiugs, I dare not begin to speak ;
since it would be necessary to describe the whole process of
this yet difficult craft, and wherein consists the difficulty
of the problem, and the merit of success.
Caserta, March 16, 1787.
Your dear letter of the 19th February reached me to-day,
and I must forthwith despatch a word or two in reply. How
glad should I be to come to my senses again, by thinking of
my friends !
Naples is a paradise : in it every one lives in a sort of
intoxicated self-forgetfulness. It is even so with me : I
scarcely know myself ; I seem to myself quite an altered
man. Yesterday I said to myself, " Either you have always
been mad, or you are so now."
I have paid a visit to the ruins of ancient Capua, and all
that is connected with it.
In this country one first begins to have a true idea of what
vegetation is, and why man tills the fields. The flax here is
already near to blossoming, and the wheat a span and a half
high. Around Caserta the land is perfectly level, the fields
worked as clean and as fine as the beds of a garden. All of
them are planted with poplars, and from tree to tree the vine
spreads ; and yet, notwithstanding this shade, the soil below
produces the finest and most abundant crops possible. What
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 255
will they be when the spring shall come in power? Hitherto
we have had very cold winds, and there has been snow on
the mountains.
Within a fortnight I must decide whether to go to Sicily
or not. Never before have I been so tossed backward and
forward in coming to a resolution : every day something will
occur to recommend the trip ; the next morning some cir-
cumstance will be against it. Two spirits are contending
for me.
I say this in confidence, and for my female friends alone :
speak not a word of it to my male friends. I am well aware
that my " Iphigenia" has fared strangely. The public were
so accustomed to the old form, expressions which they had
adopted from frequent hearing and reading were familiar
to them ; and now quite a different tone is sounding in their
ears, and I clearly see that no one, in fact, thanks me for
the endless pains I have been at. Such a work is never
finished : it must, however, pass for such, as soon as the
author has done his utmost, considering time and circum-
stances.
All this, however, will not be able to deter me from trying
a similar operation with "Tasso." Perhaps it would be
better to throw it into the fire ; however, I shall adhere to
my resolution ; and since it must be what it is, I shall make a
wonderful work of it. On this account, I am pleased to find
that the printing of my works goes on so slowly ; and then,
again, it is well to be at a distance from the murmurs of the
compositor. Strange enough, that, even in one's most in-
pendent actions, one expects — nay, requires — a stimulus.
Caserta, March 16, 1787.
If in Rome one can readily set one's self to study, here
one can do nothing but live. You forget yourself and the
world ; and to me it is a strange feeling to go about with
people who think of nothing but enjoying themselves. Sir
William Hamilton, who still resides here as ambassador from
England, has at length, after his long love of art and long
study, discovered the most perfect of admirers of nature and
art in a beautiful young woman. She lives with him, — an
English woman about twenty years old. She is very hand-
some, and of a beautiful figure. The old knight has had
made for her a Greek costume, which becomes her extremely.
Dressed in this, and letting her hair loose, and taking a
couple of shawls, she exhibits every possible variety of pos-
256 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
ture, expression, and look, so that at the last the spectator
almost fancies it is a dream. One beholds here in perfection,
in movement, in ravishing variety, all that the greatest of
artists have rejoiced to be able to produce. Standing, kneel-
ing, sitting, lying down, grave or sad, playful, exulting,
repentant, wanton, menacing, anxious, — all mental states
follow rapidly^ one after another. With wonderful taste she
suits the folding of her veil to each expression, and with the
same handkerchief makes every kind of head-dress. The
old knight holds the light for her, and enters into the ex-
hibition with his whole soul. He thinks he can discern in
her a resemblance to all the most famous antiques, all the
beautiful profiles on the Sicilian coins, — ay, of the Apollo
Belvedere itself. This much at any rate is certain, — the
entertainment is unique. We spent two evenings on it with
thorough enjoyment. To-day Tischbein is engaged in paint-
ing her.
What I have seen and inferred of the personnel of the
Court requires to be further tested, before I set it down.
To-day the king is gone hunting the wolves : they hope to
kill at least five.
Naples, March 17, 1787.
When I would write words, images only start before my
eyes, — the beautiful land, the free sea, the hazy islands,
the roaring mountain ! Powers to delineate all this fail me.
Here in this country one at last understands how man
could ever take it into his head to till the ground, — here,
where it produces every thing, and where one may look for
as many as from three to five crops in the year.
I have seen much, and reflected still more. The world
opens itself to me more and more : all even that I have
long known is at last becoming my own. How quick to
know, but how slow to put in practice, is the human creature !
The only pity is, that I cannot at each moment communi-
cate to others my observations. But, both as man and artist,
one is here driven backward and forward by a hundred ideas
of his own, while his services are put in requisition by hun-
dreds of persons. His situation is peculiar and strange :
he cannot freely sympathize with another's being, because
he finds his own exertions so put to the stretch.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 257
And, after all, the world is nothing but a wheel. In its
whole periphery it is everywhere similar ; but, nevertheless,
it appears to us so strange, because we ourselves are carried
round with it.
What I always said has actually come to pass : in this land
alone do I begin to understand and to unravel many a phe-
nomenon of nature, and complication of opinion. I am
gathering from every quarter, and shall bring back with me
a great deal, — certainly much love of my own native land,
and joy to live with a few dear friends.
With regard to my Sicilian tour, the gods still hold the
scales in their hands : the index still wavers.
Who can the friend be who has been thus mysteriously
announced? Only, may I not neglect him in my pilgrimage
and tour in the island !
The frigate from Palermo has returned : in eight days she
sets sail again. Whether I shall sail with it, and be back
at Rome by Passion Week, I have not as yet determined.
Never in my life have I been so undecided : a trifle will turn
the scale.
With men I get on rather better : for I feel that one must
weigh them by avoirdupois weight, and not by the jewel-
ler's scales ; as, unfortunately, friends too often weigh one.
another in their hypochondriacal humors and in an over-
exacting spirit.
Here men know nothing of one another. They scarcely
observe that others are also going on their way, side by side
with them. They run all day backward and forward in a
paradise, without looking around them ; and, if the neigh-
boring jaws of hell begin to open and to rage, they have
recourse to St. Januarius.
To pass through such a countless multitude, with its rest-
less excitement, is strange, but salutary. Here they are all
crossing and recrossing one another, and yet every one finds
his way and his object. In so great a crowd and bustle I
feel more calm and solitary than on other occasions: the
more bustling the streets become, the more quietly I move.
258 LETTERS FROM ITALY,
Often do I think of Rousseau and his hypochondriacal
discontent ; and I can thoroughly understand how so fine an
organization may have been deranged. Did I not myself
feel such sympathy with natural objects ; and did I not see,
that, in the apparent perplexity, a hundred seemingly con-
trary observations admit of being reconciled, and arranged
side by side, just as the geometer by a cross line tests many
measurements, I should often think myself mad.
Naples, March 18, 1787.
We must not any longer put off our visit to Herculaneum,
and the Museum of Portici, where the curiosities which have
been dug out of it are collected and preserved. That ancient
city, lying at the foot of Vesuvius, was entirely covered with
lava, which subsequent eruptions successively raised so high
that the buildings are at present sixty feet below the surface.
The city was discovered by some men coming upon a marble
pavement, as they were digging a well. It is a great pity
that the excavation was not executed systematically by Ger-
man miners ; for it is admitted that the work, which was
carried on at random, and with the hope of plunder, has
spoilt many a noble monument of ancient art. After de-
scending sixty steps into a pit, by torch-light, you gaze in
admiration at the theatre which once stood beneath the open
sky, and listen to the guide recounting all that was found
there, and carried off.
We entered the museum well recommended, and were well
received : nevertheless, we were not allowed to take any
drawings. Perhaps on this account we paid the more atten-
tion to what we saw, and the more vividly transported our-
selves into those long-passed times, when all these things
surrounded their living owners, and ministered to the use
and enjoyment of life. The little houses and rooms of
Pompeii now appeared to me at once more spacious and
more confined, — more confined, because I fancied them to
myself crammed full of so many precious objects ; more
spacious, because these very objects could not have been
furnished merely as necessaries, but, being decorated with
the most graceful and ingenious devices of the imitative
arts, must, while they delighted the taste, also have enlarged
the mind far beyond what the amplest house-room could ever
have done.
One sees here, for instance, a nobly-shaped pail, mounted
at the top with a highly-ornamented edge. When you exam-
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 259
ine it more closely, you find that this rim rises on two sides,
and so furnishes convenient handles by which the vessel
may be lifted. The lamps, according to the number of their
wicks, are ornamented with masks and mountings, so that
each burner illuminates a genuine figure of art. We also
saw some high and gracefully slender stands of iron for
holding lamps, the pendent burners being suspended with
figures of all kinds, which display a wonderful fertility of
invention ; and as, in order to please and delight the eye,
they sway and oscillate, the effect surpasses all description.
In the hope of being able to pay a second visit, we fol-
lowed the usher from room to room, and snatched all the
delight and instruction that was possible from a cursory
view
Naples,
Monday, March 10, 1787.
Within these last few days I have, formed a new connec-
tion. Tischbein has for three or four weeks faithfully lent
me all the assistance in his power, and diligently explained
to me the works both of nature and art. Yesterday, how-
ever, after being at the Museum of Portici, we had some
conversation together, and came to the conclusion, that,
considering his own artistic objects, he could not perform,
with credit to himself, the works which, in the hope of some
future appointment in Naples, he has undertaken for the
Court and for several persons in the city ; nor do justice to
my views, wishes, and fancies. With sincere good wishes
for my success, he has therefore recommended to me for my
constant companion a young man, whom, since I arrived
here, I have often seen, not without feeling some interest
and liking for him. His name is Kniep, who, after a long
stay at Rome, has come to Naples as the true field and
element of the landscape-painter. Even in Rome I had
heard him highly spoken of as a clever draughtsman, only
his industry was not much commended. I have tolerably
studied his character, and think the ground of this censure
arises rather from a want of a decision, which certainly may
be overcome if we are long together. A favorable begin-
ning confirms me in this hope ; and, if he continues to go on
thus, we shall continue good companions for some time.
Naples, March 19, 1787.
One needs only walk along the streets, and keep his eyes
well open, and he is sure to see the most unequalled scenes.
Goehte— I Vol 4
260 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
At the Mole, one of the noisiest quarters of the city, I saw
yesterday a Pulcinello, who, on a temporary stage of planks,
was quarrelling with an ape ; while from a balcony above, a
right pretty maiden was exposing her charms to every eye.
Not far from the ape and his stage, a quack doctor was
recommending to the credulous crowd his nostrums for every
evil. Such a scene painted by a Gerard Dow would not fail
to charm contemporaries and posterity.
To-day, moreover, was the festival of St. Joseph. He is
the patron of all Fritaruoli, — that is, pastry-cooks, — and
understands baking in a very extensive sense. Because
beneath the black and seething oil hot flames will of course
rage, therefore every kind of torture by fire falls within
his province. Accordingly, yesterday evening being the eve
of the saint's day, the fronts of the houses were adorned
with pictures, to the best of the inmates' skill, representing
souls in Purgatory, or the Last Judgment, with plenty of
fire and flame. Before the doors, frying-pans were hissing
on hastily constructed hearths. One partner was working
the dough ; another shaped it into twists, and threw it into
the boiling lard ; a third stood by the frying-pan, holding a
short skewer, with which he drew out the twists as soon as
they were done, and shoved them off on another skewer to a
fourth party, who offered them to the by-standers. The two
last were generally young apprentices, and wore white curly
wigs ; this head-dress being the Neapolitan symbol of an
angel. Other figures besides completed the group ; and
these were busy in presenting wine to the busy cooks, or in
drinking themselves, shouting, and puffing the article all the
while. The angels, too, and cooks, were all clamoring. The
people crowded to buy ; for all pastry is sold cheap on this
evening, and a part of the profits given to the poor.
Scenes of this kind may be witnessed without end. Thus
fares it every day, — always something new, some fresh
absurdity. The variety of costume, too, that meets you in
the streets ; the multitude, too, of passages in the Toledo
Street alone !
Thus there is plenty of most original entertainment, if
only one will live with the people : it is so natural, that one
almost becomes natural one's self. For this is the original
birthplace of Pulcinello, the true national mask, — the Har-
lequin of Pergamo, and the Hanswurst of the Tyrol. This
Pulcinello, now, is a thoroughly easy, sedate, somewhat indif-
ferent, perhaps lazy, and yet humorous fellow. And so one
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 261
meets everywhere with a " Kellner " and a " Hausknecht."
With ours I had special fun yesterday, and yet there was
nothing more than my sending him to fetch some paper and
pens. A half misunderstanding, a little loitering, good
humor and roguery, produced a most amusing scene, which
might be very successfully brought out on any stage.
Tuesday, March 20, 1787.
The news that an eruption of lava had just commenced,
which, taking the direction of Ottajano, was invisible at
Naples, tempted me to visit Vesuvius for the third time.
Scarcely had I jumped out of my cabriolet (zweiradrigen
einpferdigen Fuhrwerk) , at the foot of the mountain, when
immediately appeared the two guides who had accompanied
us on our previous ascent. I had no wish to do without
either, but took one out of gratitude and custom, the other
for reliance on his judgment, and the two for the greater
convenience. Having ascended the summit, the older guide
remained with our cloaks and refreshment, while the younger
followed me ; and we boldly went straight towards a dense
volume of smoke, which broke forth from the bottom of the
funnel : then we quickly went downwards by the side of it,
till at last, under the clear heaven, we distinctly saw the
lava emitted from the rolling clouds of smoke.
We may hear an object spoken of a thousand times, but
its peculiar features will never be caught till we see it with
our own eyes. The stream of lava was narrow, not broader
perhaps than ten feet, but the way in which it flowed down
a gentle and tolerably smooth plain was remarkable. As it
flowed along, it cooled both on the sides and on the surface,
so that it formed a sort of canal, the bed of which was con-
tinually raised in consequence of the molten mass congealing
even beneath the fiery stream, which, with uniform action,
precipitated right and left the scoria which were floating on
its surface. In this way a regular dam was at length thrown
up, which the glowing stream flowed on as quietly as any
mill-stream. We passed along the tolerably high dam,
while the scoria rolled regularly off the sides at our feet.
Some cracks in the canal afforded opportunity of looking
at the living stream from below ; and, as it rushed onward,
we observed it from above.
A very bright sun made the glowing lava look dull, but a
moderate steam rose from it into the pure air. I felt a great
262 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
desire to go nearer to the point where it broke out from the
mountain : there, my guide averred, it at once formed vaults
and roofs above itself, on which he had often stood. To
see and experience this phenomenon, we again ascended the
hill, in order to come from behind to this point. Fortu-
nately at this moment the place was cleared by a pretty
strong wind, but not entirely, for all round it the smoke
eddied from a thousand crannies ; and now we actually
stood on the top of the solid roof, which looked like a hard-
ened mass of twisted dough, but projected so far outward,
that it was impossible to see the welling lava.
We ventured about twenty steps farther ; but the ground
on which we stepped became hotter and hotter, while around
us rolled an oppressive steam, which obscured and hid the
sun. The guide, who was a few steps in advance of me,
presently turned back, and, siezing hold of me, hurried out
of this Stygian exhalation.
After we had refreshed our eyes with the clear prospect,
and washed our gums and throat with wine, we went round
again to notice any other peculiarities which might charac-
terize this peak of hell, thus rearing itself in the midst of a
paradise. I again observed attentively some chasms, in
appearance like so many Vulcanic forges, which emitted no
smoke, but continually shot out a steam of hot, glowing
air. They were all tapestried, as it were, with a kind of
stalactite, which covered the funnel to the top with its
knobs and chintz-like variation of colors. In consequence
of the irregularity of the forges, I found many specimens
of this sublimation hanging within reach, so that, with our
staves and a little contrivance, we were able to hack off a
few and secure them. I had seen in the shop of the lava-
dealer similar specimens, labelled simply " Lava ; " and was
delighted to have discovered that it was volcanic soot precip-
itated from the hot vapor, and distinctly exhibiting the subli-
mated mineral particles it contained.
The most glorious sunset, a heavenly evening, refreshed
me on my return : still, I felt how all great contrasts con-
found the mind and senses. From the terrible to the beau-
tiful — from the beautiful to the terrible : each destroys the
other, and produces a feeling of indifference. Assuredly,
the Neapolitan would be quite a different creature, did he
not feel himself thus hemmed in between Elysium and Tar-
tarus.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 263
Naples, March 22, 1787.
Were I not impelled by the German spirit and desire to
learn and do rather than to enjoy, I should tarry a little
longer in this school of a light-hearted and merry life, and
try to profit by it still more. Here it is enough for content-
ment, if a man has never so small an income. The situation
of the city, the mildness of the climate, can never be suffi-
ciently extolled ; but it is almost exclusively to these that the
stranger is referred.
No doubt one who has abundance of time, tact, and means,
might remain here for a long time with profit to himself.
Thus Sir William Hamilton has contrived highly to enjoy a
long residence in this city, and now, in the evening of his life,
is reaping the fruits of it. The rooms, which he has had fur-
nished in the English style, are most delightful, and the view
from the corner room perhaps unique. Below you is the sea,
with a view of Capri ; Posilippo on the right, with the prom-
enade of Villa Real between you and the grotto ; on the left an
ancient building belonging to the Jesuits ; and beyond it the
coast stretching from Sorrento to Cape Minerva. Another
prospect equal to this is scarcely to be found in Europe, — at
least, not in the centre of a great and populous city.
Hamilton is a person of universal taste, and, after having
wandered through the whole realm of creation, has found
rest at last in a most beautiful wife, a masterpiece of the
great artist, — Nature.
And now after all this, and a hundred-fold more of enjoy-
ment, the Sirens from over the sea are beckoning me ; and if
the wind is favorable, I shall start at the same time with
this letter, — it for the north, I for the south. The human
mind will not be confined to any limits : I especially require
breadth and extent in an eminent degree ; however, I must
content myself on this occasion with a rapid survey, and
must not think of a long, fixed look. If by hearing and
thinking, I can only attain to as much of any object as a
finger's tip, I shall be able to make out the whole hand.
Singularly enough, within these few days a friend has
spoken to me of " Wilhelm Meister," and urged me to con-
tinue it. In this climate I don't think it possible : however,
something of the air of this heaven may, perhaps, be im-
parted to the closing books. May my existence only unfold
itself sufficiently to lengthen the stem, and to produce richer
and finer flowers! Certainly it were better for me never to
have to come here at all, than to go away unregenerated.
264 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
Yesterday we saw a picture of Correggio's, which is for
sale. It is not, indeed, in very good preservation : however,
it still retains the happiest stamp of all the peculiar charms
of this painter. It represents a Madonna, with the infant
hesitating between the breast and some pears which an angel
is offering it : the subject, therefore, is the weaning of
Christ. To me the idea appears extremely tender ; the
composition easy and natural, and happily and charmingly
executed. It immediately reminded me of the Vow of St.
Catherine ; and, in my opinion, the painting is unquestion-
ably from the hand of Correggio.
Friday, March 23, 1787.
The terms of my engagement with Kniep are now settled,
and it has commenced in a right practical way. We went
together to Psestum, where, and also on our journey thither
and back, he showed the greatest industry with his pencil.
He has made some of the most glorious outlines. He seems
to relish this moving but busy sort of life, which has called
forth a talent he was scarcely conscious of. This comes of
being resolute, but it is exactly here that his accurate and
nice skill shows itself . He never stops to surround the
paper on which he is about to draw, with the usual rectangu-
lar lines : however, he seems to take as much pleasure in
cutting points to his pencil, which is of the best English
lead, as in drawing itself. Thus his outlines are just what
one would wish them to be.
Now we have come to the following arrangement : From
this day forward, we are to live and travel together ; while
he is to have nothing to trouble himself about but draw-
ing, as he has done for the last few days.
All the sketches are to be mine : but in order to a further
profit, after our return from our connection, he is to finish
for a certain sum, a number of them, which I am to select ;
and then, remuneration for the others is to be settled ac-
cording to his skill, the importance of the views taken, and
other considerations. This arrangement has made me quite
happy ; and now at last I can give you an account of our
journey.
Sitting in a light two- wheeled carriage, and driving in
turn, with a rough, good-natured boy behind, we rolled
through the glorious country, which Kniep greeted with a
true artistic eye. We now reached the mountain stream,
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 265
which, running along a smooth, artificial channel, skirts
most delightful rocks and woods. At last, in the district of
Alia Cava, Kniep could not contain himself, but set to work
to fix on paper a splendid mountain, which right before us
stood out boldly against the blue sky ; and with a clever and
characteristic touch drew the outlines of the summit, with
the sides also, down to its very base. We both made merry
with it, as the earnest of our contract.
A similar sketch was taken in the evening, from the win-
dow, of a singularly lovely and rich country; which passes
all my powers of description. Who would not have been
disposed to study at such a spot, in those bright times, when
a high school of art was flourishing? Very early in the
morning we set off by an untrodden path, coming occasion-
ally on marshy spots, towards two beautifully shaped hills.
We crossed brooks and pools, where the wild bulls, like hip-
popotamuses, were wallowing, and looking upon us with their
wild, red eyes.
The country grew flatter, and more desolate : the scarcity
of the buildings bespoke a sparing cultivation. At last,
when we were doubting whether we were passing through
rocks or ruins, some great oblong masses enabled us to dis-
tinguish the remains of temples, and other monuments of a
once splendid city. Kniep, who had already sketched on
the way the two picturesque limestone hills, suddenly stopped
to find a spot from which to seize and exhibit the peculiarity
of this most unpicturesque country.
A countryman, whom I took for my guide, led me, mean-
while, through the buildings. The first sight of them excited
nothing but astonishment. I found myself in a perfectly
strange world ; for, as centuries pass from the severe to the
pleasing, they form man's taste at the same time, — indeed,
create him after the same law. But now our eyes, and
through them our whole inner being, have been used to, and
decidedly prepossessed in favor of, a lighter style of archi-
tecture ; so that these crowded masses of stumpy conical
pillars appear heavy, not to say frightful. But I soon recol-
lected myself, called to mind the history of art, thought of
the times when the spirit of the age was in unison with this
style of architecture, and realized the severe style of sculp-
ture ; and in less than an hour found myself reconciled to
it, — nay, I went so far as to thank my genius for permitting
me to see, with my own eyes, such well-preserved remains,
since drawings give us no true idea of them ; for in archi-
266 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
tectural sketches they seem more elegant, and in perspec-
tive views even more stump}', than they actually are. It is
only by going round them, and passing through them, that
you can impart to them their real character : you evoke for
them, not to say infuse into them, the very feeling which the
architect had in contemplation. And thus I spent the whole
day, Kniep the while working away most diligently in taking
very accurate sketches. How delighted was I to be exempt
from that care, and yet to acquire such unfailing tokens for
the aid of memory ! Unfortunately, there was no accom-
modation for spending the night here. We returned to
Sorrento, and started early next morning for Naples. Vesu-
vious, seen from the back, is a rich country : poplars, with
their colossal pyramids, on the road-side, in the fore-ground.
These, too, formed an agreeable feature, which we halted a
moment to take.
We now reached an eminence. The most extensive area
in the world opened before us. Naples, in all its splendor :
its mile-long line of houses on the flat shore of the bay ;
the promontories, tongues of land and walls of rock ; then
the islands; and, behind all, the sea; — the whole was a
ravishing sight !
A most hideous singing, or rather exulting cry and howl
of joy, from the boy behind, frightened and disturbed us.
Somewhat angrily I called out to him : he had never had any
harsh words from us, — he had been a very good boy.
For a while he did not move ; then he patted me lightly on
the shoulder, and pushing between us both his right arm,
with the fore-finger stretched out, exclaimed, " Signor, per-
donate! questa e la mia patria!" — which, being inter-
preted, runs, " Forgive me, sir, for that is my native land ! "
And so I was ravished a second time. Something like a tear
stood in the eyes of the phlegmatic child of the North.
Naples, March 25, 1787.
Although I saw that Kniep was delighted to go with me
to the Festival of the Annunciation, still I could not fail to
observe that there was something he was sorry to part from.
His candor could not let him conceal from me long the fact,
that he had formed here a close and faithful attachment. It
was a pretty tale to listen to, — the story of their first meeting,
and the description of the fair one's behavior up to this time,
told in her favor. Kniep, moreover, insisted on my going
and seeing for myself how pretty she really was. Accord
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 267
ingly, an opportunity was contrived, and so as to afford me
the enjoyment of one the most agreeable views over Naples.
He took me to the flat roof of a house which commanded a
survey of the lower town, near the Mole, the bay, and the
shore of Sorrento. All that lay beyond on the left became
fore-shortened in the strangest way possible ; and which,
except from this particular spot, was never witnessed. Na-
ples is everywhere beautiful and glorious.
While we were admiring the country, suddenly (although
expected) a very beautiful face presented itself above the
roof, — for the entrance to these flat roofs is generally an
oblong opening in the roof, which can be covered, when not
used, by a trap-door. While, then, the little angel appeared
in full figure above the opening, it occurred to me that
ancient painters usually represent the Annunciation by mak-
ing the angel ascend by a similar trap-door. But the angel
on this occasion was really of a very fine form, of a very
pretty face, and a good natural carriage. It was a real joy
to me to see my new friend so happy beneath this magnifi-
cent sky, and in presence of the finest prospect in the world.
After her departure, he confessed to me that he had hitherto
voluntarily endured poverty, as by that means he had en-
joyed her love and, at the same time, had learned to appre-
ciate her contented disposition ; and now his better prospects
and improved condition were chiefly prized, because they
procured him the means for making her days more comfort-
able.
After this pleasant little incident I walked on the shore,
calm and happy. There a good insight into botanical mat-
ters opened on me. Tell Herder that I am very near finding
the primal vegetable type ; only I fear that no one will be
able to trace in it the rest of the vegetable kingdom. My
famous theory of the cotyledons is so refined, that perhaps it
is impossible to go farther with it.
Naples, March 26, 1787.
To-morrow this letter will leave this for you. On Thurs-
day, the 29th, I go to Palermo in the corvette, which for-
merly in my ignorance of sea matters, I promoted to the rank
of a frigate. The doubt whether I should go or remain made
me unsettled even in the use of my stay here : now I have
made up my mind, things go on better. For my mental state
this journey is salutary, — indeed, necessary. I see Sicily
268 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
pointing to Africa, and to Asia, and to the wonderful,
whither so many rays of the world's history are directed :
even to stand still is no trifle !
I have treated Naples quite in its own style : I have been
any thing but industrious. And yet I have seen a great deal,
and formed a pretty general idea of the land, its inhabitants,
and condition. On my return, there is much that I shall have
to go over again, — indeed, only " go over," for by the 29th
of June I must be in Rome again. As I have missed the
Holy Week, I must not fail to be present at the festivities of
St. Peter's Day. My Sicilian expedition must not altogether
draw me off from my original plan.
The day before yesterday we had a violent storm, with
thunder, lightning, and rain. Now it is clear again : a glo-
rious Tramontane is blowing ; if it lasts we shall have a rapid
passage.
Yesterday I went with my fellow-traveller to see the vessel,
and to take our cabin. A sea-voyage is utterly out of the
pale of my ideas : this short trip, which will probably be a
mere sail along the coast, will help my imagination, and en-
large my world. The cap'tain is a young, lively fellow ; the
ship, trim and clean, built in America, and a good sailer.
Here every spot begins to look green : Sicily, they tell me,
I shall find still more so. By the time you get this letter I
shall be on my return, leaving Trinacria behind me. Such is
man ; he is always either anticipating or recalling : I have
not yet been there ; and yet I now am, in thought, back
again with you ! However, for the confusion of this letter I
am not to blame. Every moment I am interrupted ; and yet
I would, if possible, fill this sheet to the very corner.
Just now I have had a visit from a Marchese Berio, a young
man who appears to be well informed. He was anxious to
make the acquaintance of the author of " Werther." Gen-
erally, indeed, the people here evince a great desire for, and
delight in, learning and accomplishments ; only they are too
happy to go the right way to acquire them. Had I more
time, I would willingly devote it to observing the Neapoli-
tans. These four weeks — what are they compared with the
endless variety of life ?
Now, farewell. On these travels I have learnt one thing
at least, — how to travel well : whether I am learning to live
I know not. The men who pretend to understand that art,
are, in nature and manner, too widely different from me for
setting up any claim to such a talent.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 269
Farewell, and love me as sincerely as I from my heart re-
member you.
Naples, March 28, 1787.
These few days have been entirely passed in packing and
leave-taking ; with making all necessary arrangements, and
paying bills ; looking for missing articles ; and with prepara-
tions of all kinds. I set the time down as lost.
The Prince of Walbeck has, just at my departure, unset-
tled me again. For he has been talking of nothing less than
that I should arrange, on my return, to go with him to
Greece and Dalmatia. When one enters once into the world
and takes up with it, let him beware lest he be driven aside,
not to say driven mad by it. I am utterly incapable of add-
ing another syllable.
Naples, March 29, 1787.
For some days the weather has been very unsettled. To-
day (the appointed time for our sailing) it is again as fine
as possible ; a favorable north wind ; a bright sunny sk} T ,
beneath which one wishes one's self in the wide world.
Now I bid an affectionate farewell to all my friends in Wei
mar and Gotha. Your love accompanies me, for wherever
I am I feel my need of you. Last night I dreamt I was
again among old familiar faces. It seems as if I could not
unload my boat of pheasants' feathers anywhere but among
you. May it be well loaded !
SICILY.
A.T Sfa
Thursday, March 29, 1787
A fresh and favorable breeze from the north-east is not
blowing this time, as it did at the last sailing of the packet.
But, unfortunately, a direct head-wind comes from the oppo-
site quarter, the south-west, — and so we are experiencing to
our cost how much the navigator depends upon the caprice of
the wind and weather. Out of all patience, we whiled away
the morning either on the shore or in the coffee-house : at
last, at noon we went on board ; and, the weather being ex-
tremely fine, we enjoyed the most glorious view. The cor-
vette lay at anchor near to the Mole. With an unclouded
270 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
sun, the atmosphere was hazy ; giving to the rocky walls of
Sorrento, which were in the shade, a tint of most beautiful
blue. Naples, with its living multitudes, lay in the full sun-
shine, and glittered brilliantly with countless tints. It was
not until sunset that the vessel began slowly to move from
her moorings : then the wind, which was contrary, drove us
over to Posilippo and its promontory. All night long the
ship went quietly on its way. She is a swift sailer, was built
in America, and is well fitted with cabins and berths. The
passengers cheerful but not boisterous, — opera singers and
dancers, consigned to Palermo.
Friday, March 30, 1787.
By daybreak we found ourselves between Ischia and Capri,
— perhaps not more than a mile from the latter. The sun
rose from behind the mountains of Capri and Cape Minerva.
Kniep diligently sketched the outlines of the coasts and the
islands, and took several beautiful views. The slowness of
the passage was favorable to his labors. We were making
our way but slowly under a light side-wind. We lost sight
of Vesuvius about four, just as we came in view of Cape
Minerva and Ischia. These, too, disappeared about even-
ing. The sun set in the sea, attended with clouds and a
long streak of light reaching for miles, all of a brilliant pur-
ple. This phenomenon was also sketched by Kniep. At
last we lost sight altogether of the land ; and the watery
horizon surrounded us, the night being clear, with lovely
moonlight.
These beautiful sights, however, I could only enjoy for a
few moments, for I was soon attacked with sea-sickness.
I betook myself to my cabin, chose a horizontal position,
and abstaining from all meat or drink, except white bread
and red wine, soon found myself pretty comfortable again.
Shut out from the external world, I let the internal have full
sway ; and, as a tedious voyage was to be anticipated, I im-
mediately set myself a heavy task in order to while away the
time profitably. Of all my papers, I had only brought with
me the first two acts of "Tasso," written in poetic prose.
These two acts, as regards their plan and evolution, were
nearly similar to the present ones, but, written full ten years
ago, had a somewhat soft and misty tone, which soon disap-
peared while, in accordance with my later notions, I made
form more predominant, and introduced more of rhythm.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 271
Saturday, March 31, 1787.
The sun rose this morning from the water quite clear.
About seven we overtook a French vessel, which had left
Naples two days before us, so much the better sailor was
our vessel : still we had no prospect as yet of the end of our
passage. We were somewhat cheered by the sight of Ustica,
but, unfortunately, on our left, when we ought to have had
it, like Capri, on our right. Towards noon the wind became
directly contrary, and we did not make the least way. The
sea began to get rough, and every one in the ship was sick.
I kept in my usual position ; and the whole play was
thought over and over, and through and through again. The
hours passed away ; and I should not have noticed how they
went, but for the roguish Kniep, on whose appetite the waves
had no influence. When, from time to time, he brought me
some wine and some bread, he took a mischievous delight in
expatiating on the excellent dinner in the cabin, the cheer-
fulness and good nature of our young but clever captain,
and on his regrets that I was unable to enjoy m} T share of it.
So, likewise, the transition from joke and merriment to
qualmishness and sickness, and the various ways in which
the latter manifested themselves in the different passengers,
afforded him rich materials for humorous description.
At four in the afternoon the captain altered the course of
our vessel. The mainsails were again set ; and we steered
direct for Ustica, behind which, to our great joy, we dis-
cerned the mountains of Sicily. The wind improved ; and we
bore rapidly towards Sicily, and a few little islands appeared
in view. The sunset was murky, the light of heaven being
veiled beneath a mist. The wind was pretty fair for the
whole of the evening : towards midnight the sea became very
rough.
Sunday, April 1, 1787.
About three in the morning a violent storm. Half asleep
and dreaming, I went on with the plan of my drama. In
the mean time there was great commotion on deck : the sails
were all taken in, and the vessel pitched on the top of the
waves. As day broke, the storm abated, and the sky cleared.
Now Ustica lay right on our left. They pointed out to me
a large turtle swimming a great distance off : by my tele-
scope I could easily discern it as a living point. Towards
noon we were clearly able to distinguish the coast of Sicily,
with its headlands and bays ; but we had got very far to the
272 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
leeward, and tacked on and off. Towards mid-day we came
nearer to the shore. The weather being clear, and the sun
shining bright, we saw quite distinctly the western coast, from
the promontory of Lilybaeum to Cape Gallo.
A shoal of dolphins attended our ship on both bows, and
continually shot ahead. It was amusing to watch them as
they swam along, covered by the clear, transparent waves at
one time, and at another springing above the water, showing
their fins and spine-ridged back, with their sides playing in
the light, from gold to green, and from green to gold.
As the land was direct on our lee, the captain lay to in a
bay behind Cape Gallo. Kniep failed not to seize the oppor-
tunity to sketch the many beautiful scenes somewhat in detail.
Towards sunset the captain made again for the open sea,
steering north-east, in order to make the heights of Palermo.
I ventured several times on deck, but never intermitted for a
moment my poetical labors ; and thus I became pretty well
master of the whole play. With a cloudy sky, a bright but
broken moonlight, the reflection on the sea was infinitely
beautiful. Painters, in order to heighten the effect, generally
lead us to believe that the reflection of the heavenly lumi-
naries on the water has its greatest breadth nearest to the
spectator, where it also possesses its greatest brilliancy. On
this occasion, however, the reflection was broadest at the
horizon, and, like a sharp pyramid, ended with sparkling
waves close to the ship. During the night our captain again
frequently changed the tack.
Monday, April 2, 1787.
This morning, about eight o'clock, we found ourselves
over against Palermo- The morning seemed to me highly
delightful. During the days that I had been shut up in
my cabin, I had got on pretty well with the plan of my
drama. I felt quite well now, and was able to stay on deck,
and observe attentively the Sicilian coast. Kniep went on
sketching away ; and by his accurate, but rapid pencil, many
a sheet of paper was converted into highly valuable memen-
tos of our landing, for which, however, we had still to
wait.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 273
PALERMO.
Monday, April 2, 1787.
By three o'clock p.m., we at last, after much trouble and
difficulty, got into harbor, where a most glorious view lay
before us. Perfectly recovered from my sea-sickness, I en-
joyed it highly. The town, facing north, lay at the foot of
a high hill, with the sun (at this time of day) shining above
it. The sides of the buildings which looked towards us lay
in a deep shade, which, however, was clear, and lit up by the
reflection from the water. On our right Monte Pellegrino,
with its many elegant outlines, in full light ; on the left the
coast, with its bays, isthmuses, and headlands, stretching
far away into the distance ; and the most agreeable effect
was produced by the fresh green of some fine trees, whose
crowns, lit up from behind, swayed from side to side before
the dark buildings, like great masses of glow-wqrms. A
brilliant haze gave a blueish tint to all the shades.
Instead of hurrying impatiently on shore, we remained on
deck till we were actually forced to land ; for where could
we hope soon to find a position equal to this, or so favora-
ble a point of view ?
Through the singular gateway, — which consists of two
vast pillars, which are left unconnected above, in order that
the towering car of St. Rosalie may be able to pass through,
on her famous festival, — we were driven into the city, and
alighted almost immediately at a large hotel on our left.
The host, an old, decent person, long accustomed to see
strangers of every nation and tongue, conducted us into a
large room, the balcony of which commanded a view of the
sea, with the roadstead, where we recognized our ship,
Monte Rosalie, and the beach, and were enabled to form
an idea of our whereabouts. Highly satisfied with the posi-
tion of our room, we did not for some time observe, that at
the farther end of it was an alcove, slightly raised, and con-
cealed by curtains, in which was a most spacious bed, with
a magnificent canopy and curtains of silk, in perfect keeping
with the other stately, but old-fashioned furniture of our
apartment. This display of splendor made me uneasy ; so,
as my custom was, I wished to make an agreement with my
host. To this the old man replied, that conditions were un-
necessary, and he trusted I should have nothing to complain
of in him. We were also at liberty to make use of the ante-
274 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
room, which was next to our apartment, and cool, airy, and
agreeable from its many balconies.
We amused ourselves with the endless variety of views,
and endeavored to sketch them, one by one, in pencil or in
colors ; for here the eye fell upon a plentiful harvest for the
artist.
In the evening the lovely moonlight attracted us once
more to the roadstead, and even after our return riveted us
for some time on the balcony. The light was peculiar, the
repose and loveliness of the scene were extreme.
Palermo,
Tuesday, April 3, 1787.
Our first business was to examine the city, which is easy
enough to survey, but difficult to know ; easy, because a
street a mile long from the lower to the upper gate, from
the sea to the mountain, intersects it, and is itself again
crossed, nearly in its middle, by another. Whatever lies on
these two great lines is easily found ; but in the inner streets
a stranger soon loses himself, and, without a guide, will never
extricate himself from their labyrinths.
Towards evening our attention was directed to the long
line of carriages (of the well-known build) in which the
principal persons of the neighborhood were taking their
evening drive from the city to the beach, for the sake of the
fresh air, amusement, and perhaps also for intrigue.
It was full moon about two hours before midnight, and
the evening was in consequence indescribably glorious. The
northerly position of Palermo produces a very strange effect :
as the city and shore come between the sun and the harbor,
its reflection is never observed on the waves. On this
account, though this was one of the brightest days, I found
the sea of a deep blue color, solemn, and oppressive ;
whereas, at Naples, from the time of noon it gets brighter
and brighter, and glitters with more airy lightness and to a
greater distance.
Kniep has to-day left me to make my pilgrimages and
observations by myself, in order that he might accurately
sketch the outline of Monte Pellegrino, the most beautiful
headland in the whole world.
Here, again, I must put a few things together, something
in the way of an appendix, and with the carelessness of
familiarity.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 275
At sunset of the 29th of March we left Naples, and
after only a passage of four days and three hours cast
anchor in the harbor of Palermo. The little diary which I
enclose will give an account of ourselves and our fortunes.
I never entered on a journey so calmly as on this, and have
never had a more quiet time of it than during our passage,
which a constant headwind has unusually prolonged, even
though I passed the time chiefly on my bed, in a close little
berth, to which I was obliged to keep during the first day, in
consequence of a violent attack of sea-sickness. Now my
thoughts pass over towards you ; for if ever any thing has
exercised a decided influence on my mind, this voyage has
certainly done so.
He who has never seen himself surrounded on all sides by
the sea, can never possess an idea of the world and of his
own relation to it. As a landscape-painter, I have received
entirely new ideas from this great simple line.
During our voyage we had, as the diary records, many
changes, and, on a small scale experienced all a sailor's
fortunes. However, the safety and convenience of the
packet-boat cannot be sufficiently commended. Our captain
is a very brave and an extremely handsome man. My
fellow-passengers consisted of a whole theatrical troop, well
mannered, tolerable, and agreeable. My artist, who accom-
panies me, is a merry, true-hearted fellow. In order to
shorten the weary hours of the passage, he has explained to
me all the mechanical part of aquarell, or painting in water-
colors, an art which has been carried to a great height of
perfection in Italy. He thoroughly understands the use of
particular colors for effecting certain tones, to produce
which, without knowing the secret, one might go on mixing
forever. I had, it is true, learned a good deal of it in
Rome, but never before so systematically. The artists must
have studied and perfected the art in a country like Italy or
this. No words can express the hazy brilliancy which
hung around the coasts, as on a most beautiful noon we
neared Palermo. He who has once seen it will never forget
it. Now, at last, I can understand Claude Lorraine, and can
cherish a hope that hereafter, in the North, I shall be able to
produce, from my soul, at least a faint idea of these glorious
abodes. Oh that only all littleness had departed from it as
entirely as the little charm of thatched roofs has vanished
from among my ideas of. what a drawing should be ! We
shall see what this ' ' Queen of Islands ' ' can do.
276 LETTERS. FROM ITALY.
No words can express the welcome — with its fresh green
mulberry trees, evergreen oleanders, and hedges of citron,
etc. In the open gardens, you see large beds of ranuncu-
luses and anemones. The air is mild, warm, and fragrant ;
the wind refreshing. The full moon, too, rose from behind
a promontory, and shone upon the sea ; and this joyous
scene after being tossed about four days and nights on the
waves !
Forgive me if, with the stump of a pen, and the Indian-
ink my fellow-traveller uses for his sketches, I scribble
down these remarks. I send them to you as a faint lisping
murmur ; since I am preparing for all that love me another
record of these, my happy hours. What it is to be I say
not ; and when you will receive it, that also it is out of my
power to tell.
This letter must, as far as possible, impart to you, mj
dearest friends, a high treat : it is intended to convey to you
a description of an unrivalled bay, embracing a vast mast/
of waters. Beginuing from the east, where a flattish head-
land runs far out into the sea, it is dotted with many rugged,
beautifully shaped, wood-crowned rocks, until it reaches the
fishing-huts of the suburbs ; then the town itself, the fore-
most houses of which (and among them our own hotel) al)
look towards the harbor and the great gate by which we
entered.
Then it stretches westward, and passing the usual land-
ing-place, where vessels of smaller burden can touch, comes
next to what is properly the harbor, near the Mole, which is
the station of all larger vessels ; and then, at the western
point, to protect the shipping, rises Monte Pellegrino, with
its beautiful contour, after leaving between it and the main-
land a lovely fertile valley, which at its other end again
reaches the sea.
Kniep sketched away. I took, with my mind's eye, the
plan of the country (ich schematisirte) , with great delight;
and now, glad to have reached home again, we feel neither
strength nor energy to tell a long story, and to go into
particulars. Our endeavors must, therefore, be reserved
for a future occasion ; and this sheet must serve to convince
you of our inability adequately to seize these objects, or
rather of our presumption in thinking to grasp and master
them in so short a time.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 277
Palermo,
Wednesday, April 4, 1787.
In the afternoon we paid a visit to the fertile and delight-
ful valley at the foot of the Southern Mountains, running
by Palermo, and through which the Ore to meanders. Here,
too, is a call for the painter's e} 7 e, and a practised hand to
convey an idea of it. Kniep, however, hastily siezed an
excellent point of view, at a spot where the pent-up water
was dashing down from a half-broken weir, and was shaded
by a lovely group of trees, behind which an uninterrupted
prospect opened up the valley, affording a view of several
farm buildings.
Beautiful spring weather, and a budding luxuriance, dif-
fused over the whole valley a refreshing feeling of peace,
which our stupid guide marred by his ill-timed erudition ;
telling us that in former days Hannibal had fought a battle
here, and circumstantially detailing all the dreadful feats of
war which had been perpetrated on the spot. In no friendly
mood I reproved him for thus fatally calling up again such
departed spectres. It was bad enough, I said, that from
time to time the crops should be trodden down, if not by
elephants, yet by men and horses. At an} r rate, it was not
right to scare away the peaceful dreams of imagination by
reviving such tumults and horrors.
The guide was greatly surprised that I could, on such a
spot, despise classical reminiscences ; nor could I make him
understand how greatly such a mingling of the past with the
present displeased me.
Still more singular did our guide deem me, when at all
the shallow places, of which a great many are left dry by
the stream, I searched for pebbles, and carried off with me
specimens of each sort. I again found it difficult to make
him understand that there was no readier way of forming an
idea of a mountainous district like that before us, than by
examining the nature of the stones which are washed down
by the streams ; and that in so doing, the purpose was to
acquire a right notion of those eternally classic heights of
the ancient world.
And, indeed, my gains from this stream were large
enough : I carried away nearly forty specimens, which, how-
ever, may be comprised under a few classes. Most of these
were of a species of rock, which, in one respect, might be
regarded as a sort of jasper or hornblende ; in another,
looked like clay-slate. I found some pebbles rounded, others
278 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
of a rhomboidal shape, others of irregular forms and oi
various colors : moreover, many varieties of the primeval
limestone ; not a few specimens of breccia, of which the sub-
stratum was lime, and holding jasper or modifications of
limestone ; rubbles of muschelkalk were not wanting either
The horses here are fed on barley, cut straw (hackerling) ,
and clover. In spring they give them the green barley, in
order to refresh them, — per rinfrescar is the phrase. As
there are no meadows here, they have no hay. On the hill-
sides there are some pasture-lands ; and also in the corn-
fields, as a third is always left fallow. They keep but few
sheep, and these are of a breed from Barbary. On the
whole, they have more mules than horses, because the hot
food suits the former better than the latter.
The plain on which Palermo is situated, as well as the dis-
tricts of Ai Colli, which lie without the city, and a part also
of Baggaria, have for their basis the muschelkalk, of which
the city is built. There are, for this purpose, extensive
quarries of it in the neighborhood. In one place, near
Monte Pellegrino, they are more than fifty feet deep. The
lower layers are of a whiter hue. In it are found many pet-
rified corals and other shell-fish, but principally great scal-
lops. The upper stratum is mixed with red marl, and con-
tains but few, if any, fossils. Right above it lies the red
marl, of which, however, the layer is not very stiff.
Monte Pellegrino, however, rises out of all this. It is a
primary limestone, has many hollows and fissures, which,
although very irregular, when closely observed are found to
follow the order of the strata. The stone is close, and rings
when struck.
Palermo,
Thursday, April 5, 1787.
We have gone carefully through the city. The style of
architecture resembles for the most part that of Naples ; but
the public buildings, for instance the fountains, are still fur-
ther removed from good taste. Here there is no artistic
mind to regulate the public works : the edifices owe both
their shape and existence to chance. A fountain, which is
the admiration of the whole island, would, perhaps, never
have existed, had not Sicily furnished a beautiful variegated
marble, and had not a sculptor well practised in animal
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 279
shapes happened to be in favor precisely at the time. It
would be a difficult matter to describe this fountain. In a
moderately sized site stands a round piece of masonry, not
quite a staff high (Stock hoch). The socle, the wall, and
the cornice are of variegated marble. In the wall are several
niches in a row, from which animals of all kinds, in white
marble, are looking with stretched-out necks. Horses, lions,
camels, and elephants, are interchanged one with another ;
and one scarcely expects to find, within the circle of this
menagerie, a fountain, to which, through four openings,
marble steps lead you down to draw from the water, which
flows in abundance.
The same nearly may be said of the churches, in which
even the Jesuits' love of show and finery is surpassed, but
not from design or plan, but by accident, — just as artist
after artist, whether sculptor, carver, gilder, lackerer, or
worker in marble, chose, without taste or rule, to display on
each vacant spot their several abilities.
Amidst all this, however, one cannot fail to recognize a
certain talent in imitating natural objects : for instance, the
heads of the animals around the fountains are very well exe-
cuted. By this means it is, in truth, that the admiration of
the multitude is excited, whose artistic gratification consists
chiefly in comparing the imitation with its living prototype.
Towards evening I made a merry acquaintance, as I en-
tered the house of a small dealer in the Long Street, in order
to purchase some trifles. As I stood before the window
to look at the wares, a slight breeze arose, which eddying
along the whole street, at last distributed through all the
windows and doors the immense cloud of dust which it had
raised. u By all the saints," I cried, u whence comes all the
dust of your town? is there no helping it? In its length
and beauty, this street vies with any in the Corso in Rome.
On both sides a fine pavement, which each stall and shop
holder keeps clean by interminable sweeping, but brushes
every thing into the middle of the street, which is, in conse-
quence, so much the dirtier, and with every breath of wind
sends back to you the filth which has just before been swept
into the roadway. In Naples busy donkeys carry off, day by
day, the rubbish to the gardens and farms. Why should you
not here contrive and establish some similar regulation ? ' '
" Things with us are as they are," he replied : " we throw
every thing out of the house, and it rots before the door.
You see here horse-dung and filth of all kinds : it lies there
280 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
and dries, and returns to us again in the shape of dust.
Against it we are taking precautions all day long. But look,
our pretty little and ever busy brooms, worn out at last, only
go to increase the heap of filth before our doors."
And oddly enough it was actually so. They had nothing
but very little besoms of palm-branches, which, slightly
altered, might have been really useful ; but as it was, they
broke off easily, and the stumps were lying by thousands in
the streets. To my repeated questioning, whether there was
no board or regulations to prevent all this, he replied, "A
story is current among the people, that those whose duty it
was to provide for the cleansing of our streets, being men of
great power and influence, could not be compelled to disburse
the money on its lawful objects." And, besides that, there
was also the strange fact that certain parties feared that if
the dirty straw and dung were swept away, every one would
see how badly the pavement beneath was laid down ; and so
the dishonesty of a second body would be thereby exposed.
" All this, however," he remarked, with a most humorous
expression, "is merely the interpretation which the ill-dis-
posed put upon it." For his part, he was of the opinion of
those who maintained that the nobles preserved this soft lit-
ter for their carriages, in order that, when they take their
drive for amusement in the evening, they might ride at ease
over the elastic ground. And as the man was now in the
humor, he joked away at many of the abuses of the police,
— a consolatory proof to me that man has always humor
enough to make merry with what he cannot help.
St. Rosalie, the patron saint of Palermo, is so universally
known, from the description which Brydone has given of her
festival, that it must assuredly be agreeable to my friends to
read some account of the place and the spot where she is
most particularly worshipped.
Monte Pellegrino, a vast mass of rocks, of which the
breadth is greater than the height, lies on the north-west ex-
tremity of the Bay of Palermo. Its beautiful form admits
not of being described by words : a most excellent view of it
may be seen in the Voyage Pittoresque de la Sidle. It con-
sists of a gray limestone of the earlier epoch. The rocks are
quite barren ; not a tree nor a bush will grow on them : even
the more smooth and level portions are but barely covered
with grasses or mosses.
In a cavern of this mountain, the bones of the saint were
discovered, at the beginning of the last century, and brought
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 281
to Palermo. The? presence of them delivered the city from a
pestilence, and ever since S. Rosalie has been the patron
saint of the people. Chapels have been built in her honor,
splendid festivals have been instituted.
The pious and devout frequently made pilgrimages to the
mountain ; and, in consequence, a road has been made to it,
which, like an ancient aqueduct, rests on arches and columns,
and ascends zigzag between the rocks.
The place of worship is far more suitable to the humility
of the saint who retired thither, than are the splendid festivi-
ties which have been instituted in honor of her total renun-
ciation of the world. And perhaps the whole of Christen-
dom, which now, for eighteen hundred years, has based its
riches, pomps, and festival amusements, on the memory of
its first founders and most zealous confessors, cannot point
out a holy spot which has been adorned and rendered vener-
able in so eminent and delightful a way.
When you have ascended the mountain, you proceed to the
corner of a rock, over against which there rises a high wall
of stone. On this the church and the monastery are very
finely situated.
The exterior of the church has nothing promising or in-
viting. You open its door without any high expectation, but
on entering are ravished with wonder. Y r ou find yourself
in a vast vestibule, which extends to the whole width of
the church, and is open towards the nave. Y^ou see here the
usual vessel of holy water and some confessionals. The nave
is an open space, which on the right is bounded by the
native rock, and on the left by the continuation of the vesti-
bule. It is paved with flat stones on a slight inclination, in
order that the rain-water may run off. A small well stands
nearly in the centre.
The cave itself has been transformed into the choir, with-
out, however, any of its rough natural shape being altered.
Ascending a few steps, close upon them stands the choris-
ters' desk with the choir-books, and on each side are the
seats of the choristers. The whole is lighted by the day-
light, which is admitted from the court or nave. Deep
within, in the dark recesses of the cave, stands the high-
altar.
As already stated, no change has been made in the cave :
only, as the rocks drip incessantly with water, it was neces-
sary to keep the place dry. This has been effected by means
of tin tubes, which are fastened to every projection of the
282 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
rock, and in various ways connected with each other. As
they are broad above, and come to a narrow edge below, and
are, moreover, painted of a dull green color, they give to
the rock an appearance of being overgrown with a species
of cactus. The water is conducted into a clear reservoir,
out of which it is taken by the faithful as a remedy and
preventative for every kind of ill.
As I was narrowly observing all this, an ecclesiastic came
up to me and asked whether I was a Genoese, and wished
to have a few masses said. I replied upon this that I had
come to Palermo with a Genoese, who would to-morrow, as
it was a festival, come up to the shrine ; but, as one of us
must always be at home, I had come up to-day in order to
look about me. Upon this he observed, I was at perfect
liberty to look at every thing at my leisure, and to perform
nry devotions. In particular he pointed out to me a little
altar, which stood on the left, as especially holy, and then
left me.
Through the openings of a large trelliss-work of lattice,
lamps appeared burning before an altar. I knelt down close
to the gratings and peeped through. Farther in, however,
another lattice of brass wire was drawn across : so that one
looked, as it were, through gauze at the objects within. By
the light of some dull lamps, I caught sight of a lovely
female form.
She lay seemingly in a state of ecstasy, — the eyes half-
closed, the head leaning carelessly on the right hand, which
was adorned with many rings. I could not sufficiently dis-
cern her face, but it seemed to be peculiarly charming. Her
robe was made of gilded metal, which imitated excellently a
texture wrought with gold. The head and hands were of
white marble. I cannot say that the whole was in the lofty
style, still it was executed so naturally and so pleasingly
that one almost fancied it must breathe and move. A little
angel stands near her, and with a bunch of lilies in his hand
appears to be fanning her.
Meanwhile, the clergy had come into the cave, taken their
places, and began to chant the Vespers.
I took my seat right before the altar, and listened to them
for a while : then I again approached the altar, knelt down,
and attempted to obtain a still more distinct view of the
beautiful image. I resigned myself without reserve to the
charming illusion of the statue and the locality.
The chant of the priests now resounded through the cave ;
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 283
the water was trickling into the reservoir near the altar ;
while the over-hanging rocks of the vestibule — the proper
nave of the church — shut in the scene. There was a deep
stillness in this waste spot, whose inhabitants seemed to be
all dead, — a singular neatness in a wild cave. The tinsel and
tawdry pomp of the Roman-Catholic ceremonial, especially
as it is vividly decked out in Sicily, had here reverted to its
original simplicity. The illusion produced by the statue of
the fair sleeper, which had a charm even for the most
practised eye — in short, it was with the greatest difficulty
that I tore myself from the spot, and it was late at night
before I got back to Palermo.
Palermo,
Saturday, April 7, 1787.
In the public gardens, which are close to the roadstead, I
have passed some most delightful hours. It is the most
wonderful place in the world : regularly laid out by art, it
still looks a fairy spot ; planted but a short time ago, it yet
transports you into ancient times. Green edgings surround
beds of the choicest exotics ; citron-espaliers arch over low-
arbored walks ; high walls of the oleander, decked with
thousands of its red carnation-like blossoms, dazzle the eye ;
trees, wholly strange and unknown to me, as yet without
leaf, and probably, therefore, natives of a still warmer cli-
mate, spread out their strange-looking branches. A raised
seat at the end of the level space gives you a survey of
these curiously mixed rarities, and leads the eye at last to
great basins in which gold and silver fish swim about with
their pretty movements, — now hiding themselves beneath
moss-covered reeds, now darting in troops to catch the bit
of bread which has tempted them from their hiding-place.
All the plants exhibit tints of green such as we are not used to,
— yellower and bluer than are found with us. What, how-
ever, lent to every object the rarest charm was a strong halo
which hung around every thing alike, and produced the fol-
lowing singular effect : objects which were only distant a
few steps from others, were distinguished from them by a
decided tint of light blue, so that at last the distinctive
colors of the most remote were almost merged in it, or at
least assumed to the eye a decidedly strong blue tint.
The very singular effect which such a halo imparts to dis-
tinct objects, vessels, and headlands, is remarkable enough
to an artistic eye : it assists it accurately to distinguish and,
284 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
indeed, to measure distances. It makes, too, a walk on the
heights extremely charming. One no longer sees Nature,
nothing but pictures ; just as if a painter of exquisite taste
had arranged them in a gallery.
But these wonderful gardens have made a deep and lasting
impression on my mind. The black waves on the northern
horizon, as they broke on the irregular points of the bay, —
and even the smell of the sea, — all seemed to recall to my
imagination, as well as to my memory, the happy island of
the Phaeacians. I hastened to purchase a "Homer," and
began to read this book with the highest delight, making an
impromptu translation of it for the benefit of Kniep, who
had well deserved by his diligent exertions this day some
agreeable refreshment over a glass of wine.
Palermo, April 8, 1787.
(Easter Day.)
The morning rejoicings in the blissful Resurrection of the
Lord commenced with break of day. Crackers, wild-fires,
rockets, serpents, etc., were let off by wholesale in front of
the churches, as the worshippers crowded in at the open
doors. The chiming of bells, the pealing of organs, the
chanting of processions, and of the choirs of priests who
came to meet them, were enough to stun the ears of all
who had not been used to such noisy worship.
The early mass was scarcely ended, when two well-dressed
couriers of the viceroy visited our hotel, with the double
object of offering to all strangers his highness 's congratu-
lations on the festival, and to exact a douceur in return.
As I was specially honored with an invitation to dinner, my
gift was, of course, expected to be considerable.
After spending the morning in visiting the different
churches, I proceeded to the viceroy's palace, which is situ-
ated at the upper end of the city. As I arrived rather
early, I found the great hall still empty : there was only a
little, lively man, who came up to me, and whom I soon
discovered to be a Maltese.
When he had learned that I was a German, he asked if I
could give him any account of Erfurt, where he had spent
a very pleasant time on a short visit.
As he asked me about the family of the Dacherodes, and
about the Coadjutor von Dalberg, I was able to give some
account of them, at which he seemed much delighted, and
inquired after other people of Thuringia. With considerable
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 285
interest he then inquired about Weimar. "And how," he
asked, " is the person, who, full of youth and vivacity when
I was there, was the life of society? I have forgotten his
name, but he is the author of ' Werther.' "
After a little pause, as if for the sake of tasking my
memory, I answered, "I am the person whom you are in-
quiring about." With the most visible signs of astonish-
ment he sprung back, exclaiming, "There must have been
a great change then ! " " Oh, yes ! " I rejoined, " between
Palermo and Weimar I have gone through many a change."
At this moment the viceroy and suite entered the apart-
ment. His carriage evinced that graceful freedom which
became so distinguished a personage. He could not refrain
from laughing at the Maltese, as he went on expressing his
astonishment to see me here. At table I sat by the side of
the viceroy, who inquired into the objects of my journey,
and assured me that he would give orders that every thing in
Palermo should be open to my inspection, and that every
possible facility should be given me during my tour through
Sicily.
Palermo,
Monday, April 9, 1787.
This whole day has been taken up with the stupidities of
the Prince Pallagonia, whose follies are thoroughly different
from what one would form an idea of either by reading or by
hearing of them. For, with the slightest love of truth, he
who wishes to furnish an account of the absurd, gets into a
dilemma : he is anxious to give an idea of it, and so makes it
something, whereas, in reality, it is a nothing which seeks to
pass for something. And here I must premise another gen-
eral reflection ; viz., that neither the most tasteless nor the
most excellent production comes entirely and immediately
from a single individual or a single age, but that with a little
attention any one may trace its pedigree and descent.
The fountain already described in Palermo belongs to the
forefathers of the Pallagonian follies, only that the latter, in
their own soil and domain, develop themselves with the great-
est freedom and on the largest scale.
When in these parts a country-seat is built, it is usually
placed in the middle of a whole property : and therefore, in
order to reach the princely mansion, you have to pass through
cultivated fields, kitchen-gardens, and similar rural conven-
iences ; for these Southerns show far more of economy than
286 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
we Northmen, who often waste a good piece of rich land on a
park, which, with its barren shrubs, can only charm the eye.
But here it is the fashion to build two walls, between which
you pass to the castle, without knowing in the least what is
doing on your right and left. This passage begins generally
with a grand portico, and sometimes with a vaulted hall, and
ends with the mansion itself. But, in order that the eye
may not be entirely without relief between these by- walls,
they are generally arched over, and ornamented with scrolls,
and also with pedestals, on which, here and there, a vase is
placed. The flat surfaces are plastered, divided into com-
partments, and painted. The court is formed by a circle of
one-storied cabins, in which work-people of all sorts reside,
while the quadrangular castle towers over all.
This is the sort of building which is here traditionally
adopted, and which probably was the old form, when the
father of the present prince rebuilt the castle, not in the
best, but still in tolerable taste. But the present possessor,
without abandoning the general features of this stjie, gave
free course to his humor and passion for the most ill-shapen
and tasteless of erections. One would do him too much
honor by giving him credit for even one spark of taste.
We entered, therefore, the great hall, which stands at the
beginning of the property, and found ourselves in an octag-
onal room, of a breadth altogether disproportioned to its
height. Four vast giants with modern spatterdashes, which
had just been buttoned on, . support the cornice, on which,
directly meeting the eye as you enter, is a representation of
the Holy Trinity.
The passage to the castle is broader than usual, the wall
being converted into one continuous high socle ; from which
basement the strangest groups possible reach to the top,
while in the spaces between them several vases are placed.
The ugliness of these unshapely figures (the bungling work
of the most ordinary mason) is increased by their having
been cut out of a very crumbly muscheltufa ; although, per-
haps, a better material would have made the badness of
the form still more striking to the e} r e. I used the word
"groups" a moment ago; but I have employed a wrong
term, inappropriate in this place. For they are mere juxta-
positions, determined by no thought, but by mere arbitrary
caprice. In each case three form the ornament of a square
pedestal, their bases being so arranged as to fill up the space
by their various postures. The principal groups have gener-
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 287
filly two figures, which occupy the chief face of the pedestal,
and then two are yet wanting to fill up the back part of the
pedestal. One of a moderate size generally represents a
shepherd or shepherdess, a cavalier or a lady, a dancing ape
or a hound. Still there is a vacant spot on the pedestal :
this is generally held by a dwarf, — as, indeed, in dull jokes,
this sort of gentry usually play a conspicuous part.
That we may not omit any of the elements of Prince Pal-
lagonia's folly, we give you the accompanying catalogue.
Men : Beggars, male and female, Spanish men and women,
Moors, Turks, hunchbacks, cripples of all sorts, strolling
musicians, pulcinellos, soldiers in ancient uniforms, gods,
goddesses, gentlemen in old French costumes, soldiers with
cartouche boxes and gaiters, mythological personages (with
most ridiculous companions, — Achilles and Charon, for in-
stance, with Punch). Animals (merely parts of them) :
Heads of horses on human bodies, mis-shapen apes, lots of
dragons and serpents, all sorts of feet under figures of all
kinds, double-headed monsters, and creatures with heads that
do not belong to them. Vases : All sorts of monsters and
scrolls, which below end in the hollows and bases of vases.
Just let any one think of such figures furnished by whole-
sale, produced without thought or sense, and arranged with-
out choice or purpose, — only let him conceive to himself this
socle, these pedestals and unshapely objects in an endless
series, and he will be able to sympathize with the disagree-
able feelings which must seize every one whose miserable
fate condemns him to run the gauntlet of such absurdities.
We now approach the castle, and are received into a semi-
circular fore-court. The chief wall before us, through which
is the entrance-door, is in the castle style. Here we find
an Egyptian figure built into the wall, a fountain without
water, a monument, vases stuck around in no sort of order,
statues designedly laid on their noses. Next we came to the
castle court, rnd found the usual round area, enclosed with
little cottages, distorted into small semicircles, in order, for-
sooth, that there might be no want of variety.
The ground is, for the most part, overgrown with grass.
Here, as in the neighborhood of a church in ruins, are marble
urns with strange scrolls and foliations, collected by his
father ; dwarfs and other abortions of the later epoch, for
which, as yet, fitting places have not been found ; one even
comes upon an arbor, propped up with ancient vases, and
stone scrolls of various shapes.
288 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
The absurdities produced by such want of judgment and
taste, however, are strikingly instanced by the fact, that the
window sills in these cottages are, without exception, oblique,
and lean to one side or the other, so as to offend and violate
all sense of the level and perpendicular, which are so indis-
pensable in the human mind, and form the foundation of
all architectural propriety. And then, again, the edges of all
the roofs are embellished with hydras and little busts, with
choirs of monkeys playing music, and similar conceits.
Dragons alternate with deities ; an Atlas, who sustains not
the mundane sphere, but an empty wine-barrel !
One hopes to escape from all this by entering the castle,
which, having been built by the father, presents relatively a
more rational appearance when viewed from the exterior.
But in vain ; for at no great distance from the door, one
stumbles upon the laurel-crowned head of a Roman emperor
on the body of a dwarf, who is sitting astride a dolphin.
Now, in the castle itself, of which the exterior gives hope
of at least a tolerable interior, the madness of the prince
begins again to rave. Many of the seats have lost their legs,
so that no one can sit upon them ; and if some appear to
promise a resting-place, the chamberlain warns you against
them, as having sharp prickles beneath their satin-covered
cushions. In all the corners are candelabras of porcelain
china, which, on a nearer view, you discover to be cemented
together out of different bowls, cups, saucers, etc., etc. Not
a corner but some whim peeps out of it. Even the une-
qualled prospect over the promontory into the sea is spoiled
by colored glass, which, by its false lights, gives either a
cold or a fiery tint to the neighboring scenes. I must also
mention a cabinet, which is inlaid with old gold frames, cut
in pieces. All the hundred-fold carvings, all the endless
varieties of ancient and modern, more or less dust-stained
and time-injured, gilding, closely huddled together, cover all
the walls, and give you the idea of a miniature lumber-room.
To describe the chapel alone would require a volume.
Here one finds the solution of the whole folly, which could
never have reached such a pitch in any but a bigoted mind.
How many monstrous creations of a false and misled devo-
tion are here to be found, I must leave you to guess for
yourself. However, I cannot refrain from mentioning the
most outrageous : a carved crucifix is fastened flat to the
roof, painted after nature, lackered and gilded ; into the na-
vel of the figure attached to the cross, a hook is screwed,
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 289
and from the latter hangs a chain which is fastened to
the head of a man who, in a kneeling and praying posture, is
suspended in the air, and, like all the other figures in the
church, is painted and lackered. In all probability it is in-
tended to serve as a type of the owner's unceasing devotion.
Moreover, the house is not finished within. A hall built
by the father, and intended to be decorated with rich and
varied ornaments, but not tricked out in a false and offensive
taste, is still incomplete ; so that, it would seem, even the
boundless madness of the possessor is at a stand-still.
Kniep's artistic feeling was almost driven to desperation
in this mad-house ; and, for the first time in my life, I found
him quite impatient. He hurried me away, when I wished
to take a note of, and to perpetuate the memory of, these
monstrous absurdities, one by one. Good-naturedly enough,
he at last took a sketch of one of these compositions, which
did, at least, form a kind of group. It represents a woman
with a horse's head, sitting on a stool, and playing at cards
with a cavalier, dressed, as to his lower extremities, in the
old fashion, while his gray head is ornamented with a large
wig and a crown. The statue reminded me of the arms of
the house of Pallagonia, — a satyr, holding up a mirror
before a woman with a horse's head, which, even after all the
strange follies of its present head, seems to me highly
singular.
Palermo,
Tuesday, April 10, 1787.
To-day we took a drive up the mountains to Monreale t
along a glorious road which was laid down by an abbot of
this cloister in the times of its opulence and wealth, — broad,
of easy ascent ; trees here and there ; springs, and dripping
wells, decked out with ornaments and scrolls somewhat Pal-
lagonian in style, but still, in spite of all that, refreshing to
both man and beast.
The monastery of St. Martin, which lies on the height, is
a respectable building. One bachelor alone, as we see in the
case of Prince Pallagonia, has seldom produced any thing
rational ; but several together, on the other hand, have
effected the greatest works, such as churches and monas-
teries. But perhaps these spiritual fraternities produced so
much, simply because, more than any father of a family,
they could reckon with certainty on a numerous posterity.
The monks readily permitted us to view their collection
290 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
of antiques and natural objects. They contained many excel-
lent specimens of both. Our attention was particularly fixed
by a medallion, with the figure of a young goddess, which
must excite the rapture of every beholder. The good monks
would willingly have given us a copy, but there was nothing
within reach which would do to make a mould.
After they had exhibited to us all their treasures, — not
without entering on an unfavorable comparison of their pres-
ent with their former condition, — they led us into a small
but pleasant room, from the balcony of which one enjoyed a
lovely prospect. Here covers were laid for us alone, and we
had a very excellent dinner to ourselves. When the dessert
was served, the abbot and the senior monks entered, and
took their seats. They remained nearly half an hour, during
which time we had to answer many questions. We took a
most friendly farewell of them. The younger brethren ac-
companied us once more to the rooms where the collections
were kept, and at last to our carriage.
We drove home with feelings very different from those of
yesterday. To-day we had to regret a noble institution
which was falling with time ; while, on the other hand, a
most tasteless undertaking had a constant supply of wealth
for its support.
The road to St. Martin ascends a hill of the earlier lime-
stone formation. The rock is quarried and broken, and
burnt into lime, which is very white. For burning the stone,
they make use of a long, coarse sort of grass, which is dried
in bundles. Here, too, it is that the calorex is produced.
Even on the most precipitous heights lies a red clay, of allu-
vial origin, which serves the purposes of our dam-earth.
The higher it lies the redder it is, and is but little blackened
by vegetation. I saw, at a distance, a ravine almost like
cinnabar.
The monastery stands in the middle of the limestone hill,
which is very rich in springs.
Palermo,
Wednesday, April 11, 1787.
Having explored the two principal objects without the
city, we betook ourselves to the palace, where a busy courier
showed us the rooms and their contents. To our great
horror, the room iu which the antiques are generally placed
was in the greatest disorder, in consequence of the walls
being in the process of decoration. The statues were
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 291
removed from their usual places, covered with cloth, and pro-
tected by wooden frames ; so that in spite of the good will
of our guide, and some trouble on the part of the work-
people, we could only gain a very imperfect idea of them.
My attention was chiefly occupied with two rams in bronze,
which, notwithstanding the unfavorable circumstances, highly
delighted our artistic taste. They are represented in a
recumbent posture, with one foot stretched out before them,
with the heads (in order to form a pair) turned on different
sides. Powerful forms, belonging to the mythological family,
and well worthy to carry Phrixus and Helle. The wool, not
short and crisp, but long and flowing, with a slight wave,
and shape most true to nature, and extremely elegant: they
evidently belonged to the best period of Grecian art. They
are said to have stood originally in the harbor of Syracuse.
The courier now took us out of the city to the catacombs,
which, laid out on a regular architectural plan, are any thing
but quarries converted into burial-places. In a rock of tufa,
of tolerable hardness, the side of which has been worked level
and perpendicular, vaulted openings have been cut ; and in
these, again, are hewn several tiers of sarcophagi, one above
the other, all of the natural material, without masonry of
any kind. The upper tiers are smaller, and in the spaces
over the pillars are tombs for children.
Palermo,
Thursday, April 12.
To day we have been shown Prince Torremuzza's cabinet
of medals. I was, in a certain degree, loth to go there.
I am too little versed in these matters, and a mere curiosity -
mongering traveller is thoroughly detested by all true con-
noisseurs and scholars. But as one must in every case make
a beginning, I made myself easy on this head, and have
derived both gratification and profit from my visit. What a
satisfaction, even cursorily, to glance at the fact that the old
world was thickly sown with cities, the smallest of which has
bequeathed to us in its precious coins, if not a complete
series, yet at lest some epochs, of its history of art. Out of
these cabinets, there smiles upon us an eternal spring of the
blossoms and flowers of art, of a busy life ennobled with
high tastes, and of much more besides. Out of these form-
endowed pieces of metal, the glory of the Sicilian cities, now
obscured, still shines forth fresh before us.
Unfortunately, we in our youth had seen none but family
Goethe-— J Vol 4
292 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
coins, which say nothing, and the coins of the Caesars, which
repeat to satiety the same profile, — portraits of rulers who are
to be regarded as any thing but models of humanity. How
sadly had our youth been confined to a shapeless Palestine,
and to a shape-perplexing Rome ! Sicily and Nova Grsecia
give me hopes again of a fresh existence.
That on these subjects I should enter into general reflec-
tions, is a proof that as yet I do not understand much about
them ; yet that, with all the rest, will in degrees be improved.
Palermo,
Thursday, April 12, 1787.
This evening a wish of mine was gratified, and in a very
singular fashion. I was standing on the pavement of the
principal street, joking at the window with the shopkeeper
I formerly mentioned, when suddenly a footman, tall and
well-dressed, came up to me, and quickly poked a silver
salver before me, on which were several copper coins and a
few pieces of silver. As I could not make out what it all
meant, I shook my iiead and shrugged my shoulders, the usual
token by which in this country you get rid of those whose
address or question you either cannot, or do not wish to,
understand.
"What does all this mean?" I asked of my friend the
shopkeeper, who, with a very significant mien, and somewhat
stealthily, pointed to a lank and haggard gentleman, who,
elegantly dressed, was walking with great dignity and indif-
ference through the dung and dirt. Frizzled and powdered,
with his hat under his arm, in a silken vest, with his sword by
his side, and having a neat shoe ornamented with a jewelled
buckle, the old man walked on calmly and sorrowfully.
All eyes were directed towards him.
"It is Prince Pallagonia, ,, said the dealer, "who, from
time to time, goes through the city collecting money to ran-
som the slaves in Barbary. It is true, he does not get much
by his collection, but the object is kept in memory ; and so
it often happens that those who, in their life-time, were back-
ward in giving, leave large legacies at their death. The
prince has for many years been at the head of this society,
and has done a great deal of good."
1 ' Instead of wasting so much on the follies of his country-
house," I cried, "he might have spent the same large sum
on this object. Then no prince in the world would have
accomplished more."
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 293
To this the shopkeeper rejoined : ' ' But is not that the
way with us all ? We are ready enough to pay for our own
follies. Our virtues must look to the purses of others for
their support."
Palermo, April 13, 1787.
Count Borck has very diligently worked before us in the
mineralogy of Sicily, and whoever of the same mind visits
the island after him, must willingly acknowledge his obliga-
tions to him. I feel it a pleasure, no less than a duty, to
celebrate the memory of my predecessor. And what am I
more than a forerunner of others yet to be, both in my trav-
els and life.
However, the industry of the count seems to me to have
been greater than his knowledge. He appears to have gone to
work with a certain reserve, which is altogether opposed to that
stern earnestness with which grand objects should be treated.
Nevertheless, his essay in quarto, which is exclusively
devoted to the mineralogy of Sicily, has been of great use
to me ; and, prepared by it, I was able to profit by my visit
to the quarries, which formerly, when it was the custom to
case the churches and altars with marble and agate, were
more busily worked, though even now they are not idle. I
purchased from them some specimens of the hard and soft
stones ; for it is thus that they usually designate the marble
and agate, chiefly because a difference of price mainly
depends on this difference of quality. But, besides these,
they have still another for a material which is the produce of
the fire of their kilns. In these, after each burning, they
find a sort of glassy flux, which in color varies from the
lightest to the darkest, and even blackest blue. These
lumps are, like other stones, cut into thin lamina, and then
pierced, according to the height of their color and their
purity, and are successfully employed, in the place of lapis
lazuli, in the decoration of churches, altars, and sepulchral
monuments.
A complete collection, such as I wished, is not to be had
at present : it is to be sent after me to Naples. The agates
are of the greatest beauty, especially such as are variegated
with irregular pieces of yellow or red jasper, and with white,
and as it were frozen quartz, which produce the most beauti-
ful effect.
A very accurate imitation of these agates, produced by
lake coloring on the back of thin plates of glass, is the
294 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
only rational thing that I observed the other day among the
Pallagonian follies. Such imitations are far better for deco-
rations than the real agate ; since the latter are only found in
very small pieces, whereas the size of the former depends on
nothing but the size of the artist's plate. This contrivance
of art well deserves to be imitated.
Italy without Sicily leaves no image on the soul : here is
the key to all.
Of the climate it is impossible to say enough. It is now
rainy weather, but not uninterruptedly wet : yesterday it
thundered and lightened, and to-day all is intensely green.
The flax has in places already put forth joints : in others it
is boiling. Looking down from the hills, one fancies he sees
in the plain below little ponds, so beautifully blue-green are
the flax-fields here and there. Living objects without num-
ber surround you. And my companion is an excellent
fellow, the true Hoffegut (Hopeful) , and I honestly sustain
the part of the True friend. He has already made some
beautiful sketches, and will take still more before we go.
What a prospect, — to return home some day, happy, and
with all these treasures !
Of the meat and drink here, in the country, I have said
nothing as yet : however, it is by no means an indifferent
matter. The garden-stuffs are excellent, especially the let-
tuce, which is particularly tender, with a milky taste : it
makes one understand at once why the ancients termed it
lactuca. Oil and wine of all kinds are very good, and
might be still better if more care were bestowed on their
preparation. Fish of the very best and tenderest. We
have had, too, very good beef, though generally people do
not praise it.
Now, after dinner, to the window! — to the streets! A
malefactor has just been pardoned, an event which takes
place every year in honor of the festival of Easter. The
brethren of some order or other led him to the foot of a
gallows which had been erected for sake of the ceremony ;
then the criminal at the foot of the ladder offers up a prayer
or two, and, having kissed the scaffold, is led away again.
He was a good-looking fellow of the middle age, in a white
coat, white hat, and all else white. He carried his hat in
his hand : at different points they attached variegated rib-
bons to him, so that at last he was quite in tune to go to any
masquerade in the character of a shepherd.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 295
Palermo,
April 13 and 14, 1787.
So, then, before my departure, I was to meet with a
strange adventure, of which I must forthwith give you a cir-
cumstantial account.
The whole time of my residence here, I have heard
scarcely any topic of conversation at the ordinary, but
Cagliostro, his origin and adventures. The people of
Palermo are all unanimous in asserting that a certain Joseph
Balsamo was born in their city, and, having rendered himself
infamous by many disgraceful acts, was banished. But
whether this person is identical with Count Cagliostro, was a
point on which opinions were divided. Some who knew
Balsamo personally asserted they recognized his features in
the engraving, which is well known in Germany, and which
has also travelled as far as Palermo.
In one of these conversations, one of the guests referred
to the trouble which a Palermitan lawyer had taken in exam-
ining this matter. He seems to have been commissioned
by the French Ministry to trace the origin of an indi-
vidual, who in the face of France, and, indeed, of the
whole world, had had the temerity to utter the silliest of idle
tales in the midst of a legal process which involved the
most important interests and the reputation of the highest
personages.
This lawyer, it was asserted, had prepared the pedigree of
Giuseppe Balsamo, together with an explanatory memoir
and documentary proofs. It has been forwarded to France,
where in all probability public use will be made of it.
As I expressed a wish to form the acquaintance of this
lawyer, of whom, besides, people spoke very highly, the per-
son who had recounted these facts offered to mention me to
him, and to introduce me.
After a few days we paid him a visit, and found him
busily engaged with his clients. When he had dismissed
them, and we had taken a luncheon, he produced a manu-
script which contained a transcript of Cagliostro' s pedigree,
and the rough draught of the memoir which had been sent
to France.
He laid the genealogy before me, and gave me the neces-
sary explanations ; of which I shall here give you as much
as is necessary to facilitate the understanding of the whole
business.
Giuseppe Balsamo's great-grandfather on his mother's
296 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
side was Matt6o Martello. The maiden name of his great-
grandmother is unknown. The issue of this marriage were
two daughters, — Maria, who married Giuseppe Bracconerie,
and became the grandmother of Giuseppe Balsamo ; and Vin-
cenza, married to Giuseppe Cagliostro, who was born in a
little village called La Noava, about eight miles from Mes-
sina. (I must note here that there are at this moment living
at Messina two bellfounders of this name.) This great-
aunt was subsequently godmother of Giuseppe Balsamo,
who was named after his great-uncle, and at last in foreign
countries assumed also the surname of this relation.
The Bracconerie had three children, — Felicita, Matteo,
and Antonia.
Felicita was married to Piedro Balsamo, who was the son
of Antonia Balsamo, ribbon-dealer in Palermo, and probably
of Jewish descent. Piedro Balsamo, the father of the noto-
rious Giuseppe, became bankrupt, and died in his five and
fortieth year. His widow, who is still living, had borne him,
besides the above-named Giuseppe Giovanna, Giuseppe
Maria, who married Giovanna Battista Capitummino, who
begot three children of her body and died.
The memoir, which was read to us by it§ obliging author,
and was at my request lent to me for a few days, was
founded on baptismal and marriage certificates and other
instruments which he had collected with great diligence. It
contains pretty nearly (as I conclude from a comparison
with a summary which I then made) all the circumstances
which have lately been made better known to the world by
the acts of the legal process at Rome ; viz., that Giuseppe
Balsamo was born at Palermo, in the beginning of June,
1743, and that at his baptism he was received back from the
priest's arms by Vincenza Cagliostro (whose maiden name
was Martello) ; that in his youth he took the habit of an
order of the Brothers of Mercy, which paid particular atten-
tion to the sick ; that he had shown great talent and skill for
medicine, but that for his disorderly practices he was
expelled the order, and thereupon set up in Palermo as a
dealer in magic, and treasure-finder.
His great dexterity in imitating every kind of handwriting
was not allowed by him to lie idle. He falsified, or rather
forged, an ancient document, by which the possession of
some lands was brought into litigation. He was soon an
object of suspicion, and cast into prison, but made his es-
cape, and was cited to appear under penalty of outlawry.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 297
He passed through Calabria towards Rome, where he mar-
ried the daughter of a beltmaker. From Rome he came
back to Naples, under the name of the Marchese Pellegrini.
He even ventured to pay a visit to Palermo, was recognized,
and taken prisoner, and made his escape in a manner that
well deserves being circumstantially detailed.
One of the principal nobles of Sicily, who possessed very
large property, and held several important posts at the
Neapolitan court, had a son, who to a frame of unusual
strength, and an uncontrollable temper, united all the wanton
excesses which the rich and great, without education, can
think themselves privileged to indulge in.
Donna Lorenza had managed to attract him, and on him
the pretended Marchese Pellegrini relied for impunity. The
prince avowed openly his patronage of this couple of new-
comers, and set no bounds to his rage when Giuseppe Bal-
samo, at the instance of the party whom he had injured, was
a second time cast into prison. He had recourse to various
means to obtain his liberation ; and, when these were unsuc-
cessful, he, in the very ante-room of the president's court,
threatened the advocate of the opposite party with the most
dreadful consequences if he did not consent to the release of
Balsamo. As the opposing advocate refused his consent,
he rushed upon him, struck him, knocked him down, and
kicked him, and was only with difficulty restrained from
further violence when the judge, hearing the noise, rushed in
and commanded peace.
The latter, a weak and cringing character, had not the
courage to punish the wrong-doer. The opposite party,
advocate and all, were men of little minds ; and so Balsamo
was set at liberty, without, however, any record of his libera-
tion being found among the proceedings, neither by whose
orders, or in what manner it was effected.
Shortly after this he left Palermo, and travelled in differ-
ent countries ; of which travels, however, the author of the
memoir had been only able to collect very imperfect informa-
tion.
The memoir ended with an acute argument to prove the
identity of Balsamo and Cagliostro, — a position which was
at this time more difficult to prove than at present, now that
the whole history of this individual has been made public.
Had I not been led to form a conjecture that a public use
would have been made in France of this essay, and that on
my return I should find it already in print, I doubt not but I
298 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
should have been permitted to take a transcript of it, and to
give my friends and the public an early account of many in-
teresting circumstances.
However, we have received the fullest account (and even
more particulars than this memoir contains) from a quarter
which usually is the source of nothing but errors. Who
would have believed that Rome would ever have done so
much for the enlightening of the world, and for the utter ex-
posure of an impostor, as she has done by publishing the
summary of the proceedings in this case ? For although this
work ought and might be much more interesting, it is, never-
theless, an excellent document in the hands of every rational
mind, who cannot but feel deep regret to see the deceived,
and those who were not more deceived than deceivers, going
on for years admiring this man and his mummeries ; feeling
themselves by fellowship with him raised above the common
mass, and from the heights of this credulous vanity pitying,
if not despising, the sound common sense of mankind in
general.
Who was not willingly silent all the while ? And even now,
at last, when the whole affair is ended and placed beyond
dispute, it is only with difficulty that I can prevail upon my-
self, in order to complete the official account, to communi-
cate some particulars which have here become known to me.
When I found in the genealogy so many persons (espe-
cially his mother and sisters) mentioned as still living, I ex-
pressed to the author of the memoir a wish to see them, and
to form the acquaintance of the other relatives of so notorious
an individual. He remarked that it would be difficult to bring
it about ; since these persons, poor but respectable, and living
very retired, were not accustomed to receive visitors, and
that their natural suspicion would be roused by any attempt
of the kind. However, he was ready to send to me his copy-
ing-clerk, who had access to the family, and by whose means
he had procured the information and documents out of which
the pedigree had been compiled.
The next day his amanuensis made his appearance, and
expressed several scruples upon the matter. " I have hith-
erto," he said, " carefully avoided coming within sight of
these persons. For in order to get into my hands the certifi-
cates of baptism and marriage, so as to be able to take legally
authenticated copies of them, I was obliged to have recourse
to a little trick. I took occasion to speak of some little
family property that was somehow or other unclaimed : made
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 299
it appear probable to them that the young Capitummino was
entitled to it ; but I told them that first of all it was neces-
sary to make out a pedigree, in order to see how far the
youth could establish his claim ; that, however, his success
must eventually depend upon the law proceedings, which I
would willingly undertake on condition of receiving for my
trouble a fair proportion of the amount recovered. The
good people readily assented to every thing. I got pos-
session of the papers I wanted, took copies of them, and
finished the pedigree : since then, however, I have cautiously
kept out of their sight. A few weeks ago old Capitummino met
me, and it was only by pleading the tardiness with which such
matters usually proceed that I managed to excuse myself."
Thus spoke the copyist. As, however, I stuck to nry pur-
pose, he, after some consideration, consented to take me to
their house, and suggested that it would be best for me to
give myself out to be an Englishman bringing the family tid-
ings of Cagliostro, who, immediately after his release from
the Bastile, had proceeded to London.
At the appointed hour, about two o'clock in the afternoon,
we set out on our expedition. The house was situated in
the corner of a narrow lane, not far from the great street,
"II Casaro." We ascended a few wretched steps, and got
at once into the kitchen. A woman of middle size, strong
and broad, without being fat, was busy washing up the cook-
ing utensils. She was neatly and cleanly clad, and, as we en-
tered, turned up the corner of her apron, in order to conceal
from us its dirty front. She seemed glad to see my guide,
and exclaimed, "Do you bring us good news, Signor Gio-
vanni ? Have you obtained a decree ? ' '
He replied, " No ! I have not as yet been able to do any
thing in our matter. However, here is a foreigner who
brings you a greeting from your brother, and who can give
you an account of his present state and abode."
The greeting that I was to bring did not exactly stand in
our bond. However, the introduction was now made. " You
know my brother?" she asked me. "All Europe knows
him," I replied ; " and I am sure you will be glad to hear
that he is at present safe and well ; for assuredly you must
have been in great anxiety about him." — " Walk in," she
said, " I will follow you immediately; " and so, with the
copying-clerk, I entered the sitting-room.
It was spacious and lofty, and would pass with us for a
saloon. It seemed, however, to form the whole dwelling of
300 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
the family. A single window lighted the large walls, which
were once colored, and on which figures of the saints, taken
in black, hung in gilt frames. Two large beds, without cur-
tains, stood against one wall ; while a brown press, which had
the shape of an escritoire, was placed against the opposite
one. Old chairs, with rush bottoms, the backs of which
seemed to have once been gilded, stood on each side of it ;
while the bricks of the floors were in many places sunk deep
below the level. In other respects, every thing was clean
and tidy ; and we made our way towards the family, who
were gathered around the only large window at the other end
of the room.
While my guide was explaining to the old widow Balsamo,
who sat in the corner, the cause of our visit, and, in conse-
quence of the deafness of the good old woman, had frequently
to repeat his words, I had time to observe the room and the
rest of its occupants. A young girl about sixteen years of
age, well grown, whose features, however, the small-pox had
robbed of all expression, was standing at the window ; by
her side a young man, whose unpleasant countenance, sadly
disfigured by the small-pox, also struck me. In an arm-
chair, opposite the window, sat, or rather reclined, a sick
and sadly deformed person, who seemed to be afflicted with
a sort of torpor.
When my guide had made himself understood, they in-
sisted on our being seated. The old woman put some ques-
tions to me ; which I required to have interpreted before I
could answer them, as I was not very familiar with the Sicil-
ian dialect.
I was pleased with the examination, which, during this
conversation, I made of the old woman. She was of mid-
dle size, but of a good figure ; over her regular features an
expression of calmness was diffused, which people usually
enjoy who are deprived of hearing ; the tone of her voice
was soft and agreeable.
I answered her questions ; and my answers had, in their
turn, to be interpreted to her.
The slowness of such a dialogue gave me an opportunity
of weighing my words. I told her that her son, having been
acquitted in France, was at present in London, where he
had been well received. The joy she expressed at this news
was accompanied with exclamations of a heartfelt piety ;
and now, as she spoke louder and more slowly, I could under-
stand her better.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 301
In the mean time her daughter had come in, and had
seated herself by the side of my guide, who faithfully re-
peated to her what I had been saying. She had tied on a
clean apron, and arranged her hair under a net. The more
I looked at and compared her with her mother, the more
surprised I was at the difference of their persons. A lively,
healthy sensibility spoke from every feature of the daughter :
she was apparently about forty years old. With her cheer-
ful blue eyes, she looked about her intelligently, without,
however, my being able to trace the least symptom of sus-
picion. As she sat, her figure seemed to promise greater
height than it showed when she stood up. Her posture be-
spoke determination : she sat with her body bent forwards,
and her hands resting on her knees. Moreover, her full,
rather than sharp profile, reminded me of the portraits of
her brother, which I had seen in engravings. She asked me
several questions about my travels ; about my purpose in
visiting Sicily ; and would persuade herself that I should
most assuredly come again, and keep with them the Festival
of St. Rosalie.
The grandmother having in the mean time put some ques-
tions to me, the daughter, while I was busy answering them,
was speaking in an undertone to my guide ; so that my
curiosity was stimulated to ask what they were talking
about. Upon this he said, Donna Capitummino was just
telling him that her brother owed her fourteen oncie. In
order to facilitate his rapid departure from Palermo, she had
redeemed some of his things which were in pawn ; but since
then she had not heard a word from him, nor received any
money, nor help of any kind, although, as she had heard,
he possessed great wealth, and kept a princely establish-
ment. Would I not engage on my return, at the first favor-
able moment to remind him of this debt, and to get him to
make them an allowance, — nay, would I not take a letter
to him, or at least frank one to him? I offered to do so.
She asked me where I lived ? and where she could send me
the letter. I avoided giving her my address, and engaged
to call for the letter on the evening of the next day.
She then recounted to me her pitiable situation. She was
a widow, with three children : one girl was being educated
in a nunnery, the other was here at home, and her son was
gone to school. Besides these three children, she had her
mother on her hands, for whose support she must provide ;
and besides all this, out of Christian love she had taken into
302 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
her house the unfortunate sick person, — and thus augmented
her miseries. All her industry scarcely sufficed to furnish
herself and children with the very barest necessaries. She
well knew that God would reward all such good works ; still,
she could not help sighing beneath the heavy burden she had
so long borne.
The young people joined in the conversation, and the
dialogue became livelier. While I was speaking to the
others, I heard the old woman ask her daughter if I belonged
to their holy religion. I was able to observe that the daugh-
ter skilfully parried the question by assuring her mother (as
well as I could make out her words) that the stranger ap-
peared well disposed towards them ; and that it was not
proper to question any one all at once on this point.
When they heard that I was soon to depart from Palermo,
they became still more urgent, and entreated me to call
again at all events : they especially praised the heavenly
day of St. Rosalie's festival, the like of which was not to be
seen or enjoyed in the world.
My guide, who for a long while had been wishing to get
away, at last by his signs put an end to our talk ; and I
promised to come on the evening of the next day, and fetch
the letter. My guide expressed his satisfaction that all had
gone off so well, and we parted, well satisfied with each other.
You may imagine what impression this poor, pious, and
well-disposed family made upon me. My curiosity was sat-
isfied ; but their natural and pleasing behavior had excited
my sympatlry, and reflection only confirmed my good will in
their favor.
But then some anxiety soon arose in my mind about to-
morrow. It was only natural that my visit, which at first
had so charmed them, would, after my departure, be talked
and thought over by them. From the pedigree, I was aware
that others of the family were still living. Nothing could
be more natural than that they should call in their friends to
consult them on all they had been so astonished to hear from
me the day before. I had gained my object, and now it
only remained for me to contrive to bring this adventure to
a favorable issue. I therefore set off the next day, and
arrived at their house just after their dinner. They were
surprised to see me so early. The letter, they told me
was not yet ready ; and some of their relatives wished to
make my acquaintance, and they would be there towards
evening.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 303
I replied that I was to depart early in the morning ; that
I had yet some visits to make, and had also to pack up ; and
that I had determined to come earlier than I had promised
rather than not come at all.
During this conversation the son entered, whom I had- not
seen the day before. In form and countenance he resem-
bled his sister. He had brought with him the letter I was
to take. As usual in these parts, it had been written by
one of the public notaries. The youth, who was of a quiet,
sad, and modest disposition, inquired about his uncle, asked
about his riches and expenditure, and added, "How could
he forget his family so long ? It would be the greatest hap-
piness to us," he continued, "if he would only come back
and help us ; " but he further asked, Ci How came he to tell
you that he had relations in Palermo? It is said that he
disowns us everywhere, and gives himself out to be of high
birth." These questions, to which my guide's want of fore-
sight had, on our first visit, given rise, I contrived to satisfy,
by making it appear possible, that, although his uncle might
have many reasons for concealing his origin from the public,
he would, nevertheless, make no secret of it to his friends
and familiar acquaintances.
His sister, who had stepped forward during this conversa-
tion, and taken courage from the presence of her brother,
and probably, also, from the absence of yesterday's friend,
began now to speak. Her manner was very pretty and
lively. She earnestly begged me, when I wrote to her uncle,
to commend her to him ; and not less earnestly, also, to
come back, when I had finished my tour through the king-
dom of Sicily, and to attend with them the festivities of
St. Rosalie.
The mother joined her voice to that of her children.
" Signor," she exclaimed, " although it does not in propriety
become me, who have a grown-up. daughter, to invite strange
men to my house, — and one ought to guard not only against
the danger itself, but even against evil tongues, — still you,
I can assure you, will be heartily welcome whenever you
return to our city."
u Yes! yes!" cried the children, " we will guide the
signor throughout the festival ; we will show him every
thing ; we will place him on the scaffolding from which you
have the best view of the festivities. How delighted will
he be with the great car, and especially with the splendid
illuminations ! "
304 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
In the mean while, the grandmother had read the letter
over and over again. When she was told that I wished to
take my leave, she rose and delivered to me the folded paper.
" Say to my son," she said, with a noble vivacity, not to
say enthusiasm, " tell my son how happy the news you have
brought me of him has made us. Say to my son that I thus
fold him to my heart ' ' (here she stretched out her arms and
again closed them over her bosom) ; "that every day in
prayer I supplicate God and our blessed Lady for him ; that
I give my blessing to him and to his wife, and that I have
no wish but, before I die, to see him once more with these
eyes, which have shed so many tears on his account. "
The peculiar elegance of the Italian favored the choice
and the noble arrangement of her words, which, moreover,
were accompanied with those very lively gestures, by which
this people usually give an incredible charm to every thing
they say. Not unmoved, I took my leaven They all held
out their hands to me : the children even accompanied me
to the door, and while I descended the steps, ran to the
balcony of the window, which opened from the kitchen into
the street, called after me, nodded their adieus, and repeat-
edly cried out to me not to forget to come again and see
them. They were still standing on the balcony, when I
turned the corner.
I need not say that the interest I took in this family ex-
cited in me the liveliest desire to be useful to them, and to
help them in their great need. Through me they were now a
second lime deceived ; and hopes of assistance, which they had
no previous expectation of, had been again raised, through
the curiosity of a son of the North, ouly to be disappointed.
My first intention was to pay them, before my departure,
those fourteen oncie which the fugitive had borrowed of them
and not repaid, and, by expressing a hope that he would repay
me, to conceal from them the fact of its being a gift from
me. When, however, I got home, casting up my accounts
and looking over my cash and bills, I found, that, in a country
where, from the want of communication, distance is infin-
itely magnified, I should perhaps place myself in a strait, if
I attempted to make amends for the dishonesty of a rogue
by an act of mere good nature.
The subsequent issue of this affair may as well be here
introduced.
I set off from Palermo, and never came back to it ; but
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 305
notwithstanding the great distance of my Sicilian and Italian
travels, my soul never lost the impression which the inter-
view with this family had left upon it.
I returned to my native land ; and the letter of the old
widow, turning up among the many other papers which had
come with it from Naples by sea, gave me occasion to speak
of this and other adventures.
Below is a translation of this letter, in which I have pur-
posely allowed the peculiarities of the original to appear.
" My Dearest Son,
" On the 16th April, 1787, I received tidings of you through Mr.
Wilton, and I cannot express to you how consoling it was to me ; for
ever since you removed from France I have been unable to hear any
tidings of you.
"My dear son, I entreat you not to forget me, for I am very
poor, and deserted by all my relations but my daughter, and your
sister Maria Giovanna, in whose house I am living. She cannot afford
to supply all my wants, but she does what she can. She is a widow,
with three children : one daughter is in the nunnery of St. Catherine,
the other two children are at home with her.
"I repeat, my dear son, my entreaty. Send me just enough to
provide for my necessities ; for I have not even the necessary articles
of clothing to discharge the duties of a Catholic, for my mantle and
outer garments are perfectly in rags.
"If you send me any thing, or even write me merely a letter, do
not send by post, but by sea; for Don Matteo, my brother (Bracconeri),
is the postmaster.
" My dear son. I entreat you to provide me with a tari a day, in
order that your sister may, in some measure, be relieved of the burthen
I am to her at present and that I may not perish from want. Remem-
ber the divine command, and help a poor mother, who is reduced to
the utmost extremity. I give you my blessing, and press to my heart
both thee and Donna Lorenza, thy wife.
" Your sister embraces you from her heart, and her children kiss
your hands.
" Your mother, who dearly loves you, and presses you to her heart.
"Felice Balsamo.
"Palermo, April 18, 1787."
Some worthy and exalted persons, before whom I laid this
document, together with the whole story, shared my emotions,
and enabled me to discharge my debt to this unhappy family,
and to remit them a sum which they received towards the
end of the year 1787. Of the effect it had, the following
letter is evidence.
"Palermo, December 25, 1787.
" Dear and faithful Brother,
"Dearest Son,
" The joy which we have had in hearing that you are in good
health and circumstances, we cannot express by any writing. By
sending them this little assistance, you have filled with the greatest
306 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
joy and delight a mother and a sister who are abandoned by all, and
have to provide for two daughters and a son. For, after that Mr. Jacob
Joff , an English merchant, had taken great pains to find out the Donna
Giuseppe Maria Capitummino (by birth Balsamo), in consequence of
my being commonly known merely as Marana Capitummino, he found
us at last in a little tenoment, where we live on a corresponding scale.
He informed us that you had ordered a sum of money to be paid us,
and that he had a receipt, which I, your sister, must sign, — which was
accordingly done ; for he immediately put the money in our hands,
and the favorable rate of the exchange has brought us a little further
gain.
"Now, think with what delight we must have received this sum,
at a time when Christmas Day was just at hand, and we had no hope
of being helped to spend it with its usual festivity.
"The Incarnate Saviour has moved your heart to send us this
money, which has served not only to appease our hunger, but actually
to clothe us, when we were in want of every thing.
"It would give us the greatest gratification possible if you would
gratify our wish to see you once more, — especially mine, your mother,
who never cease to bewail my separation from an only son, whom I
would much wish to see again before I die.
" But if, owing to circumstances, this cannot be, still do not neglect
to come to the aid of my misery, especially as you have discovered so
excellent a channel of communication, and so honest and exact a
merchant, who, when we knew nothing about it, and when he had
the money entirely in his own power, has honestly sought us out and
faithfully paid over to us the sum you remitted.
"With you that perhaps will not signify much. To us, however,
every help is a treasure. Your sister has two grown up daughters, and
her son also requires a little help. You know that she has nothing in
the world ; and what a good act you will perform by sending her
enough to furnish them all with a suitable outfit.
"May God preserve you in health! We invoke him in gratitude,
and pray that he may still continue the prosperity you have hitherto
enjoyed, and that he may move your heart to keep us in remem-
brance. In his name I bless you and your wife, as a most affectionate
mother, — and I, your sister, embrace you; and so does your nephew,
Giuseppe (Bracconeri), who wrote this letter. We all pray for your
prosperity, as do also my two sisters, Antonia and Theresa.
" We embrace you, and are,
" Your sister, who loves you,
" Giuseppe-Maria, Capitummino, and Balsamo.
" Your mother, who loves and blesses you,
who blesses you every hour,
" Felice Balsamo, and Bracconeri. "
The signatures appended to the letter are in their own
handwriting.
I had caused the money to be paid to them without send-
ing any letter, or intimation whence it came. This makes
their mistake the more natural, and their future hopes the
more probable.
Now, that they have been informed of the arrest and im-
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 307
prisonment of their relative, I feel at liberty to explain mat-
ters to them, and to do something for their consolation. I
have still a small sum for them in my hands, which I shall
remit to them, and profit by the opportunity to explain the
true state of the matter. Should any of my friends, should
any of my rich and noble countrymen, be disposed to enlarge,
by their contributions, the sum I have already in my hands,
I would exhort them in that case to forward their kind arifts
to me before Michaelmas Day, in order to share the gratitude,
and to be rewarded with the happiness, of a deserving family,
out of which has proceeded one of the most singular monsters
that has appeared in this century.
I shall not fail to make known the further course of this
story, and to give an account of the state in which my next
remittance finds the family ; and perhaps, also, I shall add
some remarks which this matter induced me to make, which,
however, I withhold at present, in order not to disturb my
reader's first impressions.
Palermo,
Sunday, April 15, 1787.
Towards evening I paid a visit to n^ friend the shopkeeper,
to ask him how he thought the festival was likely to pass off ;
for to-morrow there is to be a solemn procession through the
city, and the viceroy is to accompany the host on foot. The
least wind will envelop both man and the sacred symbols in
a thick cloud of dust.
With much humor he replied, " In Palermo, the people look
for nothing more confidently than for a miracle. ' Often
before now, on such occasions, a violent passing shower had
fallen and cleansed the streets, partially at least, so as to
make a clean road for the procession. On this occasion a
similar hope was entertained, and not without cause, for the
sky was overcast, and promised rain during the night.
Palermo,
Sunday, April 15, 1787.
And so it has actually turned out ! During the night the
most violent shower has fallen. In the morning I set out
very early in order to be an eye-witness of the marvel. The
stream of rain-water pent up between the two raised pave-
ments, had carried the lightest of the rubbish down the
inclined street, either into the sea or into such of the sewers
as were not stopped up, while the grosser and heavier dung
308 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
was driven from spot to spot. In this a singular meander-
ing line of cleanliness was marked out along the streets. On
the morning, hundreds and hundreds of men were to be seen
with brooms and shovels, busily enlarging this clear space,
and in order to connect it where it was interrupted by the
mire ; and throwing the still remaining impurities now to this
side, now to that. By this means when the procession started,
it found a clear serpentine walk prepared for it through the
mud, and so both the long-robed priests and the neat-booted
nobles, with the viceroy at their head, were able to proceed
on their way unhindered and unsplashed.
I thought of the children of Israel passing through the
waters on the dry path prepared for them by the hand of the
angel ; and this remembrance served to ennoble what other-
wise would La\e been a revolting sight, — to see these devout
and noble peers parading their devotions along an alley
flanked on each side by heaps of mud.
On the pavement there was now, as always, clean walking ;
but in the more retired parts of the city, whither we were this
day carried in pursuance of our intention of visiting the
quarters we had hitherto neglected, it was almost impossible
to get along, although even here the sweeping and piling of
the filth was by no means neglected.
The festival gave occasion to our visiting the principal
church of the city and observing its curiosities. Being once
on the move, we took a round of all the other public edifices.
We were much pleased with a Moorish building, which is in
excellent preservation, — not very large, but the rooms beau-
tiful, broad, and well proportioned, and in excellent keeping
with the whole pile. It is not perhaps suited for a northern
climate, but in a southern land a most agreeable residence.
Architects may perhaps some day furnish us with a plan and
elevation of it.
We also saw, in most unsuitable situations, various remains
of ancient marble statues, which, however, we had not
patience to decipher.
Palermo, April 16, 1787.
As we are obliged to anticipate our speedy departure from
this paradise, I hoped to-day to spend a thorough holiday by
sitting in the public gardens, and, after studying the task I
had set myself out of the Odyssey, taking a walk through
the valley, and at the foot of the hill of St. Rosalie, meditat-
ing still further on my sketch of Nausicaa, and there trying
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 309
whether this subject is susceptible of a dramatic form. All
this I have managed, if not with perfect success, yet cer-
tainly much to my satisfaction. I made out the plan, and
could not abstain from sketching some portions of it which
appeared to me most interesting, and tried to work them out.
Palermo,
Tuesday, April 17, 1787.
It is downright misery to be pursued and hunted by many
spirits ! Yesterday I set out early for the public gardens,
with a firm and calm resolve to realize some of my poetical
dreams ; but before I got within sight of them, another
spectre which has been following me these last few days got
hold of me. Many plants which hitherto I had been used to
see only in pots and tubs, or under glass frames, stand here,
fresh and joyous, beneath the open sky ; and, as they here
completely fulfil their destination, their natures and charac-
ters became more plain and evident to me. In presence of
so many new and renovated forms, my old fancy occurred to
me again : Might not I discover the primordial plant among
all these numerous specimens? Some such there must be!
For, otherwise, how am I able at once to determine that this
or that form is a plant, unless they are all formed after one
original t}pe? I busied myself, therefore, with examining
wherein the many varying shapes differed from each other.
And in every case I found them all to be more similar than
dissimilar, and attempted to apply my botanical terminology.
That went on well enough : still, I was not satisfied, but felt
annoyed that it did not lead farther. My pet poetical pur-
pose was obstructed : the gardens of Antinous all vanished,
— a real garden of the world had taken their place. Why
is it that we moderns have so little concentration of mind ?
Why is it that we are thus tempted to make requisitions
which we can neither exact nor fulfil?
Alcamo,
Wednesday, April 18, 1787.
At an early hour we rode out of Palermo. Kniep and the
vetturino showed their skill in packing the carriage inside
and out. We drove slowly along the excellent road, with
which we had previously become acquainted during our visit
to San Martino, and once more admired one of the magnifi-
cent fountains on the way. At one of these our driver
stopped to supply himself with water, according to the tern-
310 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
perate habits of this country. He had, at starting, hung to
the traces a small wine-cask, such as our market-women use ;
and it seemed to us to hold wine enough for several days.
We were, therefore, not a little surprised when he made for
one of the many conduit-pipes, took the plug out of his cask,
and let the water run into it. With true German amazement,
we asked him what he was about? was not the cask full of
wine? To all which he replied with great coolness, he had
left a third of it empty ; and as no one in this country drank
unmixed wine, it was better to mix it at once in a large
quantity, as then the liquids combined better ; and, besides,
you were not sure of finding water everywhere. During this
conversation the cask was filled, and we had to put up with
this ancient and Oriental wedding custom.
And now as we reached the heights beyond Mon Reale,
we saw wonderfully beautiful districts, but tilled in tradi-
tional, rather than in a true economical style. On the right,
the eye reached the sea, where, between singular-shaped
headlands, and beyond a shore here covered with, and there
destitute of, trees, it caught a smooth and level horizon, per-
fectly calm, and forming a glorious contrast with the wild
and rugged limestone rocks. Kniep did not fail to make
miniature outlines of several of them.
We are at present in Alcamo, a quiet and clean little
town, whose well-conducted inn is highly to be commended
as an excellent establishment, especially as it is most con-
veniently situated for those who come to see the temple of
Segeste, which has a very lonely situation, out of the direct
road.
Alcamo,
Thursday, April 19, 1787.
Our agreeable dwelling in this quiet town among the
mountains has so charmed us that we have determined to
pass a whole day here. We may then, before any thing else,
speak of our yesterday's adventures. In one of my earlier
letters, I questioned the originality of Prince Pallagonia's
bad taste. He has had forerunners, and can adduce many a
precedent. On the road towards Mon Reale stand two mon-
strosities, beside a fountain with some vases on a balustrade,
so utterly repugnant to good taste that one would suppose
they must have been placed there by the prince himself.
After passing Mon Reale, we left behind us the beautiful
road, and got into the rugged mountain country. Here some
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 311
rocks appeared on the crown of the road, which, judging
from their gravity and metallic incrustations, I took to be
ironstone. Every level spot is cultivated, and is more or less
prolific. The limestone in these parts had a reddish hue,
and all the pulverized earth is of the same color. This red
argillaceous and calcareous earth extends over a great space.
The subsoil is hard, no sand underneath ; but it produces ex-
cellent wheat. We noticed old, very strong, but stumpy
olive-trees.
Under the shelter of an airy room, which has been built
as an addition to the wretched inn, we refreshed ourselves
with a temperate luncheon. Dogs eagerly gobbled up the
skins of our sausages, but a beggar-boy drove them off. He
was feasting with a wonderful appetite on the parings of the
apples we were eating, when he in his turn was driven away
by an old beggar. Want of work is here felt everywhere.
In a ragged toga, the old beggar was glad to get a job as
house-servant or waiter. Thus I had formerly observed that
whenever a landlord was asked for any thing which he had
not at the moment in the house, he would send a beggar to
the shop for it.
However, we are pretty well provided against all such
sorry attendance : for our vetturino is an excellent fellow ;
he is ready as ostler, cicerone, guard, courier, cook, and
every thing.
On the higher hills you find everywhere the olive, the
caruba, and the ash. Their system of farming is also spread
over three years, — beans, corn, fallow, — in which mode of
culture the people say the dung does more marvels than all
the saints. The grape-stock is kept down very low.
Alcamo is gloriously situated on a height, at a tolerable
distance from a bay of the sea. The magnificence of the
country quite enchanted us. Lofty rocks, with deep valleys
at their feet, but withal wide open spaces, and great variety.
Beyond Mon Reale you look upon a beautiful double valley,
in the centre of which a hilly ridge again raises itself. The
fruitful fields lie green and quiet : but on the broad roadway
the wild bushes and shrubs are brilliant with flowers, — the
broom, one mass of yellow, covered with its papilionaceous
blossoms, and not a single green leaf to be seen ; the white-
thorn, cluster on cluster ; the aloes are rising high, and prom-
ising to flower ; a rich tapestry of an amaranthine-red clover,
of orchids, and the little Alpine roses ; hyacinths, with un-
opened bells ; asphodels, and other wild flowers.
312 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
The streams which descend from Mount Segeste leave de-
posits, not only of limestone, but also of pebbles of hornstone.
They are very compact, dark blue, yellow, red, and brown,
of various shades. I also found complete loads of horn, or
firestone, in the limestone rocks, edged with lime. Of such
gravel one finds whole hills just before one gets to Alcamo.
Segeste, April 20, 1787.
The temple of Segeste was never finished. The ground
around it was never even levelled, the space only being
smoothed on which the peristyle was to stand. For, in
several places, the steps are from nine to ten feet in the
ground; and there is no hill near, from which the stone or
mould could have fallen. Besides, the stones lie in their
natural position, and no ruins are found near them.
The columns are all standing : two which had fallen, have
very recently been raised again. How far the columns rested
on a socle is hard to say ; and, without an engraving, it is dif-
ficult to give an idea of their present state. At some points
it would seem as if the pillars rested on the fourth step. In
that case, to enter the temple you would have to go down a
step. In other places, however, the uppermost step is cut
through, and then it looks as if the columns had rested on
bases ; and then again these spaces have been filled up, and
so we have once more the first case. An architect is neces-
sary to determine this point.
The sides have twelve columns, not reckoning the corner
ones ; the back and front six, including them. The rollers
on which the stones were moved along, still lie around you on
the steps. They have been left, in order to indicate that the
temple was unfinished. But the strongest evidence of this
fact is the floor. In some spots (along the sides) the pave-
ment is laid down. In the middle, however, the red lime-
stone rock still projects higher than the level of the floor as
partially laid : the flooring, therefore, cannot ever have been
finished. Nor is there a trace of an inner temple. Still
less can the temple have ever been overlaid with stucco ; but
that it was intended to do so, we may infer from the fact
that the abaci of the capitals have projecting points, probably
for the purpose of holding the plaster. The whole is built
of a limestone, very similar to the travertine ; only it is now
much fretted. The restoration which was carried on in 1781
has done much good to the building. The cutting of the
stone with which the parts have been reconnected, is simple,
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 313
but beautiful. The large blocks standing by themselves,
which are mentioned by Riedesel, I could not find : probably
they were used for the restoration of the columns.
The site of the temple is singular. At the highest end of
a broad and long valley, it stands on an isolated hill : sur-
rounded, however, on all sides by cliffs, it commands a very
distant and extensive view of the land, but it takes in only
just a corner of the sea. The district reposes in a sort of
melancholy fertility, — everywhere well cultivated, but scarce
a dwelling to be seen. Flowering thistles were swarming
with countless butterflies ; wild fennel stood here from eight
to nine feet high, dry and withered, of the last year's growth,
but so rich, and in such seeming order, that one might almost
take it to be an old nursery-ground ; a shrill wind whistled
through the columns as if through a wood ; and screaming
birds of prey hovered around the pediments.
The wearisomeness of winding through the insignificant
ruins of a theatre took away from us all the pleasures we
might otherwise have had in visiting the remains of the an-
cient city. At the foot of the temple, we found large pieces
of the hornstone. Indeed, the road to Alcamo is composed
of vast quantities of pebbles of the same formation. From
the road a portion of a gravelly earth passes into the soil, by
which means it is rendered looser. In some fennel of this
year's growth, I observed the difference of the lower and
upper leaves : it is still the same organization that develops
multiplicity out of unity. They are most industrious weed-
ers in these parts. Just as beaters go through a wood for
game, so here they go through the fields weeding. I have
actually seen some insects here. In Palermo, however, I
saw nothing but worms, lizards, leeches, and snakes, though
not more finely colored than with us : indeed, they are mostly
all gray.
Castel Vetrano,
Saturday, April 21, 1787.
From Alcamo to Castel Vetrano you come on the lime-
stone, after crossing some hills of gravel. Between precipi-
tous and barren limestone mountains, lie wide, undulating
valleys, everywhere tilled, with scarcely a tree to be seen.
The gravelly hills are full of large bowlders, giving signs of
ancient inundations of the sea. The soil is better mixed, and
lighter, than any we have hitherto seen, in consequence of its
containing some sand. Leaving Salemi about fifteen miles
314 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
to our right, we came upon hills of gypsum, lying on the
limestone. The soil appears, as we proceed, to be better
and more richly compounded. In the distance you catch a
peep of the Western sea. In the foreground the country is
everywhere hilly. We found the fig-trees just budding ; but
what most excited our delight and wonder were endless
masses of flowers, which had encroached on the broad road,
and flourish in large, variegated patches. Closely bordering
on each other, the several sorts, nevertheless, keep them-
selves apart, and recur at regular intervals, — the most beau-
tiful convolvuluses, hibiscuses, and mallows, various kinds
of trefoil, here and there the garlic, and the galega-ges-
trauche. On horseback you may ride through this varied
tapestry by following the numberless and ever-crossing nar-
row paths which run through it. Here and there you see,
feeding, fine red-brown cattle, very clean-limbed, and with
short horns of an extremely elegant form.
The mountains to the north-east stand all in a line. A
single peak, Cuniglione, rises boldly from the midst of them.
The gravelly hills have but few streams : very little rain
seems to fall here ; we did not find a single gully giving evi-
dence of having ever overflowed.
In the night I met with a singular incident. Quite worn
out, we had thrown ourselves on our beds in any thing but a
very elegant room. In the middle of the night I saw above
me a most agreeable phenomenon, — a star, brighter, I think,
than I ever saw one before. Just, however, as I began to
take courage at a sight which was of good omen, my patron
star suddenly disappeared, and left me in darkness again.
At daybreak I at last discovered the cause of the marvel :
there was a hole in the roof, and at the moment of my vision
one of the brightest stars must have been crossing my meri-
dian. This purely natural phenomenon was, however, inter-
preted by us travellers as highly favorable.
Sciacca, April 22, 1787.
The road hither, which runs over nothing but gravelly hills,
has been mineralogically uninteresting. The traveller here
reaches the shore, from which, at different points, bold lime-
stone rocks rise suddenly. All the flat land is extremely fer-
tile ; barley and oats in the finest condition. The salsola-kali
Is here cultivated. The aloes, since yesterday and the day
before, have shot forth their tall spikes. The same nu-
merous varieties of the trefoil still attended us. At last we
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 315
came on a little wood, thick with brushwood, the tall trees
standing very wide apart ; and, lastly, the cork-tree.
Evening.
Girgenti, April 23, 1787.
From Sciacca to this place is a hard day's ride. We ex-
amined the baths at the last-named place. A hot stream
burst from the rock with a strong smell of sulphur : the water
had a strong saline flavor, but it was not at all thick. May
not this sulphureous exhalation be formed at the moment of
its breaking from the rock? A little higher is a spring, quite
cool and without smell. Right above is the monastery, where
are the vapor baths : a thick mist rises above it into the pure
air.
The shingles on the shore are nothing but limestone : the
quartz and hornstone have wholly disappeared. I have ex-
amined all the little streams : the Calta Bellota, and the
Maccasoli, carry down with them nothing but limestone ; the
Platani, a yellow marble and flint, the invariable companion
of this nobler calcareous formation. A few pieces of lava
excited my attentiou, but I saw nothing in this country that
indicated the presence of volcanic action. I supposed, there-
fore, they must be fragments of millstones, or of pieces
brought from a distance for some such use. Near Monte
Allegro, the stone is all gypsum and selenite, — whole rocks
of these occurring before and between the limestone. The
wonderful strata of Bellota !
GlRGENTI,
Tuesday, April 24, 1787.
Such a glorious spring view as we enjoyed at sunset to-
day will most assuredly never meet our eyes again in one
lifetime. Modern Girgenti stands on the lofty site of the
ancient fortifications, an extent sufficient for the present
population. From our window, we looked over the broad but
gentle declivity on which stood the ancient town, which is
now entirely covered with gardens and vineyards, beneath
whose verdure it would be long before one thought of look-
ing for the quarters of an ancient city. However, towards
the southern end of this green and flourishing spot the
Temple of Concord rears itself, while on the east are a few
remains of the Temple of Juno. Other ruins of some ancient
buildings, which, lying in a straight line with those already
spoken of, are scarcely noticed by the eye from above, while
316 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
it hurries over them southwards to the shore, or rauges over
the level country, which reaches at least seven miles from
the sea-mark. To-day we were obliged to deny ourselves the
pleasure of a stroll among the trees and wild rockets, and
over this expanse, so green, so flourishing, and so full of
promise for the husbandman, because our guide (a good-na-
tured little parish priest) begged of us above all things to
devote this day to the town.
He first showed us the well-built streets ; then he took us
to the higher points, from which the view, gaining both in
extent and breadth, was still more glorious ; and lastly, for
an artistic treat, conducted us to the principal church. In it
there is an ancient sarcophagus in good preservation ; the
fact of its being used for the altar has rescued it from de-
struction : Hippolytus, attended by his hunting companions
and horses, has just been stopped bj- Phaedra's nurse, who
wishes to deliver a letter to him. As in this piece the princi-
pal object was to exhibit beautiful youthful forms, the old
woman, as a mere subordinate personage, is represented very
short and dwarfish, in order not to disturb the intended
effect. Of all the alto-relievos I have ever seen, I do not,
I think, remember one more glorious, and at the same time
so well preserved, as this. Until I meet with a better, it
must pass with me as a specimen of the most graceful
period of Grecian art.
We were carried back to still earlier periods of art by the
examination of a costly vase, of considerable size, and in
excellent condition. Moreover, many relics of ancient archi-
tecture appeared worked up here and there in the walls of
the modern church.
As there is no inn or hotel in this place, a kind and wor-
thy family made room for us, and gave up for our accom-
modation an alcove belonging to a large room. A green
curtain separated us and our baggage from the members of
the family, who, in the more spacious apartment, were em-
ployed in preparing macaroni of the whitest and smallest
kind. I sat down by the side of the pretty children, and
had the whole process explained to me, and was informed
that it is prepared from the finest and hardest wheat, called
Grano forte. That sort, the}' also told me, fetches the highest
price, which, after being formed into long pipes, is twisted
into coils, and, by the tip of the fair artiste's fingers, made
to assume a serpentine shape. The preparation is chiefly
by the hand •. machines and moulds are very little used,
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 317
They also prepared for us a dish of the most excellent
macaroni, regretting, however, that at that moment they
had not even a single dish of the very best kind, which
could not be made out of Girgenti, nor indeed, out of their
house. What they did dress for me appeared to me to be
unequalled in whiteness and tenderness.
By leading us once more to the heights and to the most
glorious points of view, our guide contrived to appease the
restlessness which during the evening kept us constantly
out of doors. As we took a survey of the whole neighbor-
hood, he pointed out all the remarkable objects which on
the morrow we had proposed to examine more nearly.
Girgenti,
Wednesday, April 25, 1787.
With sunrise we took our way towards the plain, while
at every step the surrounding scenery assumed a still more
picturesque appearance. With the consciousness that it was
for our advantage, the little man led us, without stopping,
right across the rich vegetation, over a thousand little spots,
each of which might have furnished the locale for an idyllic
scene. This variety of scene is greatly due to the uneven-
ness of the country, undulating as it passes over hidden
ruins, which probably were very quickly covered with fertile
soil, as the ancient buildings consisted of a light muschel-
tufa. At last we arrived at the eastern end of the city,
where are the ruins of the Temple of Juno, of which every
year must have accelerated the decay, as the air and weather
are constantly fretting the soft stone of which it is built.
To-day we only devoted a cursory examination to it, but
Kniep has already chosen the points from which to sketch
it to -morrow. The temple stands on a rock which is now
much worn by the weather. From this point the city walls
stretched in a straight line, eastwards, to a bed of limestone,
that rises perpendicular from the level strand, which the sea
has abandoned, after having shaped these rocks and long
washed the foot of them. Hewn partly out of the native
rock, and partly built of it, were the walls of ancient Agri-
gentum, from behind which towered a line of temples. No
wonder, then, if from the sea the lower, middle, and upper
towns presented together a most striking aspect.
The Temple of Concord has withstood so many centuries.
Its light style of architecture closely approximates it to our
present standard of the beautiful and tasteful ; so that as
318 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
compared with that of Paestum, it is, as it were, the shape
of a god to that of a gigantic figure. I will not give utter-
ance to my regrets that the recent praiseworthy design of
restoring this monument should have been so tastelessly
carried out, that the gaps and defects are actually filled up
with a dazzling white gypsum. Consequently, this monu-
ment of ancient art stands before the eye, in a certain sense,
dilapidated and disfigured. How easy it would have been
to give the gypsum the same tint as the weather-eaten stone
of the rest of the building ! In truth, when one looks at
the muschelkalk of which the walls and columns are com-
posed, and sees how easily it crumbles away, his only sur-
prise is that they have lasted so long. But the builders,
reckoning on a posterity similar to themselves, had taken
precautions against it. One observes on the pillars the re-
mains of a fine plaster, which would at once please the
eye and insure durability.
Our next halt was at the ruins of the Temple of Jupiter.
Like the bones of a gigantic skeleton, they are scattered
over a large space, having several small cottages inter-
spersed among them, and being intersected by hedgerows,
while amidst them are growing plants of different sizes.
From this pile of ruins all the carved stone has disap-
peared, except an enormous triglyph, and a part of a round
pilaster of corresponding proportions. I attempted to span
it with outstretched arms, but could not reach round it. Of
the fluting of the column, however, some idea may be formed
from the fact, that, standing in it as in a niche, I just filled
it up and touched it on both sides with my shoulders. Two
and twenty men arranged in a circle would give nearly the
circumference of such a column. We went away with the
disagreeable feeling that there was nothing here to tempt
the draughtsman.
On the other hand, the Temple of Hercules still showed
some traces of its former symmetry. The pillars of the
peristyles, which ran along the temple on its upper and lower
side, lie parallel, as if they had all fallen together, and at
once, from north to south, — the one row lying up the hill,
the other down it. The hill may possibly have been formed
by the ruined cells or shrines. The columns, probably held
together by the architrave, fell all at once, being suddenly
thrown down, perhaps by a violent wind, and lie in regular
order, only broken into the pieces of which they were origin-
ally composed. Kniep was already, in imagination, pre-
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 319
paring his pencil for an accurate sketch of this singular
phenomenon.
The Temple of iEsculapius, lying beneath the shade of a
most beautiful carob-tree, and closely built upon by some
mean farm-buildings, presented to our minds a most agree-
able aspect.
Next we went down to Theron's Tomb, and were delighted
with the actual sight of this monument, of which we had
seen so many models, especially as it served for the fore-
ground of a most rare prospect ; for, from west to east, we
looked on the line of rocks on which lay the fragments of
the walls, while through the gaps of the latter, and over
them, the remains of the temples were visible.
This view has, under Hackert's skilful hand, furnished a
most delightful picture. Here, too, Kniep will not omit to
make a sketch.
Girgenti, April 26, 1787.
When I awoke, Kniep was all ready to start on his artistic
journey, with a boy to show him the way, and to carry his
portfolio. I enjoyed this most glorious morning at the win-
dow, with my secret and silent, but not dumb, friend by my
side. A devout reverence has hitherto kept me from men*
tioning the name of the mentor whom, from time to time,
I have looked up and listened to. It is the excellent Von
Riedesel, whose little volume I carry about with me in my
bosom, like a breviary or talisman. At all times I have
had great pleasure in looking up to those whom I know to
be possessed of what I am most wanting in myself. And
this is exactly the case here. A steady purpose, a fixed
object, direct and appropriate means, due preparation and
store of knowledge, an intimate connection with a masterly
teacher, — he studied under Winckelmann, — of all these
advantages I am devoid, as well as of all that follows from
them. And yet I cannot feel angry with myself that I am
obliged to gain by indirect arts and means, and to seize at once,
what my previous existence had refused to grant me gradu-
ally in the ordinary way. Oh that this worthy person could,
at this moment, in the midst of his bustling world, be sensi-
ble of the gratitude with which one, travelling in his foot-
steps, celebrates his merits, in that beautiful but solitary
spot which had so many charms for him as to induce the
wish that he might end his days there !
Oblitusque suorum obliviscendus et illis.
320 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
With my guide, the little parson, I now retraced our yes-
terday's walk, observing the objects from several points, and
every now and then taking a peep at my industrious friend.
My guide called my attention to a beautiful institution
of the once flourishing city. In the rocks and masses of
masonry which served as bulwarks to ancient Agrigentum,
are found graves, probably intended for the resting-place of
the brave and good. Where could they more fitly have been
buried, for the sake of their own glory, or for perpetuating a
vivid emulation of their great and good deeds !
In the space between the walls and the sea there are still
standing the remains of an ancient temple, which are pre-
served as a Christian chapel. Here, also, are found round
pilasters, worked up with, and beautifully united to, the
square blocks of the wall, so as to produce an agreeable
effect to the eye. One fancies that one here discerns the
very spot where the Doric style reached its perfection.
Many an insignificant monument of antiquity was curso-
rily glanced at ; but more attention was paid to the modern
way of keeping the corn under the earth in great vaulted
chambers. Of the civil and ecclesiastical condition of the
city, my guide gave me much information ; but I heard of
nothing that showed any signs of improvement. The con-
versation suited well with the ruins, which the elements are
still preying upon.
The strata of the muschelkalk all incline towards the sea,
— banks of rock strangely eaten away from beneath and
behind, while the upper and front portions still remain, look-
ing like pendent fringes.
Great hatred is here felt against the French, because they
have made peace with the people of Barbary. They are even
charged with betraying the Christians to the infidels.
From the sea there was an ancient gateway, which was
cut through the solid rock. The foundation of the walls,
which are still standing, rests as it were on steps in the
rocks.
Our cicerone is Don Michaele Vella, antiquary, residing at
the house of Signore Cerio, near St. Maria's.
In the planting of marsh-beans they proceed in the follow-
ing way : Holes are made in the earth at a convenient dis-
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 321
tance from each other, and a handful of dung is thrown in.
They then wait for rain, after which they put in the seed.
The people here burn the bean-haulms, and wash their linen
with the ashes. They never make use of soap. The outer
shells of almonds are likewise burnt, and used instead of
soda. They first of all wash the clothes with pure water,
and then with the lye of these ashes.
The succession of their crops is, beans, wheat, and tume-
nia. By beans I mean the marsh-bean. Their wheat is
wonderfully fine. Tumenia, of which the name is derived
from bimenia, or trimenia, is a glorious gift of Ceres. It is
a species of spring wheat, which is matured within three
months. It is sown at different times, from the first of Jan-
uary to June, so that for a certain period there is always a
crop ripe. It requires neither much rain nor great warmth.
At first it has a very delicate leaf, but in its growth it soon
overtakes the wheat, and at last is very strong. Wheat is
sown in October and November, and ripens in June. The
barley sown in November is ripe by the first of June. Near
the coast it ripens sooner, but on the mountains more slowly.
The flax is already ripe. The acanthus has unrolled its
splendid leaves. The Salsala fruticosa is growing luxuri-
antly.
On the uncultivated hills grows a rich sanfoin. It is
farmed out, and then carried into the town in small bundles.
In the same way, the oats which are weeded out of the wheat
are done up for sale.
For the sake of irrigation, they make very pretty divisions
with edgings, in the plots where they plant their cabbages.
The figs have put forth all their leaves, and the fruit is
set. They are generally ripe by midsummer, when the tree
sets its fruit again. The almond-trees are well loaded : a
sheltered carob-tree has produced numberless pods. The
grapes for the table are trained on arbors supported b} T high
props. Melons set in March, and ripen by June. Among
the ruins of Jupiter's temple they thrive vigorously without a
trace of moisture.
Our vetturino eats with great zest raw artichokes and the
turnip-cabbage. However, it is necessary to add, that they
are more tender and more delicate than with us. When you
walk through the fields the farmers allow you to take as
man} r of the young beans, or other crops, as you like.
322 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
As my attention was caught by some hard, black stones,
which looked like lava, my antiquary observed that they
were from iEtna ; and that at the harbor, or rather landing-
place, many similar ones were to be found.
Of birds there are not many kinds native here : quails are
the most common. The birds of passage are, nightingales,
larks, and swallows. The rinnine — small black birds,
which come from the Levant — hatch their young in Sicily,
and then go farther or retire. The ridene come in Decem-
ber or January, and after alighting, and resting a while on
Acragas, take their flight towards the mountains.
Of the vase in the cathedral one word more. The figures
upon it are, a hero in full armor, seemingly a stranger, be-
fore an old man whom a crown and sceptre point out to be a
king. Behind the latter stands a female figure, with her
head slightly inclined, and her hand under her chin, — a pos-
ture indicating thoughtful attention. Right opposite to her,
and behind the hero, is an old man who also wears a crown,
and is speaking to a man armed with a spear, probably one
of the body-guard of the former royal personage. This old
man would appear to have introduced the hero, and to be
saying to the guard, " Just let him speak to the king : he is
a brave man."
Red seems to be the ground of the vase, the black to be
laid on. It is only in the female's robe that red seems to be
laid on the black.
GlRGENTI,
Friday, April 27, 1787.
If Kniep is to finish all he proposes, he must sketch away
incessantly. In the mean time I walk about with my little
antiquary. We took a walk towards the sea, from which
Agrigentum must, as the ancients asserted, have looked ex-
tremely well. Our view was turned to the billowy expanse ;
and my guide called my attention to a broad streak of clouds,
towards the south, which, like a ridge of hills, seemed to rest
on the line of the horizon. "This," he said, "indicated
the coast of Africa." About the same time another phe-
nomenon struck me as singular. It was a rainbow, in a light
cloud, which, resting with one limb on Sicily, threw its arch
high against the clear sky, and appeared to rest with the
other on the sea. Beautifully tinted by the setting sun, and
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 323
showing but little movement, it was to the eye an object as
rare as it was agreeable. This bow, I was assured, was ex-
actly in the direction of Malta ; and perhaps its other limb
rested on that island. The phenomenon, I was told, was of
common occurrence. It would be singular if the attractive
force of these two islands should thus manifest itself even in
the atmosphere.
This conversation excited again the question I had so
often asked myself : whether I ought to give up all idea of
visiting Malta. The difficulties and dangers, however,
which had been already well considered, remained the same ;
and we, therefore, resolved to engage our vetturino to take
us to Messina.
But, in the mean time, a strange and peculiar whim was to
determine our future movements. For instance, in my
travels through Sicily, I had as yet seen but few districts
rich in corn : moreover, the horizon had everywhere been
confined by nearer or remoter lines of hills, so that the island
appeared to be utterly devoid of level plains, and I found it
impossible to conceive why Ceres had so highly favored this
island. As I sought for information on this point, I was
answered, that, in order to see this, I ought, instead of going
to Syracuse, to travel across the island, in which case I should
see cornfields in abundance. We followed this temptation
of giving up Syracuse, especially as I was well aware that of
this once glorious city scarcely any thing but its splendid
name remained. And, at any rate, it was easy to visit it
from Catania.
Caltanisetta,
Saturday, April 28, 1787.
At last we are able to understand how Sicily gained the
honorable title of the Granary of Italy. Shortly after leav-
ing Girgenti, the fertile district commenced. It does not
consist of a single great plain, but of the sides of mountains
and hills, gently inclined towards each other, everywhere
planted with wheat or barley, which present to the eye an
unbroken mass of vegetation. Every spot of earth suited to
these crops is so put to use and so jealously looked after,
that not a tree is anywhere to be seen. Indeed, the little
villages and farm-houses all lie on the ridges of the hills,
where a row of limestone rocks (which often appear on
the surface) renders the ground unfit for tillage. Here the
women reside throughout the year, busily employed in spin-
Goethe— K Vol 4
324 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
ning and weaving ; but the men, while the work in the fields
is going on, spend only Saturday and Sunday at home, stay-
ing away at their work during the other days, and spending
their nights under temporary straw sheds.
And so our wish was gratified — even to satiety. We almost
wished for the winged car of Triptolemus to escape from the
monotony of the scene.
After a long drive under the hot sun, through this wilder-
ness of fertility, we were glad enough when, at last, we
reached the well-situated and well-built Caltanisetta ; where,
however, we had again to look in vain for a tolerable inn.
The mules are housed in fine vaulted stables ; the grooms
sleep on the heaps of clover which are intended for the
animals' food ; but the stranger has to look out for and to
prepare his own lodging. If, by chance, he can hire a room,
it has first of all to be swept out and cleaned. Stools or
chairs, there are none ; the only seats to be had are low Yttle
forms of hard wood ; tables are not to be thought of.
If you wish to convert these forms into a bedstead, you
must send to a joiner, and hire as many planks as you want.
The large leathern bag, which Hackert lent me, was of good
use now, and was, by way of anticipation, filled with cut
straw.
But, above all things, provision must be made for your
meals. On our road we had bought a fowl : our vetturino
ran off to purchase some rice, salt, and spice. As, however,
he had never been here before, he was for a long time in a
perplexity for a place to cook our meal in, as in the post-house
itself there was no possibility of doing it. At last an old
man of the town agreed for a fair recompense to provide us
with a hearth, together with fuel, and cooking and table
utensils. While our dinner was cooking, he undertook to
guide ns round the town, and finally to the market-house,
where the principal inhabitants, after the ancient fashion,
met to talk together, and also to hear what we or other
strangers might say.
We were obliged to talk to them of Frederick the Second ;
and their interest in this great king was such that we thought
it advisable to keep back the fact of his death, lest our being
the bearers of such untoward news should render us unwel-
come to our hosts.
Geology by way of an appendix ! From Girgenti, the mus-
chelkalk rocks. There also appeared a streak of whitish earth,
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 325
which afterwards we accounted for. The older limestone
formation again occurs, with gypsum lying immediately upon
it. Broad flat valleys, cultivated almost up to the top of the
hillside and often quite over it, the older limestone mixed
with crumbled gypsum. After this appears a looser, yellow-
ish, easily crumbling, limestone : in the arable fields you dis-
tinctly recognize its color, which often passes into darker,
indeed occasionally violet, shades. About half-way the gyp-
sum again recurs. On it you see growing, in many places,
sedum, of a beautiful violet, almost rosy red ; and on the
limestone rocks, moss of a beautiful yellow.
The former crumbling limestone often shows itself ; but
most prominently in the neighborhood of Caltanisetta, where
it lies in strata, containing a few fossils : there its appearance
is reddish, almost of a vermilion tint, with little of the violet
hue which we formerly observed near San Martino.
Pebbles of quartz I only observed at a spot about half-way
on our journey, in a valley which, shut in on three sides, is
open towards the east, and consequently also towards the sea.
On the left, the high mountain in the distance, near Came-
rata, was remarkable, as also was another, looking like a
propped up cone. For the greatest half of the way not a tree
was to be seen. The crops looked glorious, though they were
not so high as they were in the neighborhood of Girgenti and
near the coast ; however, as clean as possible. In the fields
of corn, which stretched farther than the eye could reach, not
a weed to be seen. At first we saw nothing but green fields ;
then some ploughed lands ; and lastly, in the moister spots,
little patches of wheat, close to Girgenti. We saw apples
and pears everywhere else ; on the heights, and in the vicinity
of a few little villages, some fig-trees.
These thirty miles, together with all that I could distinguish
either on the right or left of us, was limestone of earlier or
later formations, with gypsum here and there. It is to the
crumbling and elaboration of these three together by the
atmosphere that this district is indebted for its fertility. It
must contain but very little sand, for it scarcely grates
between the teeth. A conjecture with regard to the river
Achates must wait for the morrow to confirm it.
The valleys have a pretty form ; and although they are not
flat, still one does not observe any trace of rain gullies, —
merely a few brooks, scarcely noticeable, ripple along them,
for all of them flow direct to the sea. But little of the red
clover is to be seen ; the dwarf palm also disappears here, as
326 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
well as all the other flowers and shrubs of the south-western
side of the island. The thistles are permitted to take pos-
session of nothing but the waysides : every other spot is
sacred to Ceres. Moreover, this region has a great simi-
larity to the hilly and fertile parts of Germany, — for in-
stance, the tract between Erfurt and Gotha, — especially
when you look out for points of resemblance. Very many
things must combine in order to make Sicily one of the most
fertile regions of the world.
On our whole tour we have seen but few horses : plough-
ing is carried on with oxen, and a law exists which forbids
the killing of cows and calves. Goats, asses, and mules we
met in abundance. The horses are mostly dapple-gray, with
black feet and manes. The stables are very splendid, with
well-paved and vaulted stalls. For beans and flax the land
is dressed with dung : the other crops are then grown after
this early one has been gathered in. Green barley in the
ear, done up in bundles, and red clover in like fashion, are
offered for sale to the traveller as he goes along.
On the hill above Caltanisetta I found a hard limestone
with fossils : the larger shells lay lowermost, the smaller
above them. In the pavement of this little town, we noticed
a limestone with pectinites.
Behind Caltanisetta the hill subsided suddenly into many
little valleys, all of which pour their streams into the river
Salso. The soil here is reddish and very loamy, much of it
unworked : what was in cultivation bore tolerably good crops,
though inferior to what we had seen elsewhere.
Castro Giovanni,
Sunday, April 29, 1787.
To-day we had to observe still greater fertility, and want of
population. Heavy rains had fallen, which made travelling
any thing but pleasant, as we had to pass through many
streams which were swollen and rapid. At the Salso, where
one looks round in vain for a bridge, I was struck with a very
singular arrangement for passing the ford. Strong, powerful
men were waiting at the river-side. Of these, two placed
themselves on each side of a mule, and conducted him, rider,
baggage, and all, through the deep part of the river, till they
reach a great bank of gravel in the middle : when the whole
of the travellers have arrived at this spot, they are again
conducted in the same manner through the second arm of the
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 327
stream; while the fellows, by pushing and shoving, keep the
animal in the right track, and support him against the current.
On the water-side I observed bushes, which, however, do
not spread far into the land. The Salso washes down rub-
bles of granite, — a transition of the gneiss, — and marble,
both breccian and also of a single color.
We now saw before us the isolated mountain ridge on
which Castro Giovanni is situate, and which imparts to the
country about it a grave and singular character. As we rode
up the long road which traverses its side, we found that the
rock consisted of muschelkalk ; large calcined shells being
huddled together in heaps. You do not see Castro Giovanni
until you reach the very summit of the ridge, for it lies on
the northern declivity of the mountain. The singular little
town, with its tower, and the village of Caltaseibetta, at a
little distance on the left, stand, as it were, solemnly gazing
at each other. In the plains we saw the bean in full blossom ;
but who is there that could take pleasure in such a sight?
The roads here were horrible, and the more so because they
once were paved, and it rained incessantly. The ancient
Enna received us most inhospitably, — a room with a paved
floor, with shutters and no window, so that we had either to
sit in darkness or be again exposed to the beating rain, from
which we had thought to escape by putting up here. We ate
some remnants of our travelling provisions, and passed a
most miserable night. We made a solemn vow never to
direct our course again towards never so mythological a
name.
Monday, April 30, 1787.
The road leading from Castro Giovanni was so rough and
bad, that we were obliged to lead our horses down it. The
sky before us was covered with thick and low clouds, while
high above them a singular phenomenon was observable. It
was striped white and gray, and seemed to be something
corporeal ; but how could aught corporeal get into the sky ?
Our guide enlightened us. This subject of our amazement
was a side of Mount iEtna, which appeared through the
opening clouds. Snow alternating with the crags formed the
stripes : it was not, however, the highest peak that we saw.
The precipitous rock, on which ancient Enna was situated,
lay behind us ; and we drove through long, long, lonely
valleys : there they lay, uncultivated and uninhabited, aban-
doned to the browsing cattle, which we observed were of a
328 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
beautiful brown color, not large, short-homed, clean-limbed,
lank and lively as deer. These poor cattle had pasturage
enough ; but it was greatly encroached upon, and in some
parts wholly taken possession of, by the thistles. These
plants have here the finest opportunities to disperse their
seed and to propagate their kind : they take up an incredible
space, which would make pasture-land enough for two large
estates. As they are not perennial, they might, if mowed
down before flowering, be easily eradicated.
However, after having thus seriously meditated an agri-
cultural campaign against the thistles, I must, to my shame,
admit they are not altogether useless. At a lonely farm-
house where we pulled up to bait, there were also stopping
two Sicilian noblemen, who, on account of some law-suit,
were riding straight across the country to Palermo. With
amazement we saw both of these grave personages standing
before a patch of these thistles, and with their pocket-knives
cutting off the tops of the tall shoots. Then holding their
prickly booty b}^ the tips of their fingers, they peeled off the
rind, and devoured the inner part with great satisfaction.
In this way they occupied themselves a considerable time,
while we were refreshing ourselves with wine (this time it
was unmixed) and bread. The vetturino prepared for us
some of this marrow of thistle-stalks, and assured us that
it was a wholesome, cooling food: it suited our taste, how-
ever, as little as the raw cabbage at Segeste.
On the Road, April 30, 1787.
Having reached the valley through which the rivulet of
St. Pacio winds it way, we found the district consisting of a
reddish-black and crumbly limestone, many brooks, a very
white soil, — a beautiful valley, which the rivulet made ex-
tremely agreeable. The well-compounded, loamy soil is in
some places twenty feet deep, and for the most part of simi-
lar quality throughout. The crops looked beautiful ; but
some of them were not very clean, and all of them very
backward as compared with those on the southern side.
Here there are the same little dwellings, and not a tree,
as was the case immediately after leaving Castro Giovanni.
On the banks of the river, plenty of pasture-land, but sadly
confined by vast masses of thistles. In the gravel of the
river we again found quartz, both simple and breccian.
Molimenti, quite a new village, wisely built in the centre
of beautiful fields, and on the banks of the rivulet St. Paolo.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 329
The wheat in its neighborhood was unrivalled : it will be
ready for cutting as early as by the 20th of May. In the
whole district I could not discover as yet a trace of volcanic
influence : even the stream brings down no pebbles of that
character. The soil is well mixed, heavy rather than light,
and has, on the whole, a coffee-brown and slightly violet hue.
All the hills on the left, which enclose the stream, are lime-
stone, whose varieties I had no opportunity of observing.
They, however, as they crumble under the influence of the
weather, are evidently the causes of the great fertility that
marks the district throughout.
Tuesday, May 1, 1787.
Through a valley, which, although by nature it was through-
out alike destined to fertility, was unequally cultivated, we
rode along very moodily because, among so many prominent
and irregular shapes, not one appeared to suit our artistic
designs. Kniep had sketched a highly interesting outline ;
but because the foreground and intermediate space were
thoroughly revolting, he had with a pleasant joke appended
to it a foreground of Poussin's, which cost him nothing.
However, they made together a very pretty picture. How
many "picturesque tours," in all probability, contain half-
truths of the like kind.
Our courier, with the view of soothing our grumbling
humor, promised us a good inn for the evening. And, in
fact, he brought us to a hotel which had been built but a
few years since, on the roadside, and, being at a consider-
able distance from Catania, cannot but be right welcome to
all travellers. For our part, finding ourselves, after twelve
days of discomfort, in a tolerable apartment, we were right
glad to be so much at our ease again. But we were sur-
prised at an inscription pencilled on the wall in beautiful
English characters. The following was its purport : " Trav-
eller, whoever you may be, be on your guard against the inn
known in Catania by the sign of the Golden Lion. It is
better to fall into the claws of all the Cyclops, Sirens, and
Scylla together than to go there." Although we at once
supposed that the well-meaning counsellor had, no doubt, by
his mythological figures magnified the danger, we neverthe-
less determined to keep out of the reach of the " Golden
Lion," which was thus proclaimed to us to be so savage a
beast. When, therefore, our muleteer demanded of us
where we would wish to put up in Catania, we answered, any
330 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
where but at the "Golden Lion!" Whereupon he ven-
tured to recommend us to stop where he put up his beasts,
only he said we should have to provide for ourselves just as
we had hitherto done.
Towards Hybla Major, pebbles of lava present them-
selves, which the stream brings down from the north. Over
the ferry you find limestone, which contains all sorts of
rubble, hornstone, lava, and calx ; and then hardened vol-
canic ashes, covered over with calcareous tufa. The hills
of mixed gravel continue till you come near to Catania, at
and beyond which place you find the lava flux from JEtna.
You leave on the left what looks like a crater. (Just under
Molimenti the peasants were pulling up the flax.) Nature
loves a motley garb ; and here you may see how she con-
trives gayly to deck out the dark bluish-gray lava of the
mountains. A few seasons bring over it a moss of a high
yellow color, upon which a beautiful red sedum grows
luxuriantly, and some other lovely violet flowers. The
plantations of cactus and the vine-rows bespeak a careful
cultivation. Now immense streams of lava begin to hem us
in. Motta is a beautiful and striking rock. The beans are
like very high shrubs. The fields vary very much in their
geological features, — now very gravelly, now better mixed.
The vetturino, who probably had not for a long time seen
the vegetation of the south-eastern side of the island, burst
into loud exclamations about the beauty of the crops, and
with self-complaisant patriotism demanded of us if we ever
saw such in our own country. Here, however, every thing
is sacrificed to them : you see few if any trees. But the
sight that most pleased us was a young girl, of a splendid
but slight form, who, evidently an old acquaintance, kept
up with the mule of our vetturino, chatting the while, and
spinning away with as much elegance as was possible.
Now yellow tints begin to predominate in the flowers.
Towards Misterbianco the cactuses are again found in the
hedges ; but hedges entirely of this strangely grown plant
become, as you approach Catania, more and more general,
and are even still more beautiful.
Catania, May 2, 1787.
In our quarters we found ourselves, we must confess,
most uncomfortable. The meal, such as our muleteer could
alone furnish, was none of the best. A fowl stewed in rice
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 331
would have been tolerable, but for an immoderate spice of
saffron, which made it both yellow and unpalatable. The
most abominable of bad beds had almost driven me a second
time to bring out Hackert's leathern bag, and we therefore
next morning spoke on this subject to our obliging host.
He expressed his regret that it was not in his power to pro-
vide better for us ; " but," he said, " there is, above there,
a house where strangers are well entertained, and have every
reason to be satisfied."
Saying this, he pointed to a large corner house, of which
the part that was turned towards us seemed to promise well.
We immediately hurried over to it, and found a very active
personage, who declared himself to be a waiter, and who,
in the absence of the landlord, showed us an excellent bed-
room, with a sitting-room adjoining, and assured us, at the
same time, that we should be well attended to. Without
delay, we demanded, according to our practice, what was the
charge for dinner, for wine, for luncheon, and other particu-
lars. The answers were all fair ; and we hastily had our
trifles brought over to the house, and arranged them in the
spacious and gilded buffets. For the first time since we left
Palermo, Kniep found an opportunity to spread out his
portfolio, and to arrange his drawings, as I did my notes.
Then, delighted with our fine room, we stepped out on the
balcony of the sitting-room to enjoy the view. When we had
done looking at and extolling the prospect, we turned to
enter our apartment, and commence our occupations, when,
lo ! over our head was a large golden lion, regarding us with
a most threatening aspect. Quite serious we looked for a
moment into one another's faces, then smiled, and laughed
outright. From this moment, however, we began to look
around us to see whether we could discover any of these
Homeric goblins.
Nothing of the kind was to be seen. On the contrary,
we found in the sitting-room a pretty young woman, who
was playing about with a child, from two to three years old,
who stood suddenly still on being hastily scolded by the vice-
landlord. "You must take yourself off!" he testily ex-
claimed : " you have no business here." " It is very hard,"
she rejoined, u that you drive me away : the child is scarcely
to be pacified in the house when you are away ; and the
signori will allow me, at least while you are present, to keep
the child quiet." The husband made no reply, but pro-
ceeded to drive her away : at the door the child cried most
332 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
miserably, and at last we did most heartily wish that the
pretty yoimg madam had staid.
Warned by the Englishman, it was no art to see through
the comedy : we played the Neulinge, the Unschuldige ; he,
however, with his very loving paternal feelings, prevailed
very well. The child, in fact, was evidently very fond of
him ; and probably the seeming mother had pinched him at
the door to make him cry so.
And so, too, with the greatest innocence possible she came
and staid with him as the man went out to deliver for us a
letter of introduction to the domestic chaplain of Prince
Biscari. She played and toyed with the child till he came
back, bringing word from the abbe that he would come him-
self, and talk with us on the matter.
Catania
Thursday, May 3, 1787.
The abbe, who had come last night and paid his respects
to us, appeared this morning in good time, and conducted us
to the palace, which is of one story, and built on a tolerably
high socle. First of all we visited the museum, where there
is a large collection of marble and bronze figures, vases, and
all sorts of such like antiques. Here we had once more an
opportunity of enlarging our knowledge ; and the trunk of a
Jupiter, with which I was already acquainted through a cast
in Tischbein's studio, particularly ravished me. It possesses
merits far higher than I am able to estimate. An inmate of
the house gave us all necessaiy historical information. After
this we passed into a spacious and lofty saloon. The many
chairs around and against the walls indicated that a numer-
ous company was often assembled here. We seated our-
selves in hope of a favorable reception. Soon afterwards
two ladies entered, and walked several times up and down
the room. From time to time they spoke to each other.
When they observed us, the abbe rose : I did the same ; and
we both bowed. I asked, '"Who are they?" and learned
that the younger was the daughter of the prince, but the
elder a noble lady of Catania. We resumed our seats, while
they continued to walk up and down as people do in a mar-
ket-place.
We were now conducted to the prince, who (as I had been
already given to understand) honored me with a singular
mark of his confidence in showing me his collection of coins,
since, by such acts of kindness, both his father and himself
had lost many a rare specimen ; and so his general good
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 333
nature, and wish to oblige, had been naturally much con-
tracted. On this occasion I probably appeared a little better
informed than formerly, for I had learned something from
the examination of Prince Torremuzza's collection. I again
contrived to enlarge my knowledge, being greatly helped by
Winckelmanir s never failing clews, which safely led the way
through all the different epochs of art. The prince, who
was well informed in all these matters, when he saw that he
had before him not a connoisseur, but an attentive amateur,
willingly informed me of every particular that I found it
necessary to ask about.
After having given to these matters considerable time, but
still far less than they deserved, we were on the point of
taking our leave, when the prince conducted us to the prin-
cess, his mother, in whose apartments the smaller works of
art are to be seen.
We found a venerable, naturally noble lady, who received
us with the words, " Pray, look round my room, gentlemen :
here you still see all that my late husband collected and
arranged for me. This I owe to the affection of my son,
who not only allows me still to reside in his best room, but
has even forbidden the least thing to be taken away or
removed that his late father purchased for me and chose a
place for. Thus I enjoy a double pleasure : not only have I
been able these many years to live in my usual ways and
habits, but have also, as formerly, the opportunity to see
and form the acquaintance of those worthy strangers who
come hither from widely distant places to examine our treas-
ures."
She thereupon, with her own hands, opened for us the
glass case in which the works in amber were preserved.
Sicilian amber is distinguished from the northern by its pass-
ing from the transparent and non-transparent — from the
wax and the honey-colored — through all possible shades of
a deep yellow, to the most beautiful hyacinthian red. In the
case there were urns, cups, and other things, for executing
which, large pieces of a marvellous size must have been ne-
cessary : for such objects, and also for cut shells such as
are executed at Trapani, and also for exquisitely manu-
factured articles in ivory, the princess had an especial taste,
and about some of them she had amusing stories to tell.
The prince called our attention to those of more solid value \
and so several hours slipped away ,* not, however, without
either amusement or edification.
334 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
In the course of our conversation, the princess discovered
that we were Germans : she therefore asked us after Riede-
sel, Bartels, and Miinter, all of whom she knew, and whose
several characters she seemed well able to appreciate and to
discriminate. We parted from her reluctantly ; and she, too,
seemed loath to bid us farewell. An insular life has in it
something very peculiar to be thus excited and refreshed by
none but passing sympathies.
From the palace the abbe led us to the Benedictine Mon-
astery, and took us to the cell of a brother of the order,
whose reserved and melancholy expression (though he was
not of more than middle age) promised but little of cheer-
ful conversation. He was, however, the skilful musician
who alone could manage the enormous organ in the church
of this monastery. When he had rather guessed than waited
to hear our request, he complied with it in silence. We pro-
ceeded to the very spacious church, where, sitting down at
the glorious instrument, he made the softest notes whisper
through its remotest corners, or filled the whole of it with the
crash of the loudest tones.
If you had not previously seen the organist, you would
fancy that none but a giant could exercise such power : as,
however, we were already acquainted with his personal ap-
pearance, we only wondered that the necessary exertion had
not long since worn him out.
Soon after dinner our abbe arrived with a carriage, and
proposed to show us a distant part of the city. Upon get-
ting in we had a strange dispute about precedence. Having
entered first, I had seated myself on the left-hand side. As
he ascended, he begged of me to move, and to take the right-
hand seat. I begged him not to stand on such ceremony.
" Pardon me," he replied, " and let us sit as I propose ; for,
if I take my place on your right, everybody will believe that
I am taking a ride with you ; but if I sit on }'our left, it is
thereby indicated that you are riding with me, — that is, with
him who has, in the prince's name, to show you the city."
To this nothing could, of course, be objected ; and it was
settled accordingly.
We drove up the streets where the lava, which in 1690
destroyed a great part of this city, remains visible to this
day. The solid lava had been worked like any other rock :
streets had even been marked out on its surface, and
partly built. I placed under the seat of our carriage an un-
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 335
doubted specimen of the molten rock, remembering, that just
before my departure from Germany the dispute had arisen
about the volcanic origin of basalt. And I did so in many
other places, in order to have several varieties.
However, if natives had not proved themselves the friends
of their own land, — had they not even labored, either for the
sake of profit or of science, to bring together whatever is
remarkable in this neighborhood, — the traveller would have
had to trouble himself long and to little purpose. In Na-
ples I had received much information from the lava dealer,
but still more information got I here from the Chevalier Gio-
eni. In his rich and excellently arranged museum I learned
more or less correctly to recognize the various phenomena of
the lava of iEtna : the basalt at its foot, stones in a changed
state, — every thing, in fact, was pointed out to me in the
most friendly manner. What I saw to be wondered at most
were some zeolites from the rugged rocks which rise out of
the sea below Jaci.
As we inquired of the chevalier which was the best course
to take in order to ascend iEtna, he would not hear of so
dangerous an attempt as trying to reach the summit, espe-
cially in the present season of the year. " Generally,' ' he
observed, begging my pardon, however, " the strangers who
come here think far too lightly of the matter : we, however,
who are neighbors of the mountain, are quite contented if,
twice in our life, we hit on a very good opportunity to reach
the summit. Brydone, who was the first to kindle by his de-
scription a desire to see this fiery peak, did not himself ascend
it. Count Borch leaves his readers in uncertainty ; but, in
fact, even he ascended only to a certain height : and the
same may be said of many others. At present the snow
comes down far too low, and presents insuperable obstacles.
If you would take my advice, you will ride very early some
morning for Monte Rosso, and be contented with ascending
this height. From it you will enjoy a splendid view of
.^Etna, and at the same time have an opportunity of observ-
ing the old lava, which, bursting out from that point in 1697,
unhappily poured down upon the city. The view is glorious
and distinct : it is best to listen to a description for all the
rest."
Catania,
Friday, May 4, 1787.
Following this good counsel, we set out early on a mule ;
and, continually looking behind us on our way, reached at
336 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
last the region of the lava, as yet unchanged by time.
Jagged lumps and slabs stared us in the face, among which
a chance road had been tracked out by the beasts. We
halted on the first considerable eminence. Kniep sketched
with wonderful precision what lay before us. The masses
of lava in the fore-ground, the double peak of Monte Rosso
on the left, right before us the woods of Nicolosi, out of
which rose the snow-capped and slightly smoking summit.
We drew near to the Red Mountain. I ascended it. It is
composed entirely of red volcanic rubbish, ashes, and stones,
heaped together. It would have been very easy to go round
the mouth of the crater, had not a violent and stormy east
wind made my footing unsteady. When I wished to go a
little way, I was obliged to take off my cloak ; and then my
hat was every moment in danger of being blown into the
crater, and I after it. On this account I sat down in order
to recover myself, and to take a view of the surrounding ob-
jects ; but even this position did not help me at all. The
wind came direct from the east, over the glorious land, which
far and near, and reaching to the sea, lay below me. The
outstretched strand, from Messina to Syracuse, with its bays
and headlands, was before my eyes, either quite open, or else
(though only in a few small points) covered with rocks.
When I came down quite numbed, Kniep, under the shelter
of the hill, had passed his time well, and with a few light
lines on the paper had perpetuated the memory of what the
wild storm had allowed me scarcely to see, and still less to
fix permanently in my mind.
Returned once more to the jaws of the Golden Lion, we
found the waiter, whom we had with difficult}' prevented from
accompanying us. He praised our prudence in giving up the
thought of visiting the summit, but urgently recommended
for the next day a walk by the sea to the rocks of Jaci, — it
was the most delightful pleasure-trip that could be made
from Catania ; but it would be well to take something to eat
and drink with us, and also utensils for warming our viands.
His wife offered herself to perform this duty. Moreover, he
spoke of the jubilee there was when some Englishmen hired a
boat, with a band of music to accompany them, which
made it more delightful than it was possible to form any
idea of.
The rocks of Jaci had a strong attraction for me : I had a
strong desire to knock off from them as fine zeolites as I had
seen in Gioeni's possession. It was true we might reduce
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 337
the scale of the affair, and decline the attendance of the
wife ; but the warning of the Englishman prevailed over
every other consideration. We gave up all thoughts of zeo-
lites, and prided ourselves not a little on this act of self-
denial.
Catania,
Saturday, May 5, 1787.
Our clerical companion has not failed us to-day. He con-
ducted us to some remains of ancient architecture ; in exam-
ining which, however, the visitor needs to bring with him no
ordinary talent of restoration. We saw the remains of the
great cisterns of a naumachy, and other similar ruins, which,
however, have been filled up and depressed through the many
successive destructions of the city by lava, earthquakes, and
wars. It is only those who are most accurately acquainted
with the architecture of the ancients that can now derive
either pleasure or instruction from seeing them.
The kind abbe engaged to make our excuses for not wait-
ing again on the prince, and we parted with lively expres-
sions of mutual gratitude and good will.
Taormina,
Sunday, May 6, 1787.
God be thanked that all that we have here seen this day
has been already amply described, but still more, that Kniep
has resolved to spend the whole of to-morrow in the open
air, taking sketches. When you have ascended to the top
of the wall of rocks which rise precipitously at no great
distance from the sea, you find two peaks, connected by a
semicircle. Whatever shape this may have had originally
from Nature, has been helped by the hand of man, which has
formed out of it an amphitheatre for spectators. Walls and
other buildings have furnished the necessary passages and
rooms. Right across, at the foot of the semicircular range
of seats, the scene was built ; and by this means the two
rocks were joined, and thus a most enormous work of nature
and art was complete.
Now, sitting down at the spot where formerly sat the up-
permost spectators, you confess at once that never did audi-
ence, in any theatre, have before them such a spectacle as
you there behold. On the right, and on high rocks at the
side, castles tower in the air : farther on, the city lies below
you ; and although its buildings are all of modern date, still,
similar ones, no doubt, stood of old on the same site. After
338 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
this the eye falls on the whole of the long ridge of JEtna, ;
then on the left it catches a view of the seashore, as far as
Catania, and even Syracuse ; and then the wide and exten-
sive view is closed by the immense smoking volcano, but
not horribly, for the atmosphere, with its softening effect,
makes it look more distant and milder than it really is.
If now you turn from this view towards the passage run-
ning at the back of the spectators, you have on the left the
whole wall of the rocks between which and the sea runs
the road to Messina. And then, again, you behold vast
groups of rocky ridges in the sea itself, with the coast of
Calabria in the far distance, which only a fixed and atentive
gaze can distinguish from the clouds rising rapidly from it.
We descended towards the theatre, and tarried a while
among its ruins, on which an accomplished architect would
do well to employ, at least on paper, his talent of restoration.
After this I attempted to make a way for myself through the
gardens to the city. But I soon learned by experience what
an impenetrable bulwark is formed by a hedge of agaves
planted close together. You can see through their interla-
cing leaves, and you think, therefore, it will be easy to force
a way through them ; but the prickles on their leaves are
very sensible obstacles. If you step on these colossal leaves,
in the hope that they will bear you, they break off suddenly ;
and so, instead of getting out, you fall into the arms of the
next plant. When, however, at last we had wound our way
out of the labyrinth, we found but little to enjoy in the city ;
though from the neighboring country we felt it impossible to
part before sunset. Infinitely beautiful was it to observe
how this countryside, of which every point had its interest,
was gradually enveloped in darkness.
Below Taokmusta: on the seashore,
Monday, May 7, 1787.
Kniep, whom, by good luck, I brought with me hither, can-
not be praised enough for relieving me of a burden which
would have been intolerable to me, and which goes directly
counter to my nature. He has gone to sketch in detail the
objects of which he took a general survey yesterday. He
will have to point his pencil many a time, and I know not
when he will have finished. I shall have it in my power to
see all these sights again. At first I wished to ascend the
height with him ; but then, again, I was tempted to remain
here. I sought a corner like the bird about to build its ne6t.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 339
In a sorry and neglected peasant's garden, I have seated my-
self on the trunk of an orange-tree, and lost myself in reve-
ries. Orange-branches on which a traveller can sit, sounds
rather strangely ; but seems quite natural when one knows
that the orange-tree, left to nature, sends out, at a little dis-
tance from the root, twigs which in time become decided
branches.
And so, thinking over again the plan of the " Nausicaa," I
formed the idea of a dramatic concentration of the " Odys-
sey.' ' I think the scheme is not impracticable, only it will
be indispensable to keep clearly in view the difference of the
drama and the epopee.
Kniep has come down, quite happy and delighted, and has
brought back with him two large sheets of drawing-paper,
covered with the clearest outlines. Both will contribute to pre-
serve in my mind a perpetual memory of these glorious days.
It must not be left unrecorded, that on this shore, and
beneath the clearest sky, we looked around us, from a little
balcony, and saw roses, and heard the nightingales. These
we are told sing here during at least six months of the twelve.
From Memory.
The activity of the clever artist who accompanies me, and
my own more desultory and feeble efforts, having now assured
me the possession of well-selected sketches of the country
and its most remarkable points (which, either in outline, or,
if I like, in well-finished paintings, will be mine for ever),
I yielded all the more to an impulse which has been daily
growing in strength. I have felt an irresistible impulse to
animate the glorious scenes by which I am surrounded, —
the sea, the island, the heavens, — with appropriate poetical
beings, and here, in and out of this locality, to finish a com-
position in a tone and spirit such as I have not yet produced.
The clear sky, the smell of the sea, the halo which merges,
as it were, into one, the sky, the headlands, and the sea, —
all these afforded nourishment to my purpose ; and whilst I
wandered in those beautiful gardens, between blossoming
hedges of oleander, and through arbors of fruit-bearing
orange and citron trees, and between other trees and
shrubs which were unknown to me, I felt the strange
influence in the most agreeable way possible.
Convinced that for me there could be no better commentary
on the " Odyssey" than even this very neighborhood, I
purchased a copy, and read it, after my own fashion, with
340 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
incredible interest. But I was also excited by it to produce
something of my own, which, strange as it seemed at the first
look, became dearer and dearer, and at last took entire pos-
session of me. For I entertained the idea of treating the
story of Nausicaa as the subject of a tragedy.
It is impossible for me even to say what I should have been
able to make of it, but I had quite settled the plan in my
mind. The leading idea was to paint Nausicaa as an amia-
ble and excellent maiden who, wooed by many suitors, but
conscious of no preference, coldly rejected all advances, but
falling in love with a remarkable stranger, suddenly alters
her conduct, and compromises herself by an over-hasty
avowal of her affection, and consequently gives rise to a
truly tragic situation. This simple fable might, I thought,
be rendered highly interesting by an abundance of subordi-
nate motives, and especially by the naval and insular charac-
ter of the locality, and of the personages where and among
whom the scene would be laid, and by the peculiar tone it
would thence assume.
The first act began with the game at ball. The unexpected
acquaintance is made : the scruple to lead him herself into
the city is already the harbinger of her love.
The second act unfolds the characters of the household
of Alcinous, and of the suitors, and ends with the arrival of
Ulysses.
The third is devoted entirely to exhibiting the greatness
and merits of the new-comer ; and I hoped to be able, in the
course of the dialogue (which was to bring out the history
of his adventures) , to produce a truly artistic and agreeable
effect by representing the various ways in which this story
was received by his several hearers. During the narrative,
the passions were to be heightened, and Nausicaa' s lively
sympathy with the stranger to be thrown out more and more
by conflicting feelings.
In the fourth act, Ulysses (off the scene) gives convincing
proofs of his valor ; while the women remain, and give full
scope to their likings, their hopes, and all other tender emo-
tions. The high favor in which the stranger stands with all,
makes it impossible for Nausicaa to restrain her own feelings,
and she thus becomes irreparably compromised with her own
people. Ulysses, who, partly innocent, partly to blame, is
the cause of all this, now announces his intention to depart;
and nothing remains for the unhappy Nausicaa, but in the
fifth act to seek for an end of existence.
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 341
In this composition there was nothing but what I would
have been able to depict from nature after my own experi-
ence. Even while travelling — -even in peril — to excite fa-
vorable feelings, which, although they did not end tragically,
might yet prove painful enough, and perhaps dangerous, and
would, at all events, leave deep wounds behind ; even the
supposed accidents of describing in lively colors, for the
entertainment of others, objects observed at a great distance
from home, travelling adventurers and chances of life ; to
be looked upon by the young as a demigod, but by the more
sedate as a talker of rhodomontade, and to meet now with
unexpected favor, and now with unexpected rebuffs, — all
this caused me to feel so great an attachment to this plan,
that, in thinking of it, I dreamed away all the time of my stay
at Palermo, and, indeed, of all the rest of my Sicilian tour.
It was this that made me care little for all the inconvenience
and discomfort I met with ; for, on this classic ground, a
poetic vein had taken possession of me, causing all I saw,
experienced, or observed, to be taken and regarded in a
J030US mood.
After my usual habit, good or bad, I wrote down little or
nothing of the play ; but worked in my mind most of it with
all the minutest detail. And there, in my mind, pushed out
of thought b}' many subsequent distractions, it has remained
until this moment, when, however, I can recollect nothing
but a very faint idea of it.
Tuesday, May 8, 1787.
On the road to Messina.
High limestone rocks on the left. They become more
deeply colored as you advance, and form many beautiful
caves. Presently there commences a sort of rock which
may be called clay slate, or sandstone (graywacke). In
the brooks you now meet pebbles of granite. The yellow
apples of the solanum, the red flowers of the oleander, give
beauty to the landscape. The little stream of Nisi brings
down with it mica-pebbles, as do also all the streams we
reached afterwards.
Wednesday, May 9, 1787.
Beaten by a stormy east wind, we rode between the raging
sea on the right, and the wall of rocks from the top of
which we were looking down yesterday ; but this day we
have been continually at war with the water. We had to
342 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
cross innumerable brooks, of which the largest bears the
honorable title of river. However, these streams, as well
as the gravel which they bring down with them, were easier
to buffet with than the sea, which was raging violently, and
at many places clashed right over the road, against the rocks,
which threw back the thick spray on the travellers. It was
a glorious sight, and its rarity made us quite ready to put
up with all its inconvenience.
At the same time there was no lack of objects for the
mineralogical observer. Enormous masses of limestone, un-
dermined by the wind and waves, fall from time to time :
the softer particles are worn away by the continual motion
of the waves, while the harder substances imbedded in them
are left behind ; and so the whole strand is strewed with
variegated flints verging on the hornstone. I selected and
carried off many a specimen.
Messina,
Thursday, May 10, 1787.
And so at last we arrived in Messina, where, as we knew
of no lodging, we made up our minds to pass the first night
at the quarters of our vetturino, and look out for a more
comfortable habitation in the morning. In consequence of
this resolution, our first entrance gave us the terrible idea
of entering a ruined city ; for, during a whole quarter of
an hour as we rode along, we passed ruin after ruin, before
we reached the auberge, which, being the only new building
that has sprung up in this quarter, opens to you from its
first-story window a view of nothing but a rugged waste of
ruins. Beyond the circle of the stable-yard not a living
being of any kind was to be seen. During the night the
stillness was frightful. The doors would neither bolt nor
even close. There was no more provision here for the enter-
tainment of human guests than at any other of the similar
posting-stations : however, we slept very comfortably on
a mattress which our vetturino took away from beneath the
very body of our host.
Friday, May 11, 1787.
To-day our worthy muleteer left us, and a good largesse
rewarded him for his attentive services. We parted very
amicably, after he had first procured us a servant to take
us at once to the best inn in the place, and afterwards to
show us whatever was at all remarkable in Messina. Our
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 343
first hQst, in order that his wish to get rid of us might be
gratified as quickly as possible, helped to carry our boxes
and other packages to a pleasant lodging nearer to the in-
habited portion of the city, — that is to say, beyond the city
itself. The following description will give some idea of it.
The terrible calamity which visited Messina, and swept away
twelve thousand of its inhabitants, did not leave behind it
a single dwelling for the thirty thousand who survived.
Most of the houses were entirely thrown down : the cracked
and shaking walls of the others made them quite unsafe to
live in. On the extensive meads, therefore, to the north
of Messina, a city of planks was hastily erected, of which
any one will quickly form an idea who has ever seen the
Romerberg at Frankfort during the fair, or passed through
the market-place at Leipzig ; for all the retail houses and
work-shops are open towards the street, and the chief busi-
ness is carried on in front of them. Therefore, there are
but few of the larger houses even that are particularly well
closed against publicity. Thus they have been living for
three years ; and the habits engendered by such booth-like,
hut-like, and, indeed, tent-like dwellings, has had a decided
influence on the character of the occupants. The horror
caused by this unparalleled event, the dread of its recur-
rence, impels them with light-hearted cheerfulness to enjoy
to the utmost the passing moment. A dreadful expectation
of a fresh calamity was excited on the 21st of April — only
twenty days ago, that is — by an earthquake which again
sensibly shook the ground. We were shown a small church
where a multitude of people were crowded together at the
very moment, and perceived the trembling. Some persons
who were present at the time do not appear even yet to have
recovered from their fright.
In seeking out and visiting these spots, we were accom-
panied by a friendly consul, who spontaneously put himself
to much trouble on our account, — a kindness to be grate-
fully acknowledged in this wilderness more than in any other
place. At the same time, having learned that we were soon
about to leave, he informed us that a French merchantman
was on the point of sailing for Naples. The news was
doubly welcome, as the flag of France is a protection against
the pirates.
We made our kind cicerone aware of our desire to ex-
amine the inside of one of the larger (though still one-sto-
ried) huts, and to see their plain and extemporized economy.
344 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
Just ^t this moment we were joined by an agreeable person,
who presently described himself to be a teacher of French.
After finishing our walk, the consul made known to him our
wish to look at one of these buildings, and requested him
to take us home with him and show us his.
We entered the hut, of which the sides and roof consisted
alike of planks. The impression it left on the eye was
exactly that of one of the booths in a fair, where wild beasts
or other curiosities are exhibited . The timber-work of the
walls and the roof was quite open. A green curtain divided
off the front room, which was not covered with deals, but
the natural floor was left just as in a tent. There were
some chairs and a table, but no other article of domestic
furniture. The space was lighted from above by the open-
ings which had been accidentally left in the roofing. We
stood talking together for some time, while I contemplated
the green curtain, and the roof within, which was visible over
it, when all of a sudden, from the other side of the curtain,
two lovely girls' heads, black-eyed and black-haired, peeped
over, full of curiosity, but vanished again as soon as they
saw they were perceived. However, upon being asked for
by the consul, after the lapse of just so much time as was
necessary to adorn themselves, they came forward, and with
their well-dressed and neat little bodies crept before the
green tapestry. From their questions we clearly perceived
that they looked upon us as fabulous beings from another
world, in which most amiable delusion our answers must
have gone far to confirm them. The consul gave a merry
description of our singular appearance : the conversation
was so very agreeable, that we found it hard to part with
them. Not until we had got out of the door, it occurred
to us that we had not seen the inner rooms, and, being
entirely taken up with its fair inhabitants, had forgotten all
about the construction of the house.
Messina,
Saturday, May 12, 1787.
Among other things, we were told by the consul, that
although it was not indispensably necessary, still it would
be as well to pay our respects to the governor, a strange old
man, who, by his humors and prejudices, might as readily
injure as benefit us : that it always told in his (the consul's)
favor if he introduced distinguished personages to the gov-
ernor ; and besides, no stranger arriving here can tell whether
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 345
some time or other he may not somehow or other require the
assistance of this personage. So, to please my friend, I
went with him.
As we entered the ante-chamber, we heard in the inner
room a most horrible hubbub. A footman, with a very
punch-like expression of countenance, whispered in the con-
sul's ear, "An ill day — a dangerous moment!" How-
ever, we entered, and found the governor, a very old man,
sitting at a table near the window, with his back turned
towards us. Large piles of old discolored letters were lying
before him, from which, with the greatest sedateness, he
went on cutting out the unwritten portion of the paper, —
thus giving pretty strong proofs of his love of economy.
During this peaceful occupation, however, he was fearfully
rating and cursing away at a respectable-looking personage,
who, to judge from his costume, was probably connected
with Malta, and who, with great coolness and precision of
manner, was defending himself, for which, however, he was
afforded but little opportunity. Though thus rated and
scolded, he yet with great self-possession endeavored, by
appealing to his passport and to his well-known connections
in Naples, to remove a suspicion which the governor, as it
would appear, had formed against him as coming and going
without any apparent business. All this, however, was of
no use : the governor went on cutting his old letters, and
carefully separating the clean paper, and scolding all the
while.
Besides ourselves, there were about twelve other persons in
the room, spectators of the bull-baiting, standing hovering in
a very wide circle, and apparently envying us our proximity
to the door as a desirable position, should the passionate old
man seize his crutch, and strike away right and left. During
this scene our good consul's face had lengthened considera-
bly : for my part, my courage was kept up by the grimaces
of a footman, who, though just outside the door, was close
to me, and, as often as I turned round, made the drollest
gestures to appease my alarm, by indicating that all this did
not matter much.
And indeed the awful affair was quickly brought to an end.
The old man suddenly closed it with observing that there
was nothing to prevent him clapping the Maltese in prison,
and letting him cool his heels in a cell. However, he would
pass it over this time : he might stay in Messina the few
days he had spoken of, but after that he must pack off,
346 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
and never show his face there again. Very coolly, and with-
out the slightest change of countenance, the object of sus-
picion took his leave, gracefully saluting the assembly, and
ourselves in particular, as he passed through the crowd to
get to the door. As the governor turned round fiercely, in-
tending to add yet another menace, he caught sight of us,
and immediately recovering himself, nodded to the consul,
upon which he stepped forward to introduce me.
The governor was a person of very great age : his head
bent forward on his chest, while from beneath his gray
shaggy brows, black sunken eyes cast forth stealthy glances.
Now, however, he was quite different from what he had been
a few moments before. He begged me to be seated ; and
still uninterruptedly pursuing his occupation, asked me many
questions, which I duly answered, and concluded by inviting
me to dine with him as long as I should remain here. The
consul, as well satisfied as myself, nay, even more so, since
he knew better than I the danger we had escaped, made
haste to descend the stairs ; and, for my part, I had no de-
sire ever again to approach the lion's den.
Messina,
Sunday, May 13, 1787.
Waking this morning, we found ourselves in a much more
pleasant apartment, and with the sun shining brightly, but
still in poor, afflicted Messina. Singularly unpleasant is the
view of the so-called Palazzata, a crescent-shaped row of
real palaces, which for nearly a quarter of a league encloses
and marks out the roadstead. All were built of stone, and
four stories high. Of several, the whole front, up to the cor-
nice of the roof, is still standing, while others have been
thrown down as low as the first, or second, or third story ;
so that this once splendid line of buildings exhibits at
present with its many chasms and perforations, a strangely
revolting appearance, for the blue heaven may be seen
through almost every window. The interior apartments in
all are utterly destroyed and fallen.
One cause of this singular phenomenon is the fact, that the
splendid architectural edifices erected by the rich tempted
their less wealthy neighbors to vie with them, in appearance
at least, and to hide, behind a new front of cut stone, the old
houses, which had been built of larger and smaller rubble-
stones, kneaded together and consolidated with plenty of
mortar. This joining, not much to be trusted at any time,
LETTERS FROM ITALY. 347
was quickly loosened and dissolved by the terrible earth-
quake. The whole fell together. Among the many singular
instances of wonderful preservation which occurred in this
calamity, they tell the following : the owner of one of these
houses had, exactly at the awful moment, entered the recess
of a window, while the whole house fell together behind him ;
and there, suspended aloft, but safe, he calmly awaited the
moment of his liberation from his airy prison. That this
style of building, which was adopted in consequence of there
not being any quarries in the neighborhood, was the principal
cause why the ruin of the city was so total as it was, is
proved by the fact that the houses which were of a more
solid masonry are still standing. The Jesuits' College and
Church, which are solidly built of cut stone, are still standing
uninjured, with their original substantial fabric unimpaired.
But whatever may be the cause, the appearance of Messina
is most oppressive, and reminds one of the times when the
Sicani and Siculi abandoned this restless and treacherous
district, to occupy the western coast of the island.
After passing the morning in viewing these ruins, we
entered our inn to take a frugal meal. We were still sitting
at table, feeling quite comfortable, when the consul's servant
rushed breathless into the room, declaring that the governor
had been looking for me all over the city : he had invited
me to dinner, and yet I was absent. The consul earnestly
entreated me to go immediately, whether I had dined or not,
— whether I had allowed the hour to pass through forgetful-
ness or design. I now felt, for the first time, how childish
and silly it was to allow my jo}^ at my first escape to banish
all further recollection of the Cyclop 's invitation. The ser-
vant did not let me loiter : his representations were most
urgent and most direct to the point ; if I did not go the con-
sul would be in danger of suffering all that this furious des-
pot might choose to inflict upon him and his countrymen.
Whilst I was arranging my hair and dress, I took courage,
and, with a lighter heart, followed, invoking Ulysses as my
patron saint, and begging him to intercede in my behalf with
Pallas Athene.
Arrived at the lion's den, I was conducted by a fine foot-
man into a large dining-room, where about forty people were
sitting at an oval table, without, however, a word being
spoken. The place on the governor's right was unoccupied,
and to it was I conducted accordingly.
Having saluted the host and his guests with a low bow, I
348 LETTERS FROM ITALY.
took my seat by his side, excused my delay by the vast size
of the city, and by the mistakes which the unusual way of
reckoning the time had so often caused me to make. With
a fiery look, he replied, that if a person visited foreign
countries, he ought to make a point to learn its customs, and
to guide his movements accordingly. To this I answered,
that such was invariably my endeavor, only I had found that,
in a strange locality, and amidst totally new circumstances,
one invariably fell at first, even with the very best intentions,
into errors which might appear unpardonable, but for the
kindness which readily accepted in excuse for them the plea
of the fatigue of travelling, the distraction of new objects,
the necessity of providing for one's bodily comforts, and,
indeed, of preparing for one's further travels.
Hereupon he asked me how long I thought of remaining.
I answered that I should like, if it were possible, to stay
here for a considerable period, in order to have the opportu-
nity of attesting, by my close attention to his orders and
commands, my gratitude for the favor he had shown me.
After a pause he inquired what I had seen in Messina? I
detailed to him my morning's occupation, with some remarks
on what I had seen, adding that what most had struck me
was the cleanliness and good order in the streets of this
devastated city. And, in fact, it was highly admirable to
observe how all the streets had been cleared by throwing the
rubbish among the fallen fortifications, and by piling up
the stones against the houses, by which means the middle
of the
