Part 5 (1/2)
THE CAPUCHIN.
While we waited for our dinner, a Capuchin at another table enjoyed a moderate repast. Bologna sausage, cheese, fruit, and wine of two sorts contented him. His robust countenance beamed with health, his eyes were intelligent. This was one of the personalities of which the little shown makes one desirous to know more. His refreshment consumed and paid for, he began a rambling conversation with the _garcon_ who attended us, as well as with the proprietor of the _locanda_ in which we were. Capuchin and Garcon mutually deplored the poverty of the poor in Naples. Capuchin showed two blue silk handkerchiefs which he had been forced to purchase, for compa.s.sion, of a poor woman. Both obviously considered the new state of things as partly accountable for this poverty, which is, on the contrary, as old as the monastic orders. The Capuchin had been preaching Lenten sermons in Greece, and had been well received. Garcon rejoined that there were good Catholics in Greece, agreeing harmoniously with the man in brown. But at this juncture another face looks in at the door.
”That is the man who plagues me to give him lucky numbers for play,”
says the _frate_. Here I can keep out of the company no longer. ”What does he play at--cards or dice?” I ask. ”Neither, madam; that man ruins himself with playing at the lottery.” Capuchin continues: ”If I had the gift of fortunate numbers, I would not withhold them. I should wish to benefit my fellow-creatures in this way, if I were able to do so. But I have it not, this gift of prophecy.” And if you had it, thought I, I am not so sure of the ultimate benefit of gambling to your fellow-creatures, even were they to win, instead of losing.
The Capuchin and I, however, talk of other things--of monasteries, and rich libraries, closed to women. ”So, father, you consider us the allies of the devil.” ”No, signora; the inhibition is mutual: we may not enter any nunnery.” The _padrone_ of the inn here breaks in with the robust suggestion that these restrictions ought to be removed, and that monks and nuns should have liberty to visit each the establishments of the other. While this talk proceeds, I occasionally glance into the smoky depths of the kitchen opposite, where a mysterious figure, in whose cleanliness I desire to believe, wafts a frying-pan across a dull fire, which he stimulates by fanning with a turkey's wing. After each of his gymnastics, a dish is brought out, and set upon our table--first fish, then omelet, then cutlet; and we discover that the Capuchin and ourselves have a mutual friend at Fuligno, the good, intelligent, accomplished Count ----, in whose praises each of us is eloquent. We part, exchanging names and addresses. Our Pompeian guide urges us to return and make the ascent of Vesuvius under his care. But we depart untrammelled. Every one was satisfied with us except the cripple who rolled himself in the dust, and the weird, white-haired women with spindles, who followed us shrieking for a largess. We gave nothing, and they commented upon us with a gravity of moral reprobation quite fit to make one's hair stand on end, even with New England versus beggar behind one. But the train came, and mercifully took us away; and whether in not giving we did well or ill, is a point upon which theorists will not agree; so we may be pardoned for giving ourselves the benefit of a doubt.
After Pompeii a little good fortune awaited us. As before said, we had encountered an American of the right sort,--kindly, sincere, and of adequate education. Joining forces with him, we no longer s.h.i.+vered before the hackman, nor shrank from the _valet de place_. We at once engaged the latter functionary, ordered the _remise_ of the hotel to wait for us, and started upon two days of eager but weary sight-seeing.
Our first joint act was to scale again the height of San Martino, this time to enter the church and convent, and view their boasted riches. A pleasant court, with a well in the centre of it; a church whose chapels and altars were gorgeous with lapis lazuli, jasper, agate, and all precious marbles; a row of seats in wooden mosaic, executed by a monk of the Cistercian order, vowed to silence; cloisters as s.p.a.cious and luxurious as can well be imagined; a great array of relics in golden boxes, s.h.i.+elded from dust and common sight by rich curtains of heavy silk and gold--this is all of the establishment that remains in our recollection. The present government has dismissed the saintly idlers of the monasteries, saying, perhaps, in the style of Henry VIII., ”Go plough, you drones, go plough.” But in what field and for what wages they henceforth labor is not known to me.
Hence to the Grotto of Siana, half a mile long, and some eight feet wide. The chill of this long, damp pa.s.sage, in contrast with the high temperature from which we entered it, so alarmed us that we turned back at half the distance, and gave up seeing the den or cave that lay beyond. At Pozzuoli we view Caligula's Bridge, of which but a few large stones remain: the guide points out the place at which Paul and Peter landed. Here are the ruins of a fine amphitheatre. The underground arrangements still show us the pits in which the wild beasts and the gladiators were kept. Square openings at the top ventilated each of these, and a long, open s.p.a.ce in the middle separated the cells of the beasts from those of the gladiators. On public occasions all of these openings were closed by heavy plates of metal, so as to present the solid surface desired for the combats.
”Arise, ye Goths, and glut your ire!”
In this neighborhood we visited what is left of the temple of Jupiter Serapis. The salt water formerly covered its columns to such a height as to corrode them badly. The smell caused by the evaporation of the sea-water in the hot sun was so offensive that the government found it necessary to apply a thorough drain. These time and tide worn marbles were of the choicest kinds--African marble, _rosso antico_, and so on.
Their former beauty little avails them now. We drive further to the cavern with the stratum of carbonic acid gas, and see the dog victimized, which cruel folly costs us two francs. And then we visit the sulphur vapor baths, whose fiery, volcanic breath frightens us.
These are near the Lake of Agnano, an ancient volcanic crater. In its neighborhood are the royal game preserves, in which fratricidal V. E.
hunts and slays the wild boar. Returning, we climb to Virgil's tomb, a small, empty enclosure, with a stone and inscription dating from 1840.
”Cecini pascua, rura, duces,”
says the poet, through his commemorator. Item, this steep journey under a scorching sun did not pay very well. Yet, having ascended the fiery stair, and stood in the small, dark enclosure, and read the tolerable inscription, I felt that I had done what I could to honor the great Mantuan: so, with a good conscience, I returned through cool, ill-smelling Posilippo, to the hotel, dinner, and the afternoon meditation.
BAJA.
The excursion to Baja called us up early in the morning. With a tender hush, a mysterious remembrance of our weaker and still sleeping brethren, we stole through the hotel, swallowed coffee, and issued forth with carriage and _valet de place_ for a day's campaigning. As the functionary just mentioned had invented a hitherto unpatented language, supposed by him to present some points of advantage over the Queen's English, I will here, _en pa.s.sant_, serve up a brief sample, for the study of those inclined to the practical pursuit of linguistics.
”Zat is ze leg Agnano [lake of.] In vinter he is full of vile dog [wild duck].” Of Lake Avernus: ”Zis was de helty [h.e.l.l].” Of the ruins of the amphitheatre at Pozzuoli: ”Ruin by de barbions [barbarians]. Zey brok him in piece and pushed him down. Zar is Caligole's [Caligula's] Bridge.
Tis de Sibyl's Cave, where she gib de ragle [oracle]. Temple Diana, temple Neptune, ze G.o.d of ze sea and ze G.o.d of ze land.” Here was a mythological _apercu_ thrown in. This individual rarely condescended to speak his native language--Italian. In ours, it required no little adjustment of the perceptive faculties to meet his views.
Pa.s.sing through Posilippo, we come first to a piece of ground which bears the form of an amphitheatre, although the whole structure, if it exist at all, is thickly overgrown with trees and shrubs. A rustic proprietor cultivates the vine here, but cannot pa.s.s the nights during July, August, and September, on account of the bad air. The wines, white and red, are nevertheless excellent. The right of excavation here vests in a Frenchman, who has purchased the same.
Our next point of exploration is the Temple of Mercury, at Baja--a circular building, with fine columns partly overthrown. Here exists a perfect whispering gallery, for at a certain spot in the wall the slightest utterance is instantly heard at the point directly opposite.
Here two forlorn women, with a tambourine and without costume, dance a joyless _tarantella_, which costs us a franc. They urge us, also, to buy sea-sh.e.l.ls, and small fragments of mosaic, together with skeletons of the sea-horse, a queer little fish, some two inches long. After this, we are shown some _columbaria_, and a bath with stucco reliefs. Adjacent is the well preserved ruin of a large bathing establishment. Besides the baths, we here find places for reclining, where vapor baths were probably enjoyed.
Now come Nero's prisons, gloomy, under-ground galleries, in which he kept his slaves. Torches here became necessary. These galleries, dest.i.tute of daylight, were quite extensive, frequently crossing each other at right angles. And then we visited the Piscina Mirabilis, an immense reservoir which formerly supplied the Roman fleet at Marina with fresh water. Its tall columns, still entire, are deeply corroded by water. This was a work of surprising extent and finish. Thereafter, mindful of Murder considered as a Fine Art, we gave some heed to the whereabouts of Agrippina's villa, and inquired concerning those matricidal attempts of her son, which were finally crowned with so entire a success. The villa of Hortensius, in this neighborhood, lies chiefly under water, the level of the ground having changed. Perhaps this villa was anciently built on ground reclaimed from the sea, as Horace says,--
”Marisque Baiis obstrepentis urges Summovere litora. Parum locuples continente ripa.”
We next visited the Lake of Avernus, and Lake Fusano, the River Styx of Virgil and the Romans. Bordering upon this we found a whole hill-side honeycombed with _columbaria_. Then came the long sulphurous gallery leading to the hot spring in which eggs are boiled for your instruction.
Each of these visitations has its fee, so that the pilgrimage, even if made on foot, would be a costly one. c.u.ma next claimed us. A long, dark gallery leads to the cave of the c.u.maean Sibyl, described by Virgil. But the presence of water here makes it necessary for visitors to sit upon the shoulders of two or three s.h.a.ggy and uncleanly-looking sprites. We stoutly decline this adventure, and are afterwards sorry. From this neighborhood was taken the c.u.maean collection, which figures at the _Museo n.a.z.ionale_, presented by the Prince of Carignano. Somewhere in the course of this crowded and heated day, a dinner was slidden in, which gave our labor a brief interval of rest and refreshment. It consisted mostly of dirt, in various forms, flavored with cheese, garlic, and a variety of savors equally choice. To facilitate its consumption, we drank a sour-sweet fluid, called white Capri. I found none of the Italian wines joyous. Despite their want of body, they give one's nerves a decided shake.
Well, I have narrated all that took place on the day set apart for Baja.