peculiarly of the African caste and tincture. After we passed Pompeii,
where the continued severity of the weather did not permit us, according
to our purpose, to take another survey, we saw in the adjacent village
between us and Portici the scene of two assassinations, still kept in
remembrance. The one I believe was from the motive of plunder. The head
of the assassin was set up after his execution upon a pillar, which
still exists, and it remained till the skull rotted to pieces. The other
was a story less in the common style, and of a more interesting
character: - A farmer of an easy fortune, and who might be supposed to
leave to his daughter, a very pretty girl and an only child, a fortune
thought in the village very considerable. She was, under the hope of
sharing such a prize, made up to by a young man in the neighbourhood,
handsome, active, and of a very good general character. He was of that
sort of person who are generally successful among women, and the girl
was supposed to have encouraged his addresses; but her father, on being
applied to, gave him a direct and positive refusal. The gallant resolved
to continue his addresses in hopes of overcoming this obstacle by his
perseverance, but the father's opposition seemed only to increase by the
lover's pertinacity. At length, as the father walked one evening smoking
his pipe upon the terrace before his door, the lover unhappily passed
by, and, struck with the instant thought that the obstacle to the
happiness of his life was now entirely in his own power, he rushed upon
the father, pierced him with three mortal stabs of his knife, and killed
him dead on the spot, and made his escape to the mountains. What was
most remarkable was that he was protected against the police, who went,
as was their duty, in quest of him, by the inhabitants of the
neighbourhood, who afforded him both shelter and such food as he
required, looking on him less as a wilful criminal than an unfortunate
man, who had been surprised by a strong and almost irresistible
temptation. So congenial, at this moment, is the love of vengeance to an
Italian bosom, and though chastised in general by severe punishment, so
much are criminals sympathised with by the community.
_March_ 20. - I went with Miss Talbot and Mr. Lushington and his sister
to the great and celebrated church of San Domenico Maggiore, which is
the most august of the Dominican churches. They once possessed eighteen
shrines in this part of Naples. It contains the tomb of St. Thomas
Aquinas, and also the tombs of the royal family, which remain in the
vestry. There are some large boxes covered with yellow velvet which
contain their remains, and which stand ranged on a species of shelf,
formed by the heads of a set of oaken presses which contain the
vestments of the monks. The pictures of the kings are hung above their
respective boxes, containing their bones, without any other means of
preserving them. At the bottom of the lofty and narrow room is the
celebrated Marquis di [Pescara], one of Charles V.'s most renowned
generals, who commanded at the battle of Pavia.... The church itself is
very large and extremely handsome, with many fine marble tombs in a very
good style of architecture. The time being now nearly the second week in
Lent, the church was full of worshippers.
[While at Naples Sir Walter wrote frequently to his daughter, to
Mr. Cadell, Mr. Laidlaw, and Mr. Lockhart. The latter says, "Some
of these letters were of a very melancholy cast; for the dream
about his debts being all settled was occasionally broken." One may
be given here. It is undated, but was written some time after
receiving the news of the death of his little grandson, and shows
the tender relations which existed between Sir Walter and his
son-in-law: -
MY DEAR LOCKHART, - I have written with such regularity that ... I
will not recur to this painful subject. I hope also I have found
you both persuaded that the best thing you can do, both of you, is
to come out here, where you would find an inestimable source of
amusement, many pleasant people, and living in very peaceful and
easy society. I wrote you a full account of my own matters, but I
have now more complete [information]. I am ashamed, for the first
time in my life, of the two novels, but since the pensive public
have taken them, there is no more to be said but to eat my pudding
and to hold my tongue. Another thing of great interest requires to
be specially mentioned. You may remember a work in which our dear
and accomplished friend Lady Louisa condescended to take an oar,
and which she has handled most admirably. It is a supposed set of
extracts relative to James VI. from a collection in James VI.'s
time, the costume (?) admirably preserved, and, like the
fashionable wigs, more natural than one's own hair. This, with the
Lives of the Novelists and some other fragments of my wreck, went
ashore in Constable's, and were sold off to the highest bidder,
viz., to Cadell, for himself and me. I wrote one or two fragments
in the same style, which I wish should, according to original
intention, appear without a name, and were they fairly lightly let
off there is no fear of their making a blaze. I sent the whole
packet either to yourself or Cadell, with the request. The copy,
which I conclude is in your hands by the time this reaches you,
might be set up as speedily and quietly as possible, taking some
little care to draw the public attention to you, and consulting
Lady Louisa about the proofs. The fun is that our excellent friend
had forgot the whole affair till I reminded her of her kindness,
and was somewhat inclined, like Lady Teazle, to deny the butler and
the coach-horse. I have no doubt, however, she will be disposed to
bring the matter to an end. The mode of publication I fancy you
will agree should rest with Cadell. So, providing that the copy
come to hand, which it usually does, though not very regularly, you
will do me the kindness to get it out. My story of Malta will be
with you by the time you have finished the Letters, and if it
succeeds it will in a great measure enable me to attain the long
projected and very desirable object of clearing me from all old
encumbrances and expiring as rich a man as I could desire in my own
freehold. And when you recollect that this has been wrought out in
six years, the sum amounting to at least £120,000, it is somewhat
of a novelty in literature. I shall be as happy and rich as I
please for the last days of my life, and play the good papa with
my family without thinking on pounds, shillings, and pence. Cadell,
with so fair a prospect before him, is in high spirits, as you will
suppose, but I had a most uneasy time from the interruption of our
correspondence. However, thank God, it is all as well as I could
wish, and a great deal better than I ventured to hope. After the
Siege of Malta I intend to close the [series] of _Waverley_ with a
poem in the style of the _Lay_, or rather of the _Lady of the
Lake_, to be a L'Envoy, or final postscript to these tales. The
subject is a curious tale of chivalry belonging to Rhodes. Sir
Frederick Adam will give me a cast of a steam-boat to visit Greece,
and you will come and go with me. We live in a Palazzo, which with
a coach and the supporters thereof does not, table included, cost
£120 or £130 a month. So you will add nothing to our expenses, but
give us the great pleasure of assisting you when I fear literary
things have a bad time. We will return to Europe through Germany,
and see what peradventure we shall behold. I have written
repeatedly to you on this subject, for you would really like this
country extremely. You cannot tread on it but you set your foot
upon some ancient history, and you cannot make scruple, as it is
the same thing whether you or I are paymaster. My health continues
good, and bettering, as the Yankees say. I have gotten a choice
manuscript of old English Romances, left here by Richard, and for
which I know I have got a lad can copy them at a shilling a day.
The King has granted me liberty to carry it home with me, which is
very good-natured. I expect to secure something for the Roxburghe
Club. Our posts begin to get more regular. I hope dear baby is
getting better of its accident, poor soul. - Love to Sophia and
Walter.
Your affectionate Father,
WALTER SCOTT.]
FOOTNOTES:
[520] Of this visit to Pompeii Sir W. Gell says - "Sir Walter viewed the
whole with a poet's eye, not that of an antiquarian, exclaiming
frequently, 'The city of the Dead!'"
He examined, however, with more interest the "splendid mosaic
representing a combat of the Greeks and the Persians." - _Life_, vol. x.
p. 159.
[521] The places are now known as Nocera Superiore and Nocera Inferiore.
APRIL.
_April 15, Naples_. - I am on the eve of leaving Naples after a residence
of three or four months, my strength strongly returning, though the
weather has been very uncertain. What with the interruption occasioned
by the cholera and other inconveniences, I have not done much. I have
sent home only the letters by L.L. Stuart and three volumes of the Siege
of Malta. I sent them by Lord Cowper's son - Mr. Cowper returning, his
leave being out - and two chests of books by the Messrs. Turner, Malta,
who are to put them on board a vessel, to be forwarded to Mr. Cadell
through Whittaker. I have hopes they will come to hand safe. I have
bought a small closing carriage, warranted new and English, cost me
£200, for the convenience of returning home. It carries Anne, Charles,
and the two servants, and we start to-morrow morning for Rome, after
which we shall be starting homeward, for the Greek scheme is blown up,
as Sir Frederick Adam is said to be going to Madras, so he will be
unable to send a frigate as promised. I have spent on the expenses of
medical persons and books, etc., a large sum, yet not excessive.
Meantime we [may] have to add a curious journey of it. The brigands, of
whom there are so many stories, are afloat once more, and many carriages
stopped. A curious and popular work would be a history of these
ruffians. Washington Irving has attempted something of the kind, but
the person attempting this should be an Italian, perfectly acquainted
with his country, character, and manners. Mr. R - - , an apothecary, told
me a singular [occurrence] which happened in Calabria about six years
ago, and which I may set down just now as coming from a respectable
authority, though I do not [vouch it].
* * * * *
DEATH OF IL BIZARRO.
This man was called, from his wily but inexorable temper, Il Bizarro,
_i.e._ the Bizar. He was captain of a gang of banditti, whom he governed
by his own authority, till he increased them to 1000 men, both on foot
and horseback, whom he maintained in the mountains of Calabria, between
the French and Neapolitans, both of which he defied, and pillaged the
country. High rewards were set upon his head, to very little purpose, as
he took care to guard himself against being betrayed by his own gang,
the common fate of those banditti who become great in their vocation. At
length a French colonel, whose name I have forgot, occupied the country
of Bizarro, with such success that he formed a cordon around him and his
party, and included him between the folds of a military column.
Well-nigh driven to submit himself, the robber with his wife, a very
handsome woman, and a child of a few months old, took a position beneath
the arch of an old bridge, and, by an escape almost miraculous, were not
perceived by a strong party whom the French maintained on the top of the
arch. Night at length came without a discovery, which every moment might
have made. When it became quite dark, the brigand, enjoining strictest
silence on the female and child, resolved to steal from his place of
shelter, and as they issued forth, kept his hand on the child's throat.
But as, when they began to move, the child naturally cried, its father
in a rage stiffened his grip so relentlessly that the poor infant never
offended more in the same manner. This horrid [act] led to the
conclusion of the robber's life.
His wife had never been very fond of him, though he trusted her more
than any who approached him. She had been originally the wife of another
man, murdered by her second husband, which second marriage she was
compelled to undergo, and to affect at least the conduct of an
affectionate wife. In their wanderings she alone knew where he slept for
the night. He left his men in a body upon the top of an open hill, round
which they set watches. He then went apart into the woods with his wife,
and having chosen a glen - an obscure and deep thicket of the woods,
there took up his residence for the night. A large Calabrian sheepdog,
his constant attendant, was then tied to a tree at some distance to
secure his slumbers, and having placed his carabine within reach of his
lair, he consigned himself to such sleep as belongs to his calling. By
such precautions he had secured his rest for many years.
But after the death of the child, the measure of his offence towards the
unhappy mother was full to the brim, and her thoughts became determined
on revenge. One evening he took up his quarters for the night with these
precautions, but without the usual success. He had laid his carabine
near him, and betaken himself to rest as usual, when his partner arose
from his side, and ere he became sensible she had done so, she seized
[his carabine], and discharging [it] in his bosom, ended at once his
life and crimes. She finished her work by cutting off the brigand's
head, and carrying it to the principal town of the province, where she
delivered it to the police, and claimed the reward attached to his head,
which was paid accordingly. This female still lives, a stately,
dangerous-looking woman, yet scarce ill thought of, considering the
provocation.
The dog struggled extremely to get loose on hearing the shot. Some say
the female shot it; others that, in its rage, it very nearly gnawed
through the stout young tree to which it was tied. He was worthy of a
better master.
The distant encampment of the band was disturbed by the firing of the
Bizarro's carabine at midnight. They ran through the woods to seek the
captain, but finding him lifeless and headless, they became so much
surprised that many of them surrendered to the government, and
relinquished their trade, and the band of Bizarro, as it lived by his
ingenuity, broke up by his death.
A story is told nearly as horrible as the above, respecting the cruelty
of this bandit, which seems to entitle him to be called one of the most
odious wretches of his name. A French officer, who had been active in
the pursuit of him, fell into his hands, and was made to die [the death]
of Marsyas or Saint Polycarp - that is, the period being the middle of
summer, he was flayed alive, and, being smeared with honey, was exposed
to all the intolerable insects of a southern sky. The corps were also
informed where they might find their officer if they thought proper to
send for him. As more than two days elapsed before the wretched man was
found, nothing save his miserable relics could be discovered.
I do not warrant these stories, but such are told currently.
[_Tour from Naples to Rome_], _April_ 16. - Having remained several
months at Naples, we resolved to take a tour to Rome during the Holy
Week and view the ecclesiastical shows which take place, although
diminished in splendour by the Pope's poverty. So on the 15th we set out
from Naples, my children unwell. We passed through the Champ de
Mars,[522] and so on by the Terra di Lavoro, a rich and fertile country,
and breakfasted at St. Agatha, a wretched place, but we had a
disagreeable experience. I had purchased a travelling carriage, assured
that it was English-built and all that. However, when we were half a
mile on our journey, a bush started and a wheel came off, but by dint of
contrivances we fought our way back to Agatha, where we had a miserable
lodging and wretched dinner. The people were civil, however, and no
bandits abroad, being kept in awe by the escort of the King of
Westphalia,[523] who was on his road to Naples. The wheel was
effectually repaired, and at seven in the morning we started with some
apprehension of suffering from crossing the very moist marshes called
the Pontine Bogs, which lie between Naples and Rome. This is not the
time when these exhalations are most dangerous, though they seem to be
safe at no time. We remarked the celebrated Capua, which is
distinguished into the new and old. The new Capua is on the banks of the
river Volturno, which conducts its waters into the moats. It is still a
place of some strength in modern war. The approach to the old Capua is
obstructed by an ancient bridge of a singular construction, and consists
of a number of massive towers half ruined. We did not pass very near to
them, but the site seems very strong. We passed Sinuessa or Sessa, an
ancient Greek town, situated not far from shore. The road from Naples to
Capua resembles an orchard on both sides, but, alas! it runs through
these infernal marshes, which there is no shunning, and which the
example of many of my friends proves to be exceeding dangerous. The
road, though it has the appearance of winding among hills, is in fact,
on the left side, limited by the sea-coast running northward. It comes
into its more proper line at a celebrated sea-marsh called Cameria,[524]
concerning which the oracle said "_Ne moveas Camarinam_," and the
transgression of which precept brought on a pestilence. The road here
is a wild pass bounded by a rocky precipice; on one hand covered with
wild shrubs, flowers, and plants, and on the other by the sea. After
this we came to a military position, where Murat used to quarter a body
of troops and cannonade the English gunboats, which were not slow in
returning the compliment. The English then garrisoned Italy and Sicily
under Sir [John Stuart]. We supped at this place, half fitted up as a
barrack, half as an inn. (The place is now called Terracina.) Near this
a round tower is shown, termed the tomb of Cicero, which may be doubted.
I ought, before quitting Terracina, to have mentioned the view of the
town and castle of Gaeta from the Pass. It is a castle of great
strength. I should have mentioned Aversa, remarkable for a house for
insane persons, on the humane plan of not agitating their passions.
After a long pilgrimage on this beastly road we fell asleep in spite of
warnings to the contrary, and before we beat the _reveille_ were within
twenty miles of the city of Rome. I think I felt the effects of the bad
air and damp in a very bad headache.
After a steep climb up a slippery ill-paved road Velletri received us,
and accommodated us in an ancient villa or château, the original
habitation of an old noble. I would have liked much to have taken a look
at it; but I am tired by my ride. I fear my time for such researches is
now gone. Monte Albano, a pleasant place, should also be mentioned,
especially a forest of grand oaks, which leads you pretty directly into
the vicinity of Rome. My son Charles had requested the favour of our
friend Sir William Gell to bespeak a lodging, which, considering his bad
health, was scarcely fair. My daughter had imposed the same favour, but
they had omitted to give precise direction how to correspond with their
friends concerning the execution of their commission. So there we were,
as we had reason to think, possessed of two apartments and not knowing
the [way] to any of them. We entered Rome by a gate[525] renovated by
one of the old Pontiffs, but which, I forget, and so paraded the streets
by moonlight to discover, if possible, some appearance of the learned
Sir William Gell or the pretty Mrs. Ashley. At length we found our old
servant who guided us to the lodgings taken by Sir William Gell, where
all was comfortable, a good fire included, which our fatigue and the
chilliness of the night required. We dispersed as soon as we had taken
some food, wine, and water.
We slept reasonably, but on the next morning
FINIS
FOOTNOTES:
[522] _Paese dei Marsi_ or _Marsica_.
[523] Jerome Bonaparte, ex-King of Westphalia.
[524] The sea marsh "Cameria" is not indicated in the latest maps of
Italy, but it would appear that some such name in the Pontine Bogs had
recalled to Sir Walter the ancient proverb relating to Camarina, that
Sicilian city on the marsh "which Fate forbad to drain." - Conington's
_Virgil (Æn._ iii. 700-1).
[525] Porta St. Giovanni, rebuilt by Gregory XIII. in 1574.
APPENDIX
No. II.
_Letter from Mr. Carlyle referred to in_ vol. ii. p. 160.[526]
EDINBURGH, 21 COMELY BANK, _13th April_ 1828.
SIR, - In February last I had the honour to receive a letter from Von
Goethe, announcing the speedy departure, from Weimar, of a Packet for
me, in which, among other valuables, should be found "two medals," to be
delivered "_mit verbindlichsten Grüssen"_ to Sir Walter Scott. By a slow
enough conveyance this _Kästchen_, with its medals in perfect safety,
has at length yesterday come to hand, and now lays on me the enviable
duty of addressing you.
Among its multifarious contents, the Weimar Box failed not to include a
long letter - considerable portion of which, as it virtually belongs to
yourself, you will now allow me to transcribe. Perhaps it were thriftier
in me to reserve this for another occasion; but considering how seldom
such a Writer obtains such a Critic, I cannot but reckon it pity that
this friendly intercourse between them should be anywise delayed.
"Sehen Sie Herrn Walter Scott, so sagen Sie ihm auf das
verbindlichste in meinem Namen Dank für den lieben heitern Brief,
gerade in dem schönen Sinne geschrieben, dass der Mensch dem
Menschen werth seyn müsse. So auch habe ich dessen Leben Napoleon's
erhalten und solches in diesen Winterabenden und Nächten von Anfang
bis zu Ende mit Aufmerksamkeit durchgelesen.
"Mir war höchst bedeutend zu sehen, wie sich der erste Erzähler des
Jahrhunderts einem so ungemeinen Geschäft unterzieht und uns die
überwichtigen Begebenheiten, deren Zeuge zu seyn wir gezwungen
wurden, in fertigem Zuge vorüberführt. Die Abtheilung durch Capitel
in grosse zusammengehörige Massen giebt den verschlungenen
Ereignissen die reinste Fasslichkeit, und so wird dann auch der
Vortrag des Einzelnen auf das unschätzbarste deutlich und
anschaulich.
"Ich las es im Original, und da wirkte es ganz eigentlich seiner
Natur nach. Es ist ein patriotischer Britte der spricht, der die
Handlungen des Feindes nicht wohl mit günstigen Augen ansehen kann,
der als ein rechtlicher Staatsbürger zugleich mit den
Unternehmungen der Politik auch die Forderungen der Sittlichkeit
befriedigt wünscht, der den Gegner, im frechen Laufe des Glücks,
mit unseligen Folgen bedroht, und auch im bittersten Verfall ihn
kaum bedauern kann.
"Und so war mir noch ausserdem das Werk von der grössten Bedeutung,
indem es mich an das Miterlebte theils erinnerte, theils mir
manches Uebersehene nun vorführte, mich auf einem unerwarteten
Standpunkt versetzte, mir zu erwägen gab was ich für abgeschlossen
hielt, und besonders auch mich befähigte die Gegner dieses
wichtigen Werkes, an denen es nicht fehlen kann, zu beurtheilen und
die Einwendungen, die sie von ihrer Seite vortragen, zu würdigen.
Sie sehen hieraus dass zu Ende des Jahres keine höhere Gabe hätte
zu mir gelangen können. Es ist dieses Werk mir zu einem goldenen
Netz geworden, womit ich die Schattenbilder meines vergangenen
Lebens aus den Lethes-Fluthen mit reichem Zuge herauszuforschen
mich beschäftige.
"Ungefähr dasselbige denke ich in dem nächsten Stücke von _Kunst
und Alterthum_ zu sagen."
With regard to the medals, which are, as I expected, the two well-known
likenesses of Goethe himself, it could be no hard matter to dispose of
them safely here, or transmit them to you, if you required it, without
delay: but being in this curious fashion appointed as it were Ambassador