Constantino Brumidi, Italian Refugee
It was late afternoon. The House of Representatives Chamber in the Capitol Building of the United States was deserted, save for one lone figure that stood motionless before the freshly painted mural on the south wall. Everything about this man in long black cape and close fitting beret betokened pride and triumph in achievement—the tense erectness of the body, the tilt of the head, the glow of the cheek and even the angle at which he held his pallet and brush. Suddenly, with strength and determination he said aloud, “I’ll do it,” then he rushed back to the picture, bent possessively over the lower right hand corner and began painting with quick, deft movements. When the lonely figure finally left the Chamber he seemed so satisfied with his work that he never once looked back.
Eighty years later as I stood before that mural on the south wall of our House of Representatives Chamber—that portrayal of a crisis in American history, representing Washington at Yorktown, I beheld for the first time the words in the lower right hand corner, left by that proud painter back in 1857, “C. Brumidi, artist. Citizen of the U. S.” Suddenly I asked myself, “Who is this C. Brumidi who has so much pride in his adopted country as to paint a portion of its Revolutionary history on the wall of the House of Representatives Chamber, and who glories so much in the citizenship of his adopted country that he emblazons that sentiment forever before the Congress of the United States?” I had no thought at that moment that those words inscribed on the wall of the Capitol Building of the United States by Constantino Brumidi could well be considered his epitaph, for he had no other, expressed in words. And of course I was unaware of the bitter criticism that followed his every effort. But I am ahead of my story.
So much did I want to see what this lover of America had done for his adopted country by way of decorating our Capitol Building, that I searched out every frescoed wall and ceiling, every painted panel, lunette, or medallion in committee rooms, corridors and Rotunda that were attributed to the Italian artist. As the number of those paintings mounted in my tabulations and as the beauty of his decorations sank into my consciousness, I decided he must have spent a lifetime in America for surely it would take a lifetime for such accomplishment. Then I learned that Brumidi came from Italy to America when he was almost fifty years old!
From meager biographical data the following additional facts came quickly to light: Brumidi was born in Italy in 1805, grew up in Rome, was admitted to the Academy of Arts in that city when only thirteen years old, and at the age of about thirty-five “restored some paintings in the Sacred Palaces to the full satisfaction of Pope Gregory XVIth.”
About all that is known of the artist’s next twenty years is that he became involved in “the French occupation of Rome in the year 1849 for the suppression of Republican institutions,” and when his friend, Pope Pius IX, was banished from Rome Brumidi was thrown into prison for fourteen months. As Captain of the Papal Guard Brumidi had refused to obey certain orders against his friends which resulted in the enmity of Cardinal Antonelli, Minister of State. Pope Pius IX was finally restored to the Vatican but he was unable to save Brumidi except on condition that the artist would flee the country and never return. Finally, to save his own life, Brumidi was forced to leave Italy. He reached America in 1852.
While the above facts concerning Brumidi were much the same in the few available references in the Library of Congress, stories of Brumidi’s life in America and of his services to the United States seemed to vary with the enthusiasm or bias of the narrator. Certain conflicting statements centered about the merit and authenticity of his paintings; the genuineness of his American patriotism; the amount of money paid him for the paintings in the Capitol Building; the loyalty of the artist’s family; the appreciation of the American people; and the poverty of the artist at the time of his death. For the most part, however, little has been written and less has been publicly known about the artist who spent his last twenty-five years in devoted effort toward beautifying the Capitol Building of the United States.
The most sympathetic appraisals of Brumidi’s art and his years in America have been done by Charles E. Fairman, Smith D. Fry, George C. Hazelton, Randolph Keim, and S. D. Wyeth. Mr. Wyeth wrote a small pamphlet of six pages in 1866 on “Brumidi’s Allegorical Painting within the Canopy of the Rotunda.” That was the year after Brumidi had finished the huge canopy fresco in the Dome of the Capitol Building. The author was so intent upon the allegorical interpretation of the figures in the Dome canopy that he almost forgot the artist and his art. He did, however, refer to Brumidi in this manner, “Brumidi has been mainly engaged for years in ornamenting various portions of the walls of the Capitol, and his name will ever be associated with the history and beauty of our world renowned National building.”
Since the Rotunda scaffolding, from which Brumidi worked on the Dome canopy, was removed in January 1866 and the magnificent fresco was then lighted and displayed for the first time to the public, we have every reason to believe that Wyeth’s six pages of allegorical explanations of that huge fresco, printed the same year, were direct from Brumidi’s own carefully planned allegories.
The tiny book entitled, “Keim’s Capitol Interior and Diagrams” was published in 1874. Since its stated purpose was “to furnish the visitor to the Capitol with complete and reliable plans and diagrams, with reference to and accurate descriptions of all objects of interest within the building,” it made no effort to evaluate the Brumidi paintings but it did give a comprehensive record throughout as to the location of Brumidi’s work. Most of the Brumidi frescoes, oils, and decorative portions can still be identified by the Keim references but some are evidently gone forever, while others undoubtedly are merely covered by the wall board or artificial ceiling panels of later renovations.
In George C. Hazelton’s book, “The National Capitol,” printed in 1897, and dealing with “The Architecture, Art and History of the National Capitol,” we find Brumidi a bit more appreciatively treated. Said Hazelton, “No higher compliment could be paid to his genius than the expression of a group of artists who were decorating the new building for the Congressional Library. When they visited the Capitol to study the frescoes of the Italian, they said, ‘We have nothing equal to this in the Library. There is no one who can do such work today.’” Then Hazelton continued, “Brumidi’s work so identifies him with the Capitol Building that he may almost now be called the Michelangelo of the Capitol.”
In “Fry’s Patriotic Story of the Capitol,” a booklet published in 1912, the author refers repeatedly to Brumidi in such an intimate way as to lead the reader to believe that Smith D. Fry must have known Brumidi personally and must have loved the artist genuinely. Since Mr. Fry graduated from law school the year the artist died it is not impossible that the two were personally acquainted. In the following Fry quotation there is evidence to support this view and the human touch to the biographical sketch may have come direct from the artist himself. Mr. Fry wrote,
“When about forty years of age, Brumidi threw away his brush and his great career, declaring that he would never paint another stroke until he had found liberty. Because of an indignity suffered by a member of his family he became a revolutionary soldier and fought in vain for liberty. When almost fifty years old he was banished from Italy and came to America. Here he found liberty and became an intensely patriotic citizen.”
Mr. Fry then gives a direct quotation from the artist himself. This is unique, being the only direct quotation from Brumidi passed on in this manner. Said Mr. Fry, “When Brumidi’s merit was disclosed (in America) fame and fortune sought him. Thousands of dollars were his for the taking. He refused all allurements in these words, ‘I have no longer any desire for fame or fortune. My one ambition and my daily prayer is that I may live long enough to make beautiful the Capitol of the one country on earth in which there is liberty.’”
Charles E. Fairman, art curator of the Capitol for thirty-two years, compiled during that time valuable records on the “Art and Artists of the Capitol of the United States of America.” Mr. Fairman was born in 1854 about the time Brumidi began his decorations of the Capitol Building. Although Mr. Fairman did not begin his own work at the Capitol Building until 1911 it is entirely possible that as a young man he had occasion to watch Brumidi at work. While Mr. Fairman maintains an impersonal attitude in his treatment of Brumidi, his record is invaluable as proof of the authenticity of certain Brumidi frescoes and paintings.
The whole colossal piece of research so carefully assembled by Mr. Fairman and printed in 1927 contained the best summary of documentary material available on Constantino Brumidi. Since Mr. Fairman’s book covered all art and artists in any manner having connection with the Capitol Building the parts devoted to Brumidi and his murals occupy a not too prominent division of the book. However, Mr. Fairman’s combined references to Constantino Brumidi are of great service to one making a more extended study of the Capitol muralist.
The Daily Evening Telegraph of Philadelphia announced Brumidi’s death in its issue of February 19, 1880. On the following day this same paper carried a lengthy article purporting to be an evaluation of the Brumidi frescoes. So scathing and crude was the criticism by this anonymous writer, even before the old artist had been buried, that one senses instinctively that this same type of critical carping had no doubt been stalking Brumidi from other sources during a period of years. The following quotation is a glaring example of this unjust criticism:
“...Of Brumidi, the frescoer of the Capitol at Washington, whose death was announced yesterday, it may be said, ‘He was most industrious.’ If hard work always represents a value given and received, the industrious Brumidi could be put down as having fairly earned the large sums which must have been paid him out of the public treasury. But, if the quality of his work is considered, we doubt whether those who are at all competent to judge with regard to the matter will differ among themselves as to the fact that his employment for a long term of years, in the face of repeated and emphatic protests from people who knew what good decoration was, was most scandalous.
“...He was permitted to paint on the interior of the dome a composition which, both in design and execution, is about as abominable as anything of that kind well could be. Now that he is dead and out of the way, let us hope that something like a serious effort will be made to have his place filled by an artist who is an artist, and who has some claims to consideration other than that of being skilled in the fresco process.”
On that same day, Friday, February 20, 1880, another reporter, this time for the Washington Post in the Capital City, told of the death and life of Brumidi with a show of sympathetic appreciation. A portion of this article follows:
Death of a Great Artist
“Constantino Brumidi, the artist, died yesterday morning at his residence, 921 G Street, at 6:30 o’clock. For months past he has been failing, but until within two weeks has been able to work every day in his studio, and was dressed and sat up each day until the one preceding his death. For a fortnight he has been failing rapidly. The last twenty-four hours before his death he was unconscious, but at the last moment he recognized those around him. The funeral will be attended from the house on Saturday. Mr. Brumidi leaves no family in this city except an adopted son, who bears his name and has adopted his father’s profession.
“Almost until the last hour he continued his work on the frescoes in the dome of the Capitol, though compelled to sit instead of standing, his hand and eye were as true and strong as ever, and the work from that point on shows no loss in spirit or excellence of execution. For months the little scaffold that clings to the wall in mid air under the dome of the Capitol has been deserted, and curious strangers, looking at the neglected cartoons hanging over the railings have been told that Brumidi would never come back to finish his frescoes. It was the dream of his life that he should come back. He wanted with his own hand to lead that historic procession round the dome till the encircling frieze should be complete. Of late, as growing infirmities have pressed upon him, he has gradually abandoned the hope and occupied himself in enlarging his original cartoons to working size, so that any artist might complete the work by simply following copy.—He lies in the pleasant parlor studio of his house, in death as in life, with his work about him. Half-finished designs are sketched on the walls, and busts and statuettes fill the corners; canvas and palette are on the easel.”
In the Senate of the United States on February 24, 1880, four days after the burial of Brumidi, two speeches were made in reference to the artist, one by Senator Voorhees of Indiana, and another by Senator Morrill of Vermont. Senator Voorhees eulogized Brumidi in this manner:
“May I not be pardoned some brief mention of the wonderful genius, so long, so gently, and so beautifully associated with this Capitol? He died poor, without money enough to bury his worn-out body, but how rich the inheritance he has left to the present and succeeding ages! During more than a quarter of a century he hovered along these walls from the basement to the Dome, leaving creations of imperishable beauty wherever his touch has been. Wherever he paused by a panel, or was seen suspended to a ceiling, there soon appeared the brilliant conceptions of his fertile and cultivated mind. We can form no correct idea of the extent, the variety, and the perfection of his taste and skill as an artist without sometimes forgetting our pressing cares, as we look in detail over his field of labor.”
Senator Morrill spoke of the artist in these words of friendship and understanding:
“Covering as he has done so much space with his fresco paintings—so difficult and so durable—it is wonderful that so great a part should be fairly excellent and so little that competent critics esteem otherwise. If he has not attempted the ambitious role of the old masters on the walls and ceilings of churches, it may be at least said that his hand has rarely touched anything which it has not decorated. Even after that accident by which his life hung many minutes fearfully imperiled under the Dome of the Capitol, his latest work there, unfinished though it be, shows that his hand had not lost its cunning, and his acquaintance with American history and skill in its portrayal has, perhaps, never been more happily displayed.
“Those who have, without any special intimacy, barely seen this poor and quiet old man as he slowly passed and repassed to his daily tasks or who have but for a moment listened to his speech in broken English, and never heard his glib tongue when he met those with whom he could converse in his native language, will hardly comprehend his merits as a severe student in the art to which he had devoted his whole life, still less will they be inclined to credit the rapid and correct drawing of which he was undoubtedly a master; but the evidences of his rare genius and of swift work are too conspicuous to be denied. We have only to look around to behold them all.
“Brumidi was a diligent reader of Dante, of Gibbon, of Bancroft, and many other works from which he derived his historical and classical aid and his great desire was that he might live to complete his last great work. So long had he devoted his heart and strength to this Capitol that his love and reverence for it was not surpassed by even that of Michael Angelo for St. Peter’s.”