June 1st, 1830
Yesterday news came of the change in the French Ministry,9 of which La Ferronays knew nothing the night before, and from which Dalberg anticipates an increase of desperate measures on the part of the Court. Went in the morning to Gibson’s; in the evening to the Orti Sallustiani, one of the many objects here not worth seeing, though they show two great holes in a wall, which they call the Campo Scelerato, and they say it is the place where the frail vestals were buried. Coming back we met the Pope taking a drive—two coaches-and-four, with guards and outriders. We got out of the carriage and took off our hats, and our laquais de place dropped on his knees. The Pope was in white, two people sitting opposite to him, and as he passed he scattered a blessing. All persons kneel when he appears—that is, all Catholics. The equipage was not brilliant. To the Corsini Villa, the gardens of which are some of the shadiest and most agreeable in Rome, but nobody inhabits the palace. The Corsinis live at Florence, and when they come here they lodge elsewhere, for the malaria, they say, occupies their domain. Thus it is that between poverty and malaria Rome is deserted by its great men. But the population ought to be increasing, for almost every woman one meets is with child. Gell denies the malaria, says he SAN LORENZO IN LUCINA should not mind living where they say it is dangerous to live; but can this be matter of opinion?
In the evening looked into the Church and Piazza of San Lorenzo in Lucina. The church is hung with drapery, adorned with statues, and illuminated by innumerable wax candles. The piazza is illuminated too, and drapery hung out from the windows. There were crowds of people, lines of chairs, and boys bawling to the people to come and sit upon them; others selling lemonade, others the life and exploits of the saint on penny papers; a band of military music on a scaffolding, and guards patrolling about. Between the intervals of the band the bells, in discordant chorus, regaled ‘the ears of the groundlings.’ This strange, discordant scene, the foundation of which is religious, but which has but little of the appearance of religion in it, lasts eight successive days, and costs a vast sum of money—they say 9,000 scudi—the greatest part of which is furnished by the Government. It probably answers some end, for it is difficult to conceive that any Government, even this, should spend money, of which they have so little to spare, on these fooleries while poverty overspreads the land. This ceremony has not taken place before for a hundred years. The sight is certainly very gay. Close by, in the Palazzo Mani, is a theatre of marionettes, who play a comedy of Goldoni. The Duke Fiani lets part of his palace for this purpose. What an exhibition of wretchedness! He reserves a box which his servants let to anybody, whether on his account or their own I don’t know.
Evening.—Went before dinner to the Villa Madama, a ruined villa belonging to the royal house of Naples, with fine paintings still on the walls and ceilings, the vestiges of former luxury, and a capital view of Rome, the Tiber, the Milvian Bridge, and the mountains. After dinner to the San Gregorio to see the frescoes, the ‘Martyrdom of St. Andrew,’ the rival frescoes of Guido and Domenichino, and afterwards drove about till dark, when we went to a most extraordinary performance—that of the Flagellants. I had heard of it, and had long been curious to assist at it. The church was dimly lit by a few candles on the altar, the congregation not numerous. There was a service, the people making the responses, after which a priest, or one of the attendants of the church, went round with a bundle of whips of knotted cord, and gave one to each person who chose to take it. I took mine, but my companion laughed so at seeing me gravely accept the whip, that he was obliged to hide his face in his hands, and was passed over. In a few minutes the candles were extinguished, and we were left in total darkness. Then an invisible preacher began exhorting his hearers to whip themselves severely, and as he went on his vehemence and passion increased. Presently a loud smacking was heard all round the church, which continued a few minutes; then the preacher urged us to fresh exertions, and crack went the whips again louder and faster than before as he exhorted. The faithful flogged till a bell rang; the whips stopped, in a few minutes the candles were lit again, and the priest came round and collected his cords. I had squeezed mine in my hands, so that he did not see it, and I brought it away with me. As soon as the candles were extinguished the doors were locked, so that nobody could go out or come in till the discipline was over. I was rather nervous when we were locked up in total darkness, but nobody whipped me, and I certainly did not whip myself. A more extraordinary thing (for sight it can’t be called) I never witnessed. I don’t think the people stripped, nor, if they did, that the cords could have hurt them much. From thence to St. Peter’s, where we found the quarant’ ore and the high altar illuminated with heaps of candles. Only a few lights scattered at a great distance through the rest of the church, very few people there; but the dim light, the deep shades, the vast space, and the profound stillness were sublime. Certainly nothing in the world can approach St. Peter’s, and it always presents something new to admire.
From St. Peter’s to the Vatican, to see the statues by torchlight. The effect is wonderful, and totally unlike that which is produced by day. The finest statues unquestionably gain the most, and it is easy, after seeing this, to understand why most of the best are found in the baths; a better BUNSEN’S ACCOUNT OF ROME notion, too, may be formed of their magnificence. It would seem as if some statues had been formed expressly to be thus exhibited. There is a mutilated statue they call a Niobe (God knows why), with drapery blown back by the wind and appearing quite transparent. This effect cannot be produced by daylight.
Notes
9 [Charles X. had signed the decree for the dissolution of the existing Chamber of Deputies on the 16th of May: on the 19th of May another ordinance appointed M. de Chantelauze to the Ministry of Justice, M. de Peyronnet to the Interior, M. de Montbel to the Finances, and M. Capelle to the Department of Public Works. These appointments, more especially that of M. de Peyronnet, were deemed in the highest degree hostile to the Liberal party.]