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The Journal of Sir Walter Scott by Walter Scott

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_February_ 16.--Sir William Gell called and took me out to-night to a
bookseller whose stock was worth looking over.

We saw, among the old buildings of the city, an ancient palace called
the Vicaria, which is changed into a prison. Then a new palace was
honoured with royal residence instead of the old dungeon. I saw also a
fine arch called the Capuan gate, formerly one of the city towers, and a
very pretty one. We advanced to see the ruins of a palace said to be a
habitation of Queen Joan, and where she put her lovers to death chiefly
by potions, thence into a well, smothering them, etc., and other little
tenderly trifling matters of gallantry.

FOOTNOTES:

[518] Probably _Pauline_; married to Hon. Augustus Craven, and author of
_Recit d'une Soeur_.

[519] Daughter of Colonel Hugh Duncan Baillie, of Tarradale and
Redcastle.




MARCH.


_March_.--Embarked on an excursion to Paestum, with Sir William Gell and
Mr. Laing-Meason, in order to see the fine ruins. We went out by
Pompeii, which we had visited before, and which fully maintains its
character as one of the most striking pieces of antiquity, where the
furniture treasure and household are preserved in the excavated houses,
just as found by the labourers appointed by Government. The inside of
the apartments is adorned with curious paintings, if I may call them
such, in mosaic. A meeting between Darius and Alexander is remarkably
fine.[520] A street, called the street of Tombs, reaches a considerable
way out of the city, having been flanked by tombs on each side as the
law directed. The entrance into the town affords an interesting picture
of the private life of the Romans. We came next to the vestiges of
Herculaneum, which is destroyed like Pompeii but by the lava or molten
stone, which cannot be removed, whereas the tufa or volcanic ashes can
be with ease removed from Pompeii, which it has filled up lightly. After
having refreshed in a cottage in the desolate town, we proceed on our
journey eastward, flanked by one set of heights stretching from
Vesuvius, and forming a prolongation of that famous mountain. Another
chain of mountains seems to intersect our course in an opposite
direction and descends upon the town of Castellamare. Different from the
range of heights which is prolonged from Vesuvius, this second, which
runs to Castellamare, is entirely composed of granite, and, as is always
the case with mountains of this formation, betrays no trace of volcanic
agency. Its range was indeed broken and split up into specimens of rocks
of most romantic appearance and great variety, displaying granite rock
as the principal part of its composition. The country on which these
hills border is remarkable for its powers of vegetation, and produces
vast groves of vine, elm, chestnut, and similar trees, which grow when
stuck in by cuttings. The vines produce Lacryma Christi in great
quantities--not a bad wine, though the stranger requires to be used to
it. The sea-shore of the Bay of Naples forms the boundary on the right
of the country through which our journey lies, and we continue to
approach to the granite chain of eminences which stretch before us, as
if to bar our passage.

As we advanced to meet the great barrier of cliffs, a feature becomes
opposed to us of a very pronounced character, which seems qualified to
interrupt our progress. A road leading straight across the branch of
hills is carried up the steepest part of the mountain, ascending by a
succession of zig-zags, which the French laid by scale straight up the
hill. The tower is situated upon an artificial eminence, worked to a
point and placed in a defensible position between two hills about the
same height, the access to which the defenders of the pass could
effectually prohibit.

Sir William Gell, whose knowledge of the antiquities of this country is
extremely remarkable, acquainted us with the history.

In the middle ages the pasturages on the slope of these hills,
especially on the other side, belonged to the rich republic of Amain,
who built this tower as an exploratory gazeeboo from which they could
watch the motions of the Saracens who were wont to annoy them with
plundering excursions; but after this fastness [was built] the people of
Amalfi usually defeated and chastised them. The ride over the opposite
side of the mountain was described as so uncommonly pleasant as made me
long to ride it with assistance of a pony. That, however, was
impossible. We arrived at a country house, near a large town situated in
a ravine or hollow, which was called La Cava from some concavities which
it exhibited.

We were received by Miss Whyte, an English lady who has settled at La
Cava, and she afforded us the warmest hospitality that is consistent
with a sadly cold chilling house. They may say what they like of the
fine climate of Naples--unquestionably they cannot say too much in its
favour, but yet when a day or two of cold weather does come, the
inhabitants are without the means of parrying the temporary inclemency,
which even a Scotsman would scorn to submit to. However, warm or cold,
to bed we went, and rising next morning at seven we left La Cava, and,
making something like a sharp turn backwards, but keeping nearer to the
Gulf of Salerno than in yesterday's journey, and nearer to its shore. We
had a good road towards Paestum, and in defiance of a cold drizzling day
we went on at a round pace. The country through which we travelled was
wooded and stocked with wild animals towards the fall of the hills, and
we saw at a nearer distance a large swampy plain, pastured by a
singularly bizarre but fierce-looking buffalo, though it might maintain
a much preferable stock. This palace of Barranco was anciently kept up
for the King's sport, but any young man having a certain degree of
interest is allowed to share in the chase, which it is no longer an
object to preserve. The guest, however, if he shoots a deer, or a
buffalo, or wild boar, must pay the keeper at a certain fixed price, not
much above its price in the market, which a sportsman would hardly think
above its worth for game of his own killing. The town of Salerno is a
beautiful seaport town, and it is, as it were, wrapt in an Italian cloak
hanging round the limbs, or, to speak common sense, the new streets
which they are rebuilding. We made no stop at Salerno, but continued to
traverse the great plain of that name, within sight of the sea, which is
chiefly pastured by that queer-looking brute, the buffalo, concerning
which they have a notion that it returns its value sooner, and with less
expense of feeding, than any other animal.

At length we came to two streams which join their forces, and would seem
to flow across the plain to the bottom of the hills. One, however, flows
so flat as almost scarcely to move, and sinking into a kind of stagnant
pool is swallowed up by the earth, without proceeding any further until,
after remaining buried for two or three [miles?] underground, it again
bursts forth to the light, and resumes its course. When we crossed this
stream by a bridge, which they are now repairing, we entered a spacious
plain, very like that which we had [left] and displaying a similar rough
and savage cultivation. Here savage herds were under the guardianship of
shepherds as wild as they were themselves, clothed in a species of
sheepskins, and carrying a sharp spear with which they herd and
sometimes kill their buffaloes. Their farmhouses are in very poor order,
and with every mark of poverty, and they have the character of being
moved to dishonesty by anything like opportunity; of this there was a
fatal instance, but so well avenged that it is not like to be repeated
till it has long faded out of memory. The story, I am assured, happened
exactly as follows:--A certain Mr. Hunt, lately married to a lady of his
own age, and, seeming to have had what is too often the Englishman's
characteristic of more money than wit, arrived at Naples a year or two
ago _en famille_, and desirous of seeing all the sights in the vicinity
of this celebrated place. Among others Paestum was not forgot. At one of
the poor farmhouses where they stopped, the inhabitant set her eyes on
a toilet apparatus which was composed of silver and had the appearance
of great value. The woman who spread this report addressed herself to a
youth who had been [under] arms, and undoubtedly he and his companions
showed no more hesitation than the person with whom the idea had
originated. Five fellows, not known before this time for any particular
evil, agreed to rob the English gentleman of the treasure of which he
had made such an imprudent display. They were attacked by the banditti
in several parties, but the principal attack was directed to Mr. Hunt's
carriage, a servant of that gentleman being, as well as himself, pulled
out of the carriage and watched by those who had undertaken to conduct
this bad deed. The man who had been the soldier, probably to keep up his
courage, began to bully, talk violently, and strike the _valet de
place_, who screamed out in a plaintive manner, "Do not injure me." His
master, hoping to make some impression, said, "Do not hurt my servant,"
to which the principal brigand replied, "If he dares to resist, shoot
him." The man who stood over Mr. Hunt unfortunately took the captain at
the word, and his shot mortally wounded the unfortunate gentleman and
his wife, who both died next day at our landlady's, Miss Whyte, who had
the charity to receive them that they might hear their own language on
their deathbed. The Neapolitan Government made the most uncommon
exertions. The whole of the assassins were taken within a fortnight, and
executed within a week afterwards. In this wild spot, rendered
unpleasing by the sad remembrance of so inhuman an accident, and the
cottages which served for refuge for so wretched and wild a people,
exist the celebrated ruins of Paestum. Being without arms of any kind,
the situation was a dreary one, and though I can scarce expect now to
defend myself effectually, yet the presence of [_illegible_] would have
been an infinite cordial. The ruins are of very great antiquity, which
for a very long time has not been suspected, as it was never supposed
that the Sybarites, a luxurious people, were early possessed of a style
of architecture simple, chaste, and inconceivably grand, which was lost
before the time of Augustus, who is said by Suetonius to have undertaken
a journey on purpose to visit these remains of an architecture, the most
simple and massive of which Italy at least has any other specimen. The
Greeks have specimens of the same kind, but they are composed not of
stone, like Paestum, but of marble. All this has been a discovery of
recent date. The ruins, which exist without exhibiting much demolition,
are three in number. The first is a temple of immense size, having a
portico of the largest columns of the most awful species of classic
architecture. The roof, which was composed of immense stones, was
destroyed, but there are remains of the Cella, contrived for the
sacrifices to which the priests and persons of high office were alone
[admitted].

A piece of architecture more massive, without being cumbrous or heavy,
was never invented by a mason.

A second temple in the same style was dedicated to Ceres as the large
one was to Neptune, on whose dominion they looked, and who was the
tutelar deity of Paestum, and so called from one of his Greek names. The
fane of Ceres is finished with the greatest accuracy and beauty of
proportion and taste, and in looking upon it I forgot all the unpleasant
feelings which at first oppressed me. The third was not a temple, but a
Basilica, or species of town-house, as it was called, having a third row
of pillars running up the middle, between the two which surrounded the
sides, and were common to the Basilica and temple both. These surprising
public edifices have therefore all a resemblance to each other, though
also points of distinction. If Sir William Gell makes clear his theory
he will throw a most precious light on the origin of civilisation,
proving that the sciences have not sprung at once into light and life,
but rose gradually with extreme purity, and continued to be practised
best by those who first invented them. Full of these reflections, we
returned to our hospitable Miss Whyte in a drizzling evening, but
unassassinated, and our hearts completely filled with the magnificence
of what we had seen. Miss Whyte had in the meanwhile, by her interest at
La Trinita with the Abbot, obtained us permission to pay a visit to him,
and an invitation indeed to dinner, which only the weather and the
health of Sir William Gell and myself prevented our accepting. After
breakfast, therefore, on the 18th of March, we set out for the convent,
situated about two or three miles from the town in a very large ravine,
not unlike the bed of the Rosslyn river, and traversed by roads which
from their steepness and precipitancy are not at all laudable, but the
views were beautiful and changing incessantly, while the spring
advancing was spreading her green mantle over rock and tree, and making
that beautiful which was lately a blighted and sterile thicket. The
convent of Trinita itself holds a most superb situation on the
projection of an ample rock. It is a large edifice, but not a handsome
one--the monks reserving their magnificence for their churches--but was
surrounded by a circuit of fortifications, which, when there was need,
were manned by the vassals of the convent in the style of the Feudal
system. This was in some degree the case at the present day. The Abbot,
a gentlemanlike and respectable-looking man, attended by several of his
monks, received us with the greatest politeness, and conducted us to the
building, where we saw two great sculptured vases, or more properly
sarcophagi, of [marble?], well carved in the antique style, and adorned
with the story of Meleager. They were in the shape of a large bath, and
found, I think, at Paestum. The old church had passed to decay about a
hundred years ago, when the present fabric was built; it is very
beautifully arranged, and worthy of the place, which is eminently
beautiful, and of the community, who are Benedictines--the most
gentlemanlike order in the Roman Church.

We were conducted to the private repertory of the chapel, which contains
a number of interesting deeds granted by sovereigns of the Grecian,
Norman, and even Saracen descent. One from Roger, king of Sicily,
extended His Majesty's protection to some half dozen men of consequence
whose names attested their Saracenism.

In all the society I have been since I commenced this tour, I chiefly
regretted on the present occasion the not having refreshed my Italian
for the purpose of conversation. I should like to have conversed with
the Churchmen very much, and they seem to have the same inclination, but
it is too late to be thought of, though I could read Italian well once.
The church might boast of a grand organ, with fifty-seven stops, all
which we heard played by the ingenious organist. We then returned to
Miss Whyte's for the evening, ate a mighty dinner, and battled cold
weather as we might.

In further remarks on Paestum I may say there is a city wall in
wonderful preservation, one of the gates of which is partly entire and
displays the figure of a Syren under the architrave, but the antiquity
of the sculpture is doubted, though not that of the inner part of the
gate--so at least thinks Sir William, our best authority on such
matters. Many antiquities have been, and many more probably will be,
discovered. Paestum is a place which adds dignity to the peddling trade
of the ordinary antiquarian.

_March_ 19.--This morning we set off at seven for Naples; we observed
remains of an aqueduct in a narrow, apparently designed for the purpose
of leading water to La Cava, but had no time to conjecture on the
subject, and took our road back to Pompeii, and passed through two towns
of the same name, Nocera dei [Cristiani] and Nocera dei Pagani.[521] In
the latter village the Saracens obtained a place of refuge, from which
it takes the name. It is also said that the circumstance is kept in
memory by the complexion and features of this second Nocera, which are
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 L120,000, 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
L120 or L130 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:

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