Samuel F. B. Morse, His Letters and Journals Volume I Part 37
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"The lightning, flas.h.i.+ng in the dark clouds that were gathering from the Tyrolese Alps, portended another storm which soon burst over us and hastened the conclusion of the music. The lightning was incessant. I stood at the corner of the piazza and watched the splendid effects of lights and darks, in a moment coming and in a moment gone, on the campanile and church of St. Mark's. It was most sublime. The gilt statue of the angel on the top of the campanile never looked so sublime, seeming to be enveloped in the glory of the vivid light, and, as the electric fluid flashed behind it from cloud to cloud incessantly, it seemed to go and come at the bidding of the angel."
This sounds almost like a prophetic vision, written by the pencil of the man who, in a few years from then, was to make the lightning go and come at his bidding.
"_July 4._ This anniversary of the day of our national birth found but two Americans in Venice. We met in the evening over a cup of coffee and thought and talked of the happiest of countries. We had no patriotic toasts, but the sentiments of our hearts were--'Peace be within thy walls and prosperity within thy palaces.' Never on any anniversary of our Independence have I felt so strongly the great reason I have for grat.i.tude in having been born in such a country. When I think of the innumerable blessings we enjoy over every other country in the world, I am constrained to praise G.o.d who hath made us to differ, for 'He hath not dealt so with any nation, and as for his judgments, we have not known them.' While pestilence and famine and war surround me here in these devoted countries, I fix my thoughts on one bright spot on earth; truly (if our too ungrateful countrymen would but see it), truly a terrestrial paradise."
This attack of nostalgia was probably largely due to atmospheric conditions, for at least one thunderstorm seems to have been a matter of daily occurrence. This, added to the noisome odors arising from the ca.n.a.ls, affected his health, for he complains of feeling more unwell than at any time since he left home. It must, therefore, have been with no feelings of great regret that he packed his belongings and prepared to leave Venice with a companion, Mr. Ferguson, of Natchez, on the 18th of July. His objective point was Paris, but he planned to linger by the way and take a leisurely course through the Italian lake region, Switzerland, and Germany. The notebooks give a detailed but rather dry account of the daily happenings. It was, presumably, Morse's intention to elaborate these, at some future day, into a more entertaining record of his wanderings; but this was never done. I shall, therefore, pa.s.s on rapidly, touching but lightly on the incidents of the journey, which were, in the main, without special interest. The route lay through Padua, Vicenza, Verona, and Brescia to Milan. From Vicenza a side trip was made to the watering-place of Recoaro, where a few days were most delightfully spent in the company of the English consul at Venice, Mr. Money, and his family.
"Recoaro, like all watering-places, is beginning to be the resort of the fas.h.i.+onable world. The Grand d.u.c.h.ess of Tuscany is now here, and on Sat.u.r.day the Vice-Queen of Italy is expected from Milan to visit her aunt, the Grand d.u.c.h.ess.... Towards evening parties of ladies and gentlemen are seen promenading or riding on donkeys along the brows of the mountains and among the trees, and many priests are seen disfiguring the landscape with their tasteless, uncouth dresses; most of them coming, I was informed on the best authority, for the purpose of gambling and dissipating that time of which, from the trifling nature of their duties and the almost countless increase of their numbers, they have so much to spare. Cards have the most fascination for them."
Another incident of the stay at Recoaro is worth recording. Referring to the family of Mr. Money, he says:--
"In the afternoon took an excursion on donkeys with the whole family among the wild and romantic scenery. In returning, while riding by the side of Mr. Money and in conversation with him, my donkey stumbled upon his knees and threw me over his head, without injury to me, but Mrs.
Money, who was just before me, seeing the accident, was near fainting and, during the rest of the day, was invisible. I was somewhat surprised at the effect produced on her until I learned that the news of the loss of her son in India by a fall from his horse, which had recently reached her, had rendered her nerves peculiarly sensitive."
Two days later, however, he joined them in another excursion.
"On returning we stopped to take tea at Mrs. Ireland's lodgings, an English lady who is here with her two daughters, accomplished and highly agreeable people. I was told by them that after I left Rome a most diabolical attempt was made to poison the English artists who had made a party to Grotto Ferrata. They were mistaken by the persons who attempted the deed for Germans. They all became exceedingly ill immediately after dinner, and, as the wine was the only thing they had taken there, having brought their food with them, it was suspected and a strong solution of copper was proved to be in it. I was told that Messrs. Gibson and Desoulavy suffered a great deal, the latter being confined to his bed for three weeks. Had I been in Rome it is more than probable I should have been of their party, for I had never visited Grotto Ferrata, and the company of those with whom I had a.s.sociated would have induced me to join them without a doubt."
Morse enjoyed his stay at Recoaro so much that he was persuaded by his hospitable friends to prolong his visit for a few days longer than he had planned, but, on July 27, he and his friend Mr. Ferguson bade adieu and proceeded on their journey. Verona and Brescia were visited and on July 29 they came to Milan. The cathedral he finds "a most gorgeous building, far exceeding my conception of it"; and of the beautiful street of the Corso Porta Orientale he says: "It is wider than Broadway and as superior as white marble palaces are to red brick houses. There is an opinion prevalent among some of our good citizens that Broadway is not only the longest and widest, but the most superbly built, street in the world. The sooner they are undeceived the better. Broadway is a beautiful street, a very beautiful street, but it is absurd to think that our brick houses of twenty-five feet front, with plain doors and windows, built by contract in two or three months, and holding together long enough to be let, can rival the s.p.a.cious stone palaces of hundreds of feet in length, with lofty gates and balconied windows, and their foundations deeply laid and slowly constructed to last for ages." This was, of course, when Broadway even below Fourteenth Street, was a residence street.
Attending service in the cathedral on Sunday, and being, as usual, wearied by the monotony and apparent insincerity of it all, he again gives vent to his feelings:--
"How admirably contrived is every part of the structure of this system to take captive the imagination. It is a religion of the imagination; all the arts of the imagination are pressed into its service; architecture, painting, sculpture, music, have lent all their charm to enchant the senses and impose on the understanding by subst.i.tuting for the solemn truths of G.o.d's Word, which are addressed to the understanding, the fictions of poetry and the delusions of feeling. The theatre is a daughter of this prolific mother of abominations, and a child worthy of its dam. The lessons of morality are pretended to be taught by both, and much in the same way, by scenic effect and pantomime, and the fruits are much the same.
"I am sometimes even constrained to doubt the lawfulness of my own art when I perceive its prost.i.tution, were I not fully persuaded that the art itself, when used for its legitimate purposes, is one of the greatest correcters of grossness and promoters of refinement. I have been led, since I have been in Italy, to think much of the propriety of introducing pictures into churches in aid of devotion. I have certainly every inducement to decide in favor of the practice did I consult alone the seeming interest of art. That pictures may and do have the effect upon some rightly to raise the affections, I have no doubt, and, abstractly considered, the practice would not merely be harmless but useful; but, knowing that man is led astray by his imagination more than by any of his other faculties, I consider it so dangerous to his best interests that I had rather sacrifice the interests of the arts, if there is any collision, than run the risk of endangering those compared with which all others are not for a moment to be considered. But more of this another time."
I have introduced here and at other times Morse's strictures on the Roman Catholic religion, and on other subjects, without comment on my part, even when these strictures seem to verge on illiberality. My desire is to present a true portrait of the man, with the shadows as well as the lights duly emphasized, fully realizing that what may appear faults to some, to others will s.h.i.+ne out as virtues, and _vice versa_.
From Milan, Morse and his companion planned to cross the mountains to Geneva, but, having a day or two to spare, they visited the Lake of Como, which, as was to be expected, satisfied the eye of the artist: "It is shut in by mountains on either side, reminding me of the scenery of Lake George, to which its sh.o.r.es are very similar. In the transparency of the water, however, Lake George is its superior, and in islands also, but in all things else the Lake of Como must claim the precedence. The palaces and villas and villages which skirt its sh.o.r.es, the mountains, vine-clad and cultivated to their summits, all give a charm for which we look in vain as yet in our country. The luxuries of art have combined with those of nature in a wonderful degree in this enchanting spot."
On August 4, they left Milan in the diligence for Lago Maggiore, and we learn that: "Our coach is accompanied by _gendarmes_. We enquired the reason of the conductor, who was in the coach with us. He told us that the road is an unsafe one; that every day there are instances of robbery perpetrated upon those who travel alone."
[Ill.u.s.tration: HENRY CLAY Painted by Morse. Now in the Metropolitan Museum, New York]
It would be pleasant to follow the travellers through beautiful Maggiore and up the rugged pa.s.ses from Italy to Switzerland and thence to Germany and Paris, and to see through the unspoiled eyes of an enthusiast the beauties of that playground of the nations, but it would be but the repet.i.tion of an oft-told tale, and I must hasten on, making but a few extracts from the diary. No thrilling adventures were met with, except towards the end, but they enjoyed to the full the grand scenery, the picturesque costumes of the peasants and the curious customs of the different countries through which they pa.s.sed. The weather was sometimes fine, but more often overcast or rainy, and we find this note on August 15: "How much do a traveller's impressions depend upon the weather, and even on the time of day in which he sees objects. He sees most of the country through which he travels but once, and it is the face which any point a.s.sumes at that one moment which is brought to his recollection. If it is under a gloomy atmosphere, it is not possible that he should remember it under other form or aspect."
On Sunday, August 28, he watched the sunrise from the summit of the Rigi under ideal conditions, and, after describing the scene and saying that the rest of the company had gone back to bed, he adds:--
"I had found too little comfort in the wretched thing that had been provided for me in the shape of a bed to desire to return thither, and I also felt too strongly the emotions which the scene I had just witnessed had excited, to wish for their dissipation in troubled dreams.
"If there is a feeling allied to devotion, it is that which such a scene of sublimity as this we have just witnessed inspires, and yet that feeling is not devotion. I am aware that it is but the emotion of taste.
It may exist without a particle of true religious feeling, or it may coexist and add strength to it. There are thousands, probably, who have here had their emotion of taste excited without one thought of that Being by whom these wonders were created, one thought of their relation to Him, of their duty to Him, or of admiration at that unmerited goodness which allows them to be witnesses of his majesty and power as exhibited in these wonders of nature. Shut out as I am by circ.u.mstances from the privileges of this day in public wors.h.i.+p, I have yet on the top of this mountain a place of private wors.h.i.+p such as I have not had for some time past. I am alone on the mountain with such a scene spread before me that I must adore, and weak, indeed, must be that faith which, on this day, in such a scene, does not lift the heart from nature up to nature's G.o.d."
On August 30, on the road to Zurich, he makes this rather interesting observation: "We noticed in a great many instances that wires were attached to the electric rods and conducted to posts near the houses, when a chime of bells was so arranged as to ring in a highly charged state of the atmosphere (Franklin's experiment)."
Journeying on past Schaffhausen, where the beautiful falls of the Rhine filled him with admiration, he and his companion came to Heidelberg and explored the ruins of the stupendous castle. Here he parted with his travelling companion, Mr. Ferguson, who went on to Frankfort, which city Morse avoided because the French Government had established a strict quarantine against it on account of some epidemic, the nature of which is not disclosed in the notes. He was eager to get to Paris now and wished to avoid all delays.
"_September 7._ I engaged my pa.s.sage in the diligence for Mannheim, and, for the first time since I have been in Europe, set out alone.... I learn from the gentleman in the coach that the _cordon sanitaire_ in France is to be enforced with great rigor from the 11th of September; I hope, therefore, to get into France before that date.
"_September 10, Saarbruck._ We last night took our places for Metz, not knowing, however, or even thinking it probable that we should be able to get there. It was hinted by some that a small _douceur_ would enable us to pa.s.s the _cordon_, but how to be applied I knew not.
"Among our pa.s.sengers who joined me yesterday was a young German officer who was the only one who could speak French. With him I contrived to converse during the day. We had beds in the same room and, as we were about retiring, he told me, as I understood him, that by giving the keys of my luggage to the coachman in the morning, the business of pa.s.sing at the _douane_ on the frontier would be facilitated. I a.s.sented and told him, as he understood the language better than I, I left it to him to make any arrangements and I would share the expense with him.
"We were called sometime before day and I left my bed very reluctantly.
The morning was cloudy and dark and so far favorable to the enterprise we were about to undertake, and of the nature and plan of which I had not the slightest suspicion. We were soon settled in the diligence and left Saarbruck for the frontier. I composed myself to sleep and had just got into a doze when suddenly the coach stopped, and, the door opening, a man touching me said in a low voice--'_Descendez, monsieur, descendez._' I asked the reason but got no answer. My companion and I alighted. There was no house near; a bright streak in the east under the heavy black clouds showed that it was just daybreak, and ahead of us in the road a great light from the windows of a long building showed us the place of the hospital of the _cordon_.
"Our guide, for so he proved to be, taking the knapsack of my companion and a basket of mine, in which I carry my portfolio and maps, struck off to the left into a newly ploughed field, while our carriage proceeded at a quick pace onward again. I asked where we were going, but got no other reply than '_Doucement, monsieur_.' It then for the first time flashed across my mind that we had undertaken an unlawful and very hazardous enterprise, that of running by the _cordon_. I had now, however, no alternative; I must follow, for I knew not what other course to take.
"After pa.s.sing through ploughed fields and wet gra.s.s and grain for some time a small by-path crossed from the main road. Our guide beckoned us back, while he went forward each way to see that all was clear, and then we crossed and proceeded again over ploughed fields and through the clover. It now began to rain which, disagreeable as it was, I did not regret, all things considered. We soon came to another and wider cross-path; we stopped and our guide went forward again in the same cautious manner, stooping down and listening, like an Indian, near the ground. He beckoned us to cross over and again we traversed the fields, pa.s.sing by the base of a small hill, when, as we softly crept up the side, we saw the form of a sentinel against the light of the sky. Our guide whispered, '_Doucement_' again, and we gently retreated, my companion whispering to me, '_Tres dangereux, monsieur, tres desagreable_.'
"We took a wider circuit behind some small buildings, and at length came into one of the smaller streets in the outskirts of Forbach. Here were what appeared to me barracks. The caution was given to walk softly and separately (we were all, fortunately, in dark clothes), our guide pa.s.sing first round the corners, and, having pa.s.sed the sentry-boxes, in which, with one exception, we saw no person, and in this instance the sentinel did not hail us (but this was in the city), we came to a house at the window of which our guide tapped. A man opened it, and, after some explanation, ascertaining who we were, opened the door and, striking a light, set some wine and bread before us.
"Here we remained for some time to recover breath after our perilous adventure, for, if one of the sentinels had seen us, we should in all probability have been instantly shot. I knew not that we were now entirely free from the danger of being arrested, until we heard our carriage in the street and had ascertained that all our luggage had pa.s.sed the _douane_ without suspicion. We paid our guide eight francs each, and, taking our seats again in the carriage, drove forward toward Metz."
There were no further adventures, although they trembled with anxiety every time their pa.s.sports were called for. Morse regretted having been innocently led into this escapade, and would have made a clean breast of it to the police, as he had not been near Frankfort, but he feared to compromise his travelling companion who had come from that city.
On September 12 they finally arrived in Paris.
"How changed are the circ.u.mstances of this city since I was last here nearly two years ago. A traitor king has been driven into exile; blood has flowed in its streets, the price of its liberty; our friend, the nation's guest, whom I then saw at his house, with apparently little influence and out of favor with the court, the great Lafayette, is now second only to the king in honor and influence as the head of a powerful party. These and a thousand other kindred reflections, relating also to my own circ.u.mstances, crowd upon me at the moment of again entering this famous city."
CHAPTER XIX
SEPTEMBER 18, 1831--SEPTEMBER 21, 1832
Takes rooms with Horatio Greenough.--Political talk with Lafayette.-- Riots in Paris.--Letters from Greenough.--Bunker Hill Monument.--Letters from Fenimore Cooper.--Cooper's portrait by Verboeckhoven.--European criticisms.--Reminiscences of R.W. Habersham.--Hints of an electric telegraph.--Not remembered by Morse.--Early experiments in photography.-- Painting of the Louvre.--Cholera in Paris.--Baron von Humboldt.--Morse presides at 4th of July dinner.--Proposes toast to Lafayette.--Letter to New York "Observer" on Fenimore Cooper.--Also on pride in American citizens.h.i.+p.--Works with Lafayette in behalf of Poles.--Letter from Lafayette.--Morse visits London before sailing for home.--Sits to Leslie for head of Sterne.
The diary was not continued beyond this time and was never seriously resumed, so that we must now depend on letters to and from Morse, on fugitive notes, or on the reminiscences of others for a record of his life.
The first letter which I shall introduce was written from Paris to his brothers on September 18, 1831:--
"I arrived safely in this city on Monday noon in excellent health and spirits. My last letter to you was from Venice just as I was about to leave it, quite debilitated and unwell from application to my painting, but more, I believe, from the climate, from the perpetual sirocco which reigned uninterrupted for weeks. I have not time now to give you an account of my most interesting journey through Lombardy, Switzerland, part of Germany, and through the eastern part of France. I found, on my arrival here, my friend Mr. Greenough, the sculptor, who had come from Florence to model the bust of General Lafayette, and we are in excellent, convenient rooms together, within a few doors of the good General.
"I called yesterday on General Lafayette early in the morning. The servant told me that he was obliged to meet the Polish Committee at an early hour, and feared he could not see me. I sent in my card, however, and the servant returned immediately saying that the General wished to see me in his chamber. I followed him through several rooms and entered the chamber. The General was in dishabille, but, with his characteristic kindness, he ran forward, and, seizing both my hands, expressed with great warmth how glad he was to see me safely returned from Italy, and appearing in such good health. He then told me to be seated, and without any ceremony began familiarly to question me about my travels, etc. The conversation, however, soon turned upon the absorbing topic of the day, the fate of Poland, the news of the fall of Warsaw having just been received by telegraphic dispatch. I asked him if there was now any hope for Poland. He replied: 'Oh, yes! Their cause is not yet desperate; their army is safe; but the conduct of France, and more especially of England, has been most pusillanimous and culpable. Had the English Government shown the least disposition to coalesce in vigorous measures with France for the a.s.sistance of the Poles, they would have achieved their independence.'
"The General looks better and younger than ever. There is a healthy freshness of complexion, like that of a young man in full vigor, and his frame and step (allowing for his lameness) are as firm and strong as when he was our nation's guest. I sat with him ten or fifteen minutes and then took my leave, for I felt it a sin to consume any more of the time of a man engaged as he is in great plans of benevolence, and whose every moment is, therefore, invaluable.
"The news of the fall of Warsaw is now agitating Paris to a degree not known since the trial of the ex-ministers. About three o'clock our servant told us that there was fighting at the Palais Royal, and we determined to go as far as we prudently could to see the tumult. We proceeded down the Rue Saint-Honore. There was evident agitation in the mult.i.tudes that filled the sidewalks--an apprehension of something to be dreaded. There were groups at the corners; the windows were filled, persons looking out as if in expectation of a procession or of some fete.
The shops began to be shut, and every now and then the drum was heard beating to arms. The troops were a.s.sembling and bodies of infantry and cavalry were moving through the various streets. During this time no noise was heard from the people--a mysterious silence was observed, but they were moved by the slightest breath. If one walked quicker than the rest, or suddenly stopped, thither the enquiring look and step were directed, and a group instantly a.s.sembled. At the Palais Royal a larger crowd had collected and a greater body of troops were marching and countermarching in the Place du Palais Royal. The Palais Royal itself had the interior cleared and all the courts. Everything in this place of perpetual gayety was now desolate; even the fountains had ceased to play, and the seared autumnal leaves of the trees, some already fallen, seemed congruous with the sentiment of the hour. Most of the shops were also shut and the stalls deserted. Still there was no outcry and no disturbance.
"Pa.s.sing through the Rue Vivienne the same collections of crowds and of troops were seen. Some were reading a police notice just posted on the walls, designed to prevent the riotous a.s.sembling of the people, and advising them to retire when the riot act should be read. The notice was read with murmurs and groans, and I had scarcely ascertained its contents before it was torn from the walls with acclamations. As night approached we struck into the Boulevard de la Madeleine. At the corner of this boulevard and the Rue des Capucines is the hotel of General Sebastiani.
We found before the gates a great and increasing crowd.
"We took a position on the opposite corner, in such a place as secured a safe retreat in case of need, but allowed us to observe all that pa.s.sed.
Here there was an evident intention in the crowd of doing some violence, nor was it at all doubtful what would be the object of their attack. They seemed to wait only for the darkness and for a leader.
"The sight of such a crowd is fearful, and its movements, as it was swayed by the incidents of the moment, were in the highest degree exciting. A body of troops of the line would pa.s.s; the crowd would silently open for their pa.s.sage and close immediately behind them. A body of the National Guard would succeed, and these would be received with loud cheers and gratulations. A soldier on guard would exercise a little more severity than was, perhaps, necessary for the occasion; yells, and execrations, and hisses would be his reward.
Samuel F. B. Morse, His Letters and Journals Volume I Part 37
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