Irma in Italy: A Travel Story Page 6

  CHAPTER VI

  NAPLES AND ITS NEIGHBORHOOD

  At Naples Irma saw that if she attempted to record half that interestedher, no diary would be large enough, and if she tried to describe thingsat length, there would be time for little else. So she made rather briefnotes, which, when she reached home would recall what she had seen, sothat she could then describe at greater length to the family.

  A more experienced traveller might have been less interested in theRoyal Palace, but, since it was her first palace, Irma found in it anair of romance that Uncle Jim was inclined to scoff at. It was a long,imposing building, with eight statues on the facade, representing thedifferent dynasties that had governed Naples: Roger the Norman, FredericII of Hohenstaufen, Charles I of Anjou, Alphonse I, Charles V, CharlesIII of Bourbon, Joachim Murat, and Victor Emanuel.

  "Poor Neapolitans!" exclaimed Uncle Jim. "No wonder they are restless,so often changing rulers, and until now seldom having kings who cared afarthing for them. Even before these Normans there were Greeks, Oscans,Romans, Goths, and Byzantines, all to take their turn here in SouthernItaly. Neapolitans are naturally turbulent and troublesome in America.It will take them some time to learn to govern themselves."

  "We are not out to listen to history lectures. We simply wish to seethings," said Aunt Caroline.

  "But this palace is in such bad taste. I am trying to divert your mindsfrom its hideous furnishings."

  Though in her secret heart Irma admired the throne room, with its goldembroidered, crimson velvet furniture, enormous Sevres and Dresdenvases, and its more artistic bronze busts, later, perhaps, what sheremembered best of this visit was the magnificent terrace view of theharbor and the Arsenal.

  "Do the Neapolitans get their love of noise from all those ancestorsyou were talking about, Uncle Jim?" she asked, as they drove along thebroad Toledo, where the crack of whips, the braying of donkeys, and theshouts of hawkers prevented conversation. Uncle Jim raised his handdeprecatingly, as if an adequate reply were then impossible.

  "There," cried Aunt Caroline. "I understand why the people of Naples usegestures so largely. You know they can carry on long conversationswithout a word. By use of their hands they can make themselvesunderstood above the din of the streets."

  "A good theory, if gesture were not as common in the country districtsas in Naples."

  Here Marion interrupted. "We might stop at the Catacombs to-day, if youwish."

  "I don't wish," cried Irma decidedly.

  Marion looked at her with surprise.

  "No Catacombs to-day, only Capo di Monte," returned Aunt Caroline.

  Then they drove swiftly past one or two squares containing statues, onea monument to Dante, and at last, at the Bosco, they showed theirpermits. They felt the charm of the gardens around Capo di Monte, laidout in English style, but they did not linger in the Palace itself;Marion said the Sword of Scandberg was the one thing he had come to see,and though he spent a few minutes in the armory, he gave but a passingglance at the high colored Capo di Monte ware.

  "My mother has some of that," he said, as Aunt Caroline called hisattention to a particularly beautiful piece.

  "Isn't it very valuable?" asked Irma.

  He made no reply. Perhaps he did not hear her. But Irma remembered thatshe had never before heard Marion refer to his mother.

  That very afternoon, while the others rested, Marion explored the cityby himself, and came back in great spirits. He had been up in the_lanterna_, or lighthouse, where he had had a magnificent view of thetown, and in the Villa del Popolo, a great open square, he had come uponone of the public readers who daily gather there at a certain hour, andread aloud from some of the great poets to a circle of auditors; each ofwhom had paid a small price for the privilege of listening. He hadglanced also at the University, which has four thousand students and onehundred professors.

  Of the whole party, Marion, indeed, saw the most of Naples. He wentamong the fishermen at the wharves; he inspected the old mediaeval forts,Castello St. Elmo, so magnificently situated on the heights, Castellodell' Ovo by the water, and the others. He brought home many little bitsof amusing folklore, gathered from the boatmen, especially regardingtheir belief in the evil eye. In his new, friendly mood, he shared theresults of his wanderings, until Irma began to think him a decidedlyentertaining boy.

  The visit to the Museum took a whole day, and tired though she was atthe end, Irma declared she would gladly spend another day there. Fornow, for the first time, she saw many a fine statue that she had seenbefore only in pictures, and she was surprised to learn that many ofthese had been dug up from the ruins of Pompeii; the boy with thedolphin, the boy with the goose, and the charming Narcissus pleased hermore than the colossal Farnese Hercules and the group of the Farnesebull.

  "Our sculptors cannot get ahead of those old fellows," said Uncle Jim,"though I can't give the same praise to their painters." And Irma agreedwith him, as she looked at the Pompeian frescoes.

  But neither paintings nor sculptures interested her as did the householdutensils, the ornaments, and the jewels from Pompeii and Herculaneum.

  "Designers of jewelry and other beautiful things to-day get some oftheir best ideas from these treasures of Pompeii," explained Uncle Jim,after Irma had told him that she had seen Gertrude's mother wear abracelet the counterpart of one they were looking at.

  Yet as they passed from case to case, and from room to room, Irmathought less of the beauty, or even of the usefulness of these things,than of the unhappy people to whom they had belonged who had been buriedunder the hot ashes of Vesuvius. In glass vessels she saw grains andfruits that the lava had preserved from decay, and in the cases therewere loaves of much the same appearance as when the baker took them fromthe oven. These homely things brought the sufferings of the Pompeiansmuch nearer than did the great treasure chests, or some of the morevaluable objects in the collection.

  "I feel as if I had been at a funeral," she murmured to Aunt Caroline,and she was not sorry that the closing hour had come.

  "I'll show you something more cheerful to-morrow," suggested Marion."They have the most wonderful Aquarium here. It can't be better thanours in New York, even if it is more famous. So I wish you would comewith me to-morrow and tell me what you think."

  "But I have never seen the New York Aquarium," ventured Irma.

  "Then you must believe what I tell you about it."

  The next morning Irma set off with Marion. She had learned from UncleJim that this Aquarium in Naples, founded by Dr. Dohrn, a German, wasreally a scientific institution where students from all parts of theworld could study the lowest forms of marine life, the finest examplesof which are found in the Bay of Naples.

  Marion and Irma found that the larger part of the white Aquariumbuilding was given to rooms for students and to the library. The fishwere in the lower part, underground it seemed to her. As she walkedabout from cave to cave, for so she called the glass-fronted cavernswhere the fish were swimming about, she began to shiver.

  "Are you cold?" asked Marion, anxiously.

  "No, but these fish seem more disagreeable than the things fromPompeii."

  "They are certainly different," responded Marion, successfully resistinga desire to smile.

  "I rather like the living coral," continued Irma, "though it seems queerto see coral branches waving to and fro as if they were getting ready toswim, and some of the fish are funny, but some are really gruesome. Ishall be haunted for a long time by this horrible thing," pointing to ajellylike mass that suddenly hurled itself through the water, and sentout innumerable legs, or arms, ready to grasp and destroy everythingwithin reach.

  After inspecting all the cases, Marion and Irma went out the door behindtwo girls who were talking rather loudly.

  "How foolish you are, Katie Grimston," cried one of them, and at thesound of this name Irma looked toward Marion as if expecting some wordfrom him.

  Though he made no comment, he, too, looked with some interest at thegirls, as they stood outside a
waiting their carriage.

  "Oh, dear," exclaimed Irma, as the two drove away, "I wish I had spokento them."

  "Do you know them?"

  "No, but still I might have spoken, for one called the other 'KatieGrimston,' and that is the name of the girl that Nap used to belong to.I wish I had spoken to her."

  "One thing may console you: when you once run across people in Europe,you are sure to meet them again. You know we've been meeting some onefrom the ship every day since we landed. But I'll keep my eye open foryour friend, Katie Grimston."

  "I shouldn't exactly call her a friend."

  "She's a friend until she proves an enemy. But in any case I'll watchfor her. Perhaps she's a friend of mine. I'm sure I know one of thosegirls, and, by the way, wouldn't you prefer the New York Aquarium?"

  "Yes," responded Irma, "as I have seen only this one, I am sure I'dprefer the other."

  When they returned to the hotel, Marion and Irma found Aunt Caroline andUncle Jim enthusiastic over their excursion to Posilipo, declined by theyoung people in favor of the Aquarium.

  "You missed it, Marion," said Uncle Jim, "the region where we have beenis just filled with classical memories. The Posilipo was a favoritestamping ground of Virgil's. He wrote the Georgics and the AEneid there,and you can have as long an argument as you wish with the guides as towhether the tomb they show is really his or some other fellow's. If yousay it is, Petrarch and Bocaccio, who used to go there, are on yourside. Not far off, between Puteoli and Baiae, Caligula performed somefoolish stunt of his on a bridge of boats. Or, if that doesn't contentyou, you can remember that Augustus was fond of the Posilipo. You canalso hunt for the ruins of the villa of Lucullus. Our friends, the Romanpatricians, loved this region. Instead of digging up ruins, your auntand I just sat in front of one of the little cafes and incidentally hada magnificent view."

  "Yes, we didn't try to go on to Solfaterra," continued Aunt Caroline,"though some one who had been there told a tale of fissures from whichgas was exuding, and of remarkable sounds of water boiling violently notfar beneath the surface when you put your ear to the ground."

  "Isn't Puteoli the place where St. Paul landed?" asked Irma timidly.

  "Yes, my dear, and he found a number of Christians there to welcomehim. Indeed, all the region of the Posilipo and beyond, has so manyassociations that we ought to spend a week here."

  "Come," said Uncle Jim, "we must all agree to be true philosophers. Therapid flight of time and the shortness of human life in general compelus to let many delightful places go unvisited. Like everything in life,it's a question of choices. While we try to see the most importantthings along our route, we must still neglect other things and placesthat are not unimportant."

  "Capri, for example," murmured Marion.

  "Nothing could induce me to repeat that odious trip," and Aunt Carolineshuddered at the remembrance. "Bad landings, and boats so overcrowded,combined with rough water, make it positively dangerous, at least toone's nerves. If I could fly, I'd go there gladly."

  "But isn't Capri very beautiful?" queried Irma.

  "And the blue grotto something no one should miss?" added Marion.

  "You children can go there, if you prefer it to Paestum."

  "What is Paestum?" asked Irma.

  "Not to know Paestum--and you a school girl fitting for college. Now Ishall insist on your going with me. For certainly, you have one thing tolearn, 'What is Paestum!'" and Uncle Jim walked away, as if quite indespair at Irma's ignorance.

  "Capri really is beautiful," continued Aunt Caroline, turning to Marionand Irma. "Its men and women are fine types. As I remember there werequantities of flowers around the pretty little white cottages, andcharming scenery at every turn. I don't know whether the people stillwear their picturesque costumes, and make soft, high-colored ribbons andweave beautiful white woolen materials. But I imagine it is less changedthan some other parts of Italy, and if you should go there five yearsfrom now, you would probably find it just the same. They still give awonderful fete in July or August to ward off the grape disease. Theyhave celebrated it for centuries with dancing and sports, but, as theycarry a cross at the head of the procession, they fancy it's religious."

  "It sounds great," said Marion, "but we can't wait until midsummer. IfI should go, I'd hunt up the ruins of Tiberius's villas. This was hisfavorite resort, and so terribly cruel was he that mothers stillthreaten bad children that 'Timberio' will get them. I believe a steeprock is shown from which he used to throw his victims into the seabelow."

  "Well done, Marion. If we have time perhaps we'll go to Capri in spiteof the wretched boats. But failing that we'll visit Vedder's studio inRome. He has a summer villa at Capri, and if he has not used Capri typesin his pictures, he can tell us about the people."