i LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. I % f^YTTr"n QT ATT7Q nr? A^rFT^Tf A ^' \^«- ITALIAN LEGENDS AND SKETCHES. ■>.J jrW/.CUMMII^GS, D.D. OF NEW YORK. NEW YOEK: EDWARD DUNIGAN & BROTH JAMES B. KIRKEE, 311 BROADWAY. 1858. ~PZ.«, /S.4I l" » II '> Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by JAMES B. KIEKEE, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. ITALIAN LEGENDS AND SKETCHES. CONTENTS. The Conspirators of Milan, 9 The Last Grand Master of Malta, .... 25 Reminiscences of St. Alphonsus Liguori, ... 31 The Tiara Unworn, 51 The Emperor's Revenge, 63 The Ghost of the Black Friar, 73 Monastery of La Cava, 81 The Soldier's Purgatory, 105 Ezzelino the Cruel, 109 Daniel the Anchoret, 143 The Ruined Castle, 151 The Bandit of Yelletri, 159 The Prisoner op the Castle, 187 The Vision of Odoacer, 191 The King of Colors, 215 The Lake of Bolsena, 219 The Republic op San Marino, , 233 The Marquis of Tuscany, 263 / PREFACE. The following Legends and Sketches of Italy are drawn from reminiscences of study and travel in different parts of that beautiful country. They will be found to possess one merit at least, that of variety. The writer has written as he felt, and he treats his readers to a little information, a Uttle description, a little piety, a little poetrj', and even a little amusement. He has tried to furnish something easy to read, and yet, he hopes, not altogether unimproving. Some of the Sketches have appeared before in the periodicals of the d£jy, but most of the matter, even where it is not new, is published for the first time. The author hopes that his readers will enjoy the Italian excursion upon which he undertakes to act as their guide, treating them on the road to a number of tales, either true or as like truth as he could make them, and concludes with the augury ot old-fashioned Italian prefaces : Yivete felici — May you be happy. i THE CONSPIRATORS OF fflLAK 2 THE CONSPIRATOKS OF MILAN. THE heavy clock of tlie Cathedral of Milan had not yet finished striking four, when in an adja- cent street the passer-by might have beheld a large door tnmultuously opened, from which a number of urchins with books under their arms, or in leathern satchels, rushed out with loud cries and peals of laugh- ter. Some of them set off at a gallop towards their homes ; others engaged in wrestling with their com- panions, or turned back to laugh at their old Peda- gogue, who, with bare head and rod in hand, was standing in the doorway, and looked unusually cross even for a pedagogue. The eldest lad of the school, a tall youth of about seventeen, had alone remained within. " They have all gone out, Master Nicholas," said he to the old teacher. " Tandem aliquando !" growled Master Nicholas, spitefully reclosing the door. " I'd whip the bark ofi every one of them, as Apollo did with Marsyas." " Oil, poor little imps," said the youth, "you take 12 THE CONSPIRATORS OF MILAN. extraordinary pleasure in treating tliem to the ferula." " "What ! wonld'st tlion too, Girolamo, bother me with this song?" and then grasping his rod, and in- jBlicting repeated strokes upon some imaginary cul- prit before him, he muttered between his teeth, " I wish I had been ten times harder upon one whom I know." " Patience yet awhile, Master, and your debt will be paid to him with a Jew's interest." "Well said, my son! Keep up your courage, and foster those ripe principles which make a man of you before your time, yes, a man — a man ! But there are those two knocking." Master Nicholas went to open the door, smiling and bowing grotesquely to two young men who entered. One of these, a tall and well-proportioned youth, whose proud and noble bearing even more than the fringed velvet cape which fell down to his waist, announced him to be of illustrious lineage, was Carlo Yisconti. His companion, Andrea Lampugnano, was the son of a wealthy tradesman, and with the haughti- ness of his friend united a look expressive of dis- sipated habits, and rude, overbearing temper, which produced in his regard a rather unfavorable impres- sion from his very first appearance. " It is certain, then," said the pedagogue, conti- nuing the conversation which they had opened, " that Galeazzo returns to-day." THE CONSPIRATORS OF MILAN. 13 " 'Tis the general voice at court," said Carlo Yis- oonti. " I declare," cried the young Girolamo, " if we had known it, we might have lain in ambuscade for him on the road." " A ^g for jour ambuscades ! " exclaimed Lam- pugnano. " You will have a fair opportunity, young man, to show your courage on Christmas-day, and to make it appear whether old Montano's confidence in you be disj)laced or not." " JSTever doubt him for that," said Old Nicholas. " Yincit amor patriae . . . ." " Laudumque immensa cupido," said the youth, smartly concluding the quotation. " I assure you I am tired of waiting." " Yes, Christmas-day !" said Carlo Yisconti, " and it will be seen whether Milan, for whose sake my immortal father spent his life and blood, is to be any longer the theatre of the infamies and tyranny of an upstart Sforza ! Tlie peoj^le, I am sure, will bless us for the bold stroke, which every true man in the city fears to deal, but would be proud to have dealt." " I tell thee. Carlo," said Lampugnano, " it makes my blood boil to hear mention the name of that brutal Galeazzo. Would you believe that no later than yesterday a letter addressed to him, wherein I begged permission to occupy that field of mine which the Bishop of Como claims for the Church, was returned with a reply that the Duke, forsooth, 14 THE CONSPIRATORS OF MILAN. could not dispose of ecclesiastical property. Such an answer to me wIlo have exposed my life to keep him in possession of his pilfered Seignory ! He scruples not to lay his hands on the chattels of the Church, aye ! and upon the sacred persons of her priests, when it suits his avarice or his revenge to do so." " You have both been wronged by the unjust oppressor," said Master JSTicholas with a long-drawn sigh. " Grievously wronged !" said Master Mcho- las, as he gave forth the sigh in a second edition. These tokens of inward grief, however, were at- tributed to his own sorrowful reminiscences rather than to the wrongs of his friends. When Galeazzo was raised to the Ducal Throne, Master Nicholas Montano, who had formerly been his preceptor, was one of the first to appear in his most proper raiment to congratulate the new Signor. He had carefully combed his long grizzly locks that day, a Sunday- morning smile beamed upon his lips, and he had even prepared a pleasing surprise for the Prince in the shape of a dozen Latin hexameters on his exal- tation, which he intended to declaim in his presence. But the impressions of early childhood are not easily obliterated, and the hatred Galeazzo had formerly borne the dry old pedagogue, was the first feeling which awoke at his sudden reappearance after so long a time. Galeazzo, like other young men of those days, was proae to act upon first im- ])rcssions. Impulse was his guide, and although he THE CONSPIRAfTORS OF MILAN. 15 was sometimes known to thinlv after he had acted, he very rarely reflected beforehand. As Master Nicholas once said of him, he was like Homer in one respect, for he rushed immediately "in medias res." " How does that old Satyr dare to present himself here ?" said the Duke, as old Nicholas went on bow- ing and scraping, with his look and his smile riveted upon the Ducal person. " By Jove ! I remember how often he used to curry my back for me when I was a schoolboy ;" and turning to one of the sturdy bravos who always surrounded him — "Do you think. Sparrow-hawk," said he, " that it would be anything but fair to give the old sinner his due, and settle accounts with him now ?" " Settle him now, of course," answered the ruf- fian, laying his hand upon his dagger ; " only say the word, master, and he shall never intrude his ugly face upon you again." " Pooh !" said the Prince, " give him a few lashes on the buttocks and let him go." Before the thunder-struck schoolmaster could open his lips to utter a word of self-defence, he was dragged out into an adjoining court by two or three men-at-arms. Sparrow-hawk undid his leathern I sword-belt, and began to apply the end on which j was the buckle to the unprotected seat-of-honor of / the man of letters. One of the sturdy myrmidons I took out a greasy Sa'kta-Croce, or primer, and repeated a letter of the alphabet at every stroke, 16 THE CONSPIEATOES OF MILAN. until poor Master Mcholas was whipped from A to Z, mucli more impressively than any of his boys had ever been under the magisterial hand. His bellowing, every time the strap came down, was heard in the presence-chamber, and aiforded infinite mirth to Galeazzo and his worthy associates. The injury inflicted upon him by his old school- boy sank deep into the heart of the pedagogue, but afraid of the Prince, he dared not give vent to his anger, or mention his desire of revenge, except in secret with his young friend Girolamo Olgiato, and the owner of the school-room, Andrea Lampugnano, whom he knew to be an enemy to the Duke, from motives of private interest. The old man suddenly recollected that he had thought Galeazzo, from when he was a boy, destined to be the ruin of his country. So strongly did he fire the mind of Girolamo with descriptions of the former prosperity and happiness of Milan, and with glowing declamation upon the glory of those who had delivered Rome from her tyrants, that the light-headed youth often declared his readiness to make a Caesar of Galeazzo, if an opportunity should present itself of emulating the fame of Brutus. Lampugnano's desire of revenge did not die away in empty boasting. He artfully succeeded in gain- ing tlie heart of Carlo Yisconti, who was a page in the Ducal Court, a high-souled youth, but whose amiable and confiding disposition was easily over- come by the passionate appeals of his friend, wlio THE CONSPIRATORS OF MILAN. 17 U2)braided liim with the former glory of his family, and his own sleepy inactivity. Had these young men kept their machinations afoot for a considerable length of time, their ardor probably would have gradually subsided, they would have been deterred from any overt attempt against their Prince by the danger of the act, or their secret would have been divulged by increasing the number of conspirators. Old Nicholas knew enough of the human heart to understand all this, and urged on by these con- siderations and his own burning desire for re- venge, he had scarcely succeeded in reconciling the young men to the plausibility of an attempt against the Prince, when he dragged them at once into action by a sworn agreement that they would attack Galeazzo the first time he came to Milan. He was then at some distance from the city, in the winter-quarters of the army of his little state. Suddenly after the above-mentioned determina- tion, it was rumored that he would soon return to the city, where he intended to be present, with all his household, at the festivities of Christmas. Tlie conspirators assembled forthwith, and it was resolved that as no other opportunity would probably offer ^for a considerable time, they would rush upon the Duke, and deliver the city from his oppression, as he entered the Church of St. Stephen to attend High Mass on Christmas morning. This ancient and venerated dome had been arrayed with tasteful mag- nificence for the reception of the Prince, and the 2* 18 THE CONSPIRATOES OF MILAN. unusual solemnity of the functions of that Christ- mas-tide were likely to draw together a great multi- tude of people. " It is enough if we give the signal," said Carlo, "and all Milan will rise up in vengeance against the tyrant." " Especially," said Master ]N'icholas, " if they be- hold such a bright example given by a member of the illustrious house of Yisconti." " Whether they rise or not," said the ferocious Lampugnano, " if I can but approach him, and my good steel do not fail for the hrst time, the Christ- mas of 1476 will be the last one celebrated by Ga- leazzo Sforza." Young Girolamo felt as big as a hero, and was just opening his mouth to utter some high-flown sentiment, when the sound of a trumpet, and al- most simultaneously the trampling of horses, was heard in the street. The three young men ran to open the large window of the school-room, which out of respect to a female convent on the opposite side of the way, was screened with a high jalousie- blind, so that they could see through it without be- ing observed from the street. The noise was occasioned by a cavalcade of knights and gentlemen who accompanied the Signor of Milan on his return to the city. The sight of the haughty Lord passing on, so near them, proudly mounted on a richly-caparisoned steed, and in high spirits, served not a little to inflame the ha- THE CONSPIRATORS OF MILAN. 19 tred borne him by our heroes. Carlo saw in him the usurper of a state that belonged to his family. Girolamo a tyrant, the removal of whom would gain him merit before God, and the fame of a Bru- tus in the eyes of the world — as Master Mcholas had taught him to believe. Lampugnano a prince, the downfall of whom would enable him to pay his numerous debts, and change his present untoward circumstances for the better. As for Master Mcho- las, he thought of his slighted hexameters, and of the strokes inflicted on their author, and his soul waxed fierce within him while gazing at the prince. He imagined himself suddenly leaping from the window, running up to him, dragging him by the leg from horseback, and while he pierced him to the soul, crying out, " nunc morere" — with the rest of a passionate quotation from Yirgil. While the four worthies are giving vent to the expression of their indignation, and mutually inflaming their minds against Galeazzo, it will be but just to give the reader a short account of that personage, taken from the most venerable chronicles of his age. Galeazzo Sforza was the son of Francesco Sforza, one of the most famous generals of his time, who, by his extraordinary valor and unshrinking perse- verance, had succeeded in raising himself from the lowest rank of society to the command of the forces of the commonwealth- of Milan. Some years past, during which the power of his adherents and the 20 THE CONSPIEATOES OF MILAN". fame of liis exploits augmented, lie was installed in the ducal chair of that ancient and powerful city. When Francesco died Galeazzo was in France, but his mother, Bianca, despatched a messenger to him with the utmost haste, informing him of the event, and pressing him to return speedily to Milan. Ga- leazzo departed immediately for his native land. One of the petty signors, who, in those days, were perpetually on tlie look-out for adventures which might increase their fame or replenish their coffers, gave chase to this fat bird of passage, who with the greatest difficulty, and only by frequently changing his assumed garb, escaped being taken, and got in safety over the borders. He passed in disguise and alone through the frontier cities of Lombardy, but soon after made a triumphant entry into Milan. The city had been kept quiet and peaceable by the prudence of Bianca, and obeisance was made with- out reluctance to Galeazzo as their liege lord by the nobles and the j^eople. Galeazzo was young and brave, and of a noble appearance, adorned with every attribute of manly beauty. But his people soon ceased to like liim on account of his eccentricities, which finally ended in positive tyranny. He forsook the path pointed out to him by the example of his wise and heroic father, and by his profligacy and cruelty became the curse of his country and the detestation of his subjects. This circumstance gave confidence to the conspira- tors, who separated with the firm resolution of ac- THE CONSPIRATOKS OF MILAN. 21 complisliing tlieir rasli designs or perishing in the attempt It was Christmas morning. The wide square be- fore the Chm'ch of St. Stephen, as well as the inte- rior of the sacred edifice, was crowded with people. Tlie priests robed in their most costly vestments stood in the sanctuary ready to begin the solemn rites of high mass ; and from the balustrades of the sanctuary, the men on the right hand, and the wo- men on the left, extended in two long columns down to the main door, which was wide open in expectation of the Duke. He soon arrived in the midst of a splendid retinue, and with his liabitual airiness and levity was now skipping up the steps, and just on the point of entering the church. It caused a general titter amongst the nobles who preceded the Duke, to see Andrea Lampugnano come out to meet them, with a letter in his hand, begging them to make way for him, as he wished to present it to Galeazzo. It is quite usual for the people in Italy, even in our day, to present petitions to Princes and Prelates on such solemn occasions as these, when they are on foot, and can be approached and spoken to even by the poor.' Hence the motion of Lampugnano in an ordinary ]3erson would have occasioned no surprise. But it caused, as we have said, a general sensation amongst the nobles and officials to see him in the attitude of a petitioner. Turning to one another, they said, with an undis- guised laugh : "There is that odd fish Andrea, with 22 THE CONSPIRATORS OF MILAN. his old complaint against the Bishop of Como." They hastened to open a pass for him, and ever j eye was turned to the Duke, who, it was expected, would indulge, according to his wont, in some sarcastic re- mark at the expense of Andrea, or make him look more foolish still, by unceremoniously pushing him out of the way. But what was the terror and dis- may of the multitude, when, beholding Lampugnano, with his left hand, toss the folds of his long velvet cape over his shoulder, his right arm rose in the air, and a dagger gleamed upon their sight ! With the rapidity of lightning, it descended with dreadful force upon the Prince, and deeply pierced his breast. The assassin aimed another stroke at his temple, and almost simultaneously Carlo Yisconti and Girolamo Olgiato assailed him from behind. A general uproar and tumult arose amongst the people, the boldest of whom, guided by their first impulse of humanity, notwithstanding the general hatred towards him, rushed to the rescue of the Duke. But before assist- ance could be given, and in spite of his own noble efforts, overpowered, and pierced with wounds, the unfortunate Duke fell heavily to the ground. Eipeo, a veteran follower of Galeazzo's father, upon seeing his youthful master wounded, drew his sword and attacked Lampugnano, who, intimidated by the general rise against him, made an attempt to escape by casting himself in the midst of the terrified crowd of females, and endeavoring to gain the side door of the church. He dealt, however, in retreating, a THE CONSPIRATORS OF MILAN. 23 blow of such desperate weiglit at Ripeo, that the whole clmrch swam around before the old soldier's bewildered senses, and staggering backwards, he became wholly unable to pursue the fugitive. At this critical moment, an Ethiopian named Gallo, whom the Duke had redeemed from slavery, threw himself on the assassin, who was already wounded, and succeeded in despatching him. The people had rushed to the doors, and the church was soon empty. The Priests, coming down from the altar, closed the doors, and found three dead bodies on the pave- ment : that of Duke Galeazzo, by whose side lay the faithful Kij)eo, and at some distance Lampug- nano, grappling the cold stones with his nails and teeth. Carlo Yisconti and Girolamo Olgiato had been fortunate enough to abscond amidst the fright- ened multitude, and by passing rapidly along the most unfrequented streets in the early part of the fray, succeeded in reaching the gates and effecting their escape from the city. But, taken a few days afterwards, they were condemned to be quartered alive. It was found impossible to induce the young Girolamo to repent of the part he had taken in the assassination of his Prince. He persisted in saying that his act was such as to merit a reward from heaven, and undying praise upon earth. While in prison, the day before his execution, he wrote a short Latin poem, which has been preserved, on the "Un- certain Power of Tyrants." As for Master Nicho- las, he had taken good care not to get so near the 24: THE CONSPIRATOES OF MILAN. scene of action as to preclude escape in case of any- sinister occurrence, and the instant he perceived that the multitude did not side with his associates, he scud away with the swiftness of the deer, and did not stop until he had left the walls of Milan far behind him. As it came to be known, however, that he had poisoned the mind of Girolamo, and had been the cause of the false heroism of that un- happy youth, he was sought after with particular diligence. Some Florentine soldiers, belonging to Lorenzo de' Medici, finally discovered him as he lay ensconced at a considerable distance off in the mountains. He was brought back to Milan, and hung by the neck as a traitor. The death of Galeazzo Sforza was the cause of great troubles in the Duchy, for as he had left an only son, eight years of age, the most fatal dissen- sions ensued for the succession, in which several Italian Princes and Commonwealtlis took sides. All and the whole of wliicli veritable narration is [ an important lesson for the potentates of this world, f who vainly hope to reign in peace, if they do not secure the affection of their subjects by the impar- tial administration of justice; and a Avarning to schoohnasters, who may one day bitterly regret both having instilled wrong principles into the minds of their scholars, and having applied the magisterial rod to their backs at the impulse of spite and passion. THE LAST GRAND MASTER OF MALTA. THE LAST GKAND MASTER OF MALTA. ^^ M"^ ^^^' *^^* ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^®* -^^^^ beaten fare ITX badlj, is my motto." " But what will all Europe say when it reads an absolute renunciation of all claims on Malta, Gozo, and Comino, made by our Order, almost without resistance ?" " And what, pray, has your Order done for France, that I should seek to guard its honor and its inte- rests ? You are the secret allies of England and the open friends of Eussia, and you have denied water to our fleet, when we had no other port at hand that could relieve our wants." "But, General"— the rest of the reply was cut short by a deep sigh. " Come, come, my good friend," said the General, " Malta is now in the hands of the French Republic, and nobody can wrest it from them. You, at all •events, have no reason to consider yourself ill- treated. Look at article 2d. ' A pension of three 28 THE LAST GRAND MASTER OF MALTA. Imndi-ed thousand francs a year, not to cease unless it be replaced by a duchy in Germany.' " The speaker at these words placed the point of his fore-finger on a parchment that lay open before him, and raised his eyes to those of his interlocutor. This conversation was carried on in the Parisio palace at Yaletta, the capital of the Island of Malta, on the 16th of June, 1798. The speakers, two mili- tary personages of high rank, were seated at a table covered with papers and documents, among which the parchments imder discussion. One was dressed in the uniform of a General of the Eepublic of France ; his cocked hat mounted with the tricolored cockade, was on the floor near his chair. His hair was black, and combed straight down to hi^ fore- head, his eyes dark and piercing, his lips firmly compressed, his form short and muscular, his move- ments quick and determined, almost angry in their imperiousness. The other was a tall German Knight, with blue eyes, fair skin, and rosy cheeks, an anxious, unsettled, and timid gaze. He wore the robe of St. John, and his breast was adorned with the Grand Cross of the Order. Their colloquy was now ended by the signing of two copies of a written agreement to which they affixed their names as follows : signed : " Br. Ferdi- nand de IIonq)esch, G. M. of the Order of St. John." Signed " Bonaparte." The Grand Master now rose, and was courteously escorted by the General to the door, wliere he took his leave. THE LAST GRAND MASTER OF MALTA. 29 The Grand Master wended his way slowly along the strada reale, and having reached the esplanade in froiit of the great chiirch of St. John, he dismissed his attendants, who retired to the Hostelry or Palace of the Grand Master, while Hompesch ascended the step>s leading to the church. Twiliglit was now spreading its grey wings over the city, his troubled soul needed the quietness and solitude of the hour. Leaning against a pilaster of the fa9ade, he cast his eyes upon the city. On his right hand lay the Grand Porto, bristling with towers and fortifications, which had withstood all the power of the East for well nigh three centuries. Tlie broad bastions of La Cotton era and Yittoriosa seemed to protect the bay against any incursion from the land, while the battlemented rocks and promontories of Corradino, Senglea, and Bighi, guarded the land against any approach from the bay. On the left hand side stretched the great harbor of Marsamuscetto, the quarantine and lazaretto grounds of the island. Here also every point of ground was manned with a strong tower, and every indentation ended against a broad bastion. Between these two bays runs out to sea the tongue of land upon which stands Yaletta. Tlie extreme point is guarded by an impregnable fort, on whose summit blazes a light-house for miles out to sea. The extreme points of the shore facing the lantern on the riglit and left, are crowned in like manner by giant forts. On tlie side of the Grand Porto stands Fort Ricasoli, on the side of the Porto 30 THE LAST GRAND MASTER OF MALTA. di Quarantena or Marsamuscetto, stands Fort Tin- nier. Il^earer at hand, scattered here and there among the houses of the natives of the island, were the splendid hostelries of Castile, France, Aragon, Anvergne, Provence, Italy, England, and Germany, the abodes of the Knights of the different tongues or countries. Tliis fair and famous city, this whole island with the neighboring islands of Gozo and Comino, all these haughty knights of every nation, all these for- tifications down to curtain and fosse, scarp and ra- velin, had been subject to his command up to the present day. To-morrow's sun would behold him without power, and all this subject to another mas- ter. " Still all is not lost ; three hundred thousand francs a year or a dukedom in Germany is some- thing to be considered," quoth the Grand Master. " But will not all Europe spurn me as a traitor or at best a coward ?" The Grand Master could find no satisfactory an- swer to this serious question. Tlie blood mounted to his cheeks and mantled his throbbing temples. lie shut his eyes convulsively to banish the hateful thought, and buried his face in his hands. How long his sad and painful reverie lasted the Knight was unable to explain, nor could he account for his manner of entering the church. He found himself, liowever, kneeling not far from the door of the sub- terranean chapel which contains the tombs of tlie Grand Masters of the Order. As he gazed down THE LAST GRAND MASTER OF MALTA. 31 the gloomy stairway leading from the church to the vault, he perceived a dim spark of light, which gra- dually quickened into life, and grew larger and brighter, shedding around a blue and ill-omened gleam. By this light he saw a confused sparkling of helmets and shields, swords and spurs, and then a group of Knights of St. John, who moved up one after the other from the vault and marched towards the wicket of the railing before the grand altar. He observed that every Knight wore tlie insignia of a Grand Master, and as they passed into the sanctu- ary he recognised distinctly the features of ISTicholas Cottoner, Manoel de Yilhena, Lisle Adam, Pinto, Zondadari, and the great Lavallette, whose appear- ance was identical with the statues or painted por- traits on the monuments in the aisles of the church. Suddenly a report of all the cannon in the hun- dred and one forts of the island burst upon his ear with a deafening crash. The church was lit up with a blaze of light from a thousand torches, showing distinctly the smallest emblems and gilded lines along its richly painted sides and ceiling, and the tinted panes of its storied w^indows, and even the inscriptions on the tombs of marble and bronze. The whole nave of the church is paved with the tomb-stones of Knights of the Order. Each slab now trembled, flashed, and blew open, and from each started up a warrior. Tlie whole space was filled with the sparkling armor, and the nodding plumes of the dead come to life again. A Knight 32 THE LAST GRAND MASTER OF MALTA. in the armor of Auvergne marclied up tlie middle aisle and unfolded the grand gonfalon of the Order in front of the altar, and at his side stood pages bearing the well known " sword of Religion," that which Philip II. had bestowed upon the great La- vallette. A peal of martial music welcomed the standard of St. John, victorious in many a hard- fought battle, and clouds of incense curled around it and rose towards the ceiling, filling the church with a grateful odor. At the foot of the altar stood a bishop, arrayed in full pontificals, supported by deacons, sub-deacons, and the ranks of the minor clergy. Every one knelt as the venerable prelate made the sign of the cross, and began to recite the " Introit," all joining in the responses, while the " Kyrie eleison" was intoned from the gallery at the end of the church, and the full harmonious peal of the organ accompanied its majestic notes. The "Gloria in excelsis" and " Credo in unum Deum," were intoned at the altar and sung in turn by the choir. High mass went on with all the majestic rites and ceremonies of the Eoman Pontifical. The deacon, at its end, turned to the people and chanted " Ite missa est," and the bishop having bowed and kissed the altar, assumed the mitre, and turning, crozier in hand, to the war- like congregation, he gave them his benediction in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Tlie last gospel was read, and as the bishop pronounced the words, " Verbum caro factum THE LAST GRAKD MASTER OF MALTA. 33 est," every knee was bent to the ground, and high mass was over. The bishop was now conducted to his throne, and disrobed of the brilliant vestments he had worn while officiating at mass. He laid aside his mitre, sparkling with gold and precious stones, and put on a plain white one without ornaments, such as is used in seasons of penance, or in masses of requiem for the dead. He was clad with a cope of dark pur- ple, and sat without speaking on the faldistorium or episcopal chair. The deacon, who was a priest of the order of St. John, now stood before the bishop and said : " Most Illustrious and Eeverend Lord, the Knights of the Order of St. John here present ask you, whether it is pleasing to you that the chair of honor of this chapter be filled ?" The Bishop answered — " Placet." The master of ceremonies and two pursuivants in complete armor, approached the terrified Hompesch in the corner where he knelt, and led him into the midst of the ghostly assembly. As it is usual on entering the choir, he bowed to the bishop and to the assembled knights, turning first to the left and then to the right. His greeting was not noticed, and every eye was bent to the ground. He was conducted to the stall of the Grand Master, which no one had occu- pied during mass, and thus filled the most conspicu- ous seat in that august assembly, next to the episco- pal chair. The well-known form of the Grand Mas- 3 34 THE LAST GRAND MASTER OF MALTA. ter Pinto, the immediate predecessor in office of Hompesch, now glided to the middle of the choir. While he spoke a dead silence reigned thronghont the assembly, and the lights seemed to bnm bine. " I hereby do solemnly impeach Ferdinand de Hom- pesch as a false traitor of the honor of God, and the weal of the Order of Knights Hospitallers, which he solemnly swore to nphold, and I ask that the sen- tence he deserves be passed npon him in this noble assembly of his brethren and predecessors in office." The nnhappy knight trembled from head to foot, and when solemnly interrogated by the bishop, what he had to say in his defence, his tongne cleaved to the roof of his month, he conld not ntter a word. The bishop now arose: "In accordance with the canons of the Chnrch, and the constitution of the Order of St. John, it is decreed, if it please the chapter, that Ferdinand Hompesch, as a recreant knight and a false traitor, be degraded from Knight- hood." All answered, " Fiat ! fiat ! fiat !" Tliongh no confusion ensued, some questions were now asked, and were briefly answered by the bishop, but the luckless knight was unable to discern by which of the ghostly Hospitallers those questions were put. What he was able to hear of these questions and answers ran thus : "What shall become of the filthy lucre for wliich he sold our \AiU\d to the stranger ?" ** He shall never touch it." THE LAST GRAND MASTER OF MALTA. 35 " What of the German Principality, the further and fouler bribe ?" " He shall never possess it." " What of the right of ownership transferred by him to the French Commander ?" " It shall pass from the French soldier to a British sailor." " What price shall England pay for the island which she thus wrests from the Commander of the French ?" " She shall give him another island in return for this:' Three of the spectre knights now went up to the trembling Hompesch ; one of them was Lavallette. Seizing him by both arms, they led him outside of the sanctuary rail. Here one of them tore from his neck the grand cross of St. John, the second un- buckled his sword and took it from his waist, while Lavallette, unsheathing his own historic blade, struck off from his heels the spurs of knighthood. Overwhelmed with a sense of utter shame and hopeless misery, the degraded Grand Master covered his face with his hands. When he dared to breathe and look up again, he found himself leaning against a pilaster in front of the Church of St. John, which was dark and silent as the tomb, amid the deepening shades of night. Two days after, Ferdinand Hompesch was put on board a vessel bound for Trieste, and left Malta never more to return. He was forced to sign a 36 THE LAST GRAND MASTER OF MALTA. resignation of his title of Grand Master of the Order of Knights Hospitallers, which was assumed by the schismatic Paul I., Emperor of Eiissia. ^- He made many useless efforts to obtain the money ^ promised him in the name of the French Eepubhc, ' and finally died poor and despised in Montpelier. Shortly after his departure a British fleet, com- manded by Lord Admiral Nelson, entered the port of Yaletta. The tri-colored flag of the Jacobins was struck, and the Union Jack has floated ever since over the castles and palaces of Malta, Gozo, and Comino. f^ ^The Sword of Religion was hung up as a curi- ^ osity in one of the museums of Paris, and he who hung it there perished on a rocky island of the Indian Ocean, prepared for his reception by the hospitality of the Parliament of Great Britain. KEMINISCENCES OF ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUOKI. REMINISCENCES OF ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORL THE writer of this sketch was seated in the sha- dow of the great colonnade on the morning of the memorable 26th of June, 1839, when the grand procession which began the august ceremonies of Liguori's canonization came tbrth from the eastern door of the Vatican . The way was covered with yellow sand, strewn with laurel and boxwood, and the countless flowers of the season ; and the massive pillars on each side were hung with damask and gold cloth, or festooned with graceful wreaths of evergreen. Tlie hymn of praise soared to heaven, swelled at first by the clear silvery voices of the youth of the sanctuary clad in snow-white surplices, emblematic of the purity of their hearts, and then by the manlier tones of the sons of many and many a religious brotherhood, whose penitential garb showed the austere discipline and attested the re- mote antiquity of their several institutions. Then followed tlie students of the foreign colleges, and 40 REMINISCENCES OF ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI. the chapters of the venerable clergy of Rome, mar- shalled under the standards of those ancient basi- licas where Constantine and Helena knelt in prayer, where Leo and Gregory expounded the saving word. Hundreds had swept gracefully by clad in the robes of their station or office, when the towering Gonfa- lon came in view, on wdiich a master hand had painted the humble Liguori in the attitude of prayer. It was followed by ninety-seven bishops, and forty- seven cardinals, and the high priest of the Chris- tian church — the venerable Gregory XYI. sur- rounded by all the state and splendor of the Roman court. The scene at this point was enlivened by festive peals of martial music, issuing from the mass of infantry and cavalry that closed the procession. The crowd of people who flocked together in the great Church of St. Peter, and far and near around it on this occasion, well nigh defies calculation. In Rome few stayed at home during the hours of the ceremony, unless children, the old and infirm, their attendants, and those inmates of the cloister whose rules did not allow of their appearing abroad. Sup- posing all these to have been seventy-five thousand, we have over one hundred thousand left who were free to attend if they would, and all these pressed towards the centre of attraction. Tlie night before the ceremony a room could not be had for love or money, and the police reported present in the city sixty thousand strangers. In addition to all these, long columns of men and women, from every town, REMINISCENCES OF ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI. 41 village, and liamlet, in the neighborhood of Rome, poured down from the mountains and across the level campagna on the mormng of the great festi- val. Many of these "paesani" had started long before sunrise, and were headed bj priests and friars chanting the Rosary, or Italian hymns, all joining in the responses. They poured in through every gate of the city, and drew together on the vast esplanade in front of St. Peter's. Here they reposed and refreshed tliemselves while the ceremo- nies inside the church were being brought to a close, and then knelt devoutly at the solemn benediction of the Pope, to receive which was the object of their pilgrimage. Tliey took up then their line of march back to the hills of Frascati, Albano, Pales- trina, Sabina, and Umbria, with supreme indepen- dence, and generally without even entering the church In the midst of this immense assemblage there was one person who excited great interest in every beholder. He had been chosen, as a special distinc- tion, to bear the silken tassel of a cord which hung from the lofty standard on which was painted the new Saint, Alphonsus. He was a grey-haired old man, there was no effort at stateliness in his gait, his eyes w^ere turned to the ground, and down his cheeks streamed tears he was unable to restrain. That old man was the Chevalier Liguori, nephew to the Saint. He had often been caressed by him when a child, had listened to instruction from his 3* 42 REMINISCENCES OF ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI. lips, and had been confirmed by his hands, and he now lived to take part in the solemnities of his exal- tation to the honors of the Catholic altar, of his election to be a father and patron of the Christian world. Happy old man ! What conflicting emo- tions must have filled his heart at that hour ! How fervently he must have prayed to the Saint and craved his intercession, no longer in the silent communings of his own heart, but in unison with the joyful hymns of the infallible Church of God. The triumphal standard of Liguori was followed by four others sacred to four Christian heroes, one of whom was St. Francis di Geronimo, of the Society of Jesus, justly styled the Apostle of i^aples ; for that city was sanctified by the splendor of his vir- tues, and the labors of his untiring zeal. St. Francis was distinguished by the gift of miracles and pro- phecy. He was an old man when the mother of Alphonsus brought her infant son to him, that he might give him his blessing. He did so with great tenderness, and turning to the lady : " This child," said he, " will live to a good old age, for he will reach his ninetieth year. He will be a Bishop, and the Lord will do great things through his means." Did the holy man see unveiled before his mystic vision the splendor of the sacred rites that were to honor their joint memories on the same day, amid the pious joy of generations yet unborn ? It was a noble and generous resolution that led REMINISCENCES Of^ ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI. 43 the Saint to embrace the priesthood, with all its toils and sufierings, its cares and its joys. Gifted with a pleasing exterior, an amiable dispo- sition, acknowledged abilities, an admired taste for music and poetry, winning manners, and the spirit and liveliness which mark the high-born youth of Xaples, the young nobleman had before him every prospect of a brilliant career in the world. He obeyed his father's wishes in the choice of a profes- sion, and graduated with honor as a Doctor of Laws. His fine talents, his devotion to study, and his per- sonal integrity, soon mad^ him known to the public and gained him both practice and reputation. He was about twenty-five when a lawsuit between two princes on a question of feudal rights attracted con- siderable attention in the Neapolitan Courts, and the young attorney was chosen for counsel by one of the contending parties. This case was by far the most important yet entrusted to his care, and weighty interests were at stake in its result. He studied closely for a whole month, and came into Court ready at all points for trial. The merits of the case and the reputation of the lawyers retained, by different parties interested, had drawn together large num- bers of the profession, and a crowd of nobles and citizens. The young pleader spoke with an earnest- ness that showed his heart was in his work. He had carefully examined the voluminous document- ary evidence naturally connected with an old-fa- shioned lawsuit upon a question of tenure and pro- 44: REMINISCENCES OF ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUOEI. prietorsbip, and he Tras so learned and so Incid in bringing forward and arranging his authorities, that he was evidently producing upon the Court the same eifect his eloquence had already produced upon out- siders. The presiding Judge, who took a paternal interest in young Liguori, secretly rejoiced at the victory his young friend seemed sure to gain. Tlie justness and point of his argument had been unmis- takable, and the eloquent young advocate, while pressing home its obvious conclusions, took care not to cumber and obscure it with side issues of irrele- vancy or minor importance. A murmur of applause ran through the hall when he sat down. The oppo- site counsel was now on his feet, but the general impression seemed to be that he could have little indeed that was sensible to bring forward in reply. He did not open a debate, but coolly pointing to the papers which lay scattered around, he begged his eloquent and learned friend to examine somewhat more closely a passage in one of the deeds. The piece alluded to was a document upon which his argument had been mainly based, and Alphonsus turned without hesitation to the passage in point, with the confidence of a man who had previously given it his serious attention. His opponent eyed him closely, and in spite of his good breeding, and the punctilious decorum of Courts in olden times, his face was radiant with a smile of triumph. Alphonsus read, and as he read he grew ashy pale. Strange as it may seem, in the intense application REMINISCENCES OF ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI. 45 with which he had pored time and again over that deed, he had failed to notice the two simple letters of the monosyllable " I^o /" He had dwelt upon the passage with such eagerness in his harangue, that his less interested opponent had noticed in his quotation the omission of the negative particle. The two unnoticed letters were now the only ones visible to the unhappy young lawyer. The fatal negative seemed to be written in flame, and seared his very eyeballs. The thought shot through his mind that the whole fabric of his defence was tumbled to the ground, his merit reduced to ridiculous insignifi- cance, the case lost to his client, his personal cha- racter dishonored, and he himself placed before the Court and the public in the light of a knave or a fool. These reflections occupied but an instant, during which the young man nearly fainted. For a few moments there was a scene in that dignified old court. The confusion and dismay of Alphonsus was so unaffected that all suspicion adverse to his honesty vanished at once from every mind. The presiding Judge endeaA^ored kindly to raise his spi- rits, so suddenly and liopelessly crushed. He bore public witness to his integrity and ability, and assured him that misapprehensions like his were not of unfrequent occurrence, in spite of every precau- tion and long experience at the bar. The unlucky youth trembled from head to foot, and stammered out, " I have been deceived — pardon me — the fault is mine," and left the hall. As he went down 46 KEMINISCENCES OF ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI. stairs towards the street-door, he was heard to ex- claim, with emotion, " World, treacherous world ! I have fomid out what thou art. I am not lit for thee !" When he reached his rooms, he shut him- self up, and gave vent to his long suppressed feel- ings in a torrent of tears. He passed three days in this dreadful solitude without admitting a visitor, or partaking of any nourishment. The evil spirit who tempted the Son of Man in the desert, must have sorely straitened the bruised heart of Alphonsus. But the promptings of human respect, and ambition, and pride, and despair, and every other selfish pas- sion were nobly and successfully driven back. His reflections were not those of a disappointed man of the world, but those rather of a Christian from whose eyes a veil is suddenly withdrawn. His hours of retirement were spent at the foot of the Crucifix, and his plans for the future were irrevocably formed. The faithfulness with which he kept his vow, then taken, to serve God, and Him alone, forms part of the history of the Church during the last century, and must be gathered from more learned pages than those of this little sketch. The Saints of God are suited, by a wise Provi- dence, to the age in which they live, and the special gifts they receive, fit them to meet the special wants of the people to wliom they are sent. In the days of Saint Alphonsus Liguori there prevailed a fatal coldness of religious feeling that paved tlie way for the triumph of unbelief in ihe fairest realms of REMINISCENCES OF ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI. 47 Catliolic Europe. To the Saint, therefore, was granted a heart burning with zeal in the cause of the Church, and a mind stored with practical wis- dom to teach her law, and guide men in its keeping. A noble youth — a gifted and successful student — an eloquent and brilliant speaker — a ready, accurate, and popular author — an exemplary Priest — a fer- vent religious — -a great and holy Bishop, he made himself all unto all, that he might gain all unto Christ. He received in heaven the reward he had earned by the saving of countless souls, and not many years went by before the highest glory that man can win was given to his memory on earth. In the autumn of 184— the writer had an oppor- tunity of visiting the Convent of San Michele dei Pagani, the mother-house of the Pedemptorists. It was here their holy founder passed the last years of his life, having obtained permission from the Pope to resign into other hands his Diocese of Sant' Agata dei Goti. Pagani is a little village near JS^ocera, through wliich a railway train now bears the travel- •ler on his way from [N'aples to La Cava. The body of St. Alphonsus rests in a side-chapel of the same church in which he so often preached in his own earnest and affectionate style, and where he passed hour after hour in sweet communion with his God. A screen is removed from before the altar, and you can there kneel down and pray, and look at him as he sleeps the sleep of the just, dressed in the same pontifical vestments, wearing the same mitre, and 48 REMINISCENCES OF ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI. liolding the same crozier whicli lie bore wlien in life. In a little room behind this chapel are shelved in different safes and shown to the pious traveller, the whole of his episcopal wardrobe, the hnmble service of his table, the garments he wore on his person, the books and sacred images so often sancti- fied by the touch of his hands. You are then guided through the same corridors and up the same stairs where he passed when he was, bent down by age and infirmities, led on by some friendly hand, but always with a serene smile on his patriarchal features, and always ready to address a good-natured greeting, an edifying remark, or even an inofi'ensive pleasantry to the religious brethren wdio met him on his way. You push open the plain deal door of his apartment— two modest little rooms, where everything has been left in the same state in which it was found at his death. In the first stands the little altar where, as long as he was able, he used to say Mass, with the same homely ornaments that were daily arranged upon it for his use. In the other room there is his bedstead, with the sheets and coverlet folded upon it, his table with its ink- stand and brass reading-lamp, and near at hand the old arm-chair, whose leather covering is worn by his use. The walls are hung with his crucifix and several sacred images, blackened by the frequent kisses which he impressed upon them in the ardor of liis devotion. The presence and natural appearance of his body, REMINISCENCES OF ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI. 49 and all these relics wliicli bear witness to tlie daily tenor of liis life, produce a singularly pleasing illu- sion. You feel yourself carried back to the time, tlie presence, and the society of the Saint, and you seem to hear him speak, as he has written, in words of varied learning, simple devotion, and world-em- bracing charity, all blending happily together to form the charming style so peculiarly his own. There were three or four very old and venerable men living in the monastery at the time I was guided through it by a kind and polite young father, who showed me all the little wonders of devotion I have been describing. One of these old patriarchs was the father superior of the house, and when a lad, as I was then myself, it was said that he had seen and known St. Alphonsus. Before leaving the little cell, next to the rooms of the Saint, where I was presented to him, I asked him if he would bless with") all the devotion he could, an American boy who ) loved their holy founder St. Alphonsus, and who would, probably, soon become a priest and a mis- sionary. The old man seemed touched by this appeal, and as I knelt before him he raised his eyes to heaven and laid his open hand trembling with age upon my head, and blessed me. I kissed his hand and departed. I learned not long after that the good father had gone to join St. Alphonsus in heaven. THE TIARA UNWORN. i THE TIARA UNWORN. THE seventeenth of Marcli in the year of our Lord 752 was a day of no little excitement in the city of Rome. The last notes of solemn service for the dead had been sung in St. Peter's, where the body of Pope Zachary, loved by the People as a munificent father, and venerated by the Church as a Saint, was now laid in earth near the tomb of the Prince of the Apostles. The Bishops of the suburban Sees, and tlic chief Priests of the city known even at that early period by the name of Cardinals, were assembled in the church of St. Mary Major, delibe- rating on the choice of a successor to Zachary, and a multitude was gathered around them filling the body of the church, and scattered in groups outside, like fragments severed from the bulk of the main crowd. The secret session, the slow scrutiny, and the formal rites of the conclave which the Church, to protect her freedom, has thrown around the elec- tion of her High Priests, were not in force at that earlier and simpler age. The eyes and the hearts I 54 THE TIARA UNWOBN. j of the assembled ecclesiastics soon centred upon j Stephen, a well-known priest, a Roman by birth and \ lineage, a man of approved virtue and noble cha- i racter, and the titular of one of the ancient basilicas. The people soon forgot their grief for the loss of ! the departed Pontiff in their joy at the election of ; one who was their favorite to succeed him. Their ! suffrages in his behalf were free and unanimous ; j and without more ado they rushed into the sane- [ tuary, and bore him triumphantly along with them j to the Patriarchal Basilica of St. John Lateran, ; where it was customary to install the Popes in office. The Clergy and the Magistrates of the city j followed the crowd, and arriving at the Church, | they succeeded in restoring order and taking the \ arrangement of the ceremonies of installation into ] their own hands. These ceremonies now proceeded with propriety and decorum, the people pressed for- | ward and looked on with eager curiosity, but they j were hushed into reverential silence by the voice of the clerical dignitaries reading aloud the prayers i which accompanied the rite of possession foiTnally | and solemnly taken of the Lateran Patriarchium by j the newly created Pontiff. The Palace had been | nearly rebuilt and tastefully decorated by Zachary, its cloisters, staircases, and numerous apartments were ready fitted and furnished, and after the Te Deum was sung at tlie Grand Altar of the Church, Pope Stephen II. entered and reigned in the impe- rial Halls of the Lateran. THE TIAEA UNWOKN. 55 On Saturday morning, the 18tli of Marcli, he cele- brated Mass in a private chapel ; it was the last Mass he was to say as a simple priest, for on the next morning he was to be consecrated Bishop, and take his seat upon the throne in the sanctuary, the first dignitary of the Church in holiness of order, as he was already in extent of jurisdiction. He passed the day in private devotions, to prepare for the august ceremony, seeing only those persons to whom it was impossible to refuse admittance on afikirs of pressing importance. The bustle of arrangements on a grand and gorgeous scale was going on noisily, gaily, unceasingly in the Palace, in the Church, and throughout the whole city, for everybody was inter- ested in the great coming event, and everybody was to take part in it in some way, whether as actor or spectator. Tlie church was in the hands of carpen- ters, fitting platforms, stalls, and kneeling-benches for the clergy and nobility ; of upholsterers decorat- ing the walls with damask and cloth of gold, can- delabras, and variegated festoonery, and strewing the marble pavement with flowers and evergreens ; and of masters of ceremonies laying out vestments upon the credence tables, chalices, ciboriums, and missals, and Pontificals upon the side-altars, and preparing wine, oil and chrism, bread, tapers and torches, incense, and water in gold and silver ewers, and cruets for the Grand High Mass. Over the din of preparation pealed the roll of the organ and the swelling voice of the choristers rehearsing their 56 THE TIAEA UNWORN. parts for the service. The Magistrates and their subalterns were hurrying hither and thither, giving and receiving orders, the military scoured their mail, and chose out their finest scarfs and gaudiest plumes for an effective and strong muster ; and in the lower part of the palace, hot cooks and cross waiters rattled up and down, and ran against each other in their eagerness to forward all things for the sumptuous banquet, which was to follow close upon the great religious celebration. The eventful morning of Sunday, March 19th, the Feast of St. Joseph, dawned with all the richness of light, and the freshness and purity of atmosphere that belongs to a southern spring; and the sun, as it poured its rays athwart the mountains of Tusculum and the open Campagna upon Rome, illumined a city astir with crowds in holiday attire, all hastening towards the Lateran Basilica. The Holy Father had not as yet come forth from his private apartments, but the antechamber was already filled with groups of the noble and exalted of State and Church, and with many distinguished strangers, lay and clerical, who had come on important business from foreign lands. There were the suburban Bishops of Ostia Sabina, Albano, Antium and Palestrina, and those of Umbria and Tuscany, the Cardinal Priests of the Roman parishes, and the Abbots of the Monks and Canons Regular wliose monasteries stood in the city and its environs. Ambrose, Cliief of the notaries, the Senator, the Judges, and Magistrates of Rome THE TIARA UNWORN. 57 appeared in their robes of office. Tlie oriental garb of another group designated the envoys of the Greek Emperor Constantine Copronymus. They had come to Rome to treat of the vexed question excited by the Iconoclasts or image-breakers, and now had good reason to look serious, news having just been received of the invasion by the Arabs of the fairest portion of the Eastern Emperor's dominions. Legates from, liavenna were anxiously awaiting an opportunity to solicit the powerful pro- tection of the Father of the faithful against Astolfo, King of the Lombards, who had taken their city, and driven from its gates the Exarch Euty chins, and now threatened to march upon Home itself. In another part of the room were Burchard, Bishop of "Wurtsbourg, and Fulrad, Abbot of St. Denys, Ambassadors from Pepin le Bref. They came to explain the dethronement of Childeric, who had been shaved a Monk at Sithieu, and to solicit the interest of the Pope in favor of Pepin, formerly Mayor of the Palace, now claiming to be King of Prance, and to recommend to his friendly protection the rights of Pepin, and his son, afterwards l^iown as the Emperor Charlemagne. Moro pleasing and peaceful news was brought by Monks from the IS'orth, who had been sent by the great Apostle of Germany, St. Boniface, Archbishop of Mentz. They bore letters of the Saint, begging that his disciple, the Englishman Lullus, formerly a Monk of Malmes- bury, might be appointed Archbishop to succeed 4 68 THE TIARA UNWORN" him, or at least to administer a portion of liis immense archdiocese, which embraced the cities and environs of Tongres, Cologne, Worms, Spire, Utrecht, as also Strasbourg, Angsburg, Constance, and Coire. Steel armor and purple cassock, the serge habit of the monk and the flowing toga of the patrician brushed against each other in the stately halls that led to the audience-chamber of the High Priest of Christendom, and the greatest Monarch of the Universe. The rustle of silks and the hum of conversation was now more and more subdued, and expectation was on tiptoe, for it was momentarily expected that the doors would be thrown open, and a sight obtained of the new Pontiff. The time was near at hand when he would have to descend to the adjoining church, where the solemn rites of his consecration were about to begin. Tlie Chief Master of Ceremonies, in purple cassock and mantle, now appeared at the door lead- ing from the inner apartment, and spoke to the assembled prelates, nobles, and gentry : " Signors, have the complaisance to get ready and form accord- ing to rank, so as to walk in procession to the grand altar of the cluu-ch. Their Excellencies the Arch- bishops, BIsliops, and Prelates, will please enter and pay their respects to the Holy Father, and take their place near his person at the eiiG of the i>roces- sion. The Knights, Chamberlains, and Magistrates, followed by the C'lergy, will have the goodness to form in this room, and move at the word of com- THE TIARA UNWORN. 59 mand down by the royal staircase." The doors were now thrown open, the Prelates entered, and all the vast assembly turned to get a glimpse of the person of his Holiness. He was seated under a ca- nopy in an arm-chair of velvet and gold, at the bottom of the inner chamber, arrayed in papal costume, white cassock, embroidered stole, and camaur, a close-fitting cap of red velvet faced with snow-white lawn. As the distinguished retinue walked majes- tically in, he rose from his chair and stood with the bright rays of the morning sun streaming full upon him. He was of tall and commanding presence, in the full vigor of manhood, and looked a fitting cen- tre figure for the brilliant crowd that gathered around him. He gazed with a smile of paternal kindness upon the dignitaries as they made their obeisance before him, and bowed again and again in friendly recognition of some one, an exalted per- sonage perhaps, who but two short da^^s before had been high above him in office. He now turned to address a few words relative to some domestic affair to one of the officers of the palace who stood, by his side. Suddenly the attention of all present was attracted by a strange alteration in his appearance. Gazing straight before him he continued the trivial instructions he had been giving in a loud and full voice, which grew inarticulate, and ended in an in- audible whisper. His countenance flushed like crimson, and then grew ashy pale. He stretched forth his right hand towards a crucifix which stood 60 THE TIARA UNWORN. upon the table beside him, and then with a groan sank heavily into the chair from which he had risen. The illustrious assembly were struck dumb with astonishment and fear. The court archiater, or head physician, advanced rapidly to his side, and dropping on one knee examined his face, which was already distorted and clammy, and communicated the result of his observations in a hurried whisper to the vene- rable Bishop of Ostia, who stood nearest, as the prelate who was to perform the consecration. The Bishop, after some moments of hesitation, raised his voice, while the crowd held their breath to hear what he would say. " Signors," said the venerable prelate, " Tlie holy Father has been taken suddenly with — " he turned to the doctor with a look of inter- rogation. " Death !" was the sorrowful reply. The dismay of all present at this terrible an- nouncement may be imagined but cannot be de- scribed. All festive sounds were hushed, the gor- geous decorations of the great Lateran Church were taken down and put hastily aside, and couriers were despatched in every direction to convey the dread- ful tidings, in advance, if possible, of those who had left Rome with the news of the new Pope's election. The people slowly and gloomily dispersed, and re- turned to their homes to discuss the particulars of this last terrific excitement, and the lesson upon the nothingness of human glory, of which it aiforded so striking an example. I THE TIAKA UNWORN. 61 Tlie poor sufferer, whom the greatest perhaps had envied, and whom none was now too poor to pity, was borne to liis couch by his tearful attendants. Here he remained in the hands of his immediate friends and of his ecclesiastical brethren, anxious to administer to him the last sacraments. He lingered on for some hours, unconscious the greater part of the time, his disease being a stroke of apoplexy, and died early on Monday morning. -. A Grand Mass of Requiem was sung in St. John Lateran, the Church recommended to God the soul of his vicar upon earth, summoned at such fearfully short notice to appear before his heavenly master, and the tiara which was to have been used at his coronation was placed upon his coffin, to mark, according to custom, the dignity of him whose funeral obsequies were being celebrated in the holy place. % THE EMPEROR'S REVENGE. THE EMPEROE'S REVENGE. ii T DO not know whether the adventures of Sabi- X nus have ever been made the theme of a tra- gedy by any of our modern Poets. So extraordi- nary a subject might well draw tears from spectators now, as it did from those who witnessed it wdien it happened." MUKATOEI. (A Ti'agedy was written on the subject by a I*Teapolitan author in consequence of the great his- torian's suggestion.) Julius Sabinus was born at Langres in Gaul of an ancient and noble family. About the seventieth year of the Christian era he induced the people of his native city to rebel against the Romans, and formed a powerful army, at the head of which he raised the standard of insurrection. His army, how- ever, was not long after defeated and scattered in every direction by the veteran forces of the Empe- ror Yespasian. Sabinus, who might have sought 4* 66 THE emperor's revenge. and found a safe asylum among neighboring barba- rians, preferred to remain in Gaul to be near his wife Eponina, to whom he was deeply and fondly attached. He called together all his servants and freedmen, and gave them to understand that it was his fixed determination to put an end to his life by taking poison. He freed and dismissed all, with the single exception of an old and devoted follower named Martial. He then retired into a subterra- nean structure, used as a burying vault, near a coun- try-house which was his property. In order to give a greater appearance of truth to the report of his death, he dispatched a messenger to Eponina, who assm*ed her that Sabinus was no more, having pe- rished by his own hand. The devoted wife, on the receipt of these sad tidings, swooned away, and for many days refused to partake of any nourishment. Sabinus was struck with fear that she might imitate in reality the pretended death of her husband, and had her therefore secretly apprised of his hiding- place. He begged her, however, to forward his de- signs, and continue to mourn as if for her husband's decease. (it was not long before Eponina paid a secret visit to Sabinus, and she finally resolved to shut herself up with him in his dreadful abode. There the no- ble woman continued to dwell, soothing and sup- porting the crushed spirit of her unfortunate yet de- voted husband. Her anxiety for him was shared by her two little boys, one of whom, on account of THE emperor's REVENGE. 67 his premature physical strength, was named Fortis^ the other Blandus^ to mark the gentleness and sweetness of his disposition. '.^^lutarch tells ns that he saw one of these extraor- dinary children. They grew with unexampled quick- ness, and formed the solace and the hope of their doating j)arents. The misfortunes of Sabinus, how- ever, had not yet come to an end. It happened one day that the trusty freedman Martial, who had en- tombed himself with his' former master and mistress, and who supplied the little family with food, having gone on his usual errand in their behalf, was not seen to return. Night set in. Hours of uncertainty and fruitless expectation ensued. Midnight came on, and Sabinus was seized by the fatal thought that either Martial, of whose fidelity he could not doubt, had been arrested and the place of his retirement found out, or that if undiscovered, he was doomed to see his beloved wife and children die of starva- tion in their dungeon. The dismal forebodings of Sabinus increased, and gnawed his very soul with anxiety. He was soon stretched upon his pallet of straw, the victim of a raging fever. Eponina, ever faithful, bent over him, and nursed him with the tenderest care. The poor little boys pressed up to their mother in great astonishment, asking what was the matter w^ith their father, with so much perseverance, that she finally told them that they were sure to die from starvation, as there was now no hope that Martial would return. 68 THE EMPETROR'S REVENGE. "Why should you grieve for us so much, dear mother?" said the innocent and affectionate Blan- dus. " We will not die, for I am sure Martial will come back. He will not leave us alone to die in this dreadful place." The heart-broken parents could only exchange glances of unutterable despair. They were soon, however, excited to hope by the impetuous Fortis, who, with his usual ardor, rose abruptly exclaiming : " We will get food for you, father ! Are we not able to gather what fruit is to be found in the neighboring forest, and even to get eggs and birds from the nest ? I have followed Martial more than once and climbed the trees for them. Let our mother give us a little basket, and see what we can do." With great reluctance and many injunctions of caution and speed, the fond parents finally consented to let the little boys go. They w^ould have been all starved to death by remaining in the subterranean, without making an effort to procure the means of subsistence. The boys were provided with a little basket, and started on their errand, which they fulfilled with so much address that they soon returned with a goodly provision of nuts, wild berries, and birds' eggs. Tlieir joyful parents overpowered them with caresses, and thanked them as their preservers from a death worse than that of the sword. Sabinus soon recovered his spirits and his health, and the little family were hopeful and happy once more. Sabinus was not without anxiety on account of the THE emperor's REVENGE. 69 continued absence of his faithful freedman, but as many days elapsed and no tidings of danger were heard, his suspicions were gradually lulled, and he thanked Providence that he and his cherished ones were unknown to the outside world or forgotten by it altogether. His security, however, was ill-found- ed. On the reappearance of the freedman, who was reported to have destroyed himself with his master, he was quietly placed under arrest, and suspicions were excited regarding the death of Sabinus himself. As no promise or threat could open the lips of the trusty Martial, the Roman authorities instituted a noise] ess but careful search in the neighborhood where he had been taken. One day when the little boys were engaged, as usual, in a foraging expe- dition near the cave, they were discovered and followed to its entrance, and at the very moment when the unhappy parents were about to share the gifts of their adventurous offspring, they were struck with astonishment and horror by the sight of hostile soldiers who entered their hiding-place. Prayers ) and tears and supplications for mercy were tried in vain by the wretched Sabinus and his wife. The local magistrates knew that the Emperor had ever preserved rankling in his breast a personal enmity against the former Gallic general, and that he who should give him up to his power would render a service not likely to be forgotten. Tlie prisoner was, therefore, placed under a strong guard and thus sent to Pome, accompanied by his Eponina and her children. 70 THE emperor's REVENGE. They were broiiglit before tlie Emperor on a public and solemn occasion, when he was seated on his throne, surrounded by a crowd of nobles and citi- zens. He received Sabinus with great sternness, and upbraided him with the crime of rebellion. It became apparent that the anger of the Emperor against the former enemy of his power was far from having been appeased by time, and that some severe retribution was in store for the wretched Sabinus. Eponina pressed forward, and presented her little children to Yespasian, telling him that " she had raised them in a tomb that there might be more voices to implore mercy for her husband." On hearing the eager pleadings of the devoted woman, and on seeing the innocent children who knelt by her side and sued with her for "mercy and pardon," the emotion of the crowd was in- describable. It is probable that this very sympathy injured the cause of Sabinus. Tlie general charac- ter of Vespasian was one of mildness, but he would not look upon the man before him otherwise than as a traitor and a coward. Turning his head not to see the unhappy suppliants, he commanded them to be dealt with according to the military laws of the empire. Sabinus and his wife were put to death by the axe, and the two children were thrown into a dungeon, where they perished with hunger. Tliey were found dead upon the stony floor, with their arms around each other's neck. The whole family thus became extinct, lest new traitors might grow THE emperor's REVENGE. 71 up and follow in the footstej^s of their rebel ancestor. Historians notice the fact that this cruel sentence left a stigma upon the fair fame of Yespasian, and it was attributed to the vengeance of heaven that he died soon after, and that his house came in a short period of time to a total extinction. THE GHOST OF THE BLACK FRIAR. THE GHOST OF THE BLACK FRIAR. IT was a dreary niglit in JSTovember, 18 — , when Mr. Hawthorne, a Protestant English gentleman, rode ui> to the gates of the Abbey of St. Barnabas, fifteen miles from the town of , on the banks of the far-famed river Po. He had started from Turin early in the morning, in company with a post-chaise, containing his brother and three friends ; but having left the highway to inspect a ruin at some distance across the fields, had got bewildered and lost his road. As nightfall came on, the lights from the casements of the Abbey led him, as his only protection from exposure, and the banditti who then infested the country, to seek hospitality at its gates. It was only the sheerest necessity compelled him to do so. For Mr. Hawthorne was the son of an Evangelical Minister, and his notions of monks and their persecuting spirit, were such as may be more easily imagined than described. As the sturdy lay-brother cautiously unbarred and opened the mas- sive convent gate, the traveller's spirit was somewhat 76 THE GHOST OF THE BLACK FKIAR. reassured by the honest good-nature which beamed from his face ; but a thrill of distrust ran through his veins as he swung back the heavy portal, still eyeing the guest, who had dismounted, and stood, bridle in hand, at the horse's head. Tlie corners of the old monk's handsome mouth at that moment assumed something of a smirk, that seemed to speak a consciousness of having a high-mettled Briton in his power. The gravel creaked beneath their feet as they ap- proached the stable, where the horse was duly cared for, and where his master left him at the invitation of the monk, to repair to the strangers' apartment and partake of some refreshment, which he stood sadly in need of, after his solitary rambles. Not long after supper, the Most Eeverend Father Abbot was announced, and Mr. Hawthorne, on rising, confronted a tall, commanding figure, in whose veins coursed some of the proudest blood of northern Italy's feudal chieftains. The mingled air of grace and majesty which formed the character of the Father Abbot impressed his visitor most favor- ably, and the paternal kindness with which he wel- comed him to the convent halls, and on taking leave bade him a cheerful " good night, and God bless you," tended wonderfully to dispel his gloom and reassure his spirits. Still he could not but think that all this friendliness might be only apparent, while the true end was to lull all anxiety, and put him completely off his guard. He had heard from tra- THE GHOST OF THE BLACK FRIAR. 77 Tellers, of individuals who liad been known to enter similar institutions and never left them. He knew that an English Protestant would seem no better than a heretic in the eyes of the monks, whose blind zeal might lead them to any excess, against one whom they considered as an enemy of God and Holy Mother Church. He retired to rest with a heavy heart, and bitterly repented having at all entered this strange abode. Mr. Hawthorne was, in plain truth, somewhat superstitious. He had been led to believe from early infancy that monks and friars held communion with the evil spirits of the air. He believed, moreover, in presentiment ; and now, do what he would, the firm conviction rested on his mind that some great mishap was going to befall him. He looked anxiously all around the room before even approaching his bed, and longer still before he laid his head on his pillow. Little did he dream of what a night he was about to pass ! ! ^>*,He had not been asleep more than an hour when the wall opposite to his bed exhibited a streak of light. Hawthorne gazed intently upon this unex- pected vision, so as to be sure it was not the work of fancy. He was certain he did not dream, for tlie dark figure of a monk in the black friar's garb de- tached itself from the bright glare formed on the wall, and glided with noiseless tread towards his couch. For a moment the traveller's superstition got the better of him, his flesh crept, and his hair stood on end at the thought that this awful vision 78 THE GHOST OF THE BLACK FRIAR. must be from below. The Ghost glided into a cor- ner of the room, between the bed and the wall. Hawthorne, in turning, made a slight noise, when the figure turned on him, and stood as though shading a light which it held between its hands. Its jaws opened as its eyes rested upon the traveller, for one moment it delayed, then glided to the part from which it came, and vanished. '^Heavens!" thought the Englishman, as he gra- dually recovered from his fright. " Have I truly gazed upon the guilty dead appearing again upon earth, or was this horrid visitor some emissary who precedes the appearance of a cowled assassin ?" The more he thought, the less could he understand of so strange a mystery. He deemed it prudent not to sleep any more, and in spite of hunger, fatigue, and cold, he paced up and down the room until morn- ing. The room was not opened until a late hour, when the monk who had served him while at supper, en- tered to inform him that a post-chaise liad deposited at the gate four gentlemen, who had come expressly to inquire if a traveller answering the description of Mr. Hawthorne had stopped at the Abbey that niirht. When Hawthorne met them in the stran- gers' apartment, what was his joy on discovering that one of the four. was the British Consul. Fear- ful of some foul play, Mr. Hawthorne's brother had requested that official to accompany him and his friends, when they left Turin. Hawthorne deter- THE GHOST OF THE BLACK FEIAR. 79 mined at once to liave the matter of the unearthly vision which had disturbed his slumbers probed to the bottom. The Consul declared that he would take a judicial account of all the evidence. The Abbot was summoned, at Mr. Hawthorne's request, and as the Consul represented that the presence of all the residents of the Institution would lead to a speedier solution of the mystery, the whole commu- nity was assembled in the Convent Eefectory. The circumstances of the visit of eitlier a ghost or an as- sassin, were repeated with nervous accuracy by Hawthorne, who was now roused to a high pitch of excitement and eager desire of revenge. When he had finished, the Abbot turned a search- ing look upon all the bystanders, and charged any one present who knew of this dreadful occurrence, to speak out, in virtue of holy obedience. The Prior of the Convent was the only one who spoke, though what he said gave little satisfaction ; in fact, rather rendered the explanation more difficult. He re- marked that there was a door which led to the room where Mr. Hawthorne had slept, from the corridor of the Infirmary. A silence ensued, when Haw- thorne was observed to grow pale and stagger back. A An old monk, who had a partial charge of the In- //firmary, stepped slowly from the ranks of his breth- ren and walked towards the Abbot. Hawthorne had recognised at once the thin, pale features, upon which the nocturnal lamp had glared. The old man bared his silvery head, and bowed tremblingly at his 80 THE GHOST OF THE BLACK FKIAR. superior's feet. A dead silence ensued as lie began, in a husky Yoice : " Most Keverend Father Abbot, I confess that I know something of this last night's occurrence. I myself was the cause of the English- man's alarm. I know that Brother Francis is a young and giddy lad, and after beads, on my way to bed, I stepped into his room to see if Brother Fran- cis had remembered to jput water in the pitcher ! ! When I got up to the corner where the wash-stand is, I saw the Englishman turn around, and for fear of waking him up, I ran again out of the room." MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. 5 MONASTEEY OF LA CAVA. ONE of tlie most delightful excursions a traveller can enjoy in tlie environs of JSTaples is undoubt- edly a visit to the celebrated monastery of La Cava, more commonly known in the neighborhood under the name of " La TrinitaP Whether he be an artist in quest of beautiful scenery, a student of an- tiquities, or a devout pilgrim, he is sure to be more than satisfied, and to obtain at La Cava both lite- rary and religious instruction. The monastery is situated in a valley of the "West- ern Apennines, four miles from Salerno, and about forty-six from Naples. Leaving Naples in the cars, you are whirled along the edge of its fjir-famed gulf, passing before the royal palace at Portici, then over beds of lava, through Torre Annunziata and Torre del Greco, behind wdiich stands Vesuvius, with its bright column of smoke rising, at times, straight from its fiery basis up into mid air, like a pile of icebergs, at times bending horizontally before the wind, and stretching at an angle with the top of the 84 MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. cone far over the smiling Campania, like some gi- gantic serpent of glass. Your attention is occasion- ally recalled to the mountain by sudden rebuffs, which at that distance sound not much louder than the puffing of the engine, but to a person standing on the crater assume the reality of deafening thun- der, shaking the ground beneath, and followed by volleys of cinders, and red-hot fragments of stone, and crystals, which shoot high up through the smoke, and either fall again into the chasm, or roll down its sides accompanied by streams of burning lava. You are roused from your contemplation of the wonders of nature by the train stopping near Pom- peii, whose miniature palaces and lofty temples shine brightly in the sun, showing you what man was able to erect in the hour of his pride — a monument of Yanity to Silence and Death. Angri, Scafati, Pa- gani, and Nocera are passed in rapid succession. Pagani is endeared to the Christian traveller by the memory of St. Alphonsus Liguori, who made it his dwelling-place for many years, and whose relics are enshrined there, beneath the altar of San Michele, tlie mother house of his Order. Cava is only three or four miles beyond Nocera, on the road to Sa- lerno. Few parts of Italy present a view equal to that of the neighborhood of La Cava for the singular con- trast of wildness and beauty, the whole forming a panorama of romantic grandeur which would be more naturally expected in the mountains of Swit- MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. 85 zerland than on the smiling shores of Campania the Blest. As you ride up the winding road that rnns from the town of La Cava to the abbey, new hills seem to rise suddenly before you, while those you have passed are as suddenly lost to the eye. For a long time you enjoy only an extremely limited horizon, as the rugged path threads its way between a deep precipice on one side and a cluster of mountain-tops on the other, abruptly severed by narrow ravines, and covered with wild vegetation. At an unex- pected turn of the mountain-pass, the smiling valley of Cava opens beneath you far and wide, with its well-cultivated fields, its bright little town, its mean- dering river, and the blue hills in the distance, over which the sun pours a stream of glory upon the enchanting scene. From this point of view two objects especially at- tract the attention of the spectator. On the left hand, the Apennines, swelling in terrific grandeur from the valley, present to the eye their rugged sides covered with a forest of chestnuts, which form a broad mass of deep and dark foliage, and end in a lofty ridge, overtopped again by two banks of naked rock, which join together at the highest elevation, leaving beneath a wide quadrangular opening, which appears in the distance like a great window hewn tln*oug]i the solid mountain-side by the liand of IS^a- ture. This phenomenon has given to the place the appellation of Monte Fenestra (Mount Window), and 86 MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. the effect produced by the rays of the sun shining through this strange aperture is very striking. On the opposite side, a Capuchin convent is descried, whose little courts, gardens, and vineyards look like a landscape traced by art on the side of the hill, which shoots still higher up into a greyish isolated rock in the form of a sugar-loaf. This eminence was formerly crowned by a little fort, the ruins of which are still found scattered about. On an even- ing during the Octave of the Corpus Domini a tem- porary altar is erected there, and a procession wends its way up to it, the festival ending with the Bene- diction of the Blessed Sacrament, given, under the broad canopy of Italy's blue sky, from that sublime height, in full view of all the inhabitants of the val- ley, to their families, their dwellings, their fields, and forests. The whole ascent is illuminated by hundreds of torchss, colored lanterns, and ranges of fireworks, the summit ending in a perfect blaze of splendor. The awful moment of the terminating ceremony is announced by a peal of martial music and the echo of innumerable volleys, the whole pa- geant, combined with the picturesque grandeur of the surrounding scenery, producing an effect which is described as truly magnificent. But return we to the abbey. To find one's self suddenly beneath the gilded ceiling and surrounded by the stuccoed walls of the convent church, after wandering so long amongst the wild fastnesses of the rugged Apennines, is so delightful a surprise as MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. 87 to seem the eifect of magic. This sm'prise is not lessened at discovering what treasures are contained in this happy wilderness. It will not, we hope, prove unacceptable to our readers, if, before describing them, we give a brief account of the origin and early history of the monastery. The date of its foundation has not been established with precision, but Pellegrini and Mabillon refer it to the beginning of the eleventh century. About the year 1006, a monk of illustrious lineage, whose family was allied to the Lombard princes of Salerno, but who was still more distinguished by his virtues than by his noble birth, departed that city, where he had the direction of several monastic institutions, to find a solitude where he might lead a life of penance and prayer, far remote from the noise and (j^jgLui^ of a deceitful world. He discovered a spot answering his pious intentions in one of the wildest defiles of the Metellian valley, called Cava arsiccia^ which name w^as afterwards given to the town situ- ated a mile and a half from the convent. The holy recluse chose for his dwelling an humble hermitage, which a monk of Monte Cassino, called Liutius, had erected long before in the midst of the w^ilderness, hoping to enjoy in its secluded cell that peace and retirement of w^hicli Monte Cassino had been depri- ved, in consequence of the intrusive election of an abbot sustained by the secular power. The odor of the sanctity of Alpherio Pappacar- bone, for this was the name of tlie new inhabitant 88 MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. of La Cava, soon began to diffuse itself abroad. A numerous band of pious persons, who like himself were weary of the world, and desired to embrace a life of peiiection, came to put themselves under his guidance. Alpherio with great reluctance consented to assume the direction of these good brethren, and obeying the mysterious decrees of Providence, which did not permit him to remain in the obscu- rity he had so anxiously sought after, erected in due time a convent and church in that solitary place. The hymn of praise was heard to swell upon the mountain breeze from the lips of a numerous choir, and the steam of the censer soared towards the skies from recesses untrodden before by the foot of man. Alpherio dedicated the new institution to the Ever- blessed Trinity, and taught his twelve companions the rule of Cluny as he had learned it in the monas- tery of San Michele della Chiusa in Savoy. While ambassador at the court of the Emperor Otho the Third, he had been forced by illness during a jour- ney to apply for hospitality at the above mentioned monastery, where he received the habit at the hands of the venerable Abbot Odilon. Several years had elapsed, during which Alpherio trained up his disciples in a life of piety united with study, when he was gathered to his fathers in a good old age. He Avas succeeded in the abbacy by Leo of Lucca, and then by liis nephew, Peter Pap- pacarbone, who, at the request of Leo, had come to their monastery from Cluny. MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. 89 The remains of these venerable abbots repose in the church originally built by their hands, and are justly venerated as the relics of saints. Under their direction, the abbey increased in reputation, and many of the inhabitants of th^ neighboring valleys came to put themselves under its protection. Many flourishing townships were formed in this manner during the Middle Ages, not only in Italy, but in Germany, France, and England. The abbey, invested with the rights of a landlord, formed the nucleus of the increasing settlement, which was pro- tected by the shield of religion, and, when it became necessary, by the sword of the abbot, who was not backward in defending his tenants, if the insolent feudal signior, the marauding Saracen, or the law- less bandit dared to attack them beneath the shade of the convent w^alls. The origin of the town of Cava is usually dated, according to Eustace, from the invasion of Genseric, and the destruction of the neighboring town of Marciana, whose inhabitants took shelter in the mountains, and, at the persuasion of the abbot, settled around the monastery. It was in its highest degree of splendor when Pope Urban the Second, who had been compelled by the rudeness of the times to seek refuge in Sa- lerno, governed by the Duke Roger Bursa, became desirous to give a token of his friendship to its in- mates by consecrating the newly-erected church of the Most Holy Trinity. Urban had formerly been a monk of Cluny, under the name of Odo, and, hav 5* 90 MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. ing followed tlie Abbot Peter to La Cava, he bad passed several years within its walls. Among the privileges granted by Urban to the monks, the most remarkable one is the elevation of Peter to the dignity of a bishop. The Duke Poger likewise invested the abbot and his successors with temporal dominion over all the lands of the abbey. The monks made use of this j^ower to protect the neighborhood from the incursions of the numerous petty princes whose turbulent spirit never permitted them to live in peace with their vassals or in friend- ship with their neighbors. The Abbot Costabile, by the erection of Castel Abate, provided a refuge for the inhabitants of Licosia, as Peter Pappacarbone had done for the vassals of the convent spread over the Marcine valley by the construction of the strong- hold called Corpo delta Cava. Nor is this the only obligation the inhabitants of j the country are under to the Benedictines. During ; centuries of ignorance and barbarism, their convent ! walls were the asylum of science and literature, as '.their precious archives amply testify. Par from the •gaze of the world, the Italian monk spent his life in transcribing the works of the fathers and the classics, while the ancestors of those who now upbraid his memory with the epithets of lazy^ useless^ and igno- rant^ were setting tire to palaces and churches, and tumbling to earth the stately monuments of Roman grandeur and ingenuity. Tliroiigh each succeeding age, the monastery of MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. 91 La Cava continued to be exemplary in tlie mainte- nance of religious discipline and in its love for learn- ing, until the introduction of commendatary or ho- norary abbots caused a degree of relaxation in its cloisters which it was found necessary to repress by efficacious measures. Cardinal Carafa, the last com- mendatary abbot, began the good work by resign- ing, with permission of Pope Alexander the Sixth, his abbacy into the hands of the Benedictine con- gregation of St. Justin of Padua. Through the vigilance of the new superiors of the monas- tery, the influence of ancient authority was re-as- serted, and studies were resumed with an ardor which made several names dear to tlie republic of letters. In the sixteenth century, the town of La Cava, which had been elevated by Benedict the JSTinth to the rank of a city in 1394, ungrateful to its faithful protectors, was led by the spirit of the age to get weary of its ancient lords and their patriarchal sway. The Order yielded to the earnest solicitations of the citizens, and the abbot made over to them the rights of temporal jurisdiction with which his predecessors had been invested. The city of La Cava was subsequently elevated to the rank of a bishopric, but the other domains of the abbey re- mained in its possession. Things continued in this state down to the days when the French conquerors, marching into N'aples, drove the bishop from his cathedral, and the monks from their convent, substi- 92 MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. tuting tlie musket for the crozier, and the roll of the drum for the m'usic of the psalms. Fortunately the rapacity of the invaders spared the precious archives of the monastery. They were not dispersed, nor sold at auction, nor stujffed igno- miniously into boxes to be carried to Paris, as it was customary to do in similar cases, but being consi- dered a section of the records of the kingdom, they were confided to persons who guarded them with praiseworthy vigilance. After the fall of Joachim Murat, the most humane of usurpers, and the return of the Bourbons, the monks regained peaceful pos- session of their ancient home, and of the treasures of learning which it contains. After this outline of the history of the convent, taken from chronicles preserved in it, we will proceed to say something of the attractions it has for a travel- ler. The church, which seems at first sight to start up, as if by enchantment, in the midst of crags and forests, is nearly overhung by the jutting brow of a rock that protects it on the northern side. It is more to be admired for its solidity, a necessary pre- caution in a mountainous neighborhood, visited at times by tremendous storms, than for the beauty of its architecture. In the vestibule is to be remarked the tomb of Queen Sybilla, wife of Roger king of Sicily. The style of the interior is a mixture of Greek and Homan. The organ-loft is an elegant piece of workmanship in the Gothic style, tastefully executed by Chevalier Petrelli. The fame of tlie MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. 93 /organ of La Cava lias spread all over Europe. It \ has eightj-four stops, and three key-boards of six I octaves each. Nine thousand francs were spent, not long ago, merely to add new instruments to it. The whole receives life from one enormous pair of bel- lows, the breath of which is made at pleasure to I imitate the sound of almost every known instru- ment. The builders of this celebrated organ were Quirico and Gaetano Gennaro of Lanciano, whose names have been made the theme of their praises by nearly all European periodicals. Tlie chapel on the right, ornamented with a pro- fusion of rare marbles and precious stones, contains the relics of St. Alpherio, and his three immediate successors in the government of the abbey. In the nave of the main altar, on the same side, there is an inscription which refers to the consecration of the church by Urban the Second, in 1092, and opposite to that a piece of marble in the wall wdiicli bears a kind of inverted mitre. This device, which is evi- dently symbolical, has given rise to the strangest con- jectures. That which supposes the said marble slab to cover the tomb of the Antipope Burdin, exiled to the monastery of La Cava to do penance for the dis- turbances he had created, is not the least curious. As this conjecture has no sure foundation in history, perhaps the symbol in question is nothing but the escutcheon of a knight buried at a remote period in that part of the church. The secluded position and fortified walls of the 94 MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. convent protected its arcliives from those lamentable inroads whicli dispersed the literary treasures of many other abbeys. There is nowhere else to be found a collection of documents so ancient, so im- portant, so well preserved, and so judiciously ar- ranged. Mabillon calls this collection integerri- mum. The admirers of the Darh Ages find in this sanctuary vast records of the utmost importance to history, and a rich collection of laws, customs, deeds, formularies, and donations, the consideration of which is indispensable to him who would form a just idea of those times, so indiscriminately misre- presented and so little understood. Before men- tioning a few of the most remarkable documents, we cannot refrain from paying a just tribute of praise to the venerable religious for the neatness and order with which the archives are kept. The well- written cajtalogue formed by their patience and industry furnishes the curious with the most satis- factory classification. In the first column each di- ploma or charter is specified ; in the same line on the ensuing columns is found its number, the year, the month, and indiction of its date, the name of the prince or king under whom it issued, the kind of writing it exhibits, the quality of its seal, and, finally, a summary of its contents. A new chrono- logical catalogue has likewise been written, in alpha- betical order, in the form of a dictionary. The archives are composed of forty thousand parchments, upwards of sixty tliousand acts of dif- MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. 95 ferent kinds, and about sixteen Imndred bulls and diplomas. The first act in this long list is dated A. D. 840. By it, Hadelchis, Prince of Benevento, grants to the Abbot of St. Sophia the possessions of a certain Lambayard forfeited by the crime of rebellion. Two other dij^lomas famous in the history of La Cava refer to some of its earliest endowments. One bears the date of 1025, and the,other of the following year. By them, Waimher the Third, Prince of Salerno, makes a donation to the abbey of the valley which Alpherio had chosen for the site of its erection, and of the surrounding woods, which had hitherto been hunting-grounds of the prince. To this donation he adds ample privileges and exemptions. The seal of Waimher is a pendent one of wax, on one side of which is a bust of the prince, with his crown and sceptre, and the inscription Waimaius Princejps^ and on the reverse the closed hand of Justice. By an- other act, a subsequent Prince Waimher, styled, nevertheless, the Wicked in the Cava chronicle, grants to the convent of St. Maximus of Salerno the property and person of a certain Lupo, with his wife, his children, and grandchildren, for lia^dng treason- ably acted as guide to the Saracens when they be- sieged Salerno in 870. It is remarkable that, not long after, having been dethroned by his rebel sub- jects, Waimher the Wicked was obliged to seek refuge in this same monastery. The document is signed 899, and, although of little importance in 96 MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. itself, it settles tlie date of important historical events. To the right, upon entering the archives, is per- ceived a celebrated diploma of Roger, King of Sicilv, dated in the first vear of his reis^n, 1130. Tlie king yields up to the monks of La Cava exten- sive lands in Sicily, and a goodly number of Chris- tian and Saracen vassals. The diploma bears a golden seal, with an impression of our Sa^dour stand- ing with a book in his hand, and on the reverse a full-length portrait of Roger dressed in a Dahnatica^ the robe of a deacon. This is intended, most pro- bablv, to show his dio:nity of les^ate a latere of the Pope in Sicily. At the end of the writ is an auto- graph signature of the IN^orman leader in Greek letters. Tliere is to be found, likewise, an act of Baldwin the Sixth, King of Jerusalem, dated anno 1181, which grants free navigation to the ships of the monastery in the waters of Syria. There is an act which speaks of the raorgengabe^ or morning-gift, which the bridegroom gave to the bride the mornino^ after their marriasre. A law of King Luitprand expressly establishes that the mor- gengdbe is in no case to exceed the fourth part of the donor's property ! A verdict of the year Si4 con- demns a certain Theodelgard to pay the sum of nine hundi-ed pence, in reparation of her injured honor, to a maiden of free condition. Upon Tlieodelgard's declaring himself unable to advance the sum, the act a MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. 97 mentions that the judge seized him hy the hair^ and handed him over to the offended party as security /for its payment. An act of 1053 gives the exact measure of the foot used by the Lombards ; and another, in which ]^icholas, Count of the Principate, grants extensive lands to the abbey per fustem^ is attached to a small wooden roll, which bears the inscription, Nicolaus Comes P. R. G. A privilege granted by Pope Alexander the Fourth deserves attention for the title which he takes, of Supreme Lord of Sicily. In a bull of Urban the Second, issued at the time he consecrated the church of the Blessed Trinity, the Pope confirms, in virtue of the same authority, and at the humble request of Roger, the privileges granted by this prince to the monastery. We may remark, in passing, that among these privileges there is the ( singular faculty by force of which the religious could I save from death any person condemned by the secu- i\ lar power. Interesting use might be made of this ^ privilege in works of fiction, the scene of which lay in the Middle Ages. The bulls published by different popes, and pre- served at La Cava, amount to ^^^ hundred and sixty. An exposition of their contents would certainly be interesting, but few of them remain unpublished. The few we inspected contained grants of jurisdic- tional power to the monastery, chiefly by Urban the Second, Paschal the Second, Alexander the Tliird, and Gregory the Fourteenth. 98 MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. The convent library is not remarkable for the number of its books, but it has a magnificent collec- tion of manuscripts and rare editions. The manu- scripts, of which there are more than sixty, from the seventh down to the fourteenth centurv, are in dif- ferent respects liighly valuable. We will mention : — 1. The book of Bede on the history of Italy from the ninth to the tenth century, the margins of which are covered with interesting notes, written from year to year by contemporary witnesses. These valuable notes have been published by Muratori, in his great collection of Italian Avriters, but unfortu- nately with not much accuracy. 2. Two manuscripts of the fourteenth century, elegantly written and beautifully illuminated. 3. We have purposely reserved for the last two of those delightful rarities which the learned travel- ler must not expect to meet with more than once at every six hundred miles, and over which he gloats with the eagerness of a worldly-minded gourmand who has a favorite dish, not seen for a considerable time, placed unexpectedly before him. One is a I Latin Bible of the seventh century, so exquisitely j written and so entirely preserved, that it cannot be I viewed without amazement, considering its anti- // quity. Its neat and regular pages present five dif- V ferent kinds of Avriting. In the capitals the uncial characters predominate, and in the text the small Roman letters, amongst which last there is an occa- sional resemblance to the ancient Lombard. This MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. 99 precious manuscript contains all the books of the Old and New Testament, but they are arranged dif- // ferently from the usual order. The Psalms, of which there is i one; more than elsewhere, present several variations, which* are found, also, in the Old Italic version, circumstances that prove the antiquity of the manuscript.'^ * "We will add to this description the remarks of Cardinal Wiseman upon this celebrated manuscript, which we copy from the first of his Tuuo Letters on some Parts of the Controversy concerning 1 John v. *7. ^ " The first document to which I beg the attention of critics is the y'l)eautiful manuscript of the Vulgate preserved in the venerable Bene- dictine abbey of La Cava, situated between Naples and Salerno. . . . When visiting that part of Italy some years ago, I turned aside to the monastery, chiefly for the purpose of inspecting it. I have, however, found still more favorable opportunity to study its text. For the inde- fatigable librarian of the Vatican, Monsiguor Mai, considered this manuscript of sufficient value to deserve an exact transcription. This was ordered by Pope Leo XII., and in the course of last summer (1834) the last sheets were deposited in the Vatican library by Father Rossi, the archivist of La Cava. It will be difficult at a distance to estimate the labor and trouble with which this transcript has been effected. It contains the Old and New Testaments, copied line for line, and word for word, with an exact imitation of the painted and ornamental parts. .... The original manuscript is written on a beautiful vellum, in large quarto; each page, like the celebrated Vatican (1209), contains three columns. There is no division between the words except by an occasional point. The character is exceedingly minute; the initial let- ters of paragraphs are somewhat larger and stand out of the lines ; the marginal notes are ^Titten so small as to require a good lens in order to decipher them. A very detailed description has, however, been published by the Abbe Razan, who has carefully collected all those characteristics which can have weight in deciding its age. I will give the result of his investigation." The Abb6 winds up, rather unex- pectedly, by concluding that the manuscript is only a thousand yeai's 100 MONASTERY OF LA CAVA. The second rare manuscript alluded to is a Lom- bard code of the tenth century. It is the most ancient collection of Lombard laws in existence, and teems with the most precious items of information. This manuscript, in 1642, furnished Camillo Pelle- grini with six treatises, which he has published in the History of the Lomha/rd Princes. Mabilion, the historian Giannone, Pratilli, and the Abbe de Kazan, and, still more recently. Carlo Troja, con- sulted it with success on several important points. When the writer of the present sketch visited La Cava, Father de Corne, then director of the archives, was engaged in the laborious task of illustrating this important remnant of the Middle Ages with expla- natory, historical, and philological notes, and was in hopes to be able to publish it in due time, with his copious and erudite commentary. "What distinguishes the library of La Cava is a collection of more than six hundred volumes of the earliest editions issued after the invention of the art of printing. We will mention in particular a book beautifully printed at Mayence in 1467; the well- known Bible .of Ilailbronn of 1476 ; the first edi- tions of Herodotus, Thucydides, and Eusebius ; and the first edition of the golden little treatise De Imi- old, agreeing with Cardinal Mai in attributing it at least to the seventh century. The marginal notes refer to the errors of the day. For example, opposite the famous text of John v. *7, the comment says, '* Audiat hoc Arius et c