YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

THE

LIFE AND TIMES

OF

SALVATOR ROSA.

VOL II.

CONTENTS

THE SECOND VOLUME.

CHAPTER VIII.
1647—1657.
Flight of Aniello Falcone to France — Salvator Rosa es
capes to Rome — State of society in that city favours his
safety — His " Babilonia" — His two singular pictures,
L'Umana Fragilitd and La Fortuna — Persecution ex
cited against him — Threatened with the Inquisition !-r—
Escapes from Rome in the train of the Prince Carlo
Giovanni de' Medici — Arrives in Florence — His splen
did reception by the Court and the Florentine Nobility — r
Engages with the Grand Duke to paint for the Palace
Pitti — Entertains the Cavaliers of the Court at his own
house — Changes his society — Is surrounded by the Lite
rati of Florence — Founds an academy of his own by the
name of the Pekcossi — Private Theatricals at the Casino
di San Marco — Messire Agli of Bologna enters the
dramatic lists with Salvator — The Simposi, or classic
suppers of Salvator Rosa — His professional labours

VI CONTENTS.
—His Battle-piece for the Grand Duke— Other his
torical pictures — His own portrait — His friendship
with Lorenzo Lippi, the author of the Malmantile
— Urges him to compose that poem — Assists Lippi m
his pictures— His portrait by Lippi— The " beautiful
Lucrezia" becomes the gouvernante of Salvator Rosa
— He retires with her from Florence to Volterra and to
the villas of his friends, the Maffei— His manner of
living during his retreat — His pictorial and poetical
compositions — His departure with Lucrezia from
Tuscany  1
CHAPTER IX.
1652—1673.
Departure of Rosa celebrated by the Tuscan poets —
He arrives in Rome, and establishes himself on the
Monte Pincio — Scenery of the Pincio at that epoch —
Salvator attacked by his professional rivals and political
enemies — Refuses to paint for the public, and executes
pictures for his own gallery — Again receives orders, and
executes several great works — Paints for the Constable
Colonna, for the King of Denmark, and for the Vene
tian Ambassador —Paints his great battle-piece as a
present from the Court of Rome to Louis XIV. — His
generosity — Birth of his son Agosto — His splendid
position in Rome — His walks on the Monte Pincio —
Fresh persecutions-*-Attack on his historical pictures-
He refuses to paint small pictures and landscapes — At
tacks on his poetical works — His unhappy state of mind
— Accepts An invitation to attend the royal nuptials of

CONTENTS. Vll
Cosmo III. at Florence, for the purpose of changing the
scene — Resides at the house of Paolo Minucci, and at
Strozzavolpe — Refuses an invitation from the Arch
duke Ferdinand — Refuses to paint during his visit to
Florence — His engravings — His Filosofo Negro— Ma
donna Anna Gaetano — The Portrait — Return of Sal
vator to Rome — He makes a journey to Loretto^-His
enthusiasm for romantic scenery — His return to Rome
— Resumes his professional and ordinary habits. . . 92

CHAPTER X.
Salvator executes three great pictures for the exhibition
of San Giovanni, on his return to Rome in the year 1663
— He exhibits his Catiline Conspiracy in the Pantheon
— Its composition, and success — His depression of
spirits and disgust with his art — Exhibition in the Pan
theon 1664 — His Saul and the Witch of Endor — Con
tinued persecutions of his enemies — Obtains the dis
tinction of painting an altar-piece at Rome, his first
and last — Its subject — Anecdotes — His projects for
the Porta Flaminia — Friendship of Carlo Rossi — His
chapel in the Chiesa di Santa Maria del Santo Monte —
Decline of Salvator's health and spirits — His letter to
Ricciardi on the subject — Undertakes a series of cari
catures at the request of his friends — Is unable to
finish them — His decline — Opinion of his physicians —
Is given over — His singular conduct — The last day of
his life — His funeral in the Chiesa di Santa Maria degli
Angioli alle Terme — His tomb and epitaph. ... 150

Vlll CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XL

Description of Salvator's person — His style of conversa
tion—His vogue — His School— Bartolommeo Torri-
gianni— Gi. Ghesolfi— Augusto Rosa— Pietro Mon-
tanini — Harry Cook — His Imitators— The late Cava-
liere Fidenza of Rome — Salvator's domestic character
and manner — His sons and descendants — His property
at the time of his death — His merits as a Painter (opi
nions of the most celebrated Masters) — as an Engraver
— as a Musical composer — His social talents — His
erudition — His poetry — State of Italian literature in
the seventeenth century — State of the press — Marini,
his followers in Italy and in England — Satirical and
burlesque poets of Italy — Satires of Salvator Rosa —
Their character and tendency — Cause of the diatribes
of contemporary critics — Their calumnies — Reputa
tion of Salvator's poetry in Italy in the present day. 210
CHAPTER XII.
Letters of Salvator Rosa to Doctor Baptista Ricciardi,
Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University of
Pisa, from the year 1652 to the year 1669. . . . 250
APPENDIX.
Contents : — Cantata — Music — Original Letters — Pic
tures of Salvator Rosa, With their present position. 311

THE

LIFE AND TIMES

SALVATOR ROSA.

CHAPTER VIII.
1647—1657.
Flight of Aniello Falcone to France — Salvator Rosa es
capes to Rome — State of society in that city favours his
safety — His " Babilonia" — His two singular pictures,
L'Umana Fragilitd and La Fortuna — Persecution ex
cited against him — Threatened with the Inquisition ! —
Escapes from Rome in the train of the Prince Carlo
Giovanni de' Medici — Arrives in Florence — His splen
did reception by the Court and the Florentine Nobility —
Engages with the Grand Duke to paint for the Palace
Pitti — Entertains the Cavaliers of the Court at his own
house — Changes his society — Is surrounded by the Lite
rati of Florence — Founds an academy of his own by the
name of the Percossi — Private Theatricals at the Casino
VOL. II. B

2 LIFE AND TIMES
di San Marco— Messhe Agli of Bologna enters the
dramatic lists with Salvator — The Simposi, or classic
suppers of Salvator Rosa— His professional labours
—His Battle-piece for the Grand Duke— Other his
torical pictures — His own portrait — His friendship
with Lorenzo Lippi, the author of the Malmantile
— Urges him to compose that poem — Assists Lippi in
his pictures— His portrait by Lippi— The " beautiful
Lucrezia'' becomes the gouvernante of Salvator Rosa
— He retires with her from Florence to Volterra and to
the villas of his friends, the Maffei — His manner of
living during his retreat — His pictorial and poetical
compositions — His departure with Lucrezia from
Tuscany. With the life of Masaniello ended all that
was laudable in the revolutionary movement, of
which he had been the leader and the chief.*
Other interests came into play ; but the cabals
* " II semble que Masaniello n'avait paru que pour
manifester son genie, sa supreme intelligence, sa capacite,
et pour operer les plus grands evenemens. En huit jours,
cet homme, simple pecheur, assujettit un grand royaume,
le delivre de la servitude, conduit a sa perfection le grand
ouvrage de l'abolition des impots," &c. — Histoire de la
Revolution de Naples.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 3
of a vile and sordid aristocracy, the intrigues of
the French government through their agents at
Rome, the headlong enterprises of the gallant
and unfortunate Due de Guise (whose object
was to erect Naples into a republic), the revolt
of the other cities and towns of the kingdom,
and the sanguinary contests of factions, fighting
not for liberty but for plunder, — all ended in
the triumph of the house of Hapsburg, whose
tyranny had incapacitated the slaves it had
debased, for recovering that liberty of which
it had so long deprived them.
Whatever had been the expectations of Sal
vator Rosa and Aniello Falcone, they ended
with the life of Masaniello.* The view which
* Salvator in his fourth Satire, some part of which was
evidently sketched on his return from Naples, apostro
phizes the spirit and virtues of Masaniello with great
force and feeling, and in a strain which recalls Petrarch's
invocation to Cola Rienzi.
" Mira 1' alto ardimento, ancor che inerme
Quante ingiustizie in un sol giorno opprime
Un vile, un scalzo, un pescatore, un verme. Mira
b 2

4 LIFE AND TIMES
that event gave them of the character of a peo
ple formed in the school of political degradation,
dissipated every hope of romantic patriotism.*
Mira in basso ngtale alma sublime,
Che per serbar della sua patria i fregi,
Le piii superbe teste adegua all' ime,
Ecco ripullular gli antichi pregi
De' Codri, e degli Ancuri e de' Trasiboli
S' oggi un vil piscator da norma ai regi."
La Guerra.
* The people, stunned by the death of Masaniello,
exhibited, in the first instance, neither grief nor resent
ment ; and when the partisans of Spain had his body
drawn through the city and thrown into a ditch, they
looked on, says an impartial historian, " avec un sang
froid et une insensibilite qui les characferisent." A few days
after, the popular feeling arose to frenzy ; they recovered
the body of their idol, and his funeral was conducted with
almost royal magnificence. The remains of the unfor
tunate Captain-general lay in state in the church del Car
mine, covered with a royal mantle ; a crown was placed
on his head, and the baton of his office and a naked
sword were deposited on his bier. With equal pomp,
and followed by 80,000 persons, the body was paraded
through the city ; and as the procession passed the Vice-

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 5
Falcone fled to France, where he lived with
honour and respect, and died full of years and
of fame. Salvator Rosa returned to Rome, —
Faint, weary, sore, embroiled, grieved, and brent,
and glowing with that " smart and inward ire,"
beyond all power, and, perhaps, all inclination
to conceal. The political state of Rome, en
grossed and agitated as its society then was by
the French and Spanish cabals, favoured his
security, and spared him those persecutions
which, as an abettor of any revolution, he might
in other times have sustained.
Too agitated to still down his bitter and per
turbed spirit to the tranquil pursuit of his art,
the stingings of his lacerated and disappointed
feelings found vent in a medium more adapted
to give a rapid and ready expression to powerful
emotion. Internal evidence refers the composi-
roy's palace, the terrified Duke sent forth eight of his
pages to join the cavalcade, and he ordered the guards to
pay military honours to the remains of the man he had so
basely assassinated.

6 LIFE AND TIMES
tion of his magnificent poem " La Babilonia," to
this period. This poem is a sort of dramatic
eclogue, in which, under a somewhat allegorical
form, the character and principles of Salvator
himself, the moral and political position of his
native country, and the disappointment of all
his hopes of its regeneration, are given, with
such truth and force, and in such deep and
honest bursts of indignation, as cannot fail to
excite a sympathy in the reader for the patriot,
exceeding even his admiration for the poet, —
powerfully as it must be called forth by the
merits of a highly poetical composition.
Tirreno, a fisherman on the shores of the
Bosphorus, is discovered just as the morning-
star ushers in the dawn, flinging all the instru
ments of his profession into the waves, and
giving utterance to an indignant vow to aban
don for ever an element and a pursuit which
have mocked him with endless disappointment.
Ergasto, a traveller, arrives at the moment of
this sacrifice, and inquires its cause. The
answer of the poet, whose own feelings of

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 7
misery come at once upon the canvass, is the
very epic of melancholy discontentment — a dis
contentment engendered by the finest sensi
bility, blasted in its hopes and its efforts for
ameliorating human sufferings, and amending
human institutions.
The artful inquiries of Ergasto draw the
piscatory misanthropist into a detailed deve-
lopement of his contempt for society, and lead
him to speak of himself and the country of his
birth. It is then that the impetuous Neapo
litan, smarting under the still-bleeding wounds
of his disappointed patriotism, sketches boldly
and bitterly a view of that country, the slave
of slaves, (" patria serva dei servi") which
seems to glory in the chain to which she
has again basely submitted. He sees only in
the land of his birth, the " hated object
of his memory" (" Vodioso oggetto della mia
memoria") the focus of all abuses in govern
ment, of all ridicules and superstitions in so
ciety ! The memory neither of Virgil nor of
Sannazaro, which he venerates, so blinds him

8 LIFE AND TIMES
with national vanity, as to render him insensible
to the vices of the degraded and despotic no
bility, to the miseries of the oppressed people,
or to the preponderating influence of knaves
and bandits, who every where hold the as
cendant. He solemnly renounces Naples for
ever ; and leaving to others " their sympathy
for Vesuvius and Posilippo," he resolves to seek
the means of existence and of fame far from
the magic circle of that false syren, to whose
sweet song he is no longer bound ; and who,
with all her witcheries, has become the object
of his abhorrence, his hatred, and his contempt!
For daring truth, deep feeling, and powerful
expression, there is not perhaps any thing in
Italian poetry comparable to this satire. Its
language is the poetry of passion ; and while
the feeble Della-Cruscans are seeking in its
noble bursts of an almost sublime indignation,
for some word that has not been " bagnato nel
Arno" or some term unauthorized by the Tre-
centisti, the superior intellects and more sen
sible spirits of all ages and nations, and above

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 9
all, of such nations as resemble the unhappy
country of Salvator, will read his Babilonia
Avith that profound and corresponding sympa
thy which forms the highest eulogium, as it is
the surest evidence, of genius and inspiration ;
an eulogium, which professional criticism, in
its cold and scanning technicalities, can " nei
ther give nor take away."
The return of Salvator to Rome was no
sooner known*, than his friends and admirers
crowded to his house, mingling, with pleasure
at his arrival, and with fresh demands upon
his talents f, a lively curiosity respecting the
events in which he had been engaged. Salvator,
whose words were pictures, related his own
adventures, and detailed the events of which
he had both been a witness and promoter, with
all that powerful and graphic eloquence for
which he was so celebrated. Nor was this
* " Ritorno a Roma, vi apri casa ; ecco giunto a grado
di gran maestro," &c. — Pascoli.
X " A Roma dove subito ebbe molti commissioni, e
fece molti lavori." — Vita di S. Rosa.

JO LIFE AND TIMES
the measure of his imprudence; for he hesitated
not to recite such passages of " La Babilonia"
and " La Guerra" as were then hastily thrown
together, and recited them with all the bitter
ness of spirit in which they were composed.
While, in the presence of princes and of
prelates*, he thus inveighed against tyranny
* Salvator is said never to have suffered the rank or
office of his auditors to interfere with the freedom of his
expression in his poetical recitations. Cardinal Sforza
Pallavicini, one of the most splendid patrons and rigid
critics of his day, was curious to hear the improvvisatore
of the Via Babbuina, and sent an invitation requesting
Salvator's company at his palace. Salvator frankly de
clared that two conditions were annexed to, his accepting
the honour of the Eminentissimo's acquaintance ; first,
that the cardinal should come to his house, as he never
recited in any other ; and next, that he should not object
to any passage, whose omission would detract from the
original character of his works, or compromise his own
sincerity. The cardinal accepted the condition. The
next day all the literary freluquets of Rome crowded to
the levee of the hypercritical Porporato, to learn his

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 1 1
and oppression, with all a poet's fire and a
patriot's zeal, two splendid pictures which
he had executed for himself, since his return,
were exhibited in the chamber where he
held his conversazioni, which added mate
rially to the impression. These were illus
trative of those bold opinions, and of that
melancholy experience, which had disturbed
the tranquillity of his life, and shadowed even
its brightest days with sadness. The first re
presented a beautiful girl, seated on a glass
globe ; her brow was crowned with flowers, the
fairest and the frailest ; her arms were filled
by a lovely infant, which she appeared to
caress ; while its twin-brother, cradled at her
feet, was occupied in blowing air-bubbles from
a tube. A child, something older, was mis-

opinion of a poet, whose style was without precedent
The cardinal declared, with, a justice which posterity has
sanctioned, that "Salvator's poetry was full of splendid
passages, but that, as a whole, it was unequal,"

12 LIFE AND TIMES
chievously employed in setting fire to a wreath
of flax twined round a spindle. Above
this group of blooming youth and happy in
fancy, with wings outspread and threatening
aspect, hovered the grim figure of Death, dic
tating the following sentence : —
" Nasci poena — vita labor — necesse mori."
The label affixed to this painted allegory,
called the picture " L'Umana Fragilita*." It
* The Abbate Baptista Ricciardi, the dear friend of
Salvator, alludes to this celebrated picture in a canzone
addressed to the painter : —
" Rosa, il nascere e pena,
II vivere e fatica,
Ed il morir necessity fatale !"
How strongly this insignificance of life and the image
of death were impressed on Salvator's mind, is evinced
through all his works. The picture itself is but a
repetition of the same idea in his Babilonia.
" lo so che l'uom della fortuna e un gioco,
E a far che mai gloria mortal mi domini
Mi figuro il sepolcro in ogni loco." " I know

OF SALVATOR ROSA, 13
expressed the labour of existence, and the
nothingness of life, a truth which none feel
so keenly as they who, like Salvator, are en
dowed with qualities which the vulgar believe
most largely to contribute to the enjoyment of
their possessor. But that fatal pre-eminence
which the lowly worship, and the envious ma
lign, gives only a finer faculty for suffering;
and while it opens the sources of petty vex
ations, and exalts the poignancy of the greater
moral afflictions, it places its gifted victim at
an immeasurable distance from the heartless
enjoyments and trifling pleasures of more or
dinary humanity.
The second of these philosophical pictures
was a painted illustration of his poetical satires.
"Fortune," as she is represented when fancy
paints her in her brightest smiles, appeared as

" I know that man is the jest of fortune ; and that
mortal glories may never seduce me, I have ever before
me the image of the tomb."

14 LIFE AND TIMES
a fair woman, pouring from a cornucopia a
torrent of riches, honours, crowns, mitres,
crosses, jewels, gems, and coins, which fell in
endless succession upon a multitude of gaping,
greedy candidates for her fickle favour. These
candidates were all either unclean beasts,
crawling reptiles, or birds of prey, filthy, san
guinary, and rapacious. In their eagerness to
snatch at the treasures which Fortune seemed
to reserve for them, they trampled under their
feet the symbols of genius, liberty, and philo
sophy, which impeded their efforts ; and books,
globes, and instruments, the pen, the pencil,
the stylus, and the compass, lay broken, sul
lied, and neglected. The ass decked himself
with orders, the swine assumed the mitre,
the fox mounted a cross ; wolves, vultures,
and tigers divided amongst them princely
coronets and royal crowns, and Fortune laugh
ed while she thus accorded as caprice or vio
lence directed her choice. This picture was
known in Salvator's gallery by the name of

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 15
"La Fortuna."* "It happened," says Bal-
dinucci, "that at this time his (Rosa's) house
was frequented by many great personages,
secular as well as ecclesiastical; who were
not only desirous to behold his beautiful pic
tures, but to enjoy his recitations of his own
poetry. While he was still employed upon his
picture of La Fortuna, the two cardinals, Ban-
dinelli and Rusponi, coming out from Sal-
* " Ma questa Fortuna," (says Baldinucci, and Pascoli
repeats the pun) — "fu la mala fortuna di Salvatore." This
picture, and another on the same subject, he sold to his
friend Carlo Rossi. It was the only one reserved by
Rossi's heir Vallore, who afterwards sold that also to
the Duke of Beaufort. Pascoli, speaking of this picture
in a style scarcely translatable, says, " II famoso della For
tuna, per cui Salvatore ebbe, allorche lo miso in mostra a
San Giovanni decollato, tanti guai, che non vi valle meno
deUa autorita di Don Mario Ghigi, fratello dell' allora
regnante pontefice per liberarselo, che fu venduto per
seicento scudi, mesi sono, al Duca di Beaufort, e lo
porta con altri molti comperati da lui in Inghilterra."
" The famous picture of La Fortuna, (for which Salvator,

16 LIFE AND TIMES
vator's house, were met by Don Mario Ghigi,
the brother of our now reigning pontiff Alex
ander VII. He, stopping his carriage to salute
their eminences, demanded of them what enter
tainment they had been enjoying that morn
ing." — "May it please your excellency." said
one of the cardinals, " we have just come from
Salvator Rosa's, where we have not only heard
good satire recited, but seen good satire
having exposed it on the feast of St. John, suffered so much
persecution — a persecution from which it required no
thing less than the authority of Don Mario Ghigi, brother
to the reigning Pope, to liberate him,) was sold some
months back for 600 scudi to the Duke of Beaufort, who
carried it, with many other pictures which he had bought,
to England." The " mesi sono," refer to somewhere about
the latter end of the seventeenth century. The Rossi
gallery may have been sold by the last inheritor, about
twenty years after the death of the original collector.
Pascoli, who writes with all the inaccuracy which be
longs to the feeble age of literature in which he lived,
places this sale of La Fortuna in the pontificate of Alex
ander VII. It occurred in that of Innocent X.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 17
painted." — " I comprehend right well," quoth
Don Mario, " that your Eminences, having been
present at Salvator Rosa's accademia, may have
heard good satire recited ; but satire painted !
in troth I am at a loss to guess your meaning."
One of the cardinals, approaching the prince's
carriage, detailed to him the subjects of
" La Fortuna," and "L'Umana Fragilita" and
spoke of their execution in a manner that
rendered the prince impatient to behold them.
The next morning Don Mario, accompanied
by his brother the future pope, was at an early
hour in the gallery of Salvator ; and he was so
charmed by the merits, and so amused by the
humour, of the pictures, that he purchased
" L'Umana Fragilita" at a high price, and talked
of " La Fortuna" in such terms in the circles
of Rome, that all who could get admission to
Salvator's gallery went, to satisfy their curi
osity or to gratify their taste. Thrown off his
guard by a vanity but too susceptible, and in
this instance flattered up to its bent, or haply,
VOL. II. c

18 LIFE AND TIMES
in his then moody state of mind, reckless of all
consequence, Salvator Rosa, in an evil hour,
permitted these two extraordinary pictures to
take their place in the Pantheon, on the return
of the feast of San Giovanni Decollato. The
Roman people, with all the shrewdness of dis
content, caught the spirit of "La Fortuna" and
applied its satire with admirable quickness.
Their praises amounted to vociferations, and
they elevated the painter to the dignity of
their champion. The powerful members of the
community, thus awakened, saw only in this
sarcastic picture a libel, and they called it, " una
solennissima pasquinata," which, under a less
mild pontificate, would have doomed the artist
to a public and ignominious death : " for,"
said they, " Nicola Franco, for a less insolent
satire upon the reigning powers, was put to
death by Pius V. of blessed memory."
But the inveterate professional rivals of Sal
vator gave the last blow to the peace and
security of the imprudent artist, by making an
artful application to personal and individual

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 19
peculiarities, of a general satire, that aimed but
at classes and institutions ; and malice instantly
supplied a key. This, was done in the true
spirit of spiteful mediocrity ; and it had all
the success which such low and dark artifices
ever obtain, when addressed to the shallow
intellects and susceptible self-love of the vulgar
great. The nose of one powerful ecclesiastic,
the eye of another, were detected in the
brutish physiognomy of the swine who were
treading pearls and flowers under their feet
— a Cardinal was recognized in an ass scat
tering with his hoof the laurel and myrtle
which lay in his path ; and in an old goat
reposing on roses, some there were who even
fancied the infallible lover of Donna Olympia,
the Sultana Queen of the Quirinal ! The cry
of atheism and sedition — of contempt of esta
blished authorities* — was thus raised under the
* Pascoli and others hint that this was not the first
occasion on which Salvator incurred the odium theologi-
cum, although he counted among his friends some of the
most celebrated churchmen of his day.
c %

20 LIFE AND TIMES
influence of private pique and long-cherished
envy : it soon found an echo in the painted walls
where the Conclave sat " in close divan," and
it was bandied about from mouth to mouth, till
it reached the ears of the Inquisitor, within the
dark recesses of his house of terrors. A cloud
was now gathering over the head of the devoted
Salvator, which, it seemed, no human power
could avert. But, ere the bolt fell, his fast
and tried friend, Don Mario Ghigi, threw him
self between his protege and the horrible fate
which awaited him, by forcing the sullen sati
rist to draw up an apology, or, rather, an ex
planation of his fatal picture.* This explana-
* This apology was in the possession of Baldinucci,
" Ed io conservo appresso di me una molto dotta apo
logia stata fatta a sua difesa, in quel tempo, pervenutami
fra molte scritture originali ed altre, rimase alia morte di
Rosa e a me state donate per ajuto di notizia per quello
che io vo ora scrivendo." " And I preserve in my pos
session a very learned apology made in his defence at
that time ; which came to me with many original and other
writings found on Salvator's death, and communicated to
me in aid of the notice I am now writing." — Baldinucci,
Vita di S. Rosa.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 21
tion, bearing the title of a "Manifesto," he
obtained permission to present to those power
ful and indignant persons in whose hands the
fate of Salvator now lay. In it, Salvator ex
plained away all that was supposed to be per
sonal in his picture ; and proved that his hogs
were not churchmen, his mules pretending
pedants, his asses Roman nobles, and his birds
and beasts of prey the reigning despots of
Italy. But, in disdaining personalities — in
courageously owning that the hidden sense of
his picture was the blindness of fortune, the
success of mediocrity, the triumphs of aggres
sion, and the neglect of genius, worth, and in
dependence, in an age at once demoralized and
ungifted, though he might have suspended the
blow of authority, he could not silence the cla
mours of the bigoted and the servile ; and these
continued so loud and so persevering, that even
the influence of the house of Ghigi (though one of
the brothers was then a cardinal) could not longer
have protected him. It was in this moment of
disquietude, says one of his anonymous biogra-

22 LIFE AND TIMES
phers, " that a sensible change took place in his
constitution, naturally full of bile." Abandon
ed by the idle and the great, whom his delight
ful talents had so long contributed to amuse,
he voluntarily excluded himself from the few
true and staunch friends who clung to him in his
adversity, at a moment when to be seen in his
society carried with it the penalty of proscription.
Shutting himself up equally from all he loved
and all he despised, he awaited with gloomy
and unyielding firmness the completion of his
destiny ; but an honourable means of escaping
from the dungeons of the Inquisition (whither
he was hourly expected to be conducted) was
afforded him by the interference of a family,
whose love of genius and protection of the arts
had survived all the sterner virtues which had
once distinguished their race.
In this moment of Salvator's deepest despon
dency, the Prince Giovanni Carlo de' Medici
offered him the protection of his brother, the
reigning Grand Duke of Tuscany, and urged
him to fly to Florence (while the means of

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 23
escape were yet in his power), where wealth
and honours awaited him as the recompense of
his shinmg and unrivalled talents.* For the
friendship of this bold and factious young pre
late, Salvator was indebted to Signor Fabrizio
* " Questo (Salvator) fu condotto dal Cardinale Gio-
van Carlo a Firenze, e vi stette per sette anni, or poeta,
or pittore, or comico applaudito sempre pel suo bello
spirito, e frequentato dai letterati, di quali ridondd allora
in qualsisia genere di dottrina il paese." " Salvator
was conducted to Florence by Card. John Charles, where
he stayed seven years, now conspicuous as a poet, now as
a painter, and now as a comedian : and always applauded
for his wit, and frequented by the literati, which in every
branch abound in that country." — Lanzi, vol. i. Scuola Flor.
This assertion of Lanzi is borne out by all the writers
on the subject of Salvator, which the author of these
pages has seen, except Passeri, who places Salvator's
visit to Florence immediately after his attack upon the
private theatricals of Bernini. But honest Passeri, who
is an epitome of the confusion and inaccuracy of the
Italian writers of the seventeenth century, troubles him
self so little with dates, that in his whole Life of Salvator
there are but two — the day of the birth, and that of the
death of his hero.

24 LIFE AND TIMES
Pier Mattei, the diplomatic agent of the Grand
Duke, who at that time occupied the Palazzo
Madama*, in Rome, one among the most distin
guished houses which Rosa had been most accus
tomed to frequent. To this palace resorted the
younger members of the Medici family on their
visits of pleasure, business, or ambition, to the
papal capital. Signor Fabrizio is described as
being " un galantuomo galante ed intelligente"
alternately the host and the guest of Salvator,
and the warmest of his admirers : and it was in
his circle that Rosa was first presented to the
Prince Giovan Carlo, who was then negotiating
for a Cardinal's hat.f The spirit and taste of
this prince, who was fitter to be a leader of
Condottieri, Hke his collateral ancestor, than a
member of the Conclave, found in the works,
* So called from its having been built by Catherine de'
Medici, or, as she was always called in Italy, Madama
Caterina !
X He was created Cardinal by Innocent X. in 1644-5.
For the character of this bustling and ambitious young
Prince-Cardinal, see Memoire de Ret:.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 25
character, and humour of Salvator much that
accorded with his own, and he soon conceived
for him one of those violent engouemens, which
the great are apt to mistake for friendship.
This was not the first invitation which Salva
tor had received to visit the Court of Florence.
The Prince Mattei de' Medici * had previously
commissioned Signor Fabrizio to induce Rosa to
go into Tuscany and execute some great pictures
for his own palace, and for the gallery of the
Serenissimo himself; but there was something in
the arrangement, which was then termed " en
tering into the service of a prince" {"portarsi
ai servigi"), from which Salvator's savage love
of liberty revolted ; and he had so frequently
and so publicly made professions of indepen
dence and philosophic simplicity of life, that it
would have been a derogation from consistency
* Mattei, or Mattias de' Medici, was governor of
Sienna. He was the patron of Livio Melius, and some
other Flemish painters, whom his protection induced to
visit Tuscany.

26 LIFE AND TIMES
to have voluntarily bound himself, like the
other great painters of the age, to the par
ticular service of any sovereign.* But, though
hitherto Free and to none accountable — preferring
Hard liberty before the easy yoke
Of servile pomp, —
yet the urgency of his present condition,
the intreaties of Fabrizio, his disgust at
Roman societyf, and the friendship of Cardinal
Giovan Carlo, prevailed over these scruples, and
induced him to accept an invitation, which
* Salvator has described these feelings in the following
lines of his Babilonia : —
Altro non chiesi mai, che viver sano,
E ne giubila il cuor, ne mi vergogno
Di guadagnarmi il pan di propria mano.
A golosi bocconi io non agogno ;
Chi va con fame a mensa, e stracco a letto
Di piume e di favor non ha bisogno !
t " Insana
Turba de' vivi perfidi, e malvagi,
Senza fe, senza amor, cruda, inumana." La Guerra.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 27
the first artists of Europe had been proud to
obtain.* Merged in the numerous travelling suite of
the prince-prelate, he left Rome, and passed its
gates either unobserved of the sbirri, which then,
as now, guarded its entrance, or by the willing
oversight of his persecutors, whose policy may
have induced them to wink at the self-banish
ment of a man whose genius made him an ob
ject of European interest, but whose presence
was an insult upon the existing order of things.
Ferdinand II., the reigning Archduke of
Tuscany, had been a disciple of Galileo, who
had added the "Stelle Medicie,y\ to the heavenly
bodies ; he was also the founder of the Ac-
cademia del Cimento, and loved the arts and
sciences not as a mere " Mecenate," but as a
* " In tali noiose circonstanze venutagli l'occasionc
di portarsi ai servigi della corta di Toscana, &c. &c." —
Vita di Rosa, tratta di vari Autori.
X The four satellites of Jupiter, discovered by Galileo
in the reign of Cosmo II.

28 LIFE AND TIMES
professor. It was to this prince, and to his
brother the Cardinal Leopold, that Florence,
in the middle of the seventeenth century, owed
much of the scientific character, by which her
elegant, but something pedantic, society was
then distinguished.*
At the moment that Salvator left Rome for
Florence, the Palazzo Pitti, the palace of the
Medici, was an open study, where the greatest
masters of the age had recently worked, or
were still working. Albano's voluptuous ima
gery was still wet upon the walls of that preci
ous cabinet, consecrated to the pious meditations
of Cardinal Giovan Carlo, who had seduced the
Anacreon of painting from the luxurious retreat
of the " Medola" in the Bolognese.
* Among the precious contributions of Ferdinand and
Leopold to the gallery of Florence are the fine heads of
Cicero, the bronze idol, supposed to be one of the finest
specimens of ancient art in the world, Titian's Venus,
most of the valuable portraits, and the works of Salvator.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 29
The sad and saintly Carlo Dolce, who had
solemnly vowed his pencil to the Virgin *, left
his cell of Saint Benedict to supply the orato
ries and chapel of the Pitti with crucified
Saviours and " Madri delle sette dolori ;" and
Pietro da Cortona, who had already established
his sect of the " Cortoneschi," had abandoned
the patronage of the Barberini (whose self-
assumed virtues he had eternized on the walls
* Carlo Dolce not only dedicated his pencil to the Vir
gin (as Tartini did his violin to St, Anthony of Padua),
but made a solemn vow never to paint any but sacred
subjects. His Madonnas, however, were all portraits of
Maria Madelina Baldinucci. Carlo Dolce was a mem
ber of the Compagnia di San Benedetto, a very rigid con
gregation. He was the victim, says Baldinucci, of a per
tinacious melancholy, which at times made it impossible
to obtain a word from him : all his answers were sighs.
On the day of his wedding, when the company were met
for the ceremony, he was no where to be found. At last
he was discovered in the church of the Annunziata, pro
strate on the steps of the great altar, before a crucifix.

30 LIFE AND TIMES
of their Roman palace), in order to enrich that
noble suite of rooms in the Pitti palace, which
are still dedicated to his name and labours.*
These were great names to compete with, in
a professional point of view ; and their splen
dour and their vogue were sufficient to intimi
date one whose harassed and worn spirit ren
dered him peculiarly susceptible to all dis
heartening impressions. But from the first
* Pietro da Cortona came to Florence in 1640, by the
special invitation of the Grand Duke Ferdinand II.
While working on the apartment called " The Mercury,''
he took some disgust to the Florentine Court, and, re
turning hastily to Rome, sent his excuses to the Grand
Duke. His paintings were finished by his pupil, Ciro
Ferri. But before he departed, he had formed a new
school at Florence, which was " acclamato da' piu autore-
voli professori," (applauded by the most highly considered
professors). In conjunction with the Padre OttoneUi,
a Jesuit, he wrote a book on painting and sculpture,
now become extremely scarce : it was published in Flo
rence, 1652.

OF SALVATOR ROSA, 31
glance which Salvator Rosa obtained of that
" A mo gentile d' ogni grazia ornato" —
from the first view of those cupolas and spires
which rose above the tombs of Michael Angelo
and Machiavel, and recalled the memory of
Dante and of Petrarch, the spirits of the fugi
tive appear to have resumed their finest tone
of brilliant exhilaration. The land of song, of
poesy, and of painting, never received within
her bosom a more devoted and enthusiastic
pilgrim. The fame of the painter, poet, musi
cian, philosopher, and dramatist, had long
preceded his arrival. The villas of his dear
friends the Maffei and the Ricciardi cheered
his eyes, and gave him the first welcome on his
route. Some of his best pictures already deco
rated the walls of the Florentine houses. His
cantatas had floated on the classic waves of the
Arno, and had " furnished forth" many a serenata
beneath the casements of the Piazza del Duomo
and Della Santa Croce ; and many an old stager

32 LIFE AND TIMES
of the little academic theatres of Tuscany longed
to break a lance with the far-famed Coviello of
the Roman Carnival.
The departure of Salvator from Rome was
an escape : his arrival in Florence was a tri
umph. The Grand Duke and the princes of his
house received him, not as an hireling, but, as
he had frankly painted himself, — as one whose
principles and genius placed him beyond the
possibility of dependence.* An annual income
was assigned to him, during his residence in
Florence, in the service of the Court f, besides
a stipulated price for each of his pictures : and
he was left perfectly unconstrained, and at
liberty to paint for whom else he pleased.
The princes, says Passeri, received him " con
amorevolezza, e nefaceva stima grande, tratten-
dolo assai onorevolmente, si nelle provvisio7ii come

* " Un galantuomo son io d'una natura
Che al par di Menedemo," &c. &c.—Satiri.
t Pascoli calls this pension " grosso annuale stipe?idio."

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 33
nella cortesia" (with affection, and esteemed
him highly, treating him with great honour,
both in pecuniary matters and in courtesy.)
The character, in fact, the manners, and the
talents of :Salvator, came out in strong relief, as
opposed to the servile deportment and more
professional acquirements of the herd of artists
of all nations, then under the protection of
the Medici. He was received at the Palazzo
Pitti not only as an artist, but as a guest ; and
the Medici, at whose board Pulci (in the time
of their Magnifico) had sung his Morgante Mag-
giore with the fervour of a rhapsodist, now re
ceived at their table another Improvvisatore *,
with equal courtesy and graciousness. The
Tuscan nobility, in imitation of the court, and
in the desire to possess Salvator's pictures,
* The Orlando Inamorato of Boiardo was sung in the
same manner at the table of the D'Este ; and Carolan,
the last of the Irish bards, rhapsodized in the halls of the
O'Connors so lately as the year 1 730.
VOL. II. D

34 LIFE AND TIMES
treated him with singular honour* The Cap-
poni, the Gerini, the Corsini, the Guadagni, and
the Falconieri, are mentioned among his parti
cular intimates and among the candidates for
his works and his society. Immediately on his
arrival at Florence, Salvator took a large and
commodious house in the Croce al Trebio, al
canto di Cini, and he furnished it handsomely
according to the taste of that day. In the
excitement of one suddenly raised from the
dark broodings of despondency, he dashed at
once into a new career, more consonant to his
epicurean temperament, than to his system of
stoical philosophy. " Salvator," says Passeri,
" who was always of the most generous and
lofty spirit, and was desirous of a great name
and reputation, resolved to place himself upon
an equal footing with the cavaliers of the court,
whom he frequently entertained with the most
sumptuous banquets, which cost him from
* " I nobili, che a gara facevano onore e cortesie, per
aver suoi quadri." — Pascoli.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 35
thirty to fifty scudi a time ; and in truth those
lords accepted of his hospitable invitations with
right good will." The fact thus simply de
tailed, may well be believed, when it is known
that the " lautissime cene, ricchi pranzi," (sump
tuous suppers and rich dinners) consisted of
the rarest and most exquisite viands ; and that
one, who from habit lived sparingly, and whose
favourite dish was fresh figs*, was yet well
aware that his brilliant conversation was best
relished when accompanied by beccaficos and
ortolans, his bon-mots more greedily swallowed
when washed down with the juice of the Tuscan
grape, or the wines of Burgundy. But while the
ennobled descendants of the merchant-citizens of
republican Florence were feasted by the hospi
tality, and amused by the wit, of their plebeian
host, they never for a moment lost sight of the
immeasurable distance existing between those
* Baldinucci says, that if a basket of this fruit arrived
from the country, when Salvator was engaged to some
luxurious dinner, he was sure to send his excuse and sit
down to his fresh figs at home. d ;>

30 LIFE AND TIMES
whom fortune had distinguished, and the man
who boasted only of the aristocracy of nature :
and the Eccellentissimi, Eminentissimi, and Se-
renissimi who deigned to partake of feasts pro
vided by the honest earnings of genius and in
dustry, smiled in derision at the vanity of the
low-born artist who sought to surround himself
with scarlet hats and purple stockings, mitres,
coronets, ribbons, and stars, and all the mas
querading panoply, which policy has adopted, to
make a false and ludicrous distinction between
man and man. Unluckily for the titled guests
of Rosa, they smiled not unobserved! Not a
glance of the eye, not a scornful curvature of
the lip, not a movement of the elevated brow,
escaped the never-erring perceptions of genius,
sharpened in all its faculties by a suspicious and
wounded self-love.
Salvator was promptly struck with a sense of
his weakness ; and his discovery was confirmed
by an incident, extremely characteristic of his
position as a low-born man of talent coming in
contact with the heartlessness and bad taste so

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 37
often discoverable in the spoiled children of
fortune, whose society his vanity had urged
him to cultivate. Proceeding to the Corso in
his carriage, after one of his own sumptuous
dinners, he perceived that some of those noble
guests who had the most eagerly accepted his
invitation, and on that very day had partaken
of his hospitality, turned away to avoid his
salutation, in a spot where so many of their own
caste were present to witness the " Good den,
Sir Richard," of the familiar artist. This con
viction sunk so deeply into his irritable mind,
that many years afterwards, when residing in
Rome, he frequently related the anecdote to
Passeri with unabated bitterness of spirit *.
* " E quando ritornd in Roma, mi disse piu volte,
che quei Cavalieri ai quali faceva tante cortesie, nel me-
desimo giorno dopo il desinare, incontrandolo per lo
passeggio in carozze, e vedendolo, ni meno gli guardavono
adosso." — " And when he returned to Rome, he often told
me, that those nobles to whom he had shewn so much hos
pitality, meeting him in their carriages even on the very
day on which he had feasted them, refused to look upon
and salute him." — Passeri.

38 LIFE AND TIMES
Salvator's knowledge of the degraded nobility
of Rome and Naples had long led him to re
mark,
" How low, how little are the great, how indigent the
proud!"
but he probably expected something better from
the descendants of the free citizens of Florence.
In this, however, he was disappointed; and
his opinions of this class live in his works for
generations yet unborn, while the insipid mys
tifications of the wits of the Tuscan red-book
died where they fell *. From the moment that
Rosa was aware of his folly, he shut his door
against all who had nothing but mere rank or
courtly fashion to recommend them. Far,
however, from abandoning society, he only se
lected it. His extravagant hospitality was not
reformed ; but it was directed to better pur
poses ; and the Poloniuses of the palace Pitti,

* Salvator observes in his letters, " Their fire is of
straw, mine is asbestos." — The conceit is not quite cor
rect, but the expression is forcible.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 39
the little courtiers of a little court— the worst of
all society, — gave place to whatever professional
talent, wit, worth, or genius, Florence could at
that time boast of possessing within her walls.
The cold etiquette and courtly ceremony of his
guests of many quarterings and few ideas was ba
nished from his table, and was succeeded by free
dom, intellectual vivacity, and that playful ease,
which is only to be enjoyed by superior minds,
in the gracious consciousness of a full and per
fect equality. From that moment, as Baldinucci
observes, the house of Salvator became " an
academy of wits, the habitation of hilarity, and
the mart of gaiety *."
In addition to the principal artists and lite
rati of Tuscany, whatever was the most distin
guished of the higher ranks for taste and talent,
was to be seen in Salvator's weekly assemblies.
The accomplished Count Maffei, the poetical
* " Un accademia delle belle facultade, l'abitazione
della giocondita, ed il mercato della allegrezza."

40 LIFE AND TIMES
Duke di Salviati, Cardinal Baldinelli, all visit
ants in the Via Babbuina at Rome, were likewise
congregated in the " Croce del Trebio" at Flo
rence. To the possessors of these historical
names were added, many now well known to
science and to art: Torricelli, the celebrated in
ventor of the barometer, the learned Andrea Ca-
valcante, Francesco Rovai, one of the few amus
ing rhimers among the Seicentisti, Valerio Chi-
mentelli, professor of moral philosophy at Pisa,
his successor Battista Ricciardi, then only
known as an agreeable poet, the learned Dottore
Berni, the facetious Paole Vendremini, secre
tary of state to the Venetian republic, (then on
a diplomatic mission at the court of Tuscany,)
Filippo Apollone Aretino, a fashionable drama
tist, Salvetti, a literato of eminence and poet
of society, Minucci, afterwards the editor of
the " Malmantile," and Lorenzo Lippi, the
author of that poem, (one of the most playful
and burlesque productions of the age,) who, in
all probability, would not have written it, had

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 41
he never known Salvator Rosa. The brightest
triumphs of genius are not unfrequently the
results of accident ; and it is a strange coinci
dence, that Milton also received the first ideas
of his Paradise Lost, in those very circles in
which Salvator now presided *.
To the distinguished persons mentioned by
name as the constant guests of Salvator Rosa,
many of a nearly equal merit, though of less
note, were from time to time added, until their
* The first hint of the Paradise Lost is said to have
been taken from an Italian tragedy. Many of the per
sons who formed Salvator's society must have been
members of those academies, which paid such respect
to Milton on his visit to Florence some years before.
" For besides the curiosities and other beauties of the
place (Florence), he (Milton) took great delight in the
company and conversation there, and frequented their
academies, as they are called, the meetings of the most
polite and ingenious persons, which they have in this,
as well as in the other principal cities of Italy, for the
exercise and improvement of wit and learning amongst
them." — Life of Milton.

42 LIFE AND TIMES
number, talent, and learning, and the nature
of their well-sustained conversations, induced
him to propose the formation of an academy,
which, by the name of the " Percossi;'' soon
became one of the most celebrated and brilliant
of Italy. It was not, however, conversation
alone that gave its rapid vogue to the Percossi,
but circumstances always in accordance with
the taste of every nation — good cheer and plea
surable amusement, private theatricals, followed
by the most exquisite suppers. The desire ex
pressed to see Salvator in some of his dramatic
characters, together with the notoriety of the
histrionic talents of other members of the so
ciety, induced the new-formed academy to give
a series of dramatic representations during some
months in every year ; and the idea was so
much relished by the elegantes of Florence, that
Cardinal Leopold de' Medici lent his beautiful
Casino di San Marco for a theatre.*

* It may be observed, en passant, that there is
scarcely an heroic subject presented by history, which

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 43
The pieces performed on this occasion (and
they have been cited as being " bellissime e biz-
zarissime commedie al improvviso") were com
posed and acted exclusively by the academi
cians, with one exception in favour of a cer
tain Messer Francesco Maria Agli, a Bolog
nese merchant, who in the character of " //
Dottore" the representative of the pedantry
of the Bolognese university, was celebrated
as the high priest " and darling without end"
of Thalia. It had long been the ambition of
Agli to enter the lists with Salvator ; and
though at this time a sexagenary, the old mer-
had not been seized upon by the Italians of the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries, before they were treated by the
tragedians of France. The " Fedra" of Bosca, the
"Medea" of Galladea, the " Mariamne " of Dolce, the
'* Semiramide" ofManfredi, the " Aristodemo " of Dot-
tori, the "Cleopatra" of Spinello, the "C3dipo" of
Anguillara, and a hundred others written before the
middle of the seventeenth century, were anticipations of
Corneille, Voltaire, Monti, &c. &c. The "MEROPE!'of
Scipione Maffei preceded that of Voltaire, of which it
must be considered the parent.

44 LIFE AND TIMES
chant doffed the cap and slippers, of his count
ing-house in the Piazza del Gigante, ordered
oxen to his Cariola, and abandoning the ledger
for the sock, crossed the Apennines, to offer
his services to the Percossi, by whom he was
most graciously received. Salvator thus met
with one, who, in technical language, could
" act up to him," and when they appeared
together on the boards of San Marco, — the one
as the Doctor, ponderous, prosing and pedan
tic, — the other as the Neapolitan Valet de place,
sharp, roguish, and rapid, — their farcical qui
pro quos, arising out of the different dialects,
which both spoke to perfection, had such an
effect, that the dialogue was frequently inter
rupted by the reiterated shouts of laughter,
which burst from the audience.*
* " Chele rise che alzavansi fra gli spettatori per lungo
spazio interompavano il loro dialogo."
" For my part," says Baldinucci, " I was always afraid
that these violent convulsions of laughter, would some
time or other have had a fatal termination."

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 45
From this period, to the end of his life, the
histrionic merchant of Bologna came annually
to Florence, for the pleasure of playing the
Doctor Graziano to Salvator's Pascariello.*
But the comic performances of San Marco
were not exclusively al improvviso, being oc
casionally relieved by others of more regular
composition, styled " al soggetto nobile e
grave" written by Carlo Dati, the friend of
Milton, by Ricciardi and other writers, whose
clerical habits forbade their contributing to the
lighter amusements of the theatre. Viviani, a
mathematician of great note in his day, took
the low comedy part of Pasquella ; Count
Luigi Ridolfi personated the thick-witted
clown Schitirzi ; and the " Nobil-uomo" Fran
cesco Cordino, exchanged his doublet and hose
for a cap and farthingale, and figured as the
intriguing chambermaid Colombina. As no
* At this period, Moliere was performing in his own
Etourdi and Les Precieuses at Beziers, before the little
Court of the Prince de Conti.

46 LIFE AND TIMES
females were at this time permitted to appear
on the stage, the other heroines were com
mitted to some young and handsome abbes,
who filled up the corps dramatique of the
Percossi. To give the last finish to these
elegant theatricals, the Prince-prelate, Giovan
Carlo*, presided indirectly over them ; and
the Count Giulio Altoviti, the representative
of one of the most illustrious families of Tus
cany, undertook the post of Direttore, or
acting manager ; though he was often on the
point of throwing up his office, from his in
ability to withstand the importunities of the
Florentine gentry for admissions, beyond all
proportion to the dimensions of his theatre.
The suppers which followed these represen
tations, and which, according to the pedantry
of the times, bore the name of " Simposi,"
were always given at the house of Salvator;
and though the academicians professed to con-

* In 1659, this Cardinal built a regular theatre at
Florence, for the representation of operas.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 47
tribute some part of the expense, yet, in the
end, the whole weight fell upon the munificent
artist, who is described as having displayed
great taste in the getting-up of these singular
festivities. The apartments opened into gar
dens, and were lined with trees and odoriferous
plants. The very floors were concealed by ver
dant mosses and natural flowers ; and the whole
was so picturesquely arranged, that it appeared
a natural, and not an artificial bower, shaded
by the freshest and most delicious foliage.
The table partook of the singularity of one
who, says a French critic on these occasions,
"mettoit de I 'esprit par tout;" and the choice
viands, by appearing in masquerade, while
they did justice to the cook, displayed much
of the concetti of the age and country, from
which even this wild son of the Apennines
was not wholly exempt.*
* " A most whimsical thing it was to behold the ar
rangement of the table on the occasion of these Simposi.
Some nights all the dishes were masked in pastry, even to

48 LIFE AND TIMES
On these occasions, Salvator occasionally
recited some parts of his Satires, and sang
those spirited compositions to his lute in his
native Neapolitan*, which as provincial bal
lads, in the absence of all pretension, met with
more indulgence from his Delia Cruscan au
ditory, than was given to the anti-Tuscanisms
of his graver poems.
To supply the extravagant claims which Sal
vator's liberal spirit was daily making on his
purse, required, in the midst of all his intel
lectual and social enjoyments, great industry
and inordinate gains. But his love of glory
was paramount to every passion ; and if his
nights were given to recreation and society, his
days were passed in labour and solitude. Shut
the sallad ; on others, all were roasts — on others, soups,
&c. ; and much pretty and curious invention was display
ed in thus giving an endless variety to the appearances
and tastes of the same meats." — Life, &c.
* " Spiritose canzoni, che cantava in lingua Napolitana
graziosamente sul liuto." — Pascoli.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 49
up in his " fast closed chambers," (" ben chiuse
stanze" as Baldinucci calls his work-rooms,) to
which not even his own pupils were admitted,
he worked with his usual rapidity, and with
more than ordinary success. The first picture
which he executed after his arrival in Florence,
was his far-famed Battle-piece, for the Grand
Duke Ferdinand, in which, at his highness's
request, he introduced his own portrait in one
of the corners. All Tuscany offered the homage
of unqualified admiration before this splendid
composition, which was followed by several
landscapes, sea-ports, marine views, (mostly
taken from the mountain coast scenery of the
Abruzzi,) all bespoken, and liberally paid for
by the Grand Duke, or his brothers Leopold
and Giovan Carlo.
He felt himself, however, so little bound to
work exclusively for these princes, that he oc
casionally permitted their orders to wait upon
the commissions given by his own friends ;
and he painted successively, his " Heraclitus
VOL. II. E

50 LIFE AND TIMES
and Democritus" for Francesco Cordone*; four
landscapes for the Marchese Capponif , " which,"
says Baldinucci, " were perfectly beautiful (di
tutte bellezze)"', and for the Marchese Gerini,
his " Sage flinging treasures into the Ocean,"
and a " Fortune" covering her eyes with one
hand, while with the other she scatters gold at
random. His well-known piece called "Ancient
Ruins," was painted for the Casa Grisoli ; and
what is still called " Salvator's grand landscape "
(in which, says Baldinucci, he surpassed him
self,) for the Marchese Guadagni. The price
given for this last magnificent picture is always
quoted as exorbitant; and Baldinucci states,
that all the pictures which he sold at Florence
were purchased at the very highest prices. It
was, however, remarked that of those pictures
* These pictures are known by the name of "The
Laughing and Crying Philosophers." See Catalogue,
vol. 2.
t Still preserved in the Capponi palace at Florence.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 51
which were executed while he resided in Tus
cany, his best were such as he painted as pre
sents for his most favoured friends. One of the
most precious of these was his own portrait,
done for a Florentine citizen, Messer Signorelli.
This portrait represents him in his character of
Pascariello ; and it is remarkable for the hands
being covered by what Baldinucci calls " guanti
stracciati." On the demise of Signorelli, it
passed into the collection of Cardinal Leopold
de' Medici.
Besides these various works, Salvator con
trived from time to time to execute some great
pictures for himself, ( " per propria studio")
which it was his pride and • his vengeance to
send to Rome, on the annual exhibition in the
Pantheon, where the public beheld with increa
sing admiration the works of a man whose
person was proscribed, but whose genius was
beyond the reach of bans and bulls* " Among

* Salvator Rosa secretly deplored his banishment ; and
e 2

52 LIFE AND TIMES
these, the most remarkable was a Bacchana
lian piece, full of poetical imagery. It repre
sented a dark forest gloomed by the interweav
ing of trees, through which a vista appeared,
whose termination was lost in the distance ;
while, in an opening, a group of male and
his impatience at being separated from Carlo Rossi, and
some other of his friends was so great, that he narrowly
escaped losing his liberty to obtain an interview with them.
About three years after his arrival in Florence, he took
post-horses, and at midnight set off for Rome. Having
reached the gardens of the " Vigna Navicella," and
bribed the custode to lend them for a few hours, and
otherwise to assist him, he despatched a circular billet to
eighteen of his friends, supplicating them to give him a
rendezvous at the Navicella. Each believed that Salvator
had fallen into some new difficulty which had obliged
him to fly from Florence, and all attended his summons.
He received them at the head of a well-furnished table,
embraced them with tenderness, feasted them sumptu
ously, and then mounting his horse, returned to Florence
before his Roman persecutors, or Tuscan friends, were
aware of his adventure.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 53
female figures with children, all lightly habited
with draperies floating in the air, frolicked
round a statue of Bacchus. Others lay on the
earth, drinking from vases and goblets ; and
some rolled in drunkenness, in a variety of the
most appropriate attitudes. The composition
was admirable, the scenery finely adapted to
the grouping, and the shadows of the trees, by
the exercise of a rare skill, were made to
harmonize with the general tone of colouring :
the whole picture was most singular. Others
which he sent, were also in good style. They
consisted of landscapes, battle-pieces, marine
views, and historical subjects ; all original,
masterly, and spirited in the most eminent
degree." *
But, while thus laboriously devoted to bu
siness and to pleasure, insatiate in the pursuit
of fame, and seeking to obtain it alike from
contemporaries and from posterity by the cul-
* Passeri, p. 425.

54 LIFE AND TIMES
tivation of the most opposite talents ; his sus
ceptible spirits too frequently sunk under the
exertions of his overworked mind ; and fits of
moody melancholy, the natural concomitants
of the disease called genius, shadowed the set
tled sunshine of this portion of his life, and
left him no solace but such as he could find in
solitude or in friendship. Long and lonely
walks amidst the forest gloom of Volterra, or
pensive saunterings in the more lovely scenery
of the Val d' Amo, with the friend of his
most intimate selection, were the sure remedies
to which he apphed, when his temperament
led him to view life in its own true colours, or
when, the fervour of some transient excitement
having died away, he felt a full conviction of
the truth of his painted adage " Nasci pena,
&c. &c. &c." succeed to every brighter dream
and more flattering illusion.
The friend par excellence, chosen to ac
company him in these wanderings, was Lorenzo

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 55
Lippi,* a man who seems to have been cast
in the same mould with himself, though formed
perhaps of an inferior clay. A painter by pro
fession, a poet by taste, a philosopher upon
system, and an epicurean from temperament :
he yet was all these in a lower degree than Sal
vator ; and this very inequahty rendered their
accordance but the more perfect: for Lippi
looked up to Rosa ; and Rosa liked to be re
spected, even by those by whom he was beloved.
There was also another point of similitude

* Lorenzo Lippi is described as having been " Spiri-
toso nei motti, bizarro nelle resoluzioni, faceto e vivace
nel conversare, e poet anel suo genere di rara capacita."
" Brilliant in wit, capricious in act, facetious and lively
in conversation, and a poet, in his own peculiar style,
of great ability. (Vita, &c.) According to Baldinucci, he
was a man of the best morals, affectionate and charitable.
I cannot find that Salvator had a single friend, that was
not as eminent for moral worth, as for talent and acquire
ments.

56 LIFE AND TIMES
between these eminent geniuses : they were
both alive
" To every sense of ridicule in things;"
and both indulged in the dangerous propensity
with a most hazardous indiscretion ; too happy
when they could laugh at a world, over which
they were more frequently compelled to weep.
It occasionally happened that, when Salva
tor, after an hard day's work, felt both his
strength and spirits flag, he hastened to the
studio of Lippi, and pulling him forcibly from
the scaffold, on which he was then painting
his great picture of the " Triumph of David,"*
carried him off to walk, — when saunterings
* In this picture, painted for the Count Agnolo Galli,
the portraits of the Count, of Madelina his wife, and
their seventeen beautiful children, are preserved. David,
holding the head of Goliath, represented Lorenzo dc'
Galli, a singularly handsome youth ; and the mother
and her daughters appeared as " the fairest among the
daughters of the children of Israel." Lippi, like Salvator,
was an open contemner of schools and manners. He
always studied from nature.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 57
which began at the Ave Maria, were continued
till the midnight-bell of many a convent tolled
its monks to their nocturnal devotions.*
Sometimes the wanderers directed their steps
hke Galileo, — " the Tuscan Artist" — to the top
of Fiesole ; but not solely to view " the moon's
broad circumference," or
" Descry new lands,
" Rivers, and mountains in her spotty globe ;"
but to gaze on the scenery of the Decameron,
the Mugnone, the Villa di Sciffanoja, and
the other features of a scene consecrated to
the Novellatrici of Boccace, an author who was
* Lippi might have rivalled any modern English pe
destrian. " One morning at dinner, he suddenly took
it into his head to go to Prato, a town ten miles distant
from Florence ; so, starting from table, he arrived at
Prato, saluted some of his friends, and returned home to
finish his meal." Baldinucci says, that he died the
victim of his " indefatigable walking :" having made one
of his usual tours in very hot weather, he was attacked
with pleurisy, and perished in his fifty-eighth year,
about 1652.

58 LIFE AND TIMES
of their own school, and whom posterity classes
among the earhest founders of the sect of
Romanticism.* Sometimes the ramblers took the road to
Pisa, which hes under the Poggio di San
Romolo, and visited the pretty villa of their
mutual friend Alfonso Parigi, a kinsman of
Lippi. Seated in the marble portico of this
villa (La Mazzetta), the eyes of the two paint
ers fell naturally upon the Castle of Malman-
tile, an object whose picturesque beauty was
singularly calculated to attract their attention.f
* Baldinucci relates, that these two humorous friends
standing on a little bridge over the Arno, used to amuse
themselves with the ignorance of the country people, by
passing off their own figures, reflected in the water, as
the Antipodes.
t Malmantile stood about ten miles from Florence, on
the road to Pisa, between La Lastra and Montelupo.
The word signifies, in the Tuscan dialect, an old table
cloth or tapestry; and "Andar al Malmantile" is a
proverb tantamount to " dining with Duke Humphrey."

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 59
Malmantile crowned the heights of a neigh
bouring hill, at about a mile from Parigi's villa;
and Lippi had not only made this ruin the goal
of his morning walk, on his visits to his kins
man, but likewise the subject of some doggrel
rhimes, which he was in the habit of stringing
together with great facility. In these idle and
unstudied lines Salvator Rosa saw so much
wit and humour, that he prevailed on Lippi to
give the subject a more serious consideration,
and to render them the medium of an attack
upon those self-styled " Rettorici Atticisti" who
swarmed forth from the Delia Cruscan school,
to the total destruction of all good taste and
manly literature.*
These persecutors of Tasso, these " quindi
* " Grandissimi furono gli stimoli che egli ebbe a
eio fare da Salvator Rosa." — Baldinucci.
He adds, that they lived in " intrinseca domestichezza"
in great intimacy, and that it was in Salvator's house that
Lippi first read his poem.

60 LIFE AND TIMES
e quinci"* (whilomes and whereof s) had al
ready been attacked with equal humour and
severity by Salvator in his " Poesia" and he
now not only strenuously encouraged his friend
to execute his poem upon a grand scale, but
furnished almost all the episodes, which were
taken from the popular tales of the Neapoli
tan people.
The high burlesque poem of " // Malman
tile raquistato" is executed in strict imitation
of the sublime Gerusalemme of Tasso, and its
mock-heroic march is admirably contrasted
with the low and familiar imagery in which it
abounds, and which is given in the obsolete
and vulgar idioms, and popular proverbs of
Tuscany f; a taste which was then first affected
* " Peggio non ho che quel sentir parlare
Con tanti quinci e quindi." — Anton. Abbati.
t Much of the effect of this poem is now lost ; but
Baldinucci says, that the adaptation of the proverbs to its
conceits was so humorous, that it could not be read with
out laughter.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. G\
by the purists of Florence, the precursors of
the " Trecentisti" of the present day. To add
to the humour of this whimsical composition,
the puerile tales of the nursery, and les petits
jeux afterwards so much in fashion in France,
were introduced in a variety of digressions and
allusions* ; and the whole was a satire upon the
flimsy literature which in the seventeenth
century succeeded to the prose of Machiavel,
and the poetry of Ariosto.
The " Malmantile raquistato" di Perlone
Zipole (the anagram of Lorenzo Lippi) was at
last completed ; and long before its pubhcation,
* The simple Minucci, the friend of Rosa, and the
commentator on Lippi, enters in his insipid tittle-tattle
(" insipide chiaccherie," as modern writers term his notes)
into a grave discussion on these nursery tales, and gives
a whole chapter to " The little old man 's alive," and to
the well-known game,
Becci cal) a, calla, calla,
Quanti corni ha la cavalla 1 —
or " Buck, buck, how many horns do I hold up ?" a game
mentioned, be it recorded en passant, in Petronius Arbiter.

62 LIFE AND TIMES
the MS. was so eagerly sought after, and so
rapturously applauded, that its success was
unprecedented. It became even more the
fashion in France and in England, than in
Italy, where its satire was too severely felt not
to raise against its author an host of critics
and of enemies*. When Lorenzo Panteatiche
was presented to Louis XIV., his pompous
majesty rubbed up his Italian, learnt at the feet
of the Mancini, to say something civil of il
Malmantile to the reverend traveller, and ad
dressed him with "Signore Abate, io sto legendo
il vostro grazioso Malmantile." And the me
lancholy Charles I. of England received the
same personage with the MS. of the Malman
tile lying open on his table, and his finger point
ing to its title-ip&ge. The allusions, however,
of this once fashionable poem are too local to
* Lippi's sole successful rivals were, Francesco Brac-
ciolino, author of " Lo Scherno degli Dei," and Ales-
sandro Tassoni, author of the well-known Secchia Rapita.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 63
perpetuate its interest; and the antique Tus-
canisms, in which it abounds, are now so
wholly gone by, that it is not read with much
amusement and facility even in Italy, or by the
Tuscans themselves.
The aid which Lippi received from the
higher genius of Salvator was not confined to
his literary pursuits. His " Flight into Egypt"
owes to the good-natured assistance of Rosa's
pencil, that it was ever finished to contribute
to the fame of its author. It happened that
Rosa, in one of those fits of idleness to which
even his strenuous spirit was occasionally hable,
flung down his pencil, and sallied forth to com
municate the infection of his far niente to
his friend Lippi. On entering his studio,
however, he found him labouring with great
impetuosity on the back-ground of this picture ;
but in such sullen vehemence, or in such evident
ill-humour, that Salvator demanded, " Che fai,
amico?" — " What am I about ?" said Lippi ; " I
am going mad with vexation. Here is one of

64 LIFE AND TIMES
my best pictures ruined; I am under a spell,
and cannot even draw the branch of a tree, nor
a tuft of herbage."
" Signore Dio!" exclaimed Rosa, twisting the
palette off his friend's thumb, " what colours are
here ?" and scraping them off, and gently push
ing away Lippi, he took his place, murmuring,
" Let me see ! who knows but I may help you
out of the scrape*."
* Rosa's confidence in his powers was as frankly con
fessed as it was justified by success. Happening one day
to be found by a friend in Florence in the act of modu
lating on a very indifferent old harpsichord, he was
asked, how he could keep such an instrument in his
house ? " Why," said his friend, " it is not worth a
scudo." — " I will lay you what you please," said Sal
vator, " that it shall be worth a thousand before you
see it again." A bet was made, and Rosa immediately
painted a landscape with figures on the lid, which not
only was sold for a thousand sctidi, but was esteemed a
" capo d'opera." On one end of the harpsichord he also
painted a skull and music books. Both these pictures
were exhibited this year, 1 823, at the British Institution.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 65
Half in jest, and half in earnest, he began
to touch and retouch, and change, till night
fall found him at the easel finishing one of the
best back-ground landscapes he ever painted.
All Florence came the next day to look at this
chef-d'ceuvre, and the first artists of the age
took it as a study.
A few days afterwards, Salvator calling upon
Lippi, found him preparing a canvass, while
Malatesti read aloud to him and Ludovico
Seranai the astronomer, the MS. of his poem of
the Sphynx. Salvator, with a noiseless step,
took his seat in an old gothic window, and
placing himself in a listening attitude, with a
bright light falling through stained glass upon
his fine head, produced a splendid study, of
which Lippi, without a word of his intention,
availed himself; and he executed, with incredible
rapidity, the finest picture of Salvator that was
ever painted. Several copies of it were taken
with Lippi's permission, and Ludovico Seranai
purchased the original at a considerable price,
VOL. II. F

QQ LIFE AND TIMES
" In this picture Salvator is dressed in a cloth
habit, with richly slashed sleeves, turnovers,
and a collar. It is only a head and bust, and
the eyes are looking towards the spectator*."
While the character of Salvator stood as
high in pubhc opinion for its unblemished pro
bity, as it was singular in such times for its
stern independence — while his associates were
chosen among the most refined, and his friends
among the most intelligent classes of society,
there was yet one vulnerable point about him,
which the truth of biographical story will not
permit to be glossed over, but which the sex of
the biographer renders it perilous to touch on.
The master-frailty of Salvator's life was that,
which the world as readily pardons in one sex,
as it condemns in the other ; — a venial sin in all
* Baldinucci says of it, " era tanto bello e somigliante,
che poi ne furono fatti assai copie, una delle quale si
conservo appresso da me per memoria del Rosa." " It
was so beautiful and so like, that many copies of it were
afterwards made, one of which I keep in my possession
in memory of Salvator."

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 67
countries whose political and religious institu
tions are unfavourable to the virtues essential
to domestic happiness. To enter into details of
the amatory adventures of one, whose enter
prising spirit in love and in pohtics, in the
tower of Masaniello and the saloons of Rome
and Florence, was equally audacious, would, to
say the least, be an ill-judged accuracy. That
the gallantry of Salvator furnished his enemies
with the ground-work of those calumnies,
which stamped on him the reputation of a
libertine, cannot be denied. But if, in
" His morn and liquid dew of youth,"
he had " fatto come tanti altri" " sinned like so
many others," it is at least some extenuation
of his offence, that he never lent the spell of
his genius to the errors of his example. With
the exception of a few short erotic poems, which
have all the purity, if not all the poetry, of
Petrarch, his works make no allusion to his
loves ; and neither record the amatory triumphs
of his youth, nor the feeble contrition of his
decline. He evidently indeed scorned the com-

68 LIFE AND TIMES
mon trick of drawing the world's attention to
his productions, by rendering them subservient
to its grosser appetites, and to his own ego
tism ; and, blushing to find that fame which
so many have made their proudest boast, he
seems to have been one who
" Comble de faveurs,
Sache les gouter  et les taire."
That epoch in the life of man was now,
however, rapidly arriving, when the senses,
less vagrant and prompt to kindle than in
youth, become concentrated ; and when the
passions, sobered to a capacity for fixed and
settled affection, call for some suitable object
to receive their permanent and exclusive devo
tion. Salvator had already begun to feel this
truth ; and he ought to have married. But,
when urged to enter into matrimonial engage
ments, he pleaded reasons for rejecting the
counsels of his friends, which, though by a
strange perversion of the moral sense, founded
in a rigid feehng of dehcacy and sentimental

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 69
fastidiousness, led him in the end to act in a
manner but httle consonant with the dictates
of either. The demoralized state of Italian
society, at that particular period, made over
the virtue of chastity exclusively to religious
recluses and monastic devotees ; and while
one sex professed the most open libertinism,
the other was divided into nuns and concu
bines. Salvator, with some of that Spanish
jealousy then inherent in the Neapohtans of
all classes, was averse from forming any tie
which might hnk him for hfe to the possible
frailty of the " thing he loved ;" and in his sore
susceptibility of that ridicule which he had
himself lavished on husbands, by necessity
'• very, very, very kind, indeed," he forbore
to enroll himself in their order. In his times,
as in the present, and in those countries in which
cehbacy is consecrated by the rehgion of the
land, human frailty has found its account in
winking at a custom, whose observance was in
full force in Italy during the seventeenth cen-

70 LIFE AND TIMES
tury. A fair female domestic, with the title of
governante, was then an universal appendage
in the estabhshment of the unmarried, whether
clerical or laic : and even the Vatican was not
exempt from such an arrangement.
While Innocent X. consigned the keys of
St. Peter to the keeping of Donna Olympia, it
gave but httle offence to pubhc morals that
Salvator consigned his to the fair hands of a
beautiful Florentine girl, whom this connexion
has rendered celebrated by the name of La
Signora Lucrezia !
The introduction of Salvator to " La Donna
di bello aspetto" was connected with his art.
Lucrezia, who, though poor, was a person of
some education and respectability, had been
induced to sit as the original of some of Sal
vator's nymphs, saints, and Pythonesses, and
to become bis model, without any disparage
ment to her modesty or discretion : for Sal
vator had fallen, with a puritanical severity,
upon the prurient representations even of the

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 71
first masters (and, above ah, on his own favou
rite's, Albano) ; and this circumstance rendered
him infinitely cautious to make his own works
examples of that decency he so strenuously
preached to others. " In respect to this branch
of his art," says Passeri, " in which a truly
Christian painter should be most careful, he
was a most rigorous observer*; avoiding all
indelicacy, or whatever might inspire it, and
attending to this with his usual modesty, even
in his picture which represents the allurements
of Phryne and the continence of Xenocrates :
for, in defiance of the necessities of the story,
he has completely veiled her, and scarcely left
more than a part of the left arm naked f."
From simply considering the young Lucre
zia as a fine model, with the same coldness
with which Pygmahon first watched the pro-
* " Rigorosissimo custode" are Passeri's words.
t The picture here alluded to is now in the collec
tion of the Earl of Besborough.

72 LIFE AND TIMES
gress of his own statue, Salvator, hke the
Greek sculptor, soon sighed to animate the
forms he gazed on, with that soul which pas
sion only gives — and, too soon, succeeded!
The account given of their connexion, by the
reverend father Passeri, (" uomo di soda pieta,
says a modern biographer*,) though brief, is
curious, as coming from a priest ; and it is highly
illustrative of the manners of the age. " While
in Florence," says the Padre, " Salvator enter
ed into an intimate friendship with a lady of
great beauty, whom he had in the first instance
taken as his model, and who afterwards became
his constant companion and solace, though not

* " A man of confirmed piety." Passeri, though a
painter, was a priest, celebrated mass, and was pro
moted to the station of a vicar choral in the collegiate
church of Santa Maria in Vico Lato, by his patron,
Cardinal Alluri. Passeri retired to a sort of monastic
cell, where he lived and died like a hermit, in 1679, having
survived his friend Salvator but seven years.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 73
always laudably or innocently so. But as his
lady loved him much, and was full of good qua
hties, he resolved never to abandon her ; nor
did either ever after think of parting from
the other."
When, therefore, Lucrezia took her place in
the domestic establishment of Salvator Rosa,
with the title of " Sua Governante," though
his graver friends might have lamented the na
ture of the connexion, his guests paid her all
that respect, which in free countries is reserved
exclusively for the " wedded dame ;" and Sal
vator himself offered her that sort of guarded
attention, which men whose passions and moral
sense are at variance, are wont to pay to the
object which occasions the struggle.*

* At the distance of sixteen years from this epoch,
Salvator, writing to his friend the Abate Ricciardi, says :
" Believe that nothing in my memory is so vital and tena
cious as my sense of your affection and of the devotion
which I owe Lucrezia." — Letters of Salvator Rosa.

74 LIFE AND TIMES
If Lucrezia proved herself unworthy of her
chaste name, by yielding to the seductions of
one of the most seducing men of the age, it is
some extenuation of her faidt, that she was not
" won, unwoo'd," nor was she ever faithless to
him, who had rendered her untrue to herself;]
for Salvator styles her " La mia donna cru-
del" * and seems to have always treated her as
* A sonnet said to be addressed to Lorenzo Lippi
by Salvator Rosa, on his painting a portrait of the Signora
Lucrezia, begins thus,
Lippi se bene hai nell' tue linee impressa
La mia Donna crudel, che viva e spira ;
Onde dice ciascun, che la rimira
Questa e la Dea d'amore e viva e desta."
The descendants of Salvator Rosa, now residing in
Rome, possess a portrait, which they assert to be that of
Lucrezia. " It is" (says a gentleman who has lately
seen it) " in a woeful condition, far from interesting, and
not to be ascribed to Salvator, as the head is covered
by a black hood— a. head-dress not in fashion in the time
of Lucrezia, as all the portraits of that age prove. The
picture is most probably not hers.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 75
the wife of a left-handed marriage: — a sort of
union which still exists on the continent, and
of which royalty avails itself, when state-pohcy
is at variance with the pohcy of the heart.
Her name is rarely omitted in his letters, and
always respectfully mentioned ; and she accom
panied him in all his visits, not only to the
villas of his friends the illustrious Maffei,
but to the houses of the most respectable
ecclesiastics. The conduct of Salvator in this instance,
even with reference to the age- and country
in which he lived, was sufficiently indefensi
ble (as violating the best interests and institu
tions of society) to satisfy the mahce of his
enemies, and to grieve the hearts of his friends.
But his blameable frailty was exaggerated, by
the calumny of party-spirit, into heartless and
systematic profligacy ; and the darkest error
of his life*, which he sought to redeem by all
* Salvator and Lucrezia were married at Rome by the

76 LIFE AND TIMES
the means of reparation in his power, was
made the basis of misrepresentations equally
foreign to his taste and character, and in direct
contradiction to all that his contemporary bio
graphers have left on record, both of his life
and death. The party, however, which fell
upon his reputation and his memory, with all
the pertinacious acrimony of a modern Enghsh
Vice-Society, had not one word of reproof to
direct against the Royal Harems of White
hall and Versailles ; and still less for the Prin-
reverend Father Francesco Baldovino (the intimate friend
of Salvator), but too late to save the reputation of the
fair Lucrezia, or to redeem the frailty of her lover. The
bon-mots attributed to Salvator on this subject, even on
his death-bed, were the fabrication of his enemies long
after that event occurred, for the purpose of throwing
an odium on his satires (which attacked so many interests
and prejudices), by blasting the memory of their author.
The account of his last moments by his spiritual attendant,
Baldovino, and his own life and works, are the best re
futation of calumnies which were first published forty-
eight years after he had descended to the grave.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 77
cipesse del Vaticano, as the favourite ladies of
Innocent X. were openly denominated in
Rome. They saw no scandal in the amatory
confessions of Cardinal de Retz,* (who has set
off his amusing memoirs by episodes of his own
loves, and those of his brother cardinals), but
keeping all their moral vituperation for the
plebeian author of "Regulus" and the " Babi-
lonia" prudently judged,
" That, in the Captain, but a choleric word,
Which in the Soldier was foul blasphemy."
It is no small proof of the intensity of his
devotion to Lucrezia, if not of its purity, that
from the period of her becoming an inmate of
his house, Salvator appears gradually to have
withdrawn from that perpetual round of gay
and dissipated society, into which his social
talents had hitherto plunged him ; and even

* " Le Cardinal de Retz," says Voltaire, " parle de
ses amours avec autant de verite, que de ceux du Cardi
nal de Richelieu."

78 LIFE AND TIMES
the Ught and honourable bondage in which he
was held by the Court of the Medici became
so insupportable, that he took the resolution of
throwing up his engagements, and retiring alto
gether from Florence. To soften down this self-
dismission to the Grand Duke and his brothers,
Salvator pleaded his having accepted an invi
tation from his dear friends the Counts Ugo
and Giulio Maffei, who had long pressed him
to pass an indefinite time in their palace in
the antient Etruscan city of Volterra, and at
their two beautiful villas in its neighbourhood,
Monte Ruffoli and Barbajana, for the purpose
of completing and compiling his hterary pro
ductions. The Princes de' Medici, if they re
gretted, did not resent the voluntary retreat of
Salvator; while he, having once snapt asun
der the " dor ate catene della Corte" " never,"
says Baldinucci*, " would again' subject his
* " Non voile mai piu soggettarsi la liberta dell' anima
sua per provisioni di qual si fosse Potentate del mondo ;

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 79
spirit to dependence for any pecuniary recom
pense which any potentate in the world could
bestow on him ; although he was solicited by
some with the most pressing instances : and it
was his only boast to have so managed, that
he could now hve to himself and for his own
pursuits, without any intrusion from others,
and liberated from the gilded chains of a
court." Salvator, in accepting the hospitable invita
tion of his illustrious friends, for himself and
his family, was governed by the favourite senza
suggezione of Italian enjoyment ; and it was
agreed that the taste, feehng, and caprice, of
the eccentric guest of the Maffei, was alone
to limit or extend the length of his visit.
The ancient city of Volterra, crowning a
benches con pressantissime istanze ne fosse solicitato ; ed
era l'unico vanto suo di essersi condotto di vivere a se
stesso, e ai propri studi, senza alcuni di quelle noje
d'altrui che sogliono recare le dorate catene della corte."
— Baldinucci,

80 LIFE AND TIMES
bold acchvity, stands at about twenty miles
distance from Florence. Its mouldering walls,
erected ere Rome was dreamed of, its Etrus
can monuments and many domes and spires,
reflected in the beautiful river Era, which flows
at its base, and the dark woods, which, from the
summit of the surrounding hills, spread their
rich masses to the very verge of the laughing
champaign vales, all contributed to render this
paradise an appropriate residence for one who
was a worshipper of Nature in all her aspects.
Salvator had frequently fled to these fair Etrus
can shades, from the gaieties of Florence, some
times in moods of fitful melancholy, some
times to study landscape under another view
than that presented to him among the terrible
sublimities of the Abruzzi. "And truly it
was a site," says Baldinucci, "well worthy of
his fine and picturesque genius. Rocks, moun
tains, torrents, masses of shade and vistas of
brightness, — aU that is most pictorial, and is
scattered over the most distant regions, — na-

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 8 1
ture had here concentrated ; and here Salvator
may have mdulged, even to surfeit, his philo
sophical humour, and nourished those profound
speculations which he afterwards wove into
poetical compositions." It was here that (ac
cording to Passeri also) he took the scenery of
his great Bacchanalian piece, and of several of
his landscapes for the Palace Pitti, "some of
which,'" says a modern French writer, '* have
all the glow and softness of Claude Lorraine."
It was here too, on the very spot where
Catiline fought and fell, (and
'¦ Xothing in his life
Became him like his leaving it,")
that Salvator (himself no stranger to the
dark councils of conspiracy) first drew in the
elements, and conceived the idea, of the noblest
of all his works — his " Catiline Conspiracy."*
* It is a curious fact, that accident should have con
ducted another conspirator to the same spot, almost at the
same time. For the author of La Conspiration Jc Ftesque,
Cardinal de Retz, the principal instigator of die Fronde,
VOL. II. G

82 LIFE AND TIMES
That longing after solitude which accom
panied Salvator from the cradle to the tomb,
and from which his talents and ambition had
hitherto withdrawn him, was now gratified to
its fullest bent. The Maffei, who passed the
greater part of their winters at Florence, left
him the undisputed master of his time and oc
cupations, in their vast palace at Volterra, and
in their villas in its neighbourhood. It was
during this period that he gave himself up
almost exclusively to deep study, and to the
cultivation of his poetical talents. Here he
first reduced to order, corrected, and tran
scribed, all his satires, (with the exception of
being received in his flight to Rome by the Grand Duke
de' Medici, observes ; " Le Signor Annibal me mena
dans une maison qui est sous Volterra, qui s'appelle
1 'Hospitalita, et qui est batie sur le champ ou Catilina
fut cue; elle Tetait autrefois au grand Laurent de Medicis."
Memoires de Retz. — Salvator must have been a resident
at Volterra at the very time that his fugitive Eminence
passed a few days at the Hospitalita.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 83
his Z' Invidia,) for the purpose of their pub
lication ; and here he first read them consecu-
. tively to the hterary friends who from time to
time came to visit him from Florence: — not,
however, with all the charm of his musical
recitation, as when he gave them al improvviso
at Rome and at Florence ; but with the so
briety and timidity of one about to avail him
self of the judgment of the judicious few, before
he ventured to appear before the tribunal of
the mighty many.
The person from whose criticisms upon these
occasions he made no appeal, was the celebrated
experimentalist Redi, who, says a French
writer, "ft une revolution dans la medecine et
sut si bien inter roger la Nature." When Redi
pointed out to Salvator, in the course of his
readings, the frequent Neapolitanisms, or ra
ther the anti-Tuscanisms, which disfigured his
work, he instantly struck them out; and, at
Redi's suggestion, he endeavoured to moderate
the impetuous ardour with which he wrote,
G 2

84 LIFE AND TIMES
and to give more method and unity to the bold
and wild productions which flowed from his
copious imagination with a Pythian vehe-.
mence. " I have myself," says Baldinucci, " a
volume of his (Salvator's) by me now, in which
he entered his verses without rule or order,
and which bears testimony to the impatient
manner in which he noted down the ' velocis-
sime effusioni' (most rapid effusions) of his
intellect." Baldinucci observes, " that many
of these fragments were in blank verse (versi
sciolti), and were conceits which Rosa after
wards incorporated in his Satires."
Although the life of Salvator was now rather
that of a man of letters than a painter, he was
so far from abandoning his art, that he regu
larly devoted a few hours of every day to its
pursuit ; and he painted successively, for his
illustrious hosts, his " Sacrifice of Abel" and
his " Queen Esther," in which it is tradi
tionally said, that the portrait of Lucrezia
is preserved. He also painted, as a present

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 85
for Ugo Maffei, the fine portrait of himself
(Salvator) which now hangs in the Royal Gal
lery at Florence ; and which is remarkable as
being (in all probability) the foundation-picture
of that collection of the portraits of painters
which owes its existence to Cardinal Leopold
de' Medici. Ugo Maffei had given the por
trait of Salvator to the Cardinal, who shortly
after invited all the painters in Europe to send
in their own portraits ; and thus began one of
the most interesting departments of the most
interesting gallery in the world. It was occa
sionally the custom of Salvator, at this period,
to leave even the retirement of the Maffei
palace at Volterra, for the still deeper solitudes
of the deserted villa of Barbajano ; and it was
upon these occasions that he was wont to re
lieve the fatigues of deep and pensive medi
tation, by sketching httle historical subjects on
the walls of the rooms, done as it were on
scraps of paper, hung up by a nail or peg.
Although these capricious trifles were only

86 LIFE AND TIMES
composed in black and white, yet so powerful
was their rehef, and so finely managed their
hghts and shadows, that they appeared to the
eye of the spectator to be dropping from the
walls ; and many a hand was stretched put to
rescue fragments so precious from the accidents
which apparently threatened their destruction.
The placid retirement and studious sohtude
of Salvator, though unreservedly indulged for
a part of the year, were agreeably interrupted
during the seasons of the Carnival and of the
Villeggiatura, which the Maffei always spent in
Volterra and their Etruscan villas. The carnival
was there celebrated with its wonted gaieties
and festivities'. Comedies were acted at the
Palazzo Maffei, and Salvator re-appeared on
the scene in the new character of Pattaca, a
shrewd varlet, who had become manager of a
dramatic company.
The carnival over, and the villeggiatura
begun, Salvator (previously stipulating for his
dear independence, and for privacy during a

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 87
certain period of the day,) accompanied the
circle which composed the elegant society of the
Monte-Ruffoli. On these occasions he whoUy
laid aside his pencils, and, when not in society,
devoted himself to hterary pursuits. " The
first hours of the morning," says one of his
biographers, " were given to the chase ; and
the interval, between his return and dinner,
was devoted to study and composition." It
was, however, at the supper, which followed
these dinners, at which the most distinguished
hterati of Florence assembled, that the hours
fled on golden wings. It was there that Sal
vator's spirits took their brightest tone, and his
morning studies never failed to afford him some
pleasant text, producing an animated and pro
longed discussion, more noted, it is said, for its
" mirabile giocondita" than for its gravity or
learning. Thus at intervals enjoying the society of
the elegant and the enhghtened, retired from
the cares and cabals of the world he always
despised, secluded in scenes of beauty with one

88 LIFE AND TIMES
he loved " not wisely, but too well," Salvator
might be supposed to have united all the views,
and gratified all the tastes, of the poet, philoso
pher, and lover. This does not, however, ap
pear to have been the fact : Florence had been
the exile's refuge — Volterra was his asylum;
and both were connected with the unpleasant
feehngs which accompany a sense of banish
ment and of dependence. Besides, he was
" nel mezzo del cammin dell' nostra vita"* in the
noon of life's brief day, and he turned anxiously
towards some resting-place, which he might call
by the blessed name of home. He was also a
father ; for his eldest son Rosalvo was born
about this time, and he must have felt in this
increase of family, an impediment to his re
maining a domesticated guest, even with his
most intimate friend, f
* Dante.
+ In one of his letters to Ricciardi after his arrival in
Rome, he talks with triumph of being restored to his
pristine liberty. " Posso dire d'essere restitutio alla mia
pristina liberta."

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 89
To a man of his intellect and generalized
views, a provincial capital hke Florence was
but ill adapted for a permanent residence. The
perpetual interference of the petty sovereigns
of such petty states with their enslaved sub
jects, might in the end have proved a source of
endless disquietude to one, who as an artist,
either harassed by their patronage, or injured
by their neglect, would have been held particu
larly subject to their dictation and their caprice.
He had probably not forgotten the fate of
Benvenuto Cellini, the unfortunate protege
of Cosmo de' Medici ; and he was well
aware, that, as a casual visitor, he enjoyed ad
vantages in Florence, which, as a permanent
resident, he could never hope to preserve. He
had, besides, evidently got weary of that aca
demic pedantry which prevailed in its hterary
circles ; and having already consigned the Delia
Crusca and its " Infarinati " to eternal ridicule
in stanzas which were now in every body's
mouth, he had laid the foundation of future
hterary persecutions from an incorporated so-

90 LIFE AND TIMES
ciety of learned blockheads, who were still
flushed with the triumphs won by their ridicu
lous predecessors, over one of the greatest poets
Italy had ever produced, — a poet, who, hke
Salvator, was a Neapolitan.
He resolved therefore on leaving Florence.
There was but one city in Italy, which his habits
and tastes led him to select for a permanent re
sidence ; and that city was Rome. Early asso
ciations, early friendships, early triumphs were
all connected with that still great capital of the
arts ; and it is more than probable, that many
of his Roman friends had paved the way for
his return. The Ghigi family were all power
ful. Some of his old opponents in the Conclave
who had fancied that they had found a place
in " La Fortuna,'' were dead : and time and
accident had done their usual work of devasta
tion, and removed other impediments to his
return. From the great masters then resident
in Rome, he may have supposed that he had
httle to apprehend. Claude Lorraine was de-

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 91
chning into the vale of years, though not declin
ing in vogue. Gaspar Poussin was prematurely
wearing out by physical infirmities, brought on
by his immoderate passion for field sports ; and
Nicolas Poussin was becoming old and infirm.
Even Bernini, who had found, like other
despots, that the abuse of power eventually
turns against itself, had " fallen into the sear,
the yellow leaf," and becoming, as one of his
biographers styles it, " the victim of a terrible
conspiracy," was reduced to inventing gewgaw
carriages for the eccentric Queen Christina of
Sweden, whose restless, wandering spirit had
then led her to the Court of Rome. Pietro da
Cortona and Carlo Maratti were indeed still in
their prime ; but they were friends whom Sal
vator was glad to meet, and rivals he had no
cause to fear.

92 LIFE AND TIMES

CHAPTER IX.
1652—1673.
Departure of Rosa celebrated by the Tuscan poets-
He arrives in Rome, and establishes himself on the
Monte Pincio— Scenery of the Pincio at that epoch —
Salvator attacked by his professional rivals and political
enemies — Refuses to paint for the public, and executes
pictures for his own gallery — Again receives orders, and
executes several great works — Paints for the Constable
Colonna, for the King of Denmark, and for the Vene
tian Ambassador — Paints his great battle-piece as a
present from the Court of Rome to Louis XIV. — His
generosity — Birth of his son Agosto — His splendid
position in Rome — His walks on the Monte Pincio —
Fresh persecutions — Attack on his historical pictures —
He refuses to paint small pictures and landscapes — At
tacks on his poetical works — His unhappy state of mind
— Accepts an invitation to attend the royal nuptials of
Cosmo III. at Florence, for the purpose of changing the
scene— Resides at the house of Paolo Minucci, and at

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 93
Strozzavolpe — Refuses an invitation from the Arch
duke Ferdinand — Refuses to paint during his visit to
Florence — His engravings — His Filosofo Negro — Ma
donna Anna Gaetano — The Portrait — Return of Sal
vator to Rome — He makes a journey to Loretto — His
enthusiasm for romantic scenery — His return to Rome
" — Resumes his professional and ordinary habits.
Salvator returned to Florence in order to
bid farewell to the friends who had contri
buted to the happiness of those years he had
enjoyed there ; and his departure from that
capital for Rome was marked by every public
testimony of respect, and every private mark
of regret, that could flatter his love of glory,
or gratify his affections.*
Elegies, sonnets, and poetical adieus, (" all
collected by me" says that arch-collector of all
things, Baldinucci,) flowed in from all quarters.
* Baldinucci observes, that when Salvator left Florence
for Rome, it was " con sommo e generale dispiacere degli
amid," to the great regret of his friends, who could not,
he declares, take leave of him without tears.

94 LIFE AND TIMES
The names of the Due di Salviatti, of the ma
thematician Torricelh, of Cardinal BandineUi,
and the Abate Ricciardi, are distinguished
among the elegiac eulogists, who recorded in
Tuscan verse the loss which the society of
Florence sustained, by the departure of one of
its most brilliant and accomphshed members.
The deep impressions of tenderness and regret
which Salvator carried away with him from
Florence, and his occasional visits during the
remainder of his life to his friends Minucci,
Ricciardi, and Maffei, prove, that if Rome was
the object of his professional ambition, Tuscany,
with the beauty of her scenes and the amenity
of her inhabitants, was the rallying point of
his most gracious recollections !
Although the assignments of the court had
been most liberal, and his gains immense, he
confessed in confidence, to Baldinucci and
others, that he carried with him to Rome but
a small sum of money. For the generosity
with which he had assisted in their pecuniary

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 95
embarrassments, not only his friends, but upon
several occasions his known enemies*, was as
httle favourable to accumulation, as his pro
fessed principles, which made him an open and
avowed contemner of wealth, were inimical to
every sordid consideration. Still, however,
while preaching a stoical philosophy, and in
some instances practising it, (by one of those
contrarieties which chequer human character,
* " In questo pero era si poco fortunato, che si trovo
bene spesso d'avere impegnato gli atti della propria bene-
ficenza apro de' persone che scordatesi del benefizio,
occuparavano poi luogo de' maggior anzi fra i di lui piu
giurati nemici e persecutori, e furono quegli stessi che
piu di ogni altro prefero a biasimare le belle opere sue,
tanto in pittura, che in poesia t-" — Baldinucci.

f In this instance he was so little lucky, that he fre
quently found he had lavished his acts of beneficence
upon persons, who, forgetful of his generosity, ranged
themselves among his bitterest enemies and persecutors,
and who, above all others, were ever ready to condemn his
works, both pictorial and poetical.

g(j LIFE AND TIMES.''
and render the conduct of the wisest at best
but " A tangled web of good and ill together,")
Salvator was fond of splendid and ostentatious
display. He courted admiration from whatever
source she could be obtained, and even sought
her by means to which the frivolous and the
vain are supposed alone to resort. He is de
scribed therefore as now returning to that Rome
from which he had made so perilous and fur
tive an escape, in a showy and pompous equi
page, with " servants in rich liveries, armed
with silver-hafted swords, and otherwise well
accoutred." The beautiful Lucrezia as "sua
Governante" accompanied him, and the httle
Rosalvo gave no scandal in a society where
the institutions of religion substitute hcence
for legitimate indulgence, and prove that
nature is never violated with impunity. Im
mediately on his arrival in Rome, Salvator
fixed upon one of the lovehest of her hills
for his residence, and purchased an handsome

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 97
house upon the Monte Pincio *, on the Piazza
della Trinita del Monte; " which," says Pas
coli f, " he furnished with noble and rich
furniture, establishing himself on the great
scale and in a lordly manner." A site more
favourable than the Pincio for a man of Sal
vator's taste and genius could scarcely be ima
gined, commanding within the scope of its vast
prospect, views at once picturesque and splendid,
monuments of the most important events in
the history of man — the Capitol and Campus
Martius ! the groves of the Quirinal, and the
Cupola of St. Peter's ! the ruined palaces of
the Caesars, and the sumptuous villas of the sons
of the reigning church! Such was then, as
now, the range of unrivalled objects which the
* Passeri, who frequently visited at Rosa's house, says
expressly, that Salvator lived in the Piazza della Trinitd,
nella Piazza d'Espagna, which must mean directly over the
Piazza d'Espagna.
t "Di nobili e ricchi arnesi; e trattendosi alla grande,
e da signore." — Pascoli.
VOL. II. H

98 LIFE AND TIMES
Pincio commanded: but the noble terrace
smoothed over its acclivities, which recalled the
memory of Aurelian and the feats of Behsarius,
presented at that period a far different aspect
from that which it now offers. Every thing in
this enchanting site was then fresh and splendid;
the halls of the Villa Medici, which at present
only echo to the steps of a few French students
or Enghsh travellers, were then the busthng
and splendid residence of the old intriguing
Cardinal Carlo de' Medici, called the Cardinal
of Tuscany, whose followers and faction were
perpetually coming to and fro, mingling their
showy uniforms and hveries with the sober
vestments of the neighbouring monks of the
Convent della Trinita! The delicious groves
and gardens of the Villa Medici then covered
more than two Enghsh miles*, and amidst

* The Villa Medici was erected in 1550, by Cardinal
Ricci di Monte Pulciano, and was purchased by the Car
dinal Alexander Medici, afterwards Pope Leo XI. The

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 99
cypress shades and shrubberies, watered by
clear springs and reflected in translucent foun
tains, stood exposed to pubhc gaze all that now
forms the most precious treasures of the Flo
rentine gallery — the Niobe! the Wrestlers!
the Apollino ! the Vase ! and, above all, the
Venus of Venuses!* which has derived its dis
tinguishing appeUation from these gardens, of
Cardinals of Tuscany continued to reside in it until the
year 1666, when it was purchased by the French govern
ment under Louis XIV., as an academy of the fine arts
and a school for the young students of the French
nation. * When Evelyn visited Rome in 1644, three years be
fore Salvator went to Naples to join Falcone's party, the
Niobe group was still standing in the open air. " Here
is also a low balustrade with white marble, covered over
with natural shrubs, ivy, and other perennial greens,
divers statues and heads being placed as in niches ; at a
little distance are those famed statues of Niobe and her
family, in all fifteen," &c— Evelyn, Vol. i. p.,97-8. What
a neighbourhood for Salvator Rosa !
h 2

100 LIFE AND TIMES
which she was long the boast and ornament.
In emerging from the shady bowers and the
pleasant terraces of the Villa Medici, the "glo
rious fabrick," the " elysium of delight" as
Evelyn calls the Villa Borghese, burst upon the
eye, and allured the steps^- to its blooming Para
dise ! Not then, as now, did the voluptuous
dwelhng of the Borghese exhibit its luxurious
banqueting hall and magnificent porticoes !
Neglect had not then faded the brilliant tints
of its frescoed pavilions, suffered its pure foun
tains to mantle, or its living springs to dry !
Its gardens were not then weedy wildernesses,
nor its saloons silent as the tomb ! In the plea
surable retreat of the powerful Cardinal Bor
ghese of that day, every thing spoke the " pomp
and circumstance" which the frankly voluptuous
sons of the church gloried in displaying with rival
splendour ! There was nothing of that unsocial
self-centred enjoyment, of that sly, sullen, and
sober sensuahty, which mark the private and
indolent life of the prelates of a more modern
sect, and add the vices of simulation and selfish-

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 101
ness to the sumptuous frailties of the demi
gods of the conclave. With them external mag
nificence was coupled with personal enjoy
ment. Their habits and tastes were still in
some coincidence with the arts, and forwarded
the developement of the national genius : and if
their cooks and gardeners were inferior to those
of their reformed brethren in our own days, their
porticoes and galleries exhibit to posterity far
nobler monuments of taste and hberality, than
those which future generations may discover in
the snug eating parlours of the old diocesan pa
laces of another but an equally wealthy hier
archy. The Monte Pincio, however, was in
habited in the middle of the seventeenth century
by personages more remarkable than princes
and prelates, and exhibited edifices which,
though of smaller pretension, were not less
interesting than its palaces and convents.
The pictorial genius of Rome has, at various
epochs, chosen the Pincio as its temporary
or final residence ; and the house selected by
Salvator Rosa to live and die in. stood nearly

102 LIFE AND TIMES
opposite to that salient angle in the Piazza
della Trinita, which is formed by the elegant
mansion raised by Federigo Zucchero, and still
enriched by his frescoes ; and it was situated
between the houses of N. Poussin and Claude
Lorraine* — a proof of the good understanding
which must have existed between these great
masters, ere Salvator fixed upon so close a
community for his permanent residence and
last home.
In the arrangements of his new residence,
* The facades of all these houses have heen, I am told,
thrown down and rebuilt ; and it would now be impos
sible to guess at their original dimensions. Such subjects
have no interest for the modern Romans, of which the
filthy and neglected state of the residence of Cola Rienzi
(the most singular specimen extant of the domestic archi
tecture of the middle ages) is a proof; and in this in
stance, as in every other relative to the subject of this
work, I have found it impossible to obtain any informa
tion I could depend upon from those immediately on the
spot.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 103
Salvator displayed all his characteristic pecu
liarities ; still sheltering his natural love of ele
gant splendour under his respect for the art. His
gallery, decorated by some of his finest pictures,
which he had brought from Florence, shone
with rich gilding and curious carvings, conspi
cuous on the massive frames in which his pre
cious works were enshrined* ; vessels of sohd sil
ver (presents from his admirers) were carelessly
displayed; and all the furniture of this httle
temple of the arts was of suitable splendour ;
while his own saloon, where he received his
* Salvator, like the great masters of a preceding age,
himself made the designs for the frames which enclosed
his own works.
In disposing of his pictures, he always refused to sell
the frames, which remained on the walls of his gallery.
When accused by his friends of lavishing unnecessarily
large sums of money on what was merely ornamental,
he was wont with a smile to reply from Ariosto,
" Molto crescc una beltu, una bel manto."

104 LIFE AND TIMES
friends in private intimacy, continued the tub
of Diogenes, and retained all the frugal simpli
city which distinguished the house of the young
and indigent Rosa of the Via Babbuina in less
prosperous times.
On the return of Salvator to Rome, and his
immediate establishment on the Pincio, those
that remained of his old friends rallied round
him ; but he soon found, that if time and death
had thinned the ranks of his ancient enemies,
" Les envieux meurcnt, mais non pas I'Envie."
Calumny met him at the gates of Rome, de
famation was at " its dirty work again," and
professional envy, sheltering itself under party
feehng, attacked the principles and opinions of
a man, whose genius and successes were the
true causes of the persecutions he endured.
According to Baldinucci and Passeri, it was in
vain that " orders poured in upon him from
divers parts of the world." He had still to

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 105
struggle at home against his most implacable
enemies, ignorance and envy.*
To find in the spot which for the sake of
early impressions and long-formed ties he had
chosen as his last home, envy, hatred, and op
position, filled the susceptible bosom of Salvator
with bitterness ; and he gave himself up for a
time to the most gloomy feehngs. "He ran
over in his mind," says Pascoh, "all the
injustices he had from the beginning endured,
all the wrongs that had from time to time been
heaped on him, and had opened fresh wounds
in his heart f; and he finally determined to take
a signal vengeance. With this view he not
only put a price upon his works excessive be
yond ah purchase, but he finally forbore selling
them at all, contemning the offers he received,
* " Ai piu. implacabili nemici, cioe all' ignoranza ed
all' invidia." — Baldinucci.
X " Pungentissime colpe nel cuorc," is Pascoli's strong
expression.

106 LIFE AND TIMES
and even treating with hauteur the individuals
who made them; thus giving the last blow*
to the hopes of those who still sought to enrich
their collection by the works of the artist,
while they abandoned the man to the persecu
tions of his enemies. He continued, however,
to exhibit his noble productions at all pubhc
exhibitions, and then withdrew them to his
own gallery, declaring that his pictures were
now executed for himself alone.
Having thus frequently sharpened desire, by
exciting admiration and then disappointing it,
" he for a time," says Pascoli, " held the wishes
of the pubhc in suspense." His necessities,
however, obhged him to abate something of
what he himself terms "his infernal pride."
He again condescended to receive and to exe
cute orders ; but it appears that he did so at no
vulgar behest, for he now worked chiefly for
princes and prelates ; and his pictures became
* " Per dar maggior martcllo alle lor brame."

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 107
diplomatic bribes between intriguing cabinets,
or royal presents from king to king.
While Carlo Maratti was working with daily
assiduity in the magnificent gallery of the most
interesting palace in Rome (the Colonna), con
descending to paint cupids and roses on fragile
mirrors, (which, however, still decorate walls
dismantled of nobler and more lasting orna
ments,) Salvator was employed by the Con
stable Colonna in painting historical pictures
for the same gallery, and even affected to
barter compliments with the puissant prince.
By more than one ill-timed but generous
present to a man so greatly his superior in
wealth and rank, he unconsciously laid the
foundation of a calumny against his noted dis
interestedness, which, inconsistent as it is,
still stamps his hberal character with one so
litary incident of ridicule, or of avarice. " The
Constable Colonna," says a modern retailer of
pictorial anecdotes, "sent a purse of gold to
Salvator Rosa on receiving one of his beautiful

108 LIFE AND TIMES
landscapes. The painter, not to be outdone
in generosity, sent the prince another picture
as a present, which the prince insisted on re
munerating with another purse ; another pre
sent and another purse followed ; and this
struggle between generosity and liberality con
tinued to the tune of many other pictures and
presents, until the prince, finding himself a
loser by the contest, sent Salvator two purses,
with the assurance that he gave in, " et lui ceda
le champ de bataille." The pictures painted
at this time for the Constable Colonna were,
" Mercury and the Peasant," " Moses found
by Pharaoh's daughter,"* the two sublime
St. Johns, and the landscapes which gave rise
to the calumnious anecdote above recited.
About this time he is also said to have
painted his Jonas preaching at Nineveh, for
* The fate of these two pictures is thus detailed by a
French writer : " Des Anglais les ont porte en 1800 dans
leur patrie, ou ils ont ete estimes a 84,000 livres."

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 109
the King of Denmark, which was followed by
two great pictures for the Venetian ambassador
then at Rome. Shortly after, Monsignore
Corsini, being chosen Nuncio from the Court
of Rome to Louis XIV, " and it having been
duly considered what would be the most accept
able offering to lay at the King's feet, it was
decided in favour of a work to be executed by
Salvator Rosa." This distinction coming at
a moment when this Lion of the art was stung
to the quick by the host of venomous insects
that had fastened on him, must have been most
gracious: Salvator, indeed, in mentioning the
subject to Ricciardi, expresses, with an almost
childish naivete, his sense of the flattering pre
ference given him over all the painters of Rome,
at a moment when the Poussins, Claude Lorraine,
Maratti, and Pietro da Cortona, were in the
summit of their reputation. Still, for one whose
vanity has always been brought in evidence
against him, he assigns with infinite modesty
as one of the causes of this preference, that " he

110 LIFE AND TIMES
worked with greater celerity than other artists,
and that the prompt departure of the Nuncio left
but forty days for the execution of the picture."
" Signor Corsini (he writes) having been
chosen Nuncio to the Court of France, after
some consideration as to the offering to be made
to the King, it was last week resolved, that it
should be a picture of mine ; the subject, a
great battle-piece, the exact size of my Baccha
nals, which you are acquainted with ; viz. four
teen palms in length and nine in breadth : and
for the execution forty days only are allowed me.
As Monsignor must leave Rome by the end of
September, and he was aware that no other
painter could have executed his commission in
so short a time, especially as it must be painted
during the hot month of August, he has shut
his eyes to the two hundred doubloons which is
the lowest price I would accept. On my part, I
most joyfully accept the commission, not only
on account of the high price given, but for the
high distinction (and it could not be higher) of

OF SALVATOR ROSA. Ill
having a picture of mine selected by preference,
as an offering from Rome to a King of France.*
While employed upon this immortal battle-
piece, this poetry of carnage f, he observes to
Ricciardi, that " his head was as full of slaugh
ter and uproar, as though it were the head of
Alecto herself." He seems indeed to have been
* Letters of Salvator Rosa.
t This picture (with the Witch of Endor, by the same
artist) is esteemed among the chefs-d'ceuvre of the Royal
Museum of France in the present day. The following
description, taken from Taillasson, will give some idea of
its merit : —
" Sa grande bataille conservee au Museum est surtout
un ouvrage admirable, une poesie de carnage anime la
scene, les ruines d'un palais, une vaste et aride plaine, des
montagnes sauvages, le ciel, tous les objets de ce tableau
ont un aspect funeste, et semblent n'avoir ete faits que pour
retentir des cris funebres. La discorde et la rage y tri-
omphent au milieu des maux quelles font, la soif devo-
rante du sang embrase tous les combattans, et jamais sur
un theatre de carnage les blessures et la mort ne furent
presentees plus terribles et plus affreuses."

112 LIFE AND TIMES
wound up to his highest/pitch of excitement by
its success : he calls it his " blessed picture,"
and observes to his correspondent, " Should it
succeed in France as it has done here, (and
that I swear to you is as much as any modern
picture ever did, not to speak of the old
masters,) I shah be satisfied." All Rome
crowded to his house to behold this splendid
performance; and that the Spanish Nuncio
offered him his own price at the same moment
for two pictures to present to the very sovereign
against whom Salvator had borne arms, was a
curious incident at a time when the loyal
academy of San Luca still refused to admit him
among its members, and when he found it im
possible to procure the painting of a sopra-porta
for any pubhc edifice in Rome.
Proud as he appears to have been of the high
prices which he now received, he seems to have
set no further value on money*, than as it
* " Ce peintre (Salvator Rosa) extremement genereux,
travailla plus pour la gloire que pour amasser des
richesses." — Abrege de la Vie des plusfameux Peintres.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 113
enabled him to assist his friends in their pecu
niary difficulties ; and on learning the derange
ment of his dear friend Ricciardi's circumstances,
occasioned by the extravagant conduct of a
spendthrift brother, he placed aU his recent earn
ings at his disposal, with an earnestness and
cordiality which is not to be mistaken for mere
profession. " I am here," he says, " to assist
you, and I swear that so long as I am master
of one giuho, one half of it shall be yours ; so
cheer up, and smile misfortune out of counte
nance. Remember that I am now richer than
all the Croesuses and Caecilii* together; let
that suffice, since I am yours truly and
sincerely f ."
It was in vain that the birth of a second son,
(his favourite Agosto) and the advice of Ricciardi

* Csecilius Claudius Isodorus left in his will to his
heirs, 4116 slaves, 3600 yokes of oxen, 257,000 small
cattle, and 600,000 greater sesterces of silver, — Plin.
33. cap. x.
t Letters of Salvator Rosa.
VOL. II. I

H4 LIFE AND TIMES
himself, urged Salvator to put some bounds to
his generosity and hberal habits of hfe. He
promised fairly, but did not as fairly perform.
" At this time," says Pascoli*, " he figured
away as the great painter, opening his house
to all his friends, who came from all parts
to visit him, and among others to Antonio
Abbati, who had resided for many years in
Germany. This old acquaintance of the poor
Salvatoriello of the Chiesa della Morte at
Viterbo, was not a little amazed to find his
patient and humble auditor of former times,
one of the most distinguished geniuses and hos
pitable Amphitryons of the day ; and Pascoh
gives a curious picture of the prevailing pe
dantry of the times, by describing a discourse
of Antonio Abbati's at Salvator's dinner-table,
on the superior merits of the ancient painters
over the moderns, in which he " bestowed all
the tediousness" of his erudition on the com-
* " Representava egli allora la figura vivamente di
gran pittore."

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 115
pany. Salvator answered him in his own style,
and having overturned all his arguments in
favour of antiquity, with more learning than
they had been supported, ended with an im
promptu epigram in his usual way, which
brought the laughers on his side.
" Signor Abbati mio, non parlo in gioco,
Questo che dato avete, e un gran giudizio,
Ma del giudizio n' avete poco." *
To all external appearances, the position of
Salvator Rosa, both as a painter, a poet, and
a distinguished member of the best society, was
now eminently prosperous. Wherever he ap
peared, the finger of curiosity was pointed at
him — a gracious circiunstance in the hfe of
the ambitious and the vain ! From the
moment that delicious spring of the Roman
climate burst into its sudden bloom, till the
* I give the anecdote as it is related by Pascoli ; but
the impromptu epigram is a parody on his own lines in
La Pittura, which he puts into the mouth of the hyper-
critic Biagio, on the subject of Michael Angelo's picture
of die Last Judgment.

116 LIFE AND TIMES
intolerable heats and fatal mal-aria of autumn
emptied its pubhc walks and thinned its
corso, the appearance of Salvator Rosa and
his followers on the Monte Pincio, to which
he confined his evening walks, never failed to
produce a general sensation, and to draw all
the professed disciples of the "far niente"
from the embowering shades of the gardens of
the Villa Medici. The Monte Pincio was
then, as now, the fashionable passeggio, or
lounge, of Rome ; but at a period when
every nation, class, and profession still pre
served its characteristic costume, the Roman
mall exhibited many such fantastic groupings,
as in modern times might furnish the genius of
masquerade with models equally striking and
picturesque. Among the strolling parties of monks and
friars, cardinals and prelates, Roman princesses
and Enghsh peers, Spanish grandees and
French cavaliers, which then crowded the
Pincio, there appeared two groups, which
may have recalled those of the Portico or

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 117
the Academy, and which never failed to in
terest and fix the attention of the beholders.
The leader of one of these singular parties was
the venerable Nicholas Poussin ! The air of
antiquity which breathed over all his works
seemed to have infected even his person and his
features ; and his cold, sedate, and passionless
countenance*, his measured pace and sober
deportment, spoke that phlegmatic tempera
ment and regulated feehng, which had led him
to study monuments rather than men, and to
declare that the result of all his experience
was " to teach him to live well with all per
sons." Soberly clad, and sagely accompanied
by some learned antiquarian or pious church
man, and by a few of his deferential disciples,
he gave out his trite axioms in measured
phrase and emphatic accent, lectured rather
than conversed, and appeared like one of the
peripatetic teachers of the last days of Athe
nian pedantry and pretension.

* " Si scorgeva piii la severita che la placidezza." —
Vita di Nicola Poussino, Passeri.

118 LIFE AND TIMES
In striking contrast to these academic
figures, which looked like their own " grand-
sires cut in alabaster," appeared, never-faihngly,
on the Pincio, after sunset,* a group of a diffe
rent stamp and character, led on by one who,
in his flashing eye, mobile brow, and rapid
movement — ah fire, feehng, and perception —
was the very personification of genius itself.
This group consisted of Salvator Rosa, gal
lantly if not splendidly habited, and a motley
gathering of the learned and the witty, the gay
and the grave, who surrounded him. He was
constantly accompanied in these walks on the
Pincio by the most eminent virtuosi, poets, mu
sicians, and cavahers in Rome, all anxious to
draw him out on a variety of subjects, when air,
exercise, the desire of pleasing, and the conscious
ness of success, had wound him up to his high
est pitch of excitement ; while many, who could
not appreciate, and some who did not approve,

* Passeri, 432.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 119
were still anxious to be seen in his train, merely
that they might have to boast " nos quoque. "*
From the Pincio, Salvator Rosa was generally
accompanied home by the most distinguished
persons, both for talent and rank ; and while
the frugal and penurious Poussin was hghting
out some reverend prelate or antiquarian with
one sorry taper, Salvator f, the prodigal Salva
tor, was passing the evening in his elegant gal
lery, in the midst of princes if, nobles, and
* " E particolarmente verso la sera." Passeri : — who
describes his followers as " Letterati, uomini di ingegno,
e di bel talento, musici, e cantori della prima classe,"
p. 432. With respect to the professional musicians,
'Passeri seems to think that Salvator rather tolerated, than
approved, of their society ; for, he observes, " he knew
what they weighed, and only endured them for purposes
of his own."
t See Life of Poussin.
t " The society at his house was always numerous ;
consisting of cavaliers, prelates, princes, and I believe
that some of the sacred college did not decline going
there." — Passeri, p. 432.

120 LIFE AND TIMES
men of wit and science, where he made new
claims on their admiration, both as an artist
and as an improvvisatore ; — for till within a few
years of his death he continued to recite his own
poetry, and to sing his own compositions to the
harpsichord or lute.
But neither the obsequiousness of the idle,
the notice of the great, nor the devotion of his
few well-tried friends, could soothe the irritable
sensibility* of one, who was kept on the rack
by those attacks upon his genius, his works,
and his character, which he wanted the strength
or vanity to despise, or the prudence to pass
over in silent contempt.
Even the names of these calumniators, of
* While leading a life apparently so conformable to his
vanity and ambition, in the midst of the great and the
noble, he thus writes to Ricciardi : — " As you have ex
cited my envy by your description of your residence at
Carfagnana, enjoying that wood scenery so consonant to
both our tastes, I swear to you that I have bid farewell to
happiness since I have quitted Monte Ruffoli." — Letters
»f Sahator Rosa-

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 121
whom Salvator and his biographers so bitterly
complain, are now unknown ; and they who
so long possessed the power of torturing living
genius, and darkening the mortal days of him
whose works still keep his fame in the full
freshness of popular admiration, have not them
selves maintained even a parasite existence, nor
preserved their own perishable reputations,
embalmed in the sweet memory of the man
they so unsparingly persecuted. But such is
the fate of extraordinary talent, and such the
price which is paid for that intellectual supe
riority, which arms against itself all the vani
ties and all the spleen of grovelling yet ambi
tious mediocrity !
Salvator was scarcely established in Rome,
to enjoy the profitless but intoxicating admira
tion which his social talents always excited,
when the cry was raised against his great his
torical pictures, and with such success, that for
a time he received no orders for figure-pieces ;
while demands poured in for his quadretti,

J 22 LIFE AND TIMES
those spirited and graceful httle pictures, be
yond his power as well as his will to exe
cute. It was under such mortifying circum
stances that his temper and equanimity wholly
forsook him ; and he could no longer restrain
his bitter humour and vehement feehngs, even
in the presence of those whose rank commonly
imposes restraint on ordinary characters and
inferior classes. The Prince Francesco Ximenes
having arrived in Rome, found time, in the
midst of the honours paid to him, to visit Sal
vator Rosa, and being received by the artist in
his gahery, he told him frankly, that he " had
come for the purpose of seeing and purchasing
some of those beautiful small landscapes, whose
manner and subjects had delighted him in many
foreign galleries." * " Be it known then to

* His own words are, " Sapiate ch' io non so fare paesi !
So ben fare le figure, le quale io procuro che sieno vedute
dagli studiosi delle arti, e da persone di alcuno giudizio

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 123
your ExceUency," interrupted Rosa impetuously,
" that / know nothing of landscape painting.
Something indeed I do know of painting figures
and historical subjects, which I strive to ex
hibit to such eminent judges as yourself, in
order that once for all I may banish from
the pubhc mind that fantastic humour of sup
posing I am a landscape, and not an historical
painter." Shortly after, a very rich cardinal (" ricchis-
simo porporato" ), whose name is not recorded,
called on Salvator to purchase some pictures; and
as his Eminence walked up and down the gahery,
he always paused before some certain quadretti,
and never before the historical subjects, while
Salvator muttered from time to time between his
clenched teeth, " sempre, sempre, paesi piccole."
When at last the Cardinal glanced his eye over

come voi siete, per cavare una volta del capo alla gente
questo fantastico umore ch' io sia pittore da paese, e
non da figure."

J 24 LIFE AND TIMES
some great historical picture, and carelessly
asked the price as a sort of company question,
Salvator bellowed forth, " un milione." His
Eminence, stunned or offended, hurried away,
and returned no more.
It was at this period that Salvator painted
his fine picture of " Job ;" for he, hke the
great subject of his selection, was one " bitter
in soul." In this noble picture, the sufferer
appears equally tormented by the remon
strances of friends, and the inflictions of his
destiny. One in the garb of philosophy is
evidently reasoning with him in vain, while a
rude soldier gives him ah the uncalculated sym
pathy of deep-felt commiseration, so much
more soothing to misery than the counsel of
the prudent or the precepts of the wise. This
is one of Salvator's finest works. It is a repro
duction of himself. It was purchased for, and
long graced the Santa Croce gallery at Rome.
It is at present in England.*
* A recent visitor at Fonthill Abbey observes of this

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 125
He now obstinately refused to paint any small
pictures whatever; and was so maddened by
perpetual opposition, (" entrato in un smanio
cost inquiete") that no sum that could be offered
him (and the largest, says Passeri, were at his
disposal) could induce him for a time to break
through a resolution so sustained by Jfcis pride,
yet so injurious to his interests.
While he was thus strugghng against the
arduous intrigues of professional rivalry in one
art, he was attacked on the subject of another
(as he himself expresses it) by " the horrible
infamies of his enemies," with a species of in
sidious malignity against which there was no
protection. Some accused him of usurping the
fame of another, of whose posthumous works
he had possessed himself; others denied his
poetry all merit whatsoever. Some partisans
picture, while speaking of others in the collection, " The
Job of Salvator Rosa, in my opinion, is worth them all
together. This is very little more than a fine piece of
chiaro-oscuro ; but painted with such strong character
and effect as to awe the beholder. ''

126 LIFE AND TIMES
of the government, under colour of a mere
curiosity to hear his satires, or a desire of
replying to them, (according to the wrang
ling spirit of the day, which placed all lite
rary subjects in dispute,) proved themselves
the suborned spies upon his privacy; and in
their attempts to draw down pubhc odium in
the place of his too influential popularity, so
darkly misrepresented his hfe, manners, and
recitations, that he was induced for a moment
to defend himself in a court of justice. It ap
pears, too, from bis own correspondence, that
one of the ablest lawyers in Rome was desirous
to undertake his cause, from the eclat he was
aware it would bestow on him.
" Imagine," (says Salvator upon this occasion,
to his friend Ricciardi,) " Imagine the condition
of your friend, ' of him who is ah spirit, life,
and f re /' Still, however, I ought to wear the
mask of contempt and patience. I should re
member that their fires are of straw, and mine
of asbestos*." * Letters of Salvator Rosa.

OF SALVATOR ROSA, 127
The continued irritation of Salvator's feel
ings at this epoch is best painted by his own
words. In less than a month after the date of
the above quoted letter, he observes to Ricci
ardi, " I have nothing of interest to commu
nicate to you, if I do not tell you that peace is,
I believe, for ever banished from my mind, in
consequence of those same blessed satires,
(which ere I had written, I wish I had broken
my neck.) In fine, every thing now concurs to
render me wretched, even in defiance of all
the prudence and all the virtue in the world.
Two of my enemies, however, have relaxed
something of their persecutions, on hearing my
last satire." (L'Jnvidia.) While he thus, in the
secret confidence of friendship, exhibited ah
the weakness of an irritable sensibility and
wounded self-love, in ah external appearances he
" bated not a jot of hope and spirit," but said
pubhcly, that " instead of decrying his satires,
the bells of Rome should ring out a peal to
collect the people to come and listen to them :"

128 LIFE AND TIMES
and he addressed a humorous expostulatory
remonstrance to his hterary censors, which,
though not printed, is still said to be extant
in manuscript.
It appears that his " Invidia," by its power
ful strain of invective and intrinsic poetical
merits, stunned for a moment the audacity of
his enemies, and increased the number of his
admirers ; and the tremulously nervous Sal
vator, flushed by the consciousness of his tri
umphs, resumed much of his natural cheeriness,
and high tension of mind and spirit. He now
occasionally amused himself with his favourite
histrionic pursuits, and struck out a new road to
fame, which, had he never pursued any other,
would have procured him the reputation of one
of the first artists of his age. In November
1660, he thus writes to Ricciardi : " For some
weeks back I have been amusing myself by
etching in aqua fortis : in good time you shall
see the results. It has not been my good for
tune to produce these works (as I had hoped)

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 129
in the sohtudes of Strozzavolpe,* but I have
still reserved some subjects to execute there,
when the dove shall have found its resting place.'' 'f
That event so long and so ardently desired by
Salvator, the visit to Tuscany, and the repose of
his fluttered spirits in the calms of its lovely
scenery, at last arrived. The marriage of the
heir apparent of Tuscany (afterwards Cosmo
III.) with the beautiful and unfortunate
Marguerite d 'Orleans, was celebrated in 1661
in Florence, with a magnificence which the
ostentatious Medici were always too happy to
find occasions of exhibiting. Salvator Rosa
was not only urged by his friends the Maffei,
Ricciardi, and Minucci, to avail himself of this
gay and festive event for visiting Florence,
and reheving his harassed and overwrought
mind by temporary recreations, but more than
one of the Medici princes gave him a special
invitation to partake of the royal and nuptial
* The villa of the Ricciardi family.
t See letters at the end of this Volume.
VOL. IL K

130 LIFE AND TIMES
festivities. Salvator had the farther induce
ment of being accompanied in his journey by
his intimate friend the Abate Cesti, the com
poser, who had been engaged by the Grand
Duke Ferdinand to get up an opera for the
court theatre, suitable to the occasion. A
crowd of hospitable friends canvassed the plea
sure of having Salvator and his family for their
guests ; for he came accompanied by Lucrezia
and his httle son Augustus, or as he calls him
Farfanicckio. In Florence it appears that he
took up his residence with his old friend Paolo
Minucci, the commentator of the Malmantile ;
and in the country he enjoyed the eulogized
shades of Strozzavolpe, the villa of the Ric
ciardi. It was on the occasion of this visit,
that Salvator had the honour of knowing the
Archduke Ferdinand of Austria, and his ac
complished duchess, (a true Medici,) who had
left their elegant httle court of Inspruck, (the
Weimar of that age,) to assist at the nuptials
of their nephew.
The Archduchess, whose pride it was to

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 131
collect around her the most distinguished men
of the day, who carried off Lorenzo Lippi to
delight her hterary circle with the recitation
of his " Malmantile," and to decorate the walls
of the gahery at Inspruck with his pictures,
now, with a " vaulting ambition" that had
higher quarry in view, commissioned Cesti to
feel the pulse of Salvator Rosa relative to a
visit to Inspruck. The bard, poet, painter, and
actor, would have been a special prize for a
Grande Dame de par le monde, and the terms
offered to induce him to accept so gracious an
invitation, repeated de vive voir both by the
Archduke and Duchess, were enough to have
tempted even the most disinterested, or to have
flattered the most vain-glorious. But Salvator
peremptorily, though respectfully, declined an
honour which, with ah its distinctions, was still
in his eyes dependence* ; and so httle did this
royal invitation touch him, that, though his
* " Non voile impegnarsi piu dopo che disempegnatosi
fu dal Principe di Toscana al servizio di nessun altro ;
k 2

132 LIFE AND TIMES
letters on his return to Rome abound in allu
sions to his " divine Strozzavolpe," he never
once hints at the honours which awaited him in
the gilded saloons of the Imperial Court of In
spruck*. It appears that at the very moment
he dechned becoming a member of a royal
coterie, his proneness to study nature led him
tutto che piu volte ne fosse stato da diverse persone ri-
chiesto, e spezialemente del A. D. Ferdinando. Soleva
percio dire, che stimava piu la sua liberta, che tutti gli
onori e tutto l'oro del mondo, perche non ha prezzo."
Pascoli. — " When once liberated from the service of the
Arch-duke, he never would engage himself again, though
often invited by many persons of distinction, especially the
Arch-duke Ferdinand. He was wont to say, that he
valued his liberty above all the honours and riches in the
world, as being beyond all price."
* " II aimait tant sa liberte," (says a writer the least
favourable to Salvator, in speaking of this invitation,)
" qu'il refusa d'entrer au service d'aucun Prince ; quoi-
qu'on Ten eut souvent presse, entr'autres Don Ferdinand
d'Autriche quand il vint a Florence pour les noces du
Grand Due avec Marguerite d'Orleans." — Abrege de la
Vie des plus f am eux Peintres, Src.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 133
frequently to associate with one of the hum
blest of her children, and this philosophical dis
position became the cause of an influential event
on his future life. There dwelt in the service
of Paolo Minucci, a domestic holding a place
between that of a house-steward and a chef-de-
cuisine, for he equally regulated the accounts,
and superintended the cookery of the learn
ed and reverend commentator's estabhshment.
"He was," says Baldinucci, " a fellow of a coarse
humour (di grossa pasta e rozzo legname," )
mingling with a sort of half-witted buffoonery
much native shrewdness and sagacity. Al
lowed to say whatever he pleased, and always
pleasing to say something worth hearing, he
appears to have been the very type of those
misnamed fools, who were frequently the only
wise persons in the courts and great houses
in which they were retained for the amusement
of the masters.
Salvator Rosa, struck by the humour of this
kitchen Democritus, on whom he had bestowed
the name of " // Filosofo Negro," " the

134 LIFE AND TIMES
grimy Philosopher," was wont occasionaUy to
hold with him " a keen encounter of the wits."
It happened one day that, as he sat carelessly on
the edge of a marble table chatting with this
Filosofo Negro, who stood before him, the con
versation took a turn which enabled the cook to
mutter many sly attacks upon the notorious ex
travagance, in pecuniary matters, of the prodi
gal painter. Salvator in vain endeavoured to
parry the blow, by a defence of his contempt of
wealth on philosophical principles, and laugh
ingly concluded his argument by observing,
" One thing is certain, // mio Filosofo Negro,
that in the hour I have fooled away with you
I might have earned an hundred scudi."
" Da verol" exclaimed the cook, opening his
eyes, " Eh ben, Signor padrone mio, siete
dunque un gran goffo ! — In truth ! Then verily,
master o' mine, thou art an arrant blockhead
for thy pains!" Then throwing himself into
an oratorical posture, he continued, " Now
what is ah this talk about philosophy, and inde-

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 135
pendence, and the like, come to? Suppose
your philosophership lost your voice by a cold,
your hand by an accident, or your leg by a
fall, Signor Dio! what then becomes of this
same philosophy? where then would be our
famous Signor Rosa ! Signor Rosa the Improv-
visatore ! Signor Rosa the marvellous painter !
Signor Rosa the poet and actor ! ! No, marry,
it would then be Signor Rosa the cripple, Signor
Rosa the pauper, Signor Rosa the mendicant.
Santa Madre ! I see him now standing at the
porch of one of our holy churches, with his
staff and his poor-box (bossolo) stunning the
good devotees as they pass, with ' Carita,
Signori Cristian imiei !' Philosophy, in sooth !
I never yet could see the beauty of that philo
sophy which leads to the staff and the poor-
box." The cook, having thus rounded his period,
wiped his greasy face and went about his
business. But when Minucci returned to
his house after some hours' absence, he found

136 LIFE AND TIMES
Salvator, with crossed arms and danghng
legs, seated pensively on the marble slab
where he had left him on going abroad. Mi
nucci, accustomed to his fitful abstractions, sat
down beside him, and accidentally turned the
conversation to the arts, and the general ex
travagance of artists, whose money went more
hghtly than it came. Salvator agreed with
him, and declared emphatically his own inten
tion of beginning the most rigorous reform in his
expenditure, until, growing warm as he spoke,
he concluded by sketching a plan of hfe for his
future conduct, which was that of the most
penurious miser, " in order," he said, " that he
might provide against the accidents qf age, in
firmity, and the world's neglect." Minucci,
struck by the suddenness of this extraordinary
change, and the vehemence with which it was
announced, began to argue on the danger and
folly of extremes in ah things ; when Salvator,
impatiently springing from the table, exclaimed,
" What ! do you then desire to see me reduced
to beggary? and to behold me standing at a

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 137
church porch with a staff and a box, and Carita,
Signori Crist iani miei?" Minucci thought he
was mad; but on inquiry he discovered that
his half-witted cook had done more by an
image than ah the learned and sage friends of
Salvator had been able to effect by reiterated
counsels of economical reform. The graphic
reasoning of the grimy philosopher had its
effect to a certain degree, and Salvator now
first began to accumulate and economize; yet
he was so far from acting up to the standard of
reformation he had at first proposed, that when
Ricciardi and Lippi both chided him some time
after for some new act of unwarrantable gene
rosity, he petulantly replied to their remon
strances, " Voi volete dunque farmi avido di
denaro, ed io vi dico, che fo, e faro tutto quelto
eti io posso per distruggere in me medesimo
ogni primiero moto di desiderio ch' io posso che
me ne venga." — " You wish me then to become
sordidly fond of money ; but I must take leave
to tell you that I, on the contrary, shall do
every thing in my power to eradicate whatever

138 LIFE AND TIMES
tendency I may have, or that may arise in me,
towards that habit."
During this much-enjoyed visit to Florence,
no profit or persuasion could induce him to
apply himself to his profession : in answer to ah
requests, he rephed, " he had come to enjoy,
and not to work;" and though he accepted
orders from the Martelli family, the young
Prince Cosmo (afterwards Grand Duke), and
others, for pictures to be painted on his return
to Rome, he would enter into no engagement
which could disturb the calm, or interrupt the
recreations, of the passing moment.
But absolute idleness was impossible to his
active and restless nature, and fertile and bril
liant imagination ; and while conversing in the
hterary circles of Florence, or lounging in the
dehcious shades of Strozzavolpe, he was always
seen busily occupied with his graver, sketching
or scratching on copper some of those spirited
and graceful engravings in aqua-fortis, which are
now deemed no less powerful proofs of his genius,

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 139
than his beautiful landscapes or noble figure-
pieces.* " Perceiving that all he did, succeeded,
he continued to occupy himself with this new

* One of these etchings, which now lies before me, is
curious as being a sort of allegorical portrait, or moral
delineation, of Salvator himself. It is known to collectors
by the name of the " Genius of Salvator Rosa.'' The
scene represents a wooded spot, with a fragment of fine
architectural ruin, shaded by cypress trees, before which
stands the dignified figure of a philosopher habited in
the Roman toga, and holding in his hand the old Roman
balance. Near him stands a satyr, with an arch and de
moniac look, holding a roll of paper in his hand, which
he points to the balance. At the feet of both, reclines a
figure, who carelessly rejects the treasures which wealth
pours before it from out her cornucopia, while a dead
dove lies on its bosom, and its eyes are turned on a fine
representation of liberty, who presents her cap. Painting
appears in the back-ground, leaning on an entablature
sketched with a human form ; underneath, Salvator has
engraved the following distich :
Ingenuus, liber, Pictor, succensor et sequus,
Spretor opum, mortisque, hie meus est genius.

140 LIFE AND TIMES
pursuit, and now produced several fine etchings,
some on flying sheets (fogli volanti), and of a
large size, others he did not finish till his return
to Rome." "It were unnecessary," adds Passeri,
" to describe the conceits and fancies which he
executed on paper, because they are now ah in
general circulation, and every one may judge
for himself; but I must needs say, that in
these, as in ah his other works, he exhibited
the lustre of his fine genius, the hardihood of
his spirited conceptions, and the decision of his
bold hand, displaying great originality in his
ideas, great wildness in his figures and their
draperies, and a free and resolute touch in the
leafing of his trees, so that altogether these
works are well worthy the admiration of the
best judges."
While Salvator continued to refuse all ap
plications for his pictures, he was accidentally
taken in to paint what he so rarely condescend
ed to do — a portrait.
There hved in Florence, a good old dame of

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 141
the name of Anna Gaetano, who, though of
some celebrity, held no more notable a rank
than that of keeping an osteria or inn, over
the door of which were inscribed in large
letters, " Al buono vino non bisogna fruscia"
" good wine needs no bush," (or hteraUy, good
wine wants no rubbing up or puffing) ; but it
was not the racy Orvietto alone of Madonna
Anna that drew to her house some of the most
distinguished men of Florence, and made it
particularly the resort of the Cavaheri Oltra-
montani: — her humour was as racy as her
wine ; and many of the men of wit and pleasure
upon town were in the habit of lounging in the
Sala Commune of Dame Gaetano, merely for
the pleasure of drawing her out. Among these
were Lorenzo Lippi and Salvator Rosa; and
though this Tuscan Dame Quickly was in
her seventieth year, hideously ugly, and gro
tesquely dressed, she was yet so far from deem
ing herself an " antidote to the tender passion,"
that she distinguished Salvator Rosa by a pre-

142 LIFE AND TIMES
ference which deemed itself not altogether
hopeless of return. While emboldened by his
familiarity and condescension, she had the
vanity to solicit him to paint her picture, " that
she might," she said, " reach posterity by the
hand of the greatest master of the age." Sal
vator at first received her proposition as a jest,
for he rarely condescended to paint portraits,
except his caricato sketches may be called
such ; but, perpetually teased by her reiterated
importunities, and provoked by her pertinacity,
he at last exclaimed —
"Orsu, Madonna, io ho deliberato da ser-
virvi in quanto desiderate di me ; con questo
patto, per non distrarre la mia mente del
lavoro, voi state qui,' a sedere senza punto
muovere da luogo, fin tanto ch' io abbia finita
1' opera mia, e se voi lascierete di eio fare,
lasciero io di dipingere.
" Well, Madonna, I have resolved to comply
with your desire ; but with this agreement,
that, not to distract my mind during my work,

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 143
I desire you will not move from your seat until
I have finished the picture."
Madonna, willing to submit to any penalty in
order to obtain an honour which was to immor
talize her sexagenary charms, joyfully agreed
to the proposition ; and Salvator sending for an
easel and painting materials, drew her as she
sat before him, to the . life. The portrait was
dashed off with the usual rapidity and spirit of
the master, and was a chcf-d'ceuvre. But, when
at last the vain and impatient hostess was per
mitted to look upon it, she perceived that to
one of the strongest and most inveterate like
nesses that ever was taken, the painter had
added a long beard ; and that " mine hostess
al buon vino" figured on the canvass as an
ancient male pilgrim — a character admirably
suited to her furrowed face, weatherbeaten
complexion, strong hneaments, and grey hairs.
Her mortified vanity vented itself in the most
violent abuse of the ungallant painter, of whom
her sex had ordinarily so httle to complain ;

144 LIFE AND TIMES
and she is described as deahng out her Tuscan
Billingsgate, with a purity that would have
excited the envy of the most consummate
Trecentisto of the Delia Cruscan school. Salva
tor, probably less annoyed by her animosity
than disgusted by her preference, called upon
some of her guests (ultramontane painters and
others) to judge between them. The artists
saw only the merits of the fine painting, the
laughers only looked to the jest ; and the
value affixed to the exquisite portrait, soon re
conciled the vanity of the original, through
her interests. After the death of Madonna
Anna, her portrait was sold by her heirs at an
enormous price, and is said to be still in
existence. The reluctance with which Salvator termi
nated his visit to Florence, and to the beautiful
sohtudes of Strozzavolpe, may be drawn from
the evidence of his letters. From the month
of November 1662, to a short time before his
death, they are all records of his feehngs and

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 145
his regrets, on this ever deeply interesting
event. " It is wholly superfluous," he observes
to Ricciardi, " to remind me of my last year's
residence at Strozzavolpe ; there passes not
a day of my hfe in which my heart fails to
celebrate in solemn commemoration, even the
most trifling incident that occurred there ; and
that, too, not without considerable anguish,
arising from the Contrast of this epoch with my
present position. The minutest particulars are
recalled only to torment me ; and I am perpe
tually chiding Agosto, who, by the by, remem
bers every thing, and who constantly embitters
memory by reviving its impressions : this hap
pens to be the case more particularly in this
precise month, which was last year so pregnant
with enjoyment."
In April 1662, and not long after his return
to Rome, his love of wild and mountainous
scenery, and perhaps his wandering tenden
cies revived by his recent journey, induced
him to visit Loretto, or at least to make that
VOL. II. L

146 LIFE AND TIMES
holy city the shrine of a pilgrimage, which it
appears was one rather of taste than of de
votion. His reference to this journey is curious, as
being iUustrative of those high imaginations,
and lofty and lonely feehngs, in which lay ah
the secret of his pecuhar genius: while his
pantings after solitude, his vain repinings, ex
hibit the struggles of a mind divided between a
natural love of repose, and a factitious ambition
for the world's notice, and the eclat of fame —
no unusual contrast in those who, being highly
gifted and highly organized, are placed by
nature above their species in ah the splendid
endowments of intellect ; and who are, by
the same nature, again drawn down to its
level through their social and sympathetic
affections. In taking the route from Rome to Loretto,
which is tracked through the wildest and
steepest branch of the Apennines, in exploring

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 147
the stupendous elevations of the Col-fiorito,
in wandering among the sterile deserts of Sera-
valle, the rocks and precipices of Valcimara*,
the imagination of Salvator seems to have found
its own region ; and he observes to Ricciardi,
" Your Verucolo, which I once thought such
a dreary desert, I shah now look upon as a
fair garden, comparing it with the scenes I
have visited in these Alpine sohtudes ! Oh
* In the splendid collection of pictures at Rusborough
(County of Wicklow) the seat of the Earl of Miltown, are
two fine landscapes by Salvator Rosa, one of which is
stamped with all the characteristic features of the scenery
of Seravalle, and may have been executed after his return
from Loretto. This princely edifice, and Lyons the seat
of Lord Cloncurry, are perhaps the mansions in Ireland
which exhibit in the highest degree that taste for the
fine arts, and that liberality of spirit, which is so much
wanting in a country, from whence all that is civiliz
ing and refined has been long banished by faction and
misrule. l 2

148 LIFE AND TIMES
God! how often have I sighed to possess— how
often since called to mind, those solitary her
mitages which I passed on the road— how often
wished that fortune had reserved for me such
a destiny* !"
On returning to Rome from a tour so prolific
in enjoyment, he however did not the less re
sume his ordinary habits of hfe, but opened his
house as usual to the learned and the great ;
and apphed himself with invigorated spirit to
his professional duties, (for which his long lei
sure seemed to have given him a new zest), and
to his hterary pursuits, which he always cul
tivated with zeal. " In both," says Passeri,
" he now acquired immortal fame ; honoured by
princes, and eulogized by the first hterati, who
came in crowds to visit him, and to enjoy his
gracious conversation ; and he who would
* Letters of S. Rosa.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 149
relate all the subtilties of his arguments, the
promptitude of his repartees, and the witty
gahantries, which he daily uttered in the circle
of his intimate friends, would fill a thick vo
lume."

150 LIFE AND TIMES

CHAPTER X.
Salvator executes three great pictures for the exhibition
of San Giovanni, on his return to Rome in the year 1663
— He exhibits his Catiline Conspiracy in the Pantheon
— Its composition, and success — His depression of
spirits and disgust with his art — Exhibition in the Pan
theon 1664 — His Saul and the Witch of Endor — Con
tinued persecutions of his enemies — Obtains the dis
tinction of painting an altar-piece at Rome, his first
and last — Its subject — Anecdotes — His projects for
the Porta Flaminia — Friendship of Carlo Rossi — His
chapel in the Chiesa di Santa Maria del Santo Monte —
Decline of Salvator's health and spirits — His letter to
Ricciardi on the subject — Undertakes a series of cari
catures at the request of his friends — Is unable to
finish them — His decline — Opinion of his physicians —
Is given over— His singular conduct — The last day of
his life — His funeral in the Chiesa di Santa Maria degli
Angioli alle Terme — His tomb and epitaph.
While Salvator sighed, or fancied he sigh
ed, for an hermitage among the savage chffs of

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 151
SeravaUe, his insatiable ambition for glory, and
his want of those strong excitements which in
crease of fame ever brings with it, when " ap
petite still grows with what it feeds on" urged
him to fresh exertions in his art, and again ex
posed him to fresh attacks from the envy and
intrigues of professional rivalry.
In the spring of 1662 he exhibited three fine
pictures in the Pantheon, on the feast of Saint
John, whose subjects were (as he observes to
Ricciardi) " fresh and untouched."
The first was " Pythagoras on the Sea-shore,"
paying some fishermen for the permission to
emancipate the fish they had just caught ; " a
fact," observes Salvator, "which I have taken
from Plutarch."
The second represented the same phflosopher
issuing from a subterranean cavern to his dis
ciples of both sexes, and relating to them his
visit to the infernal regions, and his interview
with Hesiod.
The third was " Jeremiah thrown into a

152 LIFE AND TIMES
pit" by the Princes of Judea, for having pro
phesied the downfaU of Jerusalem.
These pictures met with that success from
the pubhc which, at this time, attended aU his
works ; and they were attacked by professional
and party criticism with that virulence which
was levelled at every thing produced by the au
thor of " La Fortuna" and " La BabUonia."
To the critical jargon of his enemies he rephed
by one of the most splendid of his productions,
his bold, spirited, and magnificent "Jason;" and
the paltry animadversions of peevish and jea
lous mediocrity were for a time sUenced. It
was reserved, however, for the exhibition of the
year 1663, to be distinguished by the exposi
tion of the master-work of his life and genius, —
the work which he himself has stamped with
superiority over ah his other pictures, by giving
it the title of " mio quadro grande!" — " my
great picture !"
This great picture was his " Catiline Con
spiracy." His own modest and simple account

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 153
of it, given in an hurried manner to his friend
Ricciardi, is as foUows : —
" I have exhibited at the Festa di San Gio
vanni Decollato, this year, my great picture !
It consists of a group literaUy taken from the
text of SaUust's history of the Catihne Con
spiracy. It has had the most extraordinary
success with aU the true judges ; I teU you
this, because we ought to share our triumphs
with a friend, and, above aU, such a friend as
you have ever been to me*."
The scene of this noble picture is an apart
ment in Catiline's palace. The light, which
faUs from above, is reflected from the marble
waUs, and most skilfully illuminates the heads
of the splendid group in the foreground;
leaving the lower part of the picture in deep
and effective shadow. A beautiful antique
tripod occupies the centre, and serves as an
altar for the celebration of a fearful ceremony.
* Letters of S. Rosa.

154 LIFE AND TIMES
The moment taken by the painter in the story
of Catihne, is that so terrible and imposing,
when, having detailed, with aU the magic elo
quence for which he was so noted, his views,
and the nature of his perilous enterprise, he
induces the conspirators to bind themselves to
secrecy, and to the cause, by a solemn oath, con
secrated by the awful ceremony of pledging
each other in wine mingled with human blood*.
The ceremony is just begun. Two persons in
the dress of the Roman nobility stand forward,
each with an arm outstretched and hands
clasped over the tripod, whUe blood drops from
* " There were many people," says Sallust, " in that
time, who said that Catiline, after he had made his
speech and come to the administration of an oath to
the conspirators, carried round a cup of human blood
mingled with wine." Salvator Rosa has taken a much
nobler view of this subject, and made a finer use of the
terrible incident than Ben Jonson, who makes Catiline
order a slave to be killed for the purpose. The conspira
tors of the great English dramatist are all vulgar ruffians.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 155
the arm of one into a beautiful cup, or vase,
held beneath.
In the countenance of him who bleeds, and
whose blood is about to be quaffed, may be
read one lettered and marked out for dupery —
one expressly chosen from the band for this
fearful act, that its awfulness might, by im
pressing his imagination with terror, bind him
to that faith and secrecy he had not the strength
or honour to preserve without such a sanction.
Though of high birth, he was one stained with
crime and obloquy, at once vain and audacious :
incapable of keeping the secrets of others, or
of hiding his own follies. This feeble viUain is
evidently Quintus Curius, who is thus described
by SaUust, and thus painted in every trait and
lineament by Salvator Rosa! the treachery which
proceeds from weakness, is already traceable in
the timid indecision of his looks !
In the weU-defined features of him who clasps
the hand of Curius, lurks more honesty, but
not more firmness of purpose. He appears

156 LIFE AND TIMES
overpowered rather than convinced ; but he
takes the oath, and seems equally divided in
his attention by the awful act in which he is
engaged, and by the stunning eloquence of that
splendid apparition which hovers like an evil
genius near him, and which though seen but
in profile, with upraised arm and pointed finger,
exhibits an almost unearthly superiority over all
who surround it ! This figure is Catiline —
" Whose countenance is a civil war itself,
And all his host have standing in his looks."*
He is evidently winding up the courage of
his dupes to its sticking-place, both by look,
and word, and gesture — while a Roman patri
cian, with a keen concentrated glance, as he
holds the cup under the bleeding arm, reads
the effects of the chiefs eloquence, in the looks
of Curius. Filling up the back-ground to the
left of the picture, are two of the old guard of
Sylla, in full armour. Long broken into civil
* " Catiline" by Ben Jonson.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 157
dissensions, and ready in the weariness of slothful
peace for any active mischief, they are gazing
on the scene before them with looks of admira
tion and vulgar wonder, wondrously expressed.
It is remarkable that over the stern features
and martial figures of these veterans the painter
has shed an air of plebeian grossness, which
singularly and artfuUy contrasts with the high
blood and dignified elegance of the patrician
conspirators ; some of whom fiU up the back
ground to the right. One, however, there is
among them not confounded in their group,
who comes prominently forward, as tm-ning in
disgust or horror from the atrocious ceremony
of seahng an oath by a hbation of human blood !
one too, to whom the shedding of human blood
was yet famUiar, and who probably envious
even then of the influence of Catihne, was al
ready meditating that greater and far more
fatal conspiracy against the hberties of Rome,
which placed the world's diadem at his own
feet. It is Julius Caesar ! — Such is the cold out-

158 LIFE AND TIMES
line of a picture, which forms a page in history,
and is never to be looked on but with powerful
emotion!*

* A fine engraving of the picture, which is here so in
adequately described, lies before me as I write. It is by
the Baron Denon, from whom I have just received it;
and who, in a letter which accompanied the welcome pre
sent, observes on the Catiline of Salvator Rosa. " Dans
ce tableau l'expression de l'inquietude, de l'agitation, du
trouble est telle, qu'elle fait passer toutts les sensations
dans Vdme du spectateur! Quelqu'un dont j'ai oublie le
nom, a dit spirituellement en le regardant, ' que Rome
ne pouvait jamais etre en surete, tant qu'un de ces
hommes la existerait. ' " The following account of this
splendid picture is taken from one of the learned com
mentators of Pdsseri's " Lives of the Painters." " Fa-
mosissimo e il quadro della Congiura di Catilina, posseduto
in Firenze dalla nobilissima casa Martelli, dove le figure
sono al naturale, ma sono mezze, cioe dalla cintura in su ;
Di esso in una lettera, stampata del dotissimo Signore
Conti Magalotti, ce ne e una mirabile descrizione, come
e mirabile il quadro, perche, datagli un occhiata alia
sfuggita, si vede che quelli sono scellerati chi ordiscono

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 159
The "Catihne Conspiracy," in its concep
tion, execution, and success, gave a new spring
to the genius, and brighter 6clat to the fame,
of Salvator Rosa! But the pohtical state of
Europe at that particular epoch, and the san
guinary war into which it was plunged during
the years 1664-65, had a considerable and very
injurious influence on the arts. The difficulty
of conveying pictures from Rome to other con
tinental states, when every road was a military
pass, shut up the market, and for a time left
the first masters in Italy unemployed.
" For my part," says Salvator Rosa, " I
may go and plant my pencil in my garden ;"
but he added, in his usual phflosophic tone,
" all wealth lies in the mind." This mine, how-
qualque congiura o altro capital misfatto ; e volendo che
chi si sia indovinasse la testa di Catilina, tutti daranno
nella medesima, e diranno che non puo esser altra che
quella che accennano, benche tutte siano atroci, e d'assas-
sino ; inoltre il luogo e le tinte usate qui dal Rosa, sono
proprie per un congiura di terribile importanza."

160 LIFE AND TIMES
ever, did not satisfy him, for he observes to
Ricciardi, that " though there was not even a
dog to bespeak a picture, in such times, yet his
engravings and etchings enabled him to keep
his purse from running dry" — upon which, it
appears, his style of living made no small de
mands. It is obvious, however, from his letters, that
the suspension of his pictorial labours, at parti
cular intervals, did not whoUy proceed from the
want of orders, or decline of pubhc favour.
His fine but fatal organization, which ren
dered him so susceptible of impressions, whe
ther of good or evU, and which left him at
times no shelter against " horrible imaginings,"
or against those real inflictions, calumny and
slander, plunged him too frequently into fits
of listless melancholy, when, disabused of ah
Ulusion, he saw the species to which he be
longed in all the nakedness of its inherent in
firmity. " How I hate the sight of every spot that

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 161
is inhabited," he observes to Ricciardi, in
ahusion to his cravings after that solitude
which his condition in life prevented him from
enjoying. It was, indeed, under the influence
of these morbid moods of constitutional sadness,
that his genius, in losing the object of its ex
ertions, lost its powers also ; and he confesses
in his letter dated 1 664, " that the fatigue and
lassitude of painting had become so great, that,
to avoid faUing into an utter disgust with his
art, he was resolved to choose only the most
facUe subjects." And yet this was written one
year after he had painted his Catihne, and
nearly four years previous to the execution of
a work that rivaUed, if it could not surpass, that
chef-d'oeuvre of his pencil — his " Saul and the
Witch of Endor." The excitement which was
necessary to lash him up to this high exertion,
was afforded him by the foUowing incident.
The usual annual exhibition of the feast of
San Giovanni DecoUato was got up in the year
1668, with a splendor hitherto unsurpassed,
VOL. II. M

162 LIFE AND TIMES
and in a manner that excited the profoundest
mortification among the Roman painters of all
classes. The nephews and brother of the recently
elected and reigning pope, Clement X. (Ros-
pighosi), in ah the intoxication of those " new
honours" which " cleave not to their use but
with the aid of time," meddled and interposed,
even with institutions and estabhshments the
least within the sphere of their proper influ
ence and dictation. They chose to extend
their interference, if not their patronage, to
the arts, and to enroU themselves as members
of the Compagnia della festa di San Giovanni
DecoUato. From this illustrious fraternity the
humbler members boded no good ; and Salvator,
in a letter to Ricciardi, thus aUudes to the
circumstance, and to its probable residts. " The
brother of a Pope, with his four sons, have
chosen to enter as novices into the company of
t\ve festa di San Giovanni; and to extinguish ah
hopes of success in the hearts of those who

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 163
may hereafter choose to enter the hsts, they
have actuaUy despoUed the waUs of the gaheries
of Rome of their most superb pictures, and,
above ah, the celebrated coUection of the Queen
of Sweden, (to exhibit on the occasion of the
festa,) which coUection alone might intimi
date the Devil himself! The motive of their
lordships acting in this manner is simply to
exclude from the exhibition the works of all
the living painters of the age ; and this inten
tion on their parts was sufficient to determine
me, on mine, to enter the lists, which, with
infinite difficulty. I have accomphshed ; and I
alone, of aU the living artists, have been per
mitted to compete with the mighty dead. I
swear to you that I never felt so wound up to
any enterprise before ; but as so fine an op
portunity of distinction may never again occur,
I lay aside every consideration to start for the
aU which fame may yet have in reserve for me."
* Letters of S. Rosa.
M 2

164 LIFE AND TIMES
When this high honour was accorded to
Salvator, probably more under the influence of
pubhc opinion, than from any partiahty to the
author of the Satires, Claude Lorraine and
the Poussins were stUl hving, and in Rome ;
and Carlo Maratti, and Pietro da Cortona,
were each at the head of their crowded and
fashionable schools. The distinction, there
fore, accorded to Salvator Rosa, bears out
Lanzi in his observation that Salvator Rosa
was the painter most in fashion from the
close of the seventeenth to the early part
of the eighteenth century. The two pictures
which he exhibited on this trying occasion,
and which stood competition with the works
of Da Vinci and Raphael, of the Caracci and
Domenichino, were his " Triumph of Saint
George over the Dragon," and his " Saul and
the Witch of Endor." Three eminent geniuses
* " Su i principi di questo secolo il Rosa era il piu ac-
clamato." — Storia.Pittorica, vol.ii. p. 193.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 165
have, at remote epochs, chosen the grand
dramatic story of the king of Israel, as a sub
ject worthy of their high conceptions and con
summate art— Salvator Rosa, Alfieri, and Byron.
It is remarkable that the first and last should
have selected precisely the same poetical incident
in the life of Saul ; and that the picture of one
might serve as an iUustration of the poem of
the other : with this difference, that the
graphic power of the Italian painter aU cen
tres in her whose " spell could raise the dead,"
and in him who hearkens to that fearful pro
phecy — " Crownless, breathless, headless fall,
Son and sire, the house of Saul :"
whUe the descriptive powers of the Enghsh poet,
stUl more imaginative and ideal, are principally
directed to that " Phantom Seer," who
" Stood the centre of a cloud !"
The grouping is the same in both ; and both
are of those high-wrought and splendid con
ceptions, which Mediocrity never " dreams

166 LIFE AND TIMES
of in her own philosophy," and scarcely under
stands whUe she affects to admire it in others.
The Saul of Salvator Rosa shared the triumph of
his Regulus and his Catihne ; and his reputa
tion as a painter, hke his hfe, had now reached
its solstice : — to move was to descend *
Still, however, " the something unpossessed "
was coveted in the midst of aU the triumph
won by merit over calumny ; and whUe ah
Europe had become his gaUery, he pined in
thought over the deep but imaginary mortifica
tion of being still excluded from aU the pubhc
* " Samuel et Saul, etla grande Bataille, sont toujours
ici (h Paris). Celui de Samuel est une des belles produc
tions de ce maitre (S. Rosa), parceque le sujet sombre
et mysterieux a rencontre le genie de l'artiste : il est h
remarquer qu'une teinte sombre caracterise toutes les
productions de cet homme, qui a ete, tout a la fois,
peintre, poete satirique, et comedien bouffon."
Extract of a letter from the Baron Denon to the author
of the " Life and Times of Salvator Rosa," on her
asking him if the " Saul " of Salvator Rosa was still
in the Musee Royal of Paris.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 167
works in Rome— that city, whose suffrages he
over-rated, as persons wiU overrate the good
opinion of those among whom they dweU, and
with whose passions, habits, and interests, their
own are in daUy contact.
Names now only preserved in the chrono
logical hsts of pictorial history, were then
affixed to the great altar-pieces of the noblest
churches in Rome ; and the mediocre Roma-
nelli, under the special patronage of Bernini,
(who took him up in opposition to Pietro da
Cortona, as he had once favoured Cortona out
of malice to Sacchi,) was painting for Saint
Peter's at Rome, and for the Duomo at Vi-
terbo, while Salvator could not obtain the
painting of those subordinate parts assigned
to the pupUs of any of the great masters of
the day.
The speU, however, cast over the hopes
and ambition of persecuted genius by party
spirit and academic intrigues, was at last
broken ; and the joy he felt at being permitted

168 LIFE AND TIMES
to give " un quadro perrnanente al pubblico," a
permanent picture to the Roman public, is
frankly expressed with a sort of childish
triumph, in one of his letters to the Abate
Ricciardi. " Sonate le campane! — Ring out the chimes !
— At last, after thirty years existence in
Rome, of hopes blasted, and complaints re
iterated against men and gods, the occasion
is accorded me for giving one altar-piece to the
pubhc. The Signor Filippo Nerli, the Pope's
Depositario, resolved upon vanquishing the ob
stinacy of my destiny, has endowed a chapel in
the church of San Giovanni de' Fiorentini ;
and in despite of the stars themselves, has
determined that I shaU paint the altar-piece.
It is five months since I began it, and I had
only laid it aside with the intention of taking
it up after Lent, when the occurrence of the
festa, which the Florentines are obhged to
celebrate here in this church, on the canon
ization of the Santa Maddelina de Pazzi, has

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 169
forced me to continue to work at it, and to
shut myself up in my house, where, for this
month and half, I have been suffering agonies
lest I should not have my picture finished in
time for their festival. This occupation has
kept me not only secluded from ' all commerce
of the pen, but from every other in the world ;
and I can truly say that I have forgotten my
self, even to neglecting to eat ; and so arduous
is my apphcation, that when I had nearly
finished, I was obhged to keep my bed for two
days ; and had not my recovery been assisted
by emetics, certain it is it would have been aU
over with me, in consequence of some obstruc
tion in the stomach. Pity me then, dear friend,
if for the glory of my pencil, I have neglected
to devote my pen to the service of friendship."
This is a most animated picture of genius
excited by encouragement and the love of
fame, even beyond the consideration of all
personal wants and enjoyments ; of the frail
physical force giving way under the exertions

170 LIFE AND TIMES
of inteUectual energy, and of the mind surviv
ing all the subordinate agents and corporal
faculties, which were to assist in realizing its
powerful combinations !
Salvator, stretched on his couch, within
sight of his unfinished altar-piece — almost
reduced to death by his efforts to procure im
mortality — at a moment, too, when that great
meed was already weU won, — is an image
to which all young artists, aU aspiring ge
niuses, should turn their mind's eye ; as the
zealous in faith gaze devoutly on the pictured
martyrs, whose glory has been the purchase of
their sufferings and their sacrifices.
If the painting of this great altar-piece gave
Salvator such joy, and caused him such deep
anxiety and arduous occupation, it may weU be
supposed that the moment of its exposition
was one of no faint interest to the sanguine
painter. The day when any great work was
exposed for the first time to the pubhc, was
always, in Italy, what the first night of a new

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 171
tragedy once was in Paris — every body was
prepared to criticise and to decide, to blame
or to praise ! Salvator, always acting out of
ordinary calculation, exhibited on this occasion
considerable sang-froid. While the chapel of
the Nerli, in the Chiesa de' Fiorentini, was
crowded with spectators, aU pressing forward
to see the " Martyrdom of Saint Cosmus and
Saint Damian," the first altar-piece ever ex
hibited in Rome by " // Signor e Salvatore,"
the Signor Salvator himself was taking his
wonted evening's lounge on the Monte Pincio,
arm in arm with his dear friend Carlo Rossi.
The graphic description of Passeri's interview
with him on that day, as given by the quaint
and reverend painter himself, is well worth
citing : — " He (Salvator) had at last exposed
his picture in the San Giovanni de1 Fiorentini;
and I, to recreate myself, ascended on that
evening to the heights of the Monte della
Trinita, where I found Salvator walking arm
in arm with Signor Giovanni Carlo dei Rossi,

172 LIFE AND TIMES
so celebrated for his performance on the harp of
three strings (tre registri), and brother to that
Luigi Rossi, who is so eminent aU over the
world for his perfection in musical composition.
And when Salvator (who was my intimate
friend) perceived me, he came forward laugh
ingly, and said to me these precise words : —
' WeU, what say the malignants now ? are they
at last convinced that I can paint on the great
scale ? Why, if not, then e'en let Michael An-
gelo come down and do something better. Now
at least I have stopt their mouths, and shewn
the world what I am worth.' I shrugged my
shoulders. I and the Signor Rossi changed the
subject to one which lasted us tUl night-faU;
and from this (continues Passeri in his ram
bling way) it may be gathered how gagliardo he
(Salvator) was in his own opinion. Yet it may
not be denied but that he had aU the endow
ments of a marvehous great painter ! one of
great resources and high perfection ; and had
he no other merit, he had at least that of being

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 173
the originater of his own style. He spoke, this
evening, of Paul Veronese more than of any
other painter, and loved the Venetian school
greatly. To Raphael he had no great leaning,
for it was the fashion of the Neapohtan school
to caU him hard, ' di pietra,' dry, &c."
The subject chosen by Salvator for his first
and last altar-piece in Rome, was in perfect
harmony with his own dark bold style. Saint
Damian and Saint Cosmus were the victims of
the cruel intolerance of Lysias, the Roman Pro
consul of the city of Egea; they were by him
condemned to be burnt ahve, with as httle
humanity as the successors of the saints ever
displayed when in their turn they condemned
aU who refused their doctrine to the flames of
an auto da fe. Salvator chose that moment
when the brother saints were stretched upon a
pUe of burning wood, the flames of which, in
stead of consuming their bodies, spread forth
on every side, and pursued the ministers of in
tolerance who were assembled to enjoy the tor-

174 LIFE AND TIMES
tures of the martyrs. It is in the amazement
and terror expressed in the countenances of the
objects of this miracle, and the variety of the
attitudes into which they are thrown, that all
the characteristic force of Salvator's genius is
particularly displayed. " Chi vuol ricercare in
questo quadro un esattezza di disegno, io non
saprei che mi dire se non ce la trova," (says
Passeri, speaking of this performance in ah the
freshness of immediate observation) " dico bene
che e di mano di Salvatore Rosa!" " Whoever
looks in this picture for precision in the drawing,
I know not what to say if he does not find it
there ; but I can say that it is by the hand of
Salvator Rosa !" The opinion of the Marchese
Nerh was more decidedly given in the form of
a crimson velvet purse filled with gold, and
presented gaUantly to Salvator Rosa on a sUver
guantiera, or glove-etui, a curious trait of the
manners of the times; when gloves were so
rich and ornamented, as to be laid by in such
caskets as were then, and now are appropriated

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 175
to jewels. But gloves then were pitted against
ladies' hearts, and, bauble for bauble, were per
haps weU worth the trinket they purchased.
When Salvator counted out the thousand scudi
which the velvet purse contained, he declared
frankly, that the hberahty of the Marchese was
as much beyond the value of the picture as it was
beyond the expectation of the painter ; and he
instantly sent back an hundred doubloons. The
Marchese, however, would not accept the money,
and wrote to Salvator, " that in this contest
he was resolved on remaining il Vincitore ! Sal
vator yielded; but at the expiration of a few
days he sent his generous friend one of his
finest landscapes for his gallery, " which," (says
the relater of the anecdote) " was weU worth
the hundred doubloons he had obhged him to
accept." But neither the approbation of the
liberal Nerh, nor the applauses of Salvator's
partisans*, could conceal from him that his
*' The partisans of Salvator seem to have been no less

176 LIFE AND TIMES
altar-piece was undergoing the severest criticism
from the partial and the prejudiced; and in
spite of aU his gay and jocular vaunts on the
evening of its exposition, Passeri confesses
" that he was by no means satisfied with its
success." His mind, however, was drawn off
from its brooding disappointment, by the zea
lous and never slumbering friendship of Carlo
Rossi, who was resolved to follow the example
of the Marchese Nerh, and to purchase and
endow a chapel, for the purpose of assigning
the altar-piece to the pencU of Rosa.
Salvator, who spoke out upon aU subjects
with an hardiness that belonged to a better
age, had frequently declaimed against the actual
state of Rome in his time ; and he used to
place in satirical contrast its sumptuous palaces,
with its close, narrow, and unventilated lanes

violent than his enemies upon this occasion : they were,
says Passeri, quite uproarious with their deafening accla
mations — " Strepiiassero con ischiamazzi orrendi."

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 177
and streets, and with what he caUed those
" mal-ordinate casaccie," in which the inferior
classes of its population were crammed; but,
above aU, he was wont to exclaim against the
state of the principal entrance of a city which
had been the " world's great mistress," and was
stiU the temple of the arts. The Porta Fla-
minia (now the Porta del Popolo), through
which aU Europe poured the most distin
guished of her sons, was then the entrance to
a labyrinth of dark and filthy passages, ob
structed by ruinous and tottering edifices — the
wretched asylum of pauperism and vice. Sal
vator, in the hearing of Baldinucci and others,
frequently proposed, as an undertaking worthy
of the Government, the clearing away of these
infected buddings, and the opening a noble
space at the entrance of the city, to be deco
rated by two pubhc edifices for the reception of
strangers — an accommodation then particularly
wanting in Rome, where traveUers were wont
to pass days in the streets, in houseless discom-
VOL. II. n

178 LIFE AND TIMES
fort, vainly seeking for lodgings, -the inns being
few and miserable. But, whUe fabrics of osten
tatious splendour were then rising on every
side in Rome, works of utility were stiU neg
lected; and the noxious passages and ruinous
buildings which choked the Porta Flaminia,
might stiU have remained in all their original
deformity, but that the threatened visit of
that royal Berghre derangSe, the Queen
Christina of Sweden to Pope Alexander VII,
set Bernini to work to clear a passage for her
entrance : and the now beautiful Piazza del
Popolo was the result of the courtly artist's
desire to render the pathway of royalty worthy
of so illustrious a pUgrimage. In place, how
ever, of the much-wanted pubhc hotels or inns
proposed by Salvator Rosa, two churches were
rapidly buUt, which were not wanted at aU.
These were the elegant little temples which
rise on either side the ingress to the Corso —
the Chiesa di S. Maria de' Miracoli, and the
Chiesa di S. Maria del Monte Santo. They were

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 179
buUt in 1662, and do infinite honour to
the memory of their architect, the Cavaliere
Rainaldi. Carlo Rossi was the first to purchase a chapel
in one of these pretty churches, then an object
of emulation among the wealthy Itahans, as
the purchase of an opera-box is now among
the wealthy Enghsh. But friendship appears
to have had at least as much to do as piety in
the acquisition. The Capella dei Rossi, to the
right of the nave in the Chiesa di Santa Maria
del Monte Santo, was scarcely rough cast, when
its owner dedicated it not more to his patron
saint, than to the genius of his admired friend.
Salvator, who felt the full force of this kind
ness, began to make designs for the altar-piece
and lateral departments ; but languor and lassi
tude induced him to defer an undertaking to
which he was desirous of bringing aU those
energies of his genius, which had gone to the
execution of his Saul and his CatUine. It is
melancholy to add, that this epoch never arrived.
N 9.

180 LIFE AND TIMES
The hand of decay had already touched him ;
the spirit had gone out of him ; and whoever
now visits Rome, and may think it worth whUe
to turn into the Chiesa di Santa Maria del Santo
Monte wiU see, in the first chapel on the right,
a monument of that friendship which death
could not dissolve. Four pictures of Salvator
Rosa's, hung up in this httle chapel after his
decease, by the hands of one his earhest and
his last friend, Carlo Rossi, are proofs of that
posthumous tenderness which stiU devoted the
sacred spot to its original destiny, and mingled
the purest of aU human affections with the
holiest of aU human sentiments.*
* Since the above was written, I have it on the autho
rity of Signor Camucini (through the kindness of her
Grace the Duchess of Devonshire), that these pictures are
now transferred to the gallery of his Royal Highness
Prince Leopold of Naples— a transfer nothing short of
sacrilege in the eyes of the pictorial sentimentalist ! The
two largest of these pictures were, in 1819, apparently
much injured by neglect and damp. The subjects were

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 181
The views, the feehngs, the very sensations
of Salvator, were now contracting and fading
fast under the influence of an overwrought
mind, an exhausted brain, and morbid sensi
bility, too frequently and fataUy excited. His
habits changed with his health ; he no longer
sought to extend his sphere of action ; ah his
feehngs were home-directed, gathering fast
round that domestic altar, the last asylum of
affections which the world has failed to meet or
to satisfy. In his letters written at this period,
he frequently speaks of his "fireside," that sole
cism in an Itahan establishment so rarely seen
or understood. He thinks " an half eye" drawn
by Farfinnochio, a subject worth communicat
ing to the grave professor of moral phUosophy

the Passion of Jesus Christ, and the Liberation of the
Prophet Habakkuk by an Angel. In another chapel in
the same church is (or was recently) an Holy Family by
Salvator's contemporary, Carlo Maratti, a fine picture,
but nearly ruined by the humidity of the place.

182 LIFE AND TIMES
of the University of Pisa ; and detaUs aU the
minute shades or tremulous vibrations of his
nervous temperament, with the accuracy of one
who was now wholly devoted to a self-analysis.
The wanderer of the savage Abruzzi, the
dweUer in caves, the prowler of blasted heaths,
who stood the brunt of storms that "scathed
the forest oaks or mountain pines," and trod
with bounding step
" Over many a fiery, many a frozen Alp,''
now shrunk cowering from " the seasons'
changes," shivered if snow whitened the distant
hills of Albano, and languished if the sirocco
blew over the groves of the Quirinal, though
fraught with " native perfume ;"
Whispering whence it stole its balmy spoil.
How much of his original fire was quench
ing, how rapidly those inward energies were
changing, which repel aU external influence of
the elements in the morn and noon of hfe —
was painfuUy exhibited in his eighteenth letter
to Ricciardi, dated so far back as 1666! He

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 183
there complains that " the severity of the year
had aU but destroyed him ;" and adds, " that
in great heats his head became quite distem
pered, in severe cold he was ready to give up
the ghost, and to bid good night to his genius,
with a ' to our merry meeting at the pit of
Acheron ! ' I have suffered two months of
agony," he continues, " even with the abste
mious regimen of chicken broth ! My feet are
two lumps of ice, in spite of the wooUen hose I
have imported from Venice. I never permit
the fire to be quenched in my own room, and am
more solicitous than even the Cavaher Cigoli.*
There is not a fissure in my house that I am
not daUy employed in diligently stopping up; and
yet with aU this I cannot get warm ; nor do I
think the torch of love, or the caresses of aPhryne
* Lodovico Cardi da Cigoli, a celebrated painter of
the sixteenth century, who in spite of every precaution
died of a cold taken while painting in fresco in the Va
tican. The humidity of the plaster is said to have killed
him.

184 LIFE AND TIMES
herself, would kindle me into a glow. For the
rest, I can talk of any thing but my pencil : my
canvass hes turned to the waUs ; my colours are
dried up now and for ever ; — nor can I give
my thoughts to any subject whatever, except
chimney-corners, brasiers, warming-pans, wool
len gloves, wooUen caps, and such sort of gear.
In short, dear friend, I am perfectly aware that
I have lost much of my original ardours, and I
am absolutely reduced to pass entire days with
out speaking a word : those fires, once mine,
and once so brilliant, are now all spent, or
evaporating in smoke. Woe unto me, should
I now be reduced to exercise my pencU for
bread! I should die in the harness. If you
ask me how I pass my time, I answer, — in
winter days, when the weather is serene, I
wander forth hke a maniac, prowhng in ah the
sohtudes of this region ; in bad weather I
shut myself up in my house, walking hke one
possessed ; or in reading, or in hstening, much
more than in talking. Not a single week

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 185
passes that orders do not arrive for pictures,
to such an extent that I am covered with re
proaches from aU quarters ; but I let them cry.
None know where the shoe pinches so weU as
he that wears it."
This curious and interesting letter, which
was written even before he painted his great
picture of Saul, betrays the warning symptoms
of Nature's great break-up, and the powers of
a noble mind, raUying back from the steahng
influence of progressive decay, and triumphing
for a period even over Nature herself, when
worked on by strong vohtion. His picture of
St.Turpin, begun in October 1669, and finished
in the early part of 1670, was probably his last
work of any importance.
He now painted but httle, and no longer
sought for new subjects in nature, animate or
inanimate. His mind was a repertory, in
which his wondrous memory had deposited an
exhaustless store of imagery ; and it is a curious
fact, that early impressions at this period came

186 LIFE AND TIMES
up to the surface of his recoUection with such
strength and freshness, that whatever he pro
duced was a strikingly recognizable portrait of
those scenes in Apugha and the Abruzzi, where
he had loitered with greatest fondness in his
boyhood : " aU, says Baldinucci, was preserved
nella sua tenacissima fantasia." He worked,
however, only at remote intervals, and in the
spring season ; and thus added another name to
the hst of those sensitive chUdren of genius,
whose mental dependence on " seasons and their
changes" has awakened the incredulity, or ex
cited the derision, of one whose own sturdy
and steam-engine inteUect was always to be
thrown into movement, as the exigency of the
moment demanded.*
Surrounded by old friends, the Rossi, Passeri,
Baldinucci, Baldovini, Olivaf, and others of the
* See Dr. Johnson's Life of Milton.
+ The celebrated Padre Gio. Paolo Oliva, general of
the Jesuits.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 187
same standing, and of the same tried and ster
ling worth, Salvator, partly at their request, and
partly to give vent to a " mordacita" of tempe
rament, which experience had rather sharpened
than blunted, began about the latter end of the
year 1671a series of caricature portraits.
This style of painting, then so much in vogue
by the name of Caricata, had been pursued by
Caravaggio, was practised with great success by
Domenichino, and had formed his principal re
creation during his retreat from the persecution
of the Neapohtan cabals in the shades of Frescati.
It had been adopted by Guido *, and it was a
* A Roman tailor was so enraptured with the carica
tures of Caravaggio, that he engaged the young and
unknown Guido Reni to paint him several heads in that
peculiar genre. The obscure artist, the future creator of
the Celestial Aurora, gladly engaged with the patronizing
tailor at seven scudi per head; but his Maecenas of the
needle was so pleased with his productions, that he raised
his price to twelve, and at last to thirty scudi. At the
same moment, the Cardinal Farnese was haggling with

188 LIFE AND TIMES
branch of the art, says Baldinucci, '• for which
he (Salvator) had a most bizarre talent, which
he exercised with great spirit" — " aveva un
bizarrissimafacolth efuper certo spiritoso," &c.
The Caricata was in painting what the broad
comedy of farce is in the drama. It was
nature strongly drawn, its ridicules exaggerated,
and its foibles highly coloured ; but stiU it was
nature : and the Caricata of the seventeenth
century is never to be confounded with those
coarse and hbeUous representations of the hu
man face divine, which humour and malice have
frequently resorted to in modern times for the
manifestation of their powers. Among his collec
tions of Caricati, Salvator had not only pre
served, at their particular requests, the likenesses
of his own friends, with aU their characteristic
peculiarities, but had added also those of many
Guido's immortal master, Annibal Caracci, who died the
victim of the ostentatious parsimony of the mean and
princely protector.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 189
other noted persons in Rome ; and he was finish
ing the precious, and now invaluable, series with
his own fine head* when the pencil dropped
from his hand, and he found it impossible to con
tinue the undertaking with the same spirit in
which it had been commenced.f He turned
his thoughts to other subjects, but he could not
fix them — could not bring them to bear and rest
* The author of these pages has not been able to dis
cover the fate of these caricatures. Baldinucci says
the Marchese Donato Guadagnata of Rome had a
volume of his (Salvator's) designs, to the number of
eighty, and ten sketches in small pictures. Many of the
subjects were incidents in the lives of the ancient philo
sophers ; others were landscapes (veramente bellissime),
and others were portraits, some " di colpi caricati," &c.
t It is evident, from the testimony of Baldinucci, that
these caricatures were not undertaken in a satirical or
malicious spirit; and that Salvator was urged to execute
them by the friends who sat as originals. " Egli che per
far caricature era in supremo grado eccellento, crede di non
poterlo meglio servire che col fargli tutti di questi," &c.

190 LIFE AND TIMES
upon a given point — attention wearied in the
effort ! AU continuity of idea was broken up,
aU permanency of abstraction dissolved, and
the grand but disjointed conceptions which
stUl floated in the vague of his mighty but
rapidly exhausting imagination, resembled the
scattered wreck of some goodly and splendid
bark, which, tossed by the winds and floating
on the waves, still exhibits, in its vast but
shattered fragments, specimens of high inge
nuity and powerful combination.
He was the first, himself, to feel that his
faculties were faUing ; and his brilliant spirit
sunk at once under the painful and humiliating
conviction. It was in vain that his famUy and
his friends attempted to argue him out of this
behef of a mental decline ; against which, how
ever, he struggled, by occasionaUy affecting to
resume his art with aU his wonted ardour.
When they talked kindly but idly, he only
shook his head significantly ; and, in reply to
some of their common-places of regret and con-

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 191
dolence, was wont to answer — " Questo inter
viene a chi vuol dipingere e scrivere per Veter-
nita." " It is the destiny reserved for those
who would paint and write for eternity" — a
bold, but in him not an unfounded boast !
His famUy physician, and those who had most
influence over him, endeavoured to dissuade
him from aU mental as weU as manual occu
pation. His books and easel were removed,
and he graduaUy sunk into a hstless indolence,
strongly contrasted to the wonted moral and
physical activity of "one who," says Passeri,
" tUl now was always so worthily occupied."
A change in his complexion was thought to
indicate some derangement of the hver, and he
continued in a state of great languor and de
pression during the autumn of 1672 ; but in
the winter 1 673, the total loss of appetite, and
of aU power of digestion, reduced him almost
to the last extremity ; and he consented, at the
earnest request of Lucrezia and his numerous
friends, to take more medical advice. He now

192 LIFE AND TIMES
passed through the hands of various physicians,
whose ignorance and technical pedantry come
out with characteristic effect in the simple and
matter-of-fact detaUs which the good Padre
Baldovini has left of the last days of his emi
nent friend.* Various cures were suggested
by the Roman faculty for a disease which none
had yet ventured to name. Meantime the
malady increased, and shewed itself in aU the
* Francesco Baldovini was a Florentine priest, and a
devoted friend of Salvator Rosa. He is described as
being " noted in the republic of letters" of that time —
" Uomo notissimo nella republiea delle lettere." But he
must not be confounded with the admirable author of
" II Lamento di Cecco da VarlungaX," a delicious little bur
lesque poem written in the Lingua Contadinesca, and still
read with avidity in Italy. The prose of the Padre
Francesco Baldovini is quaint and involved, and his opi
nions are bigoted and narrow.

t Francesco Baldovini, the author of " II Lamento di
Cecco," was born in 1654, and was consequently not twenty
years of age when Salvator died.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 193
life-wearing symptoms of sleeplessness, loss of
appetite, intermitting fever, and burning thirst.
A French quack was called in to the sufferer,
and his prescription was, that he should drink
water abundantly, and nothing else but water.
While, however, under the care of this Gallic
Sangrado, a confirmed dropsy unequivocally
declared itself; and Salvator, now acquainted
with the nature of his disorder, once more sub
mitted to the entreaties of his friends, and, at
the special persuasion of the Padre Francesco
Baldovini, placed himself under the care of a
celebrated Italian empiric, then in great repute
in Rome, caUed Doctor Penna.
Salvator had but httle confidence in medicine.
He had already, during this melancholy winter,
discarded ah his physicians, and hteraUy "thrown
physic to the dogs;" but hope, and spring, and
love of hfe, revived together, and towards the
latter end of February he consented to receive
the visits of Penna, who had cured Baldovini
(on the good Padre's own word) of a confirmed
vol. ii. o

194 LIFE AND TIMES
dropsy the year before. When the doctor was
introduced, Salvator, with his wonted manliness,
caUed on him to answer the question he was
about to propose, with honesty and frankness,
viz. " was his disorder incurable?"
Penna, after going through certain profes
sional forms, answered " that his disorder was
a simple, and not a complicated dropsy, and
that therefore he was curable."
Salvator instantly and cheerfuUy placed him
self in the doctor's hands, and consented to sub
mit to whatever he should prescribe. " The
remedy of Penna," says Baldovini, " lay in seven
httle vials, of which the contents of one were to
be swaUowed every day." But it was obvious
to aU, that, as the seven vials were emptied, the
disorder of Salvator increased ; and on the
seventh day of his attendance, the doctor de
clared to his friend Baldovini, that the malady
of his patient was beyond his reach and skiU.
The friends of Salvator now suggested to
him their behef, that his disease was brought

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 195
on and kept up by his rigid confinement to the
house, so opposed to his former active habits of
life ; but when they urged him to take air and
exercise, he rephed significantly to their impor
tunities, " I take exercise ! I go out ! if this
is your counsel, how are you deceived !" At
the earnest request, however, of Penna, he con
sented to see him once more; but the moment
he entered his room, he demanded of him, " if
he now thought that he was curable ?" Penna,
in some emotion, prefaced his verdict by declar
ing solemnly, " that he should conceive it no
less glory to restore so illustrious a genius to
health, and to the society he was so calculated
to adorn, than to save the life of the Sovereign
Pontiff himself; but that, as far as his science
went, the case was now beyond the 'reach of
human remedy." WhUe Penna spoke, Salva
tor, who was surrounded by his famUy and
many friends, fixed his penetrating eyes on the
physician's face, with the intense look of one
who sought to read his sentence in the counte-
o2

196 LIFE AND TIMES
nance of his judge ere it was verbaUy pro
nounced ; — but that sentence was now passed !
and Salvator, who seemed more struck by sur
prise than by apprehension, remained sflent and
in a fixed attitude ! His friends, shocked and
grieved, or awed by the expression of his coun
tenance, which was marked by a stern and
hopeless melancholy, arose and departed silently
one by one. After a long and deep reverie,
Rosa suddenly left the room, and shut himself
up alone in his study. There in sUence, and in
unbroken sohtude, he remained for two days,
holding no communication with his wife, his
son, or his most intimate friends ; and when at
last their tears and lamentations drew him
forth, he was no longer recognizable. Shrunk,
feeble, attenuated, almost speechless, he sunk
on his couch, to rise no more !
If the motive of this self-incarceration and
rigid abstinence originated in his stoical prin
ciples — if he had resolved to meet death half
way, and to escape the hngering sufferings of

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 197
a slow and mortifying decline*, he had nearly
effected his purpose. His long fast had not only
preyed on his vital functions, it had enfeebled
and laid waste aU that remained of his mental
energies; and the drooping sadness that bent
down his harassed spirit and exhausted frame
was mistaken by the bigoted, or misrepresented
by the malignant, as the timidity and despair
of a conscience Ul at ease. The kind and shal
low Baldovini saw nothing in the melancholy
of Salvator, but the fear of purgatory, or the
apprehension of more permanent sufferings;
and he consoled him, or endeavoured to do so,
by assuring him that the devU had no power,
even in heU, over those who had been baptized
by the holy name of Salvator. " WhUe I spoke
thus," (says the good Padre,) " Salvator smUed."
In this death-bed smUe, (the last, perhaps,
ever given by Salvator to human absurdity,)
there is something singularly characteristic and
* See his allusion to this in one of his letters.

198 LIFE AND TIMES
affecting. For this depression of spirit, the
Padre Passeri saw another cause, more in
fluential than even the terrors of purgatory.
It was Salvator's connexion with Lucrezia — a
singular delicacy of conscience in an Itahan of
the seventeenth century ! But the two clerical
friends of Salvator did not overlook their calling
in their friendship ; nor forget that if the con
science of the dying did not calumniate their
hves, there would be nothing left for the church's
intercession ; and that its influence and revenues
would rapidly decrease together.
It is asserted by aU the biographers of Sal
vator, that he did not marry Lucrezia until his
last iUness. But what is most singular in the
event is, that the church itself stood opposed
to the reparation he was anxious (though late)
to make, to one who appears to have been
blameless in every respect, save in her connex
ion with him ; and he was obhged to have
recourse to some influential persons, to obtain

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 199
a hcence from the Vicario to make that woman
a wife, whom he had been so long permitted
to retain as his mistress in the midst of his
numerous ecclesiastical friends.
Life was now wearing away with such obvious
rapidity, that his friends both clerical and lai
cal, urged him in the most strenuous manner,
to submit to the ceremonies and forms pre
scribed by the Roman Catholic church in such
awful moments. How much the solemn sad
ness of those moments may be increased, even
to terror and despair, by such pompous and lu
gubrious pageants, aU who have visited Italy —
aU who stiU visit it, can testify.
Salvator demanded what they required of
him. They rephed, " in the first instance to
receive the sacrament as it is administered in
Rome to the dying." " To receiving the sacra
ment," says his confessor, Baldovini, " he shewed
no repugnance ( non se mostrd repugnante ;)
but he vehemently and positively refused to

200 LIFE AND TTMES
aUow the host, with aU the solemn pomp of its
procession, to be brought to his house, which he
deemed unworthy of the divine presence. He
objected to the holy ostentation of the ceremony,
to its iclat, to the noise and bustle, and smoke
and heat, it would create in the close chamber
of the sick. He indeed appears to have ob
jected to more than it was discreet to object
to in Rome : and aU that his famUy and his
confessor could extort from him on the subject
was, that he would permit himself to be carried
from his bed to the parish church, and there in
the humility of a contrite heart, would consent
to receive the sacrament at the foot of the altar.
As immediate death might have been the
consequence of this act of indiscretion, his
family, who were scarcely less interested for a
life so precious than for the soul which was the
object of their pious apprehensions, gave up the
point altogether ; and from the vehemence with
which Salvator spoke on the subject, and the
agitation it had occasioned, they carefully

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 201
avoided renewing a proposition, which had
rallied aU his force of character and vohtion to
their long-abandoned post.
The rejection of a ceremony which was deem
ed in Rome indispensably necessary to salva
tion, and by one who was already stamped with
the church's reprobation, soon took air ; report
exaggerated the circumstance into a positive
expression of infidehty ; and the gossipry of
the Roman anterooms was supphed for the
time with a subject of discussion, in perfect
harmony with their slander, bigotry, and
idleness. " As I went forth from Salvator's door,"
relates the worthy Baldovini, " I met the
Canonico Scornio, a man who has taken out a
hcence to speak of aU men as he pleases. 'And
how goes it with Salvator?' demands of me
this Canonico. ' Bad enough, I fear.' — ' WeU,
a few nights back, happening to be in the ante
room of a certain great prelate, I found myself
in the centre of a circle of disputants, who were

202 LIFE AND TIMES
bushy discussing whether the aforesaid Salva
tor would die a schismatic, a Huguenot, a
Calvinist, or a Lutheran?' — ' He wUl die,
Signor Canonico,' I replied, ' when it pleases
God, a better Cathohc than any of those who
now speak so shghtingly of him !' — and so I
pursued my way."
This Canonico, whose sneer at the undecided
faith of Salvator roused aU the bUe of the tole
rant and charitable Baldovini, was the near
neighbour of Salvator, a frequenter of his hos
pitable house, and one of whom the credulous
Salvator speaks in one of his letters as being
" his neighbour, and an excehent gentleman."
On the foUowing day, as the Padre sat by
the pihow of the suffering Rosa, he had the
simphcity, in the garrulity of his heart, to re
peat aU these mahcious insinuations and idle
reports to the invahd :— " but," says Baldo
vini, "as I spoke, Rosa only shrugged his
shoulders." Early on the morning of the 15th of March,

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 203
that month so delightful in Rome, the affec
tionate and anxious confessor, who seems to
have been always at his post, ascended the
Monte della Trinita, for the purpose of taking
up his usual place at the bed's head of the fast-
declining Salvator. The young Agosto flew to
meet him at the door, and, with a countenance
radiant with joy, informed him of the good
news, " that his ' Signor Padre ' had given
evident symptoms of recovery, in consequence
of the bursting of an inward ulcer."
Baldovini foUowed the sanguine boy to his
father's chamber. But, to aU appearance, Sal
vator was suffering great agony. " How goes
it with thee, Rosa ?" asked Baldovini kindly,
as he approached him.
" Bad, bad !" was the emphatic reply. WhUe
writhing with pain, the sufferer after a moment
added : — " To judge by what I now endure,
the .hand of death grasps me sharply."
In the restlessness of pain, he now threw
himself on the edge of the bed, and placed his

204 LIFE AND TIMES
head on the bosom of Lucrezia, who sat sup
porting and weeping over him. His afflicted
son and friend took their station at the other
side of his couch, and stood watching the issue
of. these sudden and frightful spasms in mourn
ful sUence. At that moment a celebrated
Roman physician, the Doctor Catanni, entered
the apartment. He felt the pulse of Salvator,
and perceived that he was fast sinking. He
communicated his approaching dissolution to
those most interested in the melancholy intelli
gence, and it struck aU present with unutterable
grief. Baldovini, however, true to his sacred
calling, even in the depth of his human afflic
tion, instantly dispatched the young Agosto
to the neighbouring Convent della Trinita, for
the holy Viaticum. WhUe life was stiU flut
tering at the heart of Salvator, the officiating
priest of the day arrived, bearing with him the
holy apparatus of the last mysterious ceremony
of the church. The shoulders of Salvator were
laid bare, and anointed with the consecrated oU ;

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 205
some prayed fervently, others wept, and aU even
stiU hoped; but the taper which the Doctor
Catanni held to the hps of Salvator, whUe the
Viaticum was administered, burned brightly and
steadUy ! Life's last sigh had transpired, as
rehgion performed her last rite.
Between that luminous and soul-breathing
form of genius and the clod of the vaUey, there
was now no difference; and the " end and ob
ject" of man's brief existence was now accom
plished in him, who, whUe yet aU young and ar
dent, had viewed the bitter perspective of hu
manity with a phUosophic eye, and pronounced
even on the bosom of pleasure,
" Nasci poena — Vita labor — Necesse mori."
On the evening of the day of the 15th of
March, 1673, the aU that remained of the
author of Regulus, of Catiline, and of the Sa
tires — of the gay Formica, the witty CovieUo !
¦ — of the elegant composer, and greatest painter
of his time and country — of Salvator Rosa! was

206 LIFE AND TIMES
conveyed to the tomb, in the church of Santa
Maria degli Angioli alle Terme, that mag
nificent temple! unrivaUed even at Rome in
interest and grandeur, and which now stands
as it stood when it formed the Pinacotheca of
the Thermae of Dioclesian ! There, accom
panied by much funeral pomp*, the body of
Salvator lay in state : the head and face,
according to the Itahan custom, exposed to
view. AU Rome poured into the vast cir
cumference of the church to take a last view
of the painter of the Roman people ! the
" Nostro Signor Salvatore" of the Pantheon :
and the popular feehngs of regret and admi
ration were expressed with the usual bursts of
audible emotion, in which Itahan sensibility
on such occasions loves to indulge. Some
few there were, who gathered closely and in
sUence round the bier of the great master

* Fu il giorno sequente con magnifica pompa funebre
esposto nella Chiesa della Madonna degli Angioli alle
Terme, &c. — Pascoli.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 207
of the Neapohtan school; and who, weeping
the loss of the man, forgot for a moment even
that genius which had already secured its own
meed of immortality. These were Carlo Rossi,
Francesco Baldovini, and Paolo Ohva, of whom
each returned from the grave of the friend he
loved, to record the high endowments and
powerful talents of the painter he admired,
and the poet he revered. Baldovini retired to
his ceU to write the " Life of Salvator Rosa,"
and then to resign his own ; Ohva to his
monastery, to compose the epitaph which is
still read on the tomb of his friend ; and Carlo
Rossi to select from his gahery such works of
his own beloved painter, as might best adorn
the walls of that chapel now exclusively con
secrated to his memory.
On the foUowing night the remains of Sal
vator Rosa were deposited, with aU the awful
forms of the Roman church, in a grave opened
expressly in the beautiful vestibule of Santa
Maria degli Angioli alle Terme. Never did the
ashes of departed genius find a more appro-

208 LIFE AND TIMES
priate resting-place! The Pinacotheca of the
Thermae of Dioclesian had once been the re
pository of aU that the genius of antiquity had
perfected in the arts ; and in the vast interval
of time which had since elapsed, it had suffered
no change, save that impressed upon it by the
mighty mind of Michael Angelo ! *
* Of the original vastness of the Baths of Dioclesian,
some idea may be formed in the present day, by the ground
they occupied being covered by villas, gardens, churches,
and monasteries. The principal hall of the Thermas.,
the Pinacotheca (so called from its having contained the
finest specimens of painting and sculpture,' at a period
when it was said there were more statues than men in
Rome) was with its gigantic columns, (each of one solid
piece of granite,) standing in perfect preservation, when
Pius IV. resolved on converting it into a Christian
temple. Fortunately the few changes to be effected were
committed to the superintendence of a genius, itself of
the true antique mould, and the Santa Maria degli
Angioli owes it to Michael Angelo, that of all the
churches of the Christian capital, it stands unrivalled in
its simple majesty and noble proportions.
Near the tomb of Salvator Rosa, rises that of his great

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 209
The tomb of Salvator Rosa is surmounted by
his bust ; and on the monument raised to his
memory, by the fihal piety of his son Agosto,
may be read the foUowing inscription * : —
D. O. M.
SALVATOREM ROSAM NEAPOLITANUM
PICTORUM SUI TEMPORIS
NULLI SECUNDUM,
POETARUM OMNIUM TEMPORUM
PRINCIPIBUS PAREM,
AUGUSTUS FILIUS
HIC MOERENS COMPOSUIT.
SEXAGENARIO MINOR OBIIT
ANNO SALUTIS MDCLXXIII.
IDIBUS MARTII.
contemporary Carlo Maratti, " both," says the Cicerone
of the church (a monk of the adjoining convent of the
Certosa) " both Volenti Pittori."
* Crescimbeni, in his Storia della volgare Poesia, as
serts, that this inscription was composed by the General
of the Jesuits, Paolo Oliva.
VOL. II. P

210 LIFE AND TIMES

CHAPTER XI.
Description of Salvator's person — His style of conversa
tion — His vogue — His School — Bartolommeo Torri-
gianni — Gi. Ghesolfi — Augustus Rosa — Pietro Mon-
tanini— Harry Cook — His Imitators— The late Cava-
liere Fidenza of Rome — Salvator's domestic character
and manner — His sons and descendants — His property
at the time of his death — His merits as a Painter (opi
nions of the most celebrated Masters) — as an Engraver
— as a Musical composer — His social talents — His
erudition — His poetry — State of Italian literature in
the seventeenth century — State of the press — Marini,
his followers in Italy and in England — Satirical and
burlesque poets of Italy — Satires of Salvator Rosa —
Their character and tendency — Cause of the diatribes
of contemporary critics — Their calumnies — Reputa
tion of Salvator's poetry in Italy in the present day.
Salvator, (according to Passeri,) though
not above the middle stature, exhibited in his

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 211
movements much grace and activity. His
complexion, though dark, was of that true
African colouring, which was far from displeas
ing; his eyes were of a deep blue and fuU of
fire; his hair, black and luxuriant, feUin undu
lating rings over his shoulders. He dressed
elegantly, but not in the court fashion ; for he
wore no gold-lace or superfluous finery. Bold
and prompt in discourse, he intimidated aU
who conversed with him ; and none ventured
openly to oppose him, because he was a tena
cious and stern upholder of the opinions he
advanced. In the discussion of precepts,
erudition, and science, he kept clear in the
first instance from the minutiae of particu
lars, but, adhering -to generals, he watched
and seized his moment to rush into his
subject, and make his point good. It was
then he shewed himself weh furnished for the
discussion, and this httle artifice he practised
with infinite skill. He had won over many
friends and many partisans to his own way of
r 2

212 LIFE AND TIMES
thinking; and had also raised against him
many enemies, who attacked his opinions. Be
tween these parties disputes frequently arose in
his assembhes, which sometimes led to scanda
lous ruptures.
Many of his followers had joined him from
coincidence of taste, and others merely for noto
riety, and to obtain the reputation of notable
persons, by associating with Salvator Rosa.
The post which he held in his profession was
one of high esteem ; because he knew how to
maintain his dignity with courtesy, and was,
generahy speaking, only to be won by prayers
and entreaties.*
His school produced but few worthy succes
sors, because his ambition never led him to sur
round himself with pupUs ; although it is true
many have aped and affected to imitate him,
but at an immeasurable distance. Bartolommeo
Torrigianif alone came near him in his aerial
* Passeri.
t " Bartolommeo Torrigiani fu scolaro di Salvator

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 213
tints, but he died young. Some noisy picture-
brokers (hucksters, " Rivendaglioli,") however,
would have puffed this painter up to an equahty
with his master, when they had his landscapes
on hand ! Ghesolfi MUanese, (his other pupU)
a man of talent and reputation, particularly in
perspectives with little figures, acknowledges
himself deeply indebted to the instructions of
Salvator, and in truth he has drunk deeply of
his good maxims, which included many of the
perfections of the art and the pencU. In addi
tion to these pupUs of Salvator's school men
tioned by Passeri, one of whom was hving
when he wrote, Salvator had two others besides
his son Augustus, viz. Pietro Montanini, and
a young Enghshman of the name of Cook* ;
Rosa, e di poco inferiore al maestro nel paesaggio, ma
nelle figure gli rimase a dietro assai, non avendo mai
saputo accordarle." — Ticozzi.
* " Harry Cook went into Italy, and studied under
Salvator Rosa." — Walpole's Anecdotes of Painting.
It has been already observed in these pages, that the

214 LIFE AND TIMES
but it was by precept only he instructed them,
for none ever saw him paint: (" non voleva
esser veduto da alcuni," says Pascoli.)
His imitators, however, have been countless ;
and it is supposed, that more than a fourth of
the smaU landscapes ascribed to him, have been
executed by those who rather exaggerated his
faults, than copied his merits. Of those who
closely fohowed him both in his defects and his
exceUencies, the most justly celebrated is the
Cavahere Fidenza of Rome*; but in aU, the
genius of Salvator Rosa was always justly estimated in
England. Philip Pont, in his Views of Derbyshire, closely
imitated his manner, which he made his peculiar study.
" Our painters," says Horace Walpole, " draw rocks and
castellated mountains and precipices, because Virgil
gasped for breath in Naples, and Salvator Rosa wandered
among Alps and Apennines." — Ibid.
* The Cavaliere Fidenza died a short time back in
Rome. The most learned cognoscenti in the. art have
purchased his landscapes as originals of Salvator's : some,
as such, have found their way to England and Ireland.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 215
master-genius — the power of invention was
wanting ; and the best were but tame and servUe
imitators of the great and unrivaUed original.
WhUe the public character, the person,
manner, and exterior modes of Salvator Rosa,
such as he appeared in what is caUed the
world, have been treated with amphtude by
Passeri, others of his biographers have en
tered more deeply into the domestic quahties,
the temperament, and daUy habits of the private
individual: and the home character of genius
is always interesting. A thousand individual
traits in the various biographical details, and
above ah in the private letters of Salvator Rosa,
speak a man full of those warm and zealous
affections which convert predilection into pas
sion, and tinge even the most moderate senti
ments with the ardour of enthusiasm. Head
long in his enmities as in his friendships, his
bitterness to those he hated was finely con
trasted by his tenderness to those he loved.
In his private and domesticated manners, he

216 LIFE AND TIMES
is said to have been fuh of amenity, pleasant
humours, and confidential : " For the rest," says
Pascoh, (who came to Rome whUe the impres
sions Salvator had made in its circles were still
fresh,) — " For the rest, though Salvator was by
temperament both sensual and sarcastic, those
faults were compensated by virtues, which
made them the more to be lamented, if not to
be excused. For he was charitable, alms-giv
ing, and generous ; gracious and courteous ; a
decided enemy to falsehood and fiction, greedy
of glory, eminent in ah the professions to which
he addicted himself, yet still prizing his talent
more in that department of the arts, in which
he did not excel, than in that line in which
he had no competitor."
Salvator Rosa had two sons by Lucrezia.
Rosalvo, the elder, died young at Naples*.

* Passeri says that Salvator sent his son Rosalvo to
Naples to his brother (" ad un suo fratello") where he
died of the plague. This is the only mention made of
this brother in any of the lives of Salvator Rosa. I
have heard traditionally that he was a monk.

OF SAli VATOR ROSA. 217
Agosto, his heir, on the death of his father
became possessed of a respectable and most
interesting property. According to various
authorities, he found himself master of eight
thousand scudi in specie ; letters of credit on the
bank of the Rossi for seven thousand more,
(the accumulated prices of pictures which Sal
vator had painted for, and left in the hands of
this hberal and devoted friend) ; a cohection
of pictures (some few of Salvator's own were
among the number) ; a hbrary of valuable
books ; a quantity of rich furniture ; a volume
of Salvator's original designs, forming, says Pas
coh, " un grosso volume," * and his manuscript
* The drawings of Salvator Rosa are extremely scarce.
The value placed even on his most careless sketches may
be judged by the following anecdote : — Calling one day
on Lorenzo Lippi at Florence, he was detained some time
waiting for his friend, and to beguile his ennui, he took
up a card and made a sketch on it. This card has reach
ed posterity, and is now carefully preserved in the lid of
a snuff-box, in the possession of the Prince Rozoumoffski,
a Russian noble. In the Baron Denon's vast and pre-

218 LIFE AND TIMES
writings, none of which, not even his satires,
were pubhshed tiU after his death. The whole
of this property was accumulated since the
period of his last return to Rome.
When Pascoh wrote his hfe of Salvator
Rosa, which, with his other hves, was pubhshed
in 1731, Agosto Rosa was stiU hving in his
father's house, on the Monte della Trinita, with
one son and one daughter. " The former,"
says Pascoli, " apphed himself to architecture,
and some part, if not all, of the genius of Salva
tor was stUl preserved in his descendants ; for
though he did not himself practise architecture
as a profession, he understood it perfectly."
The Chevaher D'Agencourt, in his account
of his visit to Rome, boasts of having " slept
in Rosa's bed, and even within his very
cious collection of original drawings, there is but one of
Salvator's. " Et encore,'' observes the accomplished
collector, in a letter to the author of this work — " Encore
n'a-t-il pas un degre de caractere, qui puisse faire juger
de ce maitre."

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 219
curtains." When Doctor Burney resided in
Rome in 1770, he found Salvator's house in
the Monte della Trinita, inhabited by his great
grand-daughter, from whom he purchased that
volume of MS. music and poetry (the compo
sitions of her Ulustrious ancestor), which but
for the enterprising spirit of British genius had
probably never seen the hght. The immediate
descendants of Rosa, bearing his name, stUl
hve in Rome ; but, as far as the author of this
Life of their immortal progenitor can discover,
they are ignorant of every thing that concerns
him, or unwilling to communicate the httle
that may yet be rescued from obhvion, of family
tradition. To the patent of Salvator's merit as a painter,
the successive generations of nearly two cen
turies have set their seals, and time and pos
terity have long consecrated the judgment
passed on his works by such contemporary
critics as were not influenced by envy, nor
warped by prejudice and party -spirit. The

220 LIFE AND TIMES
opinions of Passeri (and the disciple and wor
shipper of Domenichino was no incompetent
judge), of Baldinucci, of Pascoh, and of many
other virtuosi of his own times, or of those
which immediately fohowed them, are on re
cord. The qualified eulogium of Sir Joshua
Reynolds, (who, in refusing Salvator that
grace which none but himself ever denied,
accords him " aU the subhmity and grandeur
of the Sacred Volume from which he drew
his subject of Jacob's Dream*,") has long been

* The peculiar characteristic of Salvator's figures is
that spirited grace, as conspicuous in his banditti as
in his Jason and St. George; the grace of movement,
not of repose. Sir J. Reynolds has also observed, that
" Salvator had that sort of dignity which belongs to
uncultivated nature, but nothing of that which belongs
to the grand." Of this singular criticism, the Catiline
Conspiracy, and his Saul and Witch of Endor, afford
the best refutation. His remarks on his landscape are
more just. Between the subjects which he chose, and
his manner of treating them, " every thing," says Sir

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 221
before the British public; and to such testi
monies may be added, the hitherto unpubhshed
opinion of one, from whose refined taste and
superior judgment, few in the present day will
be inclined to appeal — I mean the Baron Denon.
In a letter to the author, this venerable Cory-
pheus of the arts observes of Salvator, that
he was " grand compositeur, dessinateur
spirituel, penseur poetique, grand paysagiste *,
et tout-a-fait original dans ce genre; vaste et
grandiose en tout. Les arbres sur le devant ont
une audace pour ainsi dire impertinente, qui leur
donne de la noblesse" &c.
As an engraver, he had ah the originahty of
manner which characterised his paintings ; and
Joshua, " was of a piece ; rocks, trees, sky, even nis
handling have the same rude and wild character which
animates his figures." — Discourse, vol. i. p. 133.
* Of his colouring, the Baron Denon observed (in reply
to a question of the author's) " II est plus coloriste dans
ses pay sages que dans ses tableaux d' histoire; mais ces
derniers sont plus profondement penses."

222 LIFE AND TIMES
notwithstanding the praises which have been
lavished on the execution of his etchings, the
designs or conceptions they embodied were
stiU superior to the manual dexterity displayed :
his touch was light, bold, and spirited; though
he is accused of wanting the force and energy
that characterised his pencU. He never engraved
any pictures but his own*.
As a musical composer, his merits must be
estimated by the progress which the most
charming of aU the arts had made in his own
times. The music of MUton's modern Orpheus,
" Harry, whose tuneful and well-measured song
First taught our English music how to span
Words with just note and accent," &c.
* The original plates, nearly worn out, were sold by
the present family to the government for 1000 dollars,
and are now in the Papal Chalcographic office. Copies
were, however, piratically executed by a living artist,
Rainaldi. Volpato, Strange, and Boydell, have engraved
his principal pictures.

OF SALVATOR ROSA, 223
would, in the present day, be as little palate-
able to an Enghsh pubhc, as the strains of
Dante's favourite minstrel Casseh would be
endurable to the cognoscenti audience of " the
San Carlos." It is enough to estabhsh the
musical genius of Salvator Rosa*, that his com
positions were pronounced by the most learned
and elegant musical professor of the last cen
tury, to be " in point of melody superior to
* While the air of " Vado ben spesso," and others of
Salvator Rosa's compositions are to be found in the ele-
gaut little musical albums of half the fashionables of
London, with quadriUes by Queens, and waltzes by
Duchesses, in Rome, all to whom I applied (either per
sonally or through her Grace the Duchess of Devonshire,
and my friend General Cockburn,) denied that Salvator
ever had composed a bar : " they had never even heard
he was a musician." They had probably never heard of
the works of Baldinucci, "Passeri, Pascoli, and other pic
torial biographers, which are known and read every where,
but at Rome. Two of Salvator's airs will be found at the
end of this volume.

224 LIFE AND TIMES
most of the masters of his time."* Of his skih
in architecture (which, however, he never prac
tised professionaUy), we have only a passing
observation of Pascoh, who asserts, that "he
understood it perfectly."
As a comic actor, an improvvisatore, a per
former on many musical instruments, and (to
use a French term for a talent, which for
very obvious reasons has no fit Enghsh one)
as a delightful causeur, the merits of Sal
vator Rosa must be taken upon trust ! These
brilliant qualifications which render life so much
more easy and delectable, than higher talents
and subhmer powers, have nothing to do with
time — they belong to the moment, and are
* Of this, his beautiful air, preserved by Dr. Burney, of
" Star vicino al bel' idol die Varna,
is a sufficient proof. Compared with the monotonous
drone of Harry Lawes's celebrated love ditty,
" A lover once I did espy,
it is quite a modern melody ; and yet Lawes and Salvator
were contemporaries.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 225
equally evanescent ; but the testimony which
ah who witnessed these personal accomplish
ments of the great poet-painter bear to their
exceUence, endows him with a sort of indivi
dual and characteristic fascination, which per
haps, in the " hey-day of his hfe," he would
not have exchanged for the immortality which
awaited him, when such light and dazzhng
acquirements should be inevitably forgotten.
As a prose writer, (if his familiar letters
written a trait de plume to intimate friends on
intimate subjects, and never intended for pub
lication, can entitle him to that epithet,) there
is a something Enghsh and natural in his
manner of expressing himself, which can only
be estimated by those who are acquainted with
the wretched prose style of that day in Italy,
or by comparing his epistolary correspondence
with the letters extant of Nicholas Poussin,
Lanfranco, Domenichino, &c. In this, as in
every other respect, Salvator Rosa had " devance
son siecle."
VOL. II Q

226 LIFE AND TIMES
His erudition was not only profound — it was
cumbrous ; and his teeming memory stands ac
countable for the pedantry which occasionaUy
disfigures the best of his graver poems, at the
moment that he attacks the same fault in
others. He was accused by his detractors and
critics of not knowing Greek. If this be true,
(and it does not appear that it is) his modern
readers will be rather thankful that he did not,
from the over-use he has made of his acquire
ment in that dead language of which he was
the master.
The more difficult and dehcate task remains,
to speak of Salvator as a poet ; not, however,
with reference to the language in which he
wrote, to detect his Neapohtan patois, or lament
that deficiency in " Tuscanisms," which drew,
and still draws down upon him the anathemas
of the Deha Cruscan school. To attempt
such an analysis would argue a presumption,
only to be equaUed by the bad taste which
could lead to so flagrant a violation of hterary
discretion.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 227
It is the poetical genius of Salvator Rosa,
and the inteUectual character of his poetry,
with reference to the age in which he lived,
and to contemporary writers, which alone can
come with propriety under the discussion of
one, who, as a foreigner, must be an inadequate
judge of verbal merits and defects, but who may
not be insensible to the force and originality
of ideas which are admirable and original, in
whatever language they are clothed.
To the political struggles of the sixteenth
century in Italy — struggles which gave such an
impetus to the national genius, and roused the
inteUectual energies of the people to their
fullest possible developement, succeeded the
utter subjection and dead repose which have
ever hung upon the nations which have sub
mitted to the House of Austria. From the
early part of the seventeenth century, the
hberty of speaking,, of writing, almost of think
ing, was controUed in Italy by the most fearful
inflictions, civU and religious. The Inquisition
became the tribunal where aU literary merit
« 2

228 LIFE AND TIMES
was adjudged; and the gaheys or the scaffold
awaited that daring genius, who, by the least
freedom of inquiry, led to the discovery of
those truths which it was the supposed interest
of the Continental despots to bury in eternal
oblivion. Even the priesthood no longer found
safety in their habit, when they violated, by the
faintest indiscretion of independent opinion,
the settled order of things. The Spanish Vice
roy of Naples tortured or persecuted such of
the Italian clergy as adopted the Council
of Trent, in opposition to the decrees which
had issued from the Escurial. Ah pubhc
meetings were prohibited ; aU forbidden books
found in the libraries of private individuals,
subjected their owners to the most rigorous
punishments, (and aU books worth reading
were then in the Pope's Index Expurgatorius).
Throughout all Italy, the moral activity and
intehectual force of the people were graduahy,
and by a fatal necessity, confined to the discus
sion of contemptible futilities, and devoted to a
species of literary trifling, whose fatal influence

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 229
is stiU visible in those trivial productions and
critical disputes, which, even now, are the sole
products of the shackled press in that heavily
oppressed country. In this epoch of debased
inteUect, the Cavahere Marini, the Poet Laureat
of blue-stocking Queens and rhyming Pontiffs,
contributed by his vogue and influence to dete
riorate aU that remained of the pure taste and
stern style which were Conspicuous in the elegant
versification of Lorenzo de' Medici, and in the
nervous prose of MachiaveUi.
The genius of Marini was so well suited
to the age in which he flourished, that he
became the model and authority for aU the
endless conceits and affected verbosity of the
" Rimatori Seicentisti* ;" and the laboured pe-
* The boldness with which Salvator attacked the poe
tical mania and mannerism of the day, evinces a moral
courage, infinitely more rare than mere animal hardihood.
After declaring in his " Poesia" that he has so much to
condemn that he scarcely dares begin, he suddenly bursts
forth: — " Offre

230 LIFE AND TIMES
culiarities, forced metaphors, and wretched
mannerisms, which his works brought into
fashion, succeeded universaUy to those bold
unfettered effusions of genius, which, in the
immortal works of Ariosto and Tasso, had
scared the puerile judgments of the incor
porated academicians of Italy. Even England,
under the Stuarts, caught the infection of
Marini's manner; and Cowley, and other me
taphysical poets of his time, imitated his false
conceits and forced metaphors, and mistook his
" Offre alla mente mia ristretto insieme
Un indistinto Caos vizi infiniti,
E di mille pazzie confuso il seme.
Quindi i traslati, e i paralelli arditi :
Le parole ampollose, e i detti oscuri,
Di grandezze e decoro i sensi usciti.
Quindi i concetti 6 mal espressi, 6 duri
Con il capo di bestia il busto umano,
Delia lingua stroppiata i mori impuri
Dell' iperboli qui l'abuso insano,
Cola gl' inverisimili scoperti,
Lo stil per tutto eflfemminato, e vano," &c.
La Poesia.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 231
subtlety for wit, and his hyperbole for sub
limity. Deep thought and strong expression
were now interdicted by political institutes ;
to write forcibly was to incur proscription ; and
a war of words, a contest upon accents, was
waged with a species of vindictive fury, whose
violence was the result of restless powers com
pressed within a narrow sphere, which painfuUy
contrasted the natural activity of the Itahan spirit
with the nullity of the interests of the people.*
* Of the pastoral poetry and madrigals then in fashion
in Italy, the following is a fair specimen. It is by Achil-
lini, of whom Sismondi observes, " Few writers ever
attained to so high a degree of reputation during their
lives, and few have afterwards sunk into more complete
oblivion. Italy, at that time, languished under the domi
nion of bad taste, whose influence over the mind and the
imagination seemed to stifle every other species of talent."
— P. 271, vol. ii. ofRoscoe's translation.
" Col fior de' fiori in mano
II mio Lesbin rimiro
Al fior respiro, e '1 pastorel sospiro.
11 fior sospira odori
Lesbin respira ardori. L'od

232 LIFE AND TI3IES
Towards the middle of the seventeenth cen
tury the whole hterary armament of Italy was
drawn out in battle array, to defend a Sonnet
of Marini, or to attack an Idyhium of Murtola,
his rival; whUe the poetical imagination of
the most imaginative people in Europe was
restricted in ah its conceptions within the pale
of the heathen mythology, in whose worn-out
combinations nothing could be found (as the
Itahan hterary hcence runs) " contro la Santa
fede Cattolica," against the holy Cathohc faith.
It is notable, therefore, that it was in the
midst of this pitiable and self-satisfied medio
crity, this degraded and feeble state of the
Itahan inteUect, that Salvator Rosa composed
and recited his bold, vigorous, and poetical
satires ! — satires, which for the subjects they

L' odor dell' uno odoro
L' ardor dell' altro adoro,
Ed odorando ed adorando i' sento
Dal odor, dal ardor, ghiaccia, e tormento."

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 233
treated, and the manner in which they were
written, had the singular merit of origin ahty,
at a moment when that particular style of com
position was supposed in Italy to have reached
its supreme point of perfection ; and when all
originality, as Salvator himself declared, was
wholly banished from the literature of the day.*
' The Itahan language had been early applied
to satire, as many of the passages in the " Corn-
media " of Dante prove. But the vein of bitter
invective of this poet, which spared neither
Princes nor Popes, was succeeded by a hght
and jocose satire, which the talents and works
of Lorenzo de' Medici, Franco f , Pulci, Berni,
* " Tutti cantano omai le cose istesse ;
Tutti di novita son privi affatto."
La Poesia — Satire di S. Rosa.
t " Nicola Franco fu impiccato in Roma in eta senile
per aver fatte una satira contro il S. Pontefice, Pio Quinto."
— Nota alia Babilonia.
Nicholas Franco was hanged at Rome in his old age,
for having written a satire against Pius V. With him
indeed, as with Juvenal, almost every line betrays the

234 LIFE AND TIMES
and Bentivogho, long continued to preserve
fresh and unrivaUed in popular admiration. The
satires of Ariosto, with aU their interest and
merit, were merely personal : they recorded his
own story, the blighting influence of patronage,
the misery of hterary dependence, the captious
tyranny of pretending superiors, and the un
willing submission of proud but indigent genius !
Great applause had been won by Baldovini for
his " Lamento di Cecco da Verlunga," written in
" La lingua Contadinesca," or rustic dialect ;
and Delia Cruscan critics had crowned Men-
zini as the prince of Itahan satirists, of the
seventeenth century.
But these writers, though named satirists,
scarcely ventured beyond jesting lightly with
the hghter follies of mankind. They brought
nothing of that deep feehng and phUosophic
spirit to bear upon their task, which distinguish
the works of the painter-poet of Naples ; and

peculiar character of his inspiration. — Facit indignatio

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 235
that poet was the first to attack the institutions
of the corrupt society in which he hved, and to
stigmatize the false conclusions and vicious
modes they originated in all the relations of life.
Indignant at the obstacles which mediocrity
threw in the way of his own consciously-merited
success, he scorned to palter with the httleness
of the age in which he lived ; but feU as recklessly
on the crimes of the great, as on the pretension
and servility of the tribe of painters and poets,
who wrote or daubed down to the level of their
ignorant and vain-glorious patrons.* Of a burn-
* In attacking the poetasters of the day, (which he did
in some instances by name,) their servile habits and style
of composition, he observes of himself, that neither the
Muse nor the love of fame has induced him to write ; but
that he is irresistibly spurred on by the violation of all
moral laws which he beholds on every side : —
" Non vedi tu, che tutto il mondo e pieno
Di questa razza inutile e molesta,
Che i poeti produr sembra il terreno ?
Per Dio, Poeti, io vo sonare a Festa :
Me non lusinga ambizion di gloria,
Violenza moral mi sprona e desta."

236 LIFE AND TIMES
ing and energetic temperament, a true chUd of
hberty, he was impracticable to all restraint.
Writing rather from his passions than his
head, he poured forth his verses in the abund
ance of his teeming ideas, not only regardless
of the pedantic rules and academic refinements
of his own particular age, but too frequently
even neghgent of that indispensable correctness
of style and selection of phrase, which the best
ages of literature in all countries have rigidly
and properly exacted from the master-geniuses
they have produced.* The satires of Salvator,
resembling the poetry of MachiaveUi more than
that of any other Itahan writer, are more re
markable for their depth of thought and vigour
of expression, than for their grace or harmony :

* Salvator frankly and playfully alludes io this in his
Poesia. " Ed oggi il Tosco mio guasto idioma
Non havrii il suo Lucilio ; oggi, ch' ascende
Ciascuno in Dirce a coronar la chioma."

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 237
but their author had one singular advantage
over the pohtical statesmen of Florence : — he
did not coldly laugh at the human race, whUe
he endeavoured to correct its follies by expos
ing them. He was too much in earnest to be
playful, too vehement and atrabilarious not to
wound sharply when he chose to, strike. With
more of Juvenal than Horace (though he imi
tated both) in the character of his genius, he
occasionaUy displays, with the strength of the
former, too much of his coarseness. But the
prevailing manners of his day and country
account for, without excusing, this unpardon
able fault ; which, though the least in the eyes
of contemporary critics, must always lessen his
merit in the estimation of a more refined and
fastidious posterity. It is, however, notable, that
if, like his great Latin prototype, he is sometimes
offensive in terms, stiU he never faUs into the im
moral indehcacies of his influential countryman
Marini, and is rarely guUty of those disgustingly
coarse ahusions to human depravity, with which

238 LIFE AND TIMES
the great Censor-critic of England charges the
" melancholy Cowley," the " courtly Denham,"
the " witty Donne," and other contemporary
British poets, who were deemed the "grace
and ornament" of an English court, and are
still ranked among the brightest luminaries in
the galaxy of British classics. Salvator, indeed,
never for a moment relaxes from the highest
tone of Christian and phUosophical morality.
His works, whether of the pen or the pencil,
were aU in alliance with Virtue and her cause ;
and he neither spares Ariosto nor Giuho Romano
(whom he so much admired), when expressing
his abhorrence of that perversion of genius,
which lends its mighty powers to the corrup
tion of society by pandering to its passions.
The immediate precursor of FUicaja, he was
the first who dared to write in the cause of
hberty, and to expose the abuses in morals and
manners which result from despotism in go
vernment ; and this too, after a century of timid
silence upon such perilous subjects, which, even

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 239
now to treat, would be to incur the horrors of
an Itahan dungeon, or an Hungarian fortress.*
Furnished to repletion by his retentive me
mory with a variety of classical ahusions, which
he used perhaps too unsparingly, his pages were
at least free from that scholastic subtUty and far
fetched thought, which disfigured not only the
conceited Seicentisti of Italy, but almost aU the
* His noble burst of indignation against the crimes of
the great and the miseries of the lowly, in his poem of
La Poesia, exhibits an almost superhuman courage, con
sidering the age and circle in which he lived.t

Dite di non saper qual piu riceva
Seguaci, 6 l'Alcorano, od il vangelo,
O la strada di Roma 6 di Geneva.
Dite che della fede e spento il zelo
E che a prezzo d' un pan vender si vede
L' onor, La Liberia, 1' anima, il cielo :
Che per tutto interesse ha posto il piede,
Che deUa Tartaria fino alia Betica
L' infame Tirannia post' hb. la sede." La Poesia.

240 LIFE AND TIMES
poetry of contemporary writers in other coun
tries ; whUe in those aUegorical personifications
of which he was so fond, he displays ah the
poetical colouring and graphic touches which
could be derived from the possession of an
almost equal exceUence in arts so closely
allied.* While the boldness and freedom with which
he uttered opinions, always considered as hete
rodox in modern Italy, the courageous and un
compromising honesty with which he lashed at
tyranny and hypocrisy, though surrounded by
* Of this his description of Night in L'lNvmiAt, and
his personification of the Genius of Painting and Envy,
are fair illustrations.

Era la notte, e delle stelle i lussi
Cintia cingean che dal cornuto argento,
Sulla testa a piu d' un scotea gl' infiussi.
Tacea dell' aria il garrulo elemento,
Tacea dell' oceano il moto alierno
E sofliavan le spie, ma non il vento."

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 241
despots and inquisitors, evinced the highest tone
of moral courage, his sarcasms levehed at the
heartless egoism of the great, and at the absence
of ah pubhc spirit in the people, may redeem
those occasional faults and obvious excesses in
style and expression, which were probably no
less engendered by the opposition he had to
contend with, than by the natural vehemence
of his own passions and the unbridled wUdness
of his imagination.
But with his learning though it approached
to pedantry, with his coarseness though it had
verged on indecency, and with his exaggera
tion, though it had passed the hne of aU known
hyperbole, — the Itahan critics of the seven
teenth century would have found no fault — for
such blemishes were then deemed merits. The
crime of Salvator Rosa— the splendid crime-
was, that he had outstripped the age and nation
in which he was condemned to hve, by the
frank expression of opinions which were then,
as now, feared and condemned by aU Italian
VOL. II. b

242 LIFE AND TIMES
governments, and this offence stiU continues to
keep his memory under the ban of legitimate
proscription ; while " Gl' oziosi,
Gl' adormentati — i rozzi — e gl' umoristi
Gl' insensati — i fantastici, e gl' ombrosi *,"
of modern times, equaUy tenacious and uncom
promising with their rulers, have not yet forgiven
him his bitter attacks upon the tinsel taste and
literary trifling of their forgotten predecessors f .
In despite, however, of hterary and party
feuds, of the opposition of the great and the
attacks of the httle, the poetical works of Sal-
• Salvator Rosa — Satira Scconda*
t Salvator was, I believe, the first who attacked the
Della Cruscan academy, for its infamous conduct to the
immortal Tasso.
" Applaude ai Bavj, ai Mevj, arciasinoni,
Che non avendo letto altro che Dante,
Voglion far sopra i Tassi i Salomoni :
E con censura sciocca ed arrogante,
Al poema immortal del gran Torquato
Di contrapporre ardiscono il Morgante." — Poesia.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 243
vator Rosa were read with avidity, and circu
lated universaUy, during his lifetime, and long
before they were printed or published*. The
brilliant success they met with from the impar
tial pubhc served but to embitter the spirit
of party against their author. When it was
found no longer possible to decry the merits of
his poems, his enemies denied they were his ;
and reports were industriously circulated that
they were in part the compositions of Salvator
Rosa's old and deceased friend, Fra Reginaldo
Sgambati, and in part the works of Ricciardi.
It was this calumny that produced his con
cluding satire L'Jnvidia, (one of his best and
bitterest,) and induced his friends to come for
ward and prove the authenticity of those sa
tires, which it was a perUous honour to father.

* The Satires, though circulated in manuscript, and
universally read and admired throughout Italy, were not
published till after Salvatqr's death, and then were dated
from Amsterdam. r 2

244 LIFE AND TIMES
On this occasion, the Professor Ricciardi
denied explicitly having any share in the com
position of Salvator's poems ; and Baldinucci
produced scraps of the original MS. aU blotted
and corrected by Salvator's own hand. The
two Maffei proved that the satires were com
phed and finished in their own palace and
yUla at Volterra ; and the celebrated Francesco
Redi, (who, with a hundred others, had heard
Salvator recite the Satires almost at improvviso,)
declared that he had also seen them in the pro
gress of their transcription, and had pointed out
the Neapolitanisms and faults of language to
Salvator, which he rectified at the moment with
such promptness, facility, and fine adaptation,
as none but the author could have done.*
* While Salvator submitted to the criticisms of
the elegant and amiable Redi, he laughed openly at the
pedantic pretensions of the Della Cruscan freluquets. " As
for the ancients," he says, " I adore their memory, and
kiss the trace of their steps ;" but for the Delia Cruscan
purists, " Di

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 245
Still, however, with aU these honourable tes
timonies in their favour, the internal evidence
of the poems themselves is the best proof of
the identity of their author. " In fact," says a
modern Itahan critic, " Salvator, in his Satires,
has given a striking portrait of himself: they
contain the same vivacious sallies and acute
bon-mots, which came out through aU his comic
recitations, his familiar letters (written to his
friends), and his original conversation ; and
which obtained for him the esteem and affec
tion of aU the most accomphshed persons of
Rome and Florence.

" Di barbarie servile e pedantesca
La di lor poesia cotanto e carca,
Ch' e assai piu dolce una canzon Tedesca.
Ma qui il mio ciglio molto piu s' inarca :
Non e con loro alcuna voce Etrusca,
Se non e nel Boccaccio 6 nel Petrarca ;
E mentre vanno di parlare in busca
I Toscani Mugnai Legislatori
Gli trattano da Porci con la Crusca."—La Poesia.

246 LIFE AND TIMES
WhUe the professed Trecentisti and Delia
Cruscans of the present day* place Salvator
Rosa in the second class of poets — whUe his
works are anathematized by the " Parnasso
Italiano," and " damned with faint praise" by
those cold dry hterary annahsts, Tiraboschi and
Crescimbenif, there are even among those of
* Life prefixed to the Satires of Salvator Rosa.
t Crescimbeni's observations on Salvator Rosa are
worth quoting, as curious specimens of the Italian prose
style of his day :
" Salvatore Rosa, Pittore, non poco accredito, fu
anche poeta satirico, e fiori spezialmente nel Pontificato di
Clemento IX. Un volume di sue Satire fu impresso dopo
sua morte, che segui in Roma, e fu sepolito in Santa
Maria degli Angeli," &c.
" S. Rosa, a painter of no small renown, was also a
satirical poet, and flourished more especially in the reign
of Clement IX. A volume of his Satires was published
after his death, which happened at Rome, and was buried
(the volume ?) in the Santa Maria," &c.
This perspicuous prose writer appears enraged at the
encomiums bestowed on Salvator, in his epitaph by the

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 247
the modern Itahans, whose own principles are
in full coincidence with the pohtical opinions
and phUosophical views of Salvator Rosa,
many who shrink from opposing their own
private judgment in favour of the poet of
hberty, to the decision of those authorized
and " time-honoured" tribunals which con
demned Torquato Tasso. But Italy is daUy be
coming more worthy of appreciating the genius
of one, whom England has always cherished ;
General of the Jesuits, who, he says, speaks of Salvator's
poetical merits, " con iperboli incredibilemente strabic-
chevali." — Istoria della Volgar Poesia, &c.
It is curious that Tiraboschi only alludes to Rosa inci
dentally, in his eulogy on Benedetto Menzini (the protege
of Queen Christina of Sweden). " Nel satire Italiane egli
(Menzini) non ha chi gli possa star a confronto, e solo
ad esse si accostano quelle di Ludovico Adimari, da noi
nominato poi anzi, e piu di lungo quelle di Salvator Rosa
poeta e pittore Napolitano, e piu celebre per la pittura
che per la poesia."

248 LIFE AND TIMES
nor can it be supposed, that they who now
dare to admire the nervous strength and free
breathings of an Alfieri — who dweU with enthu
siasm on the bold, imaginative, and philoso
phical poetry of a Byron (of aU modern Eng
lish poets the one most read in Italy), — could
remain insensible to the same quality of genius
in a native poet, though marked by less po
lished forms, and draped in less modern modes.
The fact is so much the contrary, that the Sa
tires of Salvator Rosa are daUy becoming more
read and admired throughout Italy. His po
htical opinions, his phUosophy, his taste, all
belong to the present times, as they were
splendid exceptions to the tameness, ignorance,
and hterary degradation of those in which he
flourished: and did he now hve to illustrate
Italy and her troubled dawn of regeneration
with his powerful and brilliant talents, it may
be presumed that the cause which led him to
abandon the painted gaheries of Rome for the
murky tower of MasanieUo, would stiU have

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 249
directed his pencU and guided his pen
in favour of that hberty which, hke a pure
and persecuted rehgion, has been miraculously
preserved by some few warm and zealous
worshippers, even in a region, where every
institute has long been, and stUl is, armed
against its existence.

250 LIFE AND TIMES

CHAPTER XII.
Letters of Salvator Rosa to Doctor Baptista Ricciardi *,
Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University of
Pisa, from the year 1652, to the year 1669.
LETTER I.
It is clear that you labour under some
malady of the eyes, by the judgment you have
passed on the picture. Poor Albano ! WhUe he
flattered himself that he had arrived at the last
perfection of his art, Ricciardi pronounces of his
picture, " that he never saw a,worse," Go then,
Rosa, and exchange with Ricciardi, one of your
* Reader on Moral Philosophy in the University of
Pisa, and in his time a poet of some celebrity. Rosa had
exchanged a landscape done by himself for Ricciardi,
against a picture of Albano's, which forms the subject
of this letter.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 251
httle landscapes for the picture of a man so
famous in his art ; and since Ricciardi is neither
a professor of painting nor even the most clear
sighted of judges, you may hope that he xviU not
only not be displeased, but be actuaUy satisfied
with his bargain. I must, however, be on my
guard; since my most sapient and refined
Metrodorus is so much more knowing than I
am. That the three butterflies, however, should
not please, is too much criticism, and quite be
yond my comprehension ; so e'en let us drop
the subject. I give up in every thing and
for ever to your taste, since I find it so wide
from the opinion which the whole world has
long entertained of Albano ; and I promise you,
that another time I shaU avoid the error of
which you complain, and think a httle better
of my own works for the future.
I must now inform you, that I have sold my
two great pictures to the Venetian ambassador,
a nobleman of extraordinary judgment. When
he came to see me, he took so much pains to
express his esteem by other means than the

252 LIFE AND TIMES
mere common-place jargon of such great per
sonages, that he compeUed me to seU him the
pictures at the first offer which he made me,
through one of his gentlemen, an acquaintance
of my own. The price is three hundred ducats,
which, though less than the value of the labour,
wUl answer my purpose weU enough.
I beg, therefore, that should you stand in
need of such a sum, you wiU make use of it as
frankly and UberaUy as I offer it. I have often
told you that I have nothing in the world that
I would not willingly share with you ; and if
you do not now accept my offer, I shah think
you take aU this for mere profession. Ricciardi,
he who has given you ah his affections and his
esteem should not withhold his purse.
If you send me the Canzone, I shaU esteem
it as the fruit of your genius ; but I must
frankly teh you, that when I saw it dedicated
to Cascina*, I was ready to faint. Cascina
* Rosa complains that Ricciardi, after dedicating a
canzonetta to him, should put Cascina's name at the head
of another.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 253
was never made to be sung among the Volunni,
the Baldinelh, and the Salvator Rosa's. You
wiU understand me.
The heats are beginning to set in with
great violence ; and I must confess myself an
ass for spending the summer at Rome. But
the fault is yours ; and whatever happens of it,
you shall be made responsible for aU, in good
time. Salute aU our friends ; and do me the
favour of telhng Signor Lanfreducci, that I have
executed his commission and got the two airs
copied ; but his friend must cah for them as we
had agreed, for he hves at three miles distance
from me. For the rest I know of nothing that
wUl be more gracious to hear, than that you are
in good health. Signora Lucrezia and Ursula
embrace you conjointly with
Your true friend,
S. Rosa.
July 6, 1652.

254 LIFE AND times

LETTER II.
My letter of last week was but short ; and
so they must aU be that I shaU write during
the month of September, owing to the business
I am about to relate to you. Signor Corsini
has been appointed the French Nuncio, and
after having considered what present he could
make to the king on his arrival in France, he
resolved last week that I should paint a great
battle-piece *, exactly of the size of my
• This is the unrivalled Battle-piece now in the Royal
Museum of France. It is curious to observe, that the
diplomatic presents of the sixteenth and beginning of the
seventeenth centuries chiefly consisted in the works of
the great masters, as they now do in diamond sriwfF-boxes
and costly toys. The favourable result to the arts is
obvious, as well as the estimation in which good pictures
were held. " In December, the Queen (of Charles I.)
was brought to bed of a second daughter, named Eliza
beth. To congratulate her Majesty's safe delivery, the

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 255
" Bacchanals," with which you are acquainted ;
—that is to say, it must be fourteen palms in
length and nine in width. For ah this, I have
but forty days aUowed me, since Monsignor
must leave Rome by the end of September ;
and knowing that no other painter here could
have executed a work in so short a time, or
apphed himself to business during the heats of
August, he has shut his eyes to the two
hundred ducats, which I have asked as the
lowest price : and I on the other hand have
joyfully embraced the occasion, not only on
account of the hberal price, but for the honour
(which could not weU have been greater), of
sending one of my pictures from Rome as a
present to the King of France !
But this is not aU: Monsignor Gaetano,
HoUanders sent hither a solemn embassy and a noble
present — a large piece of ambergris, two fair china-
basons, almost transparent ; a curious clock, and four
rare pieces of Tintoret's and Titian's painting." — White-
lock, p. 24.

256 life and times
who is chosen the Spanish Nuncio, would also
have given me five hundred scudi for my two
pictures of the Philosophers, to carry them to
the King of Spain, had they now been in my
possession* What say you to this, friend ? Am
I not in the right road to glory ? Is not my re
putation and esteem among artists on the in
crease ? I must, however, beg your indulgence,
if in the mean time I write with unusual
brevity ; for, in truth, my head is now as fuh
of slaughter and uproar as if it belonged to
Alecto herself.
Oh ! how deeply the news of your brother's
extravagance affected me. He was a man
to whom I could have confessed my sins upon
my knees. The worst too of the business
is, that what he has done faUs on your patri
mony; a circumstance which I feel in my
inmost heart. I hope, however, that you will
not be greatly distressed : but, at aU events, I
* These are, I believe, the two pictures in the posses
sion of the Marchioness Dowager of Lansdown.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 257
am here to assist you ; and I swear to you, that
as long as I have a Giulio, the half of it shaU be
yours. Cheer up, therefore, and srmle misfor
tune out of countenance. At present I am
richer than ah the Crcesuses and the Ceecilii
together, and let that suffice, since I am yours
heart and soul.
I repeat that you are wrong in supposing that
the little oval picture is not by Albano, but by
some Roman artist. It is most certainly his,,
though one of the last things he did, and
executed under the disadvantage of old age ; so
you must have patience. If it has not indeed
ah the gusto I coidd wish, I am sure of this,
that there is no one in this country who could
do better. But, as I do not care to dispute with
you at present on pictures, I suppose I must
e'en make my account by painting you some
thing of my own, and taking this one back
again ; wUl this please you, Signor Coccia ?
As to the battle-piece of three and a half
braccie by two, on which you desire that I
VOL. II. S

258 LIFE AND TIMES
should put a price, I shaU give you my opinion
as usual with perfect freedom. You know, I
beheve, my repugnance to the subject. It is
one on which I have set my heart to excel aU
the painters who may desire to enter the hsts
with me, to say nothing of the great labour of
such a work. If you choose, however, you may
teU your friend, that out of friendship for you,
it shaU cost him but three hundred crowns:
and I must tell you moreover, that, except at
your suggestion, I would not undertake it at any
price. You already know that I have almost
made a vow not to paint any more such
pictures, unless they are paid for at the rate of
a Titian or a Raffael !
Father Cavalh* (who was with me yes
terday) esteems you much : he is, in truth, a
most worthy personage.
For the rest, dear Ricciardi, keep up your
spirits, and beheve in purse and person I am
whoUy yours.

* Ricciardi dedicated a canzone to P. Cavalli.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 259
The Signora Lucrezia and Ursula salute vou,
as I do most affectionately aU our friends. I
embrace you with att my heart.
Your true friend, S. Rosa.
TeU me how Sign. Lanfreducci liked " //
Sonno." August, 1652.

LETTER III.
This post brought no letter from you,
which I am willing to attribute to some ex
traordinary occupation on your part. My pic
ture sets off for France to-morrow, where I
have only to hope it wUl succeed as weU as it
has done in Rome, which I may swear to you
is as much as any modern picture (not to speak
of the old masters) ever did ; insomuch, that
my reputation has taken an amazing spring.

260 LIFE AND TIMES
The book you ask for is not to be found ; but
our friend Signor Brunetti has already told you
as much. At last, Ricciardi, I may say that I
am restored to my ancient freedom. I have
hitherto not had a day free from visitors since
I finished my precious picture.
Remember me to our friend Signor Fabretti,
and recaU me to his good wishes, as also to
those of the rest of your circle. MeanwhUe,
from my sohtude, I remind you to write as
often as you can, and to love me whUe you
hve. I embrace you affectionately.
Your true friend,

S. Rosa.

Rome, 19th October, 1652.

LETTER IV.
Dear Friend,
Your advice ever was, and ever wiU be,
most welcome to me. With respect to my

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 261
scraping together a little money, as weU for the
dignity of my reputation, as for the comforts of
life, I must needs confess, that without money
it is impossible that we artists can derive aU
the benefit from our labours that we seek
and that we deserve ; and I have resolved to
use ah possible diligence on my part, whenever
Fortune is disposed to do her's. My picture is
on its road to France, liaving met with all the
success of which I have informed you. But
teU me, could it have gone at a worse moment
than the present, when the King has any thing
else in his head rather than pictures ?
WeU, these are pleasant speculations ; not
to speak of a thousand other teazing trifles
respecting the price, which however are no
trifles in their influence on my interests. Stih I
leave ah to heaven : as far as I am concerned
I must be a gainer, if not in pecuniary mat
ters, at least in reputation. Before this time
you must have received a letter from me, in
which I have explained my reasons respecting

262 LIFE AND TIMES
a journey to Naples in the ensuing Lent.
I do not send you the sketches of the Battle-
piece, as it is necessary that I should keep
them myself, to avoid repetitions on a future
occasion. But if it is true that you are going
on with your coUection of designs, I must send
you some trifle.
The Signora Lucrezia is near her confine
ment, and suffers much as usual. Both she
and Ursula kiss your hands.
The Archdeacon is gone to the other world ;
heaven grant him there more brains, than he
seemed to have in this world! I salute aU
friends, and embrace Signor Fabretti most af
fectionately, assuring you of my love.
Your true friend,
S. Rosa.
Rome, October 16, 1652.
A letter from Sig. Cespini * has appeared
here extremely clever ; and as it is fuU of my
praises, pray thank him for it in my name.
* A Knight of San Stephano, and Professor of Law at
Pisa.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 263

LETTER V.

Gracious heaven ! I can scarcely believe that
the letter received by this post is yours, after
the six posts that have come in without bringing
me any such welcome favour, or even the ac
customed substitute of a letter from Signor
Cosimo. The curses I have bestowed upon
dame Comedy* have been most tremendous,
since it is she that has occasioned me this long
fast. I have, however, had some revenge;
since her tediousness has made her not a little
tiresome. This defect I learned, before your let
ter, from the accounts given me by the Canonico
da Scornio, my neighbour and an exceUent
gentleman. I wrote you lately a very long
letter under the usual cover of Signor Fabretti,
giving you a full account of my misfortunes,
* Ricciardi wrote several comedies, replete with much
humour.

264 LIFE AND TIMES
and of every thing that has happened in the
interval of your silence. Pray write to me,
and let me know if my letter has arrived safe,
and save me the annoyance of supposing it
has fahen into other hands.
You wUl have heard of the horrible infamies
of my enemies, who, under pretext of answer
ing the Satires, have played the spy upon my
privacy; but He who saw their intentions,
and is truth itself, has turned things differently
from their expectation; and so far so good.
If the letter has not already got into your
hands, use ah diligence to recover it.
But to return to ourselves: imagine your
friend all bile, spirit, and fire, as he is, suffer
ing such indignities ! ! However, I must stiU
strive to wear the mask of contempt and of
patience, by considering that their fire is of
straw, and that mine is asbestos.
My obligations to Signor CamUlo Rubiera
are great indeed : he is a gentleman of consum
mate worth; and I grieve, on such occasions,

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 265
that my fortune is not equal to my spirit, but I
must have patience, for I can now do no better ;
and only rest in the hope, that through the
hberahty of my friends I may be able to repay
such benefits. Great God! what experience
has not my adversity afforded me, in discover
ing the attachment of some, whose souls I httle
dreamed harboured so much benevolence and
tenderness, and from whom I have reaped
miracles of kindness. On the other hand, some
there are whose swords I doubted not would
have flown from their scabbards in my de
fence, yet who, when I put them to the proof,
were silent as mutes. Pray heaven I may be
able to profit in the future by the lessons thus
taught in misfortune. But as God lives, I
must for ever say, that a more affectionate
heart than thine does not beat.
With respect to the designs for your scenes, I
wUl take care of you.* The wood pieces espe-
* If those were scenes for Ricciardi's private theatre,
how precious they would now be.

266 LIFE AND TIMES
daily I wiU do myself: for the rest, I hope you
will be contented, as I have this morning en
gaged a famous MUanese perspective painter to
do them. The landscape you might have next
week, but we must wait the leisure of the
other good man, that aU may go together.
Teh me if you go to Florence this summer,
which I should think a pleasanter abode than
Pisa. The Padre Cavahi has been here; and, after
much conversation, he told me, that " he knows
no one who is more my weU-wisher than Ric
ciardi, who speaks of me with infinite affection."
Judge what pleasure I receive on such an at
testation? You wUl hear from Signor Cor-
dini the wishes of Signor Volunnio, who urges
me to print, but who desires first to hear the
whole of my Satires read. Imagine to what a
length the kindness of an advocate, a friend of
mine extends ! He wishes to get my cause
before the Rota, in order, as he says, to immor
talize himsetf by so singular a case. I have,

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 267
however, dissuaded him from the enterprise, and
prevailed on him not to speak on the subject.
In truth he is an excellent person, and in the
high road to pre-eminence in that court: his
name is l'Avocato Serroni, my most devoted
friend. You do not send me the idea for a picture,
though I have asked it more than once. Do
not, I beg of you, faU me; as I must have
something ready for the ensuing festival.
I was exceedingly desirous that you should
have Gheradelh's tragedy, and that you should
agree with aU the world in admiring the defence,
even more than the work itself. It is really
worthy of a great man. Have you remarked my
design for the frontispiece, to which I did not
choose to put my name ? That infamous Schiera-
bandolo is now saying, that he wiU print
against the defence, in the teeth of that re
verence which ah men pay to the dead. With
this, and many affectionate remembrances, I
remain whoUy yours, praying you to salute our

268 LIFE AND TIMES
friends. Signora Lucrezia and Ursula do the
same by you. Your true friend, S. Rosa.
Rome, May — , 1654.

LETTER VI.
I am happy to learn that you are in Flo
rence, and that you are enjoying the society
of the most friendly of aU beings, the Signor
Cordini, whose conversation cannot fatt to be a
great comfort to you. Let me know if you
mean to spend the summer there ; and if
Signor Cosimo is with you.
On my own affairs I shaU not say a
word. It is sufficient to teU you, that peace
has been utterly banished from my mind on
account of those same blessed Satires, which,
ere I had commenced, I wish I had broken

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 269
my neck. Every thing continues to make me
miserable, in spite of aU the prudence and virtue
in the world. Two, however, of my enemies
have this week foresworn their persecution on
hearing my last composition.*
I am surprised that you do not mention
a visit you received at Pisa, from a certain
Canonico Perrucaf, a relation of Scornio's; for
I know that he talks much of me and of my
Satires, and that on his return to Rome there
was much questioning of him, (when it was
known that he came from Pisa,) concerning
your talents, manner of composition, &c.
In one word, if I do not now die of de7
spair, no man that ever lived, did so ! J
The designs for the scenes you shaU have
immediately — I mean for those which I was to
make: I wait only tiU the perspective scene
is finished, which I shah have this week from
* " L'Invidia." t A Canon of Pisa.
J In allusion to the persecutions he was undergoing
on account of his Satires.

270 LIFE AND TIMES
the hands of the best artist in that hne. By
the next post I wUl send every thing together.
If I alone had been concerned in this affair, it
should have been done long ago.
I do not mean to force or to persuade
you in the business of Volterra : it is my duty
to obey your wishes, and to seek only your
satisfaction ; and this I promise that I wUl do.
I am waiting with great anxiety for your idea
for the picture ; but I am aware that I have
already written to you frequently on this
subject. I wUl copy the Capitolo of Metosi* on
the back of this letter to obey you. Pray let
me know how long you intend to stay in
Florence ? I think on the score of health you
had better spend the summer there than in
Pisa. Give me some intelligence of Signor
Giuho, as I cannot get an answer to any of my
letters to him : I know not, indeed, whether he
be ahve or dead. * A humorous poet.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 271
For the rest, I commend myself to you ; as
suring you that my greatest consolation lies in
the reflection that I enjoy your friendship.
Commend me, &c. &c. ; I kiss your hand.
Your true friend,
S. Rosa.
Rome, June 13, 1654.

LETTER VII.
How you have set my mouth watering
with the account of your visit to Carfagnana,
and your enjoyment of the wood scenery of that
country, so congenial to my nature ! I swear to
you, that I have not known happiness since I
passed Monte Rufoh and Barbajana ; and yet
these are nothing to the country of which you
speak. In short, I never think of it without sad
ness, which is a proof that it afforded no ordinary
occupation of mind, and health to the body.
But let us turn to another subject : the very

272 LIFE AND TIMES
thought of this affects me even to tears. As
to the httle viha you offer me, I agree with you
that it is a great prerogative to be master of
a spot of one's own ; but then the vicinity of
this to other habitations, spoils its beauty in my
eyes, and the want of wood alone is sufficient
to render every place imperfect in my esti
mation. How grieved I am for the misfortunes of
Signor Leoh ! I feel in my heart for his afflic
tion : I beg you wUl make my compliments to
him and to the rest of your amiable circle, I
shaU say nothing of the Canonico : it is sufficient
for me that Bertoldino alone is in the comedy,
and plays him such tricks, that they say he is
determined either to return home or to go to
France. If Signor Lancia has the same success
in parts of this description, I shaU be made up
for the festivals* For some weeks past I have
* It appears from this, that Salvator was still a drama
tic amateur, and occasionally performed in the private
theatricals at Rome during the Carnival.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 273
been amusing myself with etching in aqua-fortis.
In good time you shaU see the results ; but it
has not been my good fortune to reserve this
employment for the sohtudes of Strozzavolpe,
as I had intended. I shah keep other things,
however, in store to work on when the dove
shaU return to its resting-place.* In the mean
whUe, remember that years are advancing, and
that many disasters, which can be cheerfully
supported in youth, are not so easUy endured
in age. I do not say this to urge you ; since
I would fain beheve that you have the same
inclination that I have to avoid my losing alto
gether the httle hope which remains to me in
these matters. Compliments to Signor Cosimo
and to your sister for me, and from the Signora
Lucrezia. I embrace you with aU my heart.
Your true friend,
S. Rosa.
Rome, November 20, 1660.
* An allusion to his meditated visit to his favourite
Strozzavolpe.
VOL.11. T

274 LIFE AND TIMES

LETTER VIII.
Before I commence this letter I have consigned
the packet to the courier for Florence, directed
to the care of Signor Simon Torrigiani, in the
post-office at Florence, for Signor Giov. Battista
Ricciardi at Pisa : with the httle picture you
wiU find the sketch of Polycrates in two pieces,
which was designed at Strozzavolpe, — that of
Alexander with Diogenes, Philolaus, and two
others, (that is to say, one of Democritus, which
is imperfect, and its companion Diogenes part
ing with his Cup,*) — ah exceUently done, in the
same manner as you directed.
With respect to your two pictures, your
account of the place they are to occupy hap
pens to be most opportune. As to that which
you desire for your friend, the painters who
do floAvers moderately well are gone to Turin.
* These are designs for etchings by Rosa.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 275
There are some here who work better, but their
prices are too high for this meridian ; and with
such gentry I wUl have nothing to do.
As to landscapes and animals, here is nothing
that pleases me — I- mean on the score of price,
although there are enough to surfeit you.
I am sorry your house does not answer, and
that you are obhged to inhabit the attic. This
will force you to repair the roof, before you
commence what you have proposed.
I am dehghted that you were never more
free from your defluxion. I trust in Christ
that it wiU disappear altogether, and leave you
quite weU. The remedy of not applying to
study is the true panacea after aU, the only
means of preserving yourself; so pray keep to
it. Don't forget to embrace Signor Cosimo in
my name, and to present compliments to all
in your house ; and remember me gratefully
to aU your friends. Farfanicchio *, Signora
* A nom de cares.se bestowed by him on his little son
Agosto, who was now nine years old.
T 2

276 LIFE AND TIMES
Lucrezia, and myself, aU kiss your hands affec
tionately. Your true friendr S. Rosa.
Rome, 11th March, 1662.

LETTER IX.
I could not give you any account of
my return from Loretto tttl this day. I
arrived here on the sixth of May. I was for
fifteen days in perpetual motion ! The journey
was beyond aU description curious and pic
turesque ; much more so than is the route
from hence to Florence. There is a strange
mixture of savage wUdness and of domestic
scenery, of plain and precipice, such as the
eye delights to wander over. I can safely
swear to you, that the tints of these moun
tains by far exceed aU I have ever observed
under your Tuscan skies ; and as for your

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 277
Verucola, which I once thought a dreary
desert, I shah henceforth deem it a fair garden,
in comparison with the scenes I have now ex
plored in these Alpine sohtudes. O God !
how often have I sighed to possess, how
often since called to mind, those solitary her
mitages which I passed on my way! — How
often wished that fortune had reserved for me
such a destiny ! I went by Ancona and
Sorolo, and on my return visited Assisa; aU
sites of extraordinary interest to the genius of
painting. I saw at Terni (four mttes out of
the high road) the famous waterfall of the
Velino ; an object to satisfy the boldest imagi
nation, by its terrific beauty. A river dashing
down a mountainous precipice of nearly a mUe
in height, and then flinging up its foam to
nearly an equal altitude I Beheve, that whUe
on this spot I moved not, saw not, without
bearing you full in my memory and mind !
Send me an account of your health, and of
aU that concerns you; and forget not to em-

278 LIFE AND TIMES
brace Signor Cosimo, and to make my remem
brances to aU, even to the very cats ! A hun
dred, nay, a thousand salutations to our friends.
With every good wish, I embrace you affec
tionately. Your true friend,

Rome, 13th May, 1662.

S. Rosa.

LETTER X.
I received your second envelope, which I for
warded hke the other, but without having the
good fortune to consign it to Signor Conti's
own hands, whom I have never been able to
see. As you say, nothing wUl be done to the
purpose, unless by means of money. In this,
however, I am not to blame ; for I have told
him I was ready to disburse whatever sum he
demanded. Some days ago, a certain priest caUed on me,

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 279
and told me he had ten scudi to pay me, which,
I suppose, is the money which you informed me
Signor Marcantonio had remitted to Rome for
this affair. I refused to take them, telhng him,
that when the money was demanded of me, I
would then take it from him ; and so there the
thing rests. To teU you the truth, I do not
hke this business being in the hands of Bri-
gritti : he is a bad subject, and of a bad repu
tation. But since Signor Conti, whom you
esteem, has chosen him, I shaU say nothing
about it ; more especiahy, as I am in these
matters a very Bertoldino, and abhor the name
of a lawsuit.
I have finished the two pictures on which I
was employed : the subjects are spick and
span new and untouched, covering a canvass of
eight palms in length. I have painted Pythagoras
on the sea-shore, fohowed by his sect, in the
act of redeeming a net of fish, which the fisher
men are drawing to the shore, in order to re
store them to their hberty:— the story is from

280 LIFE AND TIMES
Plutarch. The other is the same personage,
who, after having passed a year in a subter
ranean abode, returns to a crowd of men and
women of his own sect, who are waiting his
arrival, and teUs them he has been in Hell,
where he has seen the ghosts of Homer and
Hesiod, and a thousand other follies suited to
the creduhty of the times. These works I
have executed, in order to their exhibition at
the festival of San Giovanni DecoUato. I
will not faU to inform you of their success.
If in your reading you meet with any such
subjects, pray note them, for they have great
success. For the rest, I salute Signor Cosimo
and his wife, with ah the famUy ; more espe-
ciaUy my friend Salvatorino *, for myself, for
Signora Lucrezia, and for Farfanicchio.
Your true friend,
S. Rosa.
Rome, 29th July, 1662.
* His godson.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 281

LETTER XI.

It is whoUy superfluous to remind me
of my last year's residence at Strozzavolpe.
There passes not a day of my hfe in which my
heart fails to celebrate in solemn commemo
ration even the most trifling incident that oc
curred there, and with no faint anguish, from the
contrast of my present situation. The minutest
particulars are recorded only to torment me ;
and I often chide Augustus, ^vho remembers
every thing, for embittering my memory by re
viving its impressions, especiaUy in the present
month, which was last year so pregnant with
enjoyment. — But let us talk of something else.
The festival of San Giovanni was, on many ac
counts, most solemnly observed. The task of
preparation feU upon the house of Sacchetti, and
the distribution of the pictures consequently
on Pietro da Cortona, who is their dependent.
There were exposed a vast many old pic-

282 LIFE AND TIMES
tures, as these noblemen got the flower of
the most celebrated Roman gaUeries on the
occasion. Besides my two pictures of Pytha
goras, I had another larger one of " Jeremiah,"
who being thrown into prison by the king of
Judah for predicting the destruction of Jeru
salem, was restored to liberty at the prayer
of the eunuch Ebedmelech. There were in it
thirteen figures, as large as life. There were also
two other pictures ; of which, as they were not
painted for this exhibition, I shaU say nothing.
And so much for the festival of San Giovanni !
I have lately read the life of Apohonius,
written by PhUostratus, with very great plea
sure, from its singularity ; but I have not found
in it that sort of stuff, that imagery, which
would paint weU, and of which you spoke : —
for this there should be some concentrated
point of action. Pray, therefore, recommend
me something else, in which I may find some
incident out of the common, something which
I may employ to the purpose.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 283
Of the Pasticcio I remember nothing ; but,
as you think it may succeed, I have nothing
more to say. If it wiU bear the expense of
coming and going, and you are contented, so
am I.
Of the news of the day, I have not a word to
tell you : that which is of pubhc import, you
already know by pubhc report.
Respecting Signor Marcantonio's lawsuit, I
do not know what has been done ; for since I
have paid Signor Conti the four scudi, I have
seen nothing of him ; and I, as aU the world
knosvs, never leave the Monte-di-Trinita.
I go into town only when it is indispensably
necessary. The engravings are admired and much
sought after, and are getting abroad into aU
parts. I have two great copper-plates pre
pared ; but cannot bring myself to begin them,
from the recoUection of the labour bestowed on
those of last year.
Heaven knows how I grieved for the loss of

284 LIFE AND TIMES
the boy*, both on account of Signor Cosimo's
affliction and his wife's : but I comfort myself
that the model is stiU vigorous — " Oh, blessed
are they who," &c. &c. &c.
Do not faU in writing to Signor Giacomo and
to Signor Minuccif , to salute them in my name,
as weU as to all our respected friends.
I come back once more to my request, that
you wiU be diligent in seeking some good sub
ject for a picture in the course of your readings.
The Signora Lucrezia, Augusta, and myself,
aU kiss your hands affectionately.
Salutation to aU your famUy.
Your true friend,
S. Rosa.
Rome, 16th September, 1662.
* Rosalvino, his godson, before alluded to.
t Paolo Minucci wrote a comment on the Malmantile
and was Salvator's host, during the pleasant visit to Flo
rence, so often recorded.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 285

LETTER XII.

I write but four lines, to give you some
tidings of myself, and to throw you into utter
confusion for your total neglect of giving me
your own, which, you know, is what I most
desire in life.
I had great pleasure in learning that Bru
netti has been with you, and that he satisfied
in part your curiosity.
At the feast of St. John this year, I have
exposed my great picture, (the figures as large
as life,) taken from the history of the Catilina-
rian Conspiracy*, and done hteraUy from the
description of SaUust. It was excessively
admired by the judges. I share my triumphs
with you, as one should do with such a friend
as you are ! For the rest, send me news of
* This picture, so long the principal treasure of the
Casa Mentelli, is now in the Pitti palace of Florence.

286 l^IFE ANO TIMES
your health; and beheve, that nothing lives
more warmly in my memory than the con
sciousness of your affection. God preserve
you! Your true friend, S. Rosa.
Rome, 8th September, 1663.

LETTER XIII.
I am steeped deep in amazement, that
such a mind as your's should have left it till
this day to discover the worth and the temper
of Salvator Rosa on the subject of friendship.
But if aU is not a jest, I must beheve that the
freedom with which you attack me proceeds
from no other source, than that you consider
me under particular obligations to you. If this
were so, I should stiU only endure such free
dom to the extent of what might be justifiable.
I beg to remind you, that neither you nor I are
gods ; that you are but a man (a great man,

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 287
indeed, in my estimation) ; but that I do not
choose to be regarded as a mere nonentity*
in the estimation of others.
So then, for having told you that I would not
put more than twoor three figures in your picture,
you think ft. worth while to make this uproar —
this foolish and imprudent quarrel ? But to clear
myself of an imputed fault, of which I could never
have be enguUty : — " Chiano, chiano\" as the
Neapohtans say. Now, supposing that, instead of
two or three figures, I had restricted myself to
one, I should have thought, Ricciardi, that even
that one, coming from my hand, might have con
tented you, and have had sufficient merit to be a
companion not only to your ridiculous Bam-
bocciato, but ('fore God) even for the finest pic
ture of the first-rate painter of the day. I
confess that I do not understand your cabals,
* The term in the original is Cetrivolo, which has in
Neapolitan idiom a signification which would not lite
rally translate to answer the sense.
f Piano, piano! "softly, softly!"

288 LIFE AND TIMES
nor conceive what more you could expect than
simply a picture of my painting ; and in this, if
I am to blame, as you declare, you should not
have begged the execution of one in three several
letters, as you know very weU was the case.
But since my destiny forces me to enter into
apologetic explanations with you, (which I never
could have imagined), I must teU you, that for
some time back I have felt a great exhaustion and
lassitude in painting, and that to avoid a total
disgust to the art, I choose only facUe subjects,
which do not keep me long at the easel, and
that I seldom exceed the number of figures I
stipulated for with you; if in this, you choose
to use your ordinary mode of interpretation, and
to attribute aU to my extreme fault, you must
give me leave to abate something of the opinion
I have hitherto entertained of your high-
mindedness. Observe me, Ricciardi: if our
contest were confined to mere questions of lite
rature, I would most readily be brought to
yield to you ; but when it comes to your treat-

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 289
ing me as an ingrate, as a man of narrow and
calculating spirit, I shall shew my teeth — if
not to bite, at least to defend myself; and it
wUl be no difficult matter to prove the falsity
of your accusation, since I am sufficiently
known, if not to you, at least to the rest of the
world. I confess, that since we have known each
other, you never so much displeased me as in
this instance ; and I never could have imagined
that such a friend as I have deemed you, could
have offended me in a point on which I am
confident I deserve infinite praise.
To a painter of my class and unfettered
genius, (the size of a picture excepted) every
thing should be left at liberty, (and so I should
have acted by you in such a contingency) ; not
presuming to teach the initiated, but consulting
in every thing the genius of the painter, and
beheving confidently that any trifle from a clas
sical hand is worth the consideration of a con
noisseur. Must I remind you, that a single
VOL. II. v

290 LIFE AND TIMES
verse of Homer is worth a whole poem of
Choerilus ! For the present I have done, that
I may not excite your wrath, as you have
roused mine. Great God! did ever man behold
a more egregious piece of foUy than this, to
judge of a painter and a friend, by the number
of figures he puts in a picture !
Reserve, reserve, I beseech you, my friend,
these cavilling punctilios for your criticisms on
my poetry, and not for my heart, which, with
respect to you at least, is without sin ; and if
you are angry at this letter, as it affords a spe
cimen of sovereign indignation and freedom of
spirit, I must only promise you for the future
to flatter you in your absurdities up to your
bent. I salute aU the family, and embrace you
with all my soul. Your true friend,
S. Rosa.
Rome, June 6, 1664.

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 291

LETTER XIV.
You are very simple to believe that I
have apphed myself to amassing money, espe
ciaUy in the present times, when every good
Christian turns his money often in his pocket
before he parts with it. He who has crammed
you with this tale either wishes me weU, or
dreams that I am so. For the first, I thank
him ; and for the second, I am sorry it is not
true. AU my riches, my dear Ricciardi,
amount to three or four coin, laid by in
cotton. Seriously, business is entirely laid
aside, owing to the rumours of a war; and,
consequently, aU my httle emoluments, which
were drawn from it, are stopped for the pre
sent. It is true, I have to the value of a
thousand scudi in pictures finished, of which
I can seU one now and then with great diffi
culty. As for commissions, there is not even a
dog to order a picture ; if the war goes on, I
v 2

292 LIFE AND TIMES
may even plant my pencil in my garden ! and
this is ah my secret of money-making, at your
service ' However, let those believe me wealthy
who will. I go on spotting a httle paper,
merely to keep my purse alive ; and even on
these engravings I am obliged to pay the new
tax. My dear friend, all riches should be
placed in the mind, and in being contented to
sip where others revel in prosperity. If I
could sell all my pictures, I would laugh at
Croesus ; but this will take time.
I am sorry for your bad vintage: in this, your
quahty of poet is against you.
Farfanicchio salutes you, and talks of you
incessantly; and there is nothing so often
repeated at our fireside in this season as your
name. I beg of you all to love me, and to
beheve, what I must always repeat, that I have
not any thing more at heart than your welfare,
and so I kiss your hands.
Your true friend,
S. Rosa.
Rome, Jan. 2, 1664 (5?)

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 293
LETTER XV.
You are right to put me in mind, when I
have need of a remembrancer. I wholly forgot
the drawing of Philolaus when I was packing
up the others, and even had it before my eyes
at the time ! Pity me ; I was half out of my
wits on another subject — you shall hear of it
another time.
To satisfy you respecting the " pirn it" af
fixed to my engravings, I have done so out of
courtesy, and to make it beheved, that as I
engraved, so I coloured. But the truth is, that
from Attilius in the great, and Demosthenes
and Diogenes della Scodella of the middle-sized
pieces, none others were coloured by me, and
even those were done in whim, (as the Giants
for instance) merely to show what the colouring
was. But on this subject I should have to
write you a bible— not an holy bible, but a most
heterodox one ! I do not, however, know that

294 LIFE AND TIMES
I have acted from the generosity of my soul : I
rather think it is my infernal pride. Oh ! how
much are we obhged to those same Stoics, for
having taught us the most efficacious remedy
for ah human sufferings !
The dedications, Latin and Itahan, can be of
httle use ; but I wttl try to satisfy you.
I sent you by last post the hcence you asked
for : I hope it wttl arrive safe. Your manner of
speaking of the Valtehne (would that I were
with you !) has filled me with low spirits, by
bringing to my mind the divine sohtudes
of Strozzavolpe ! How I hate the sight of
every place that is inhabited !
For the relief of my mind, I am meditating
a journey. If I am able to reahze this scheme,
I wttl tell you : if not, it will vanish with my
other castles in the air.
For the rest, command me ; and beheve that
I hold nothing dearer or more precious to my
memory and heart than your friendship, and
the devotion I owe to my Lucrezia, who, with

OF SALVATOR ROSA, 295
Augustus, salutes you, as I embrace you most
affectionately. Your true friend,
S, Rosa,
Oct. 11, 1665.

LETTER XVI.
This miscarriage of letters wttl end some
fine day by overturning the httle brains I have
left. I have, I assure you, sent five letters
before the receipt of yours from Milan, which
has taken twelve years off my head ; and if it
had not arrived, I was on the point of strap
ping on my wallet and marching off. I might
at least have served as an overseer to the works
of your new edifice. AU this is a reason the
more to prove that you have found a treasure ;
and, as the Neapohtan proverb says,
" Let him who has money, build ; and him
who has a wind, put to sea"

296 LIFE AND TIMES
But what say you to my sight, which is
hourly dechning, so that I can scarcely read a
letter without holding it at a considerable
distance ? My head, however, does not other
wise suffer ; and I every day feel that the
absence of all thought was, and is, of the great
est service to me.
Last week, by special luck, I concluded my
bargain of the twenty scudi a month ; so that,
on that point, I have ho further anxiety. Ah
that may now be made wttl be so much more
added. I inform you of this, that (should oc
casion warrant) you may avail yourself of it.
Yesterday Augusto began to draw his first
hatt-eye. What he may turn out in this line
I leave to be inferred from the drawing itsett.
I salute you, as does Lucrezia, who, by-the-by,
is not in very good health. Here we have
Monsieur Poussin nearer to the other world
than this ; and my dear Signor Giulio Mar
telli also confined to his bed with a diseased
leg, and, what is stttl worse, with the weight of

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 297
seventy-three years on his shoulders. Heaven
relieve them both, and grant to you all the
good you richly merit ! Meantime, I esteem
and embrace you with all my heart.
Your true friend,

S. Rosa.

Rome, the last day of October, 1665.

LETTER XVII.
The commission of "your Signor ia" with
respect to the Padre Cavatti has been duly
executed, in conformity with your orders : and
now to answer your very minute questions.
In the first place, the " Attilius Regulus"
measures in breadth four palms and something
more, in length rather more than two palms
and a half. The price I received was an hun
dred piastres, placed under a Parmesan cheese,
sent to me in a box ; and for the aforesaid
picture I could since have had an hundred

298 LIFE AND TIMES
doubloons. Had I the same subject now to
paint, I would not take less than four hundred.
For the picture of the " Witches," it measures
two bracchie and a quarter in breadth, and
one and a half in length — perhaps a httle more.
The original price was fifteen doubloons : it is
now twenty years since I painted it. If Signor
Rossi would have parted with it, he might fre
quently have had four hundred scudi down :
at one time he had an offer of five hundred ! I
have prophesied, that when I shaU be no more,
it wttl bring a thousand — death sharpens curio
sity with respect to all things. The picture
is veiled by a silken curtain. And thus, with
my usual fidelity to your commands, I have
satisfied your curiosity on these points.
I have not yet painted the " Giants," nor the
" CEdipus;" the others are done. It is true,
however, that I have some thought of painting
those subjects. The Ambassador Priuli, during
his residence in Rome, had from me three
pictures, the one large and two middle-sized:

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 299
another (Ambassador) from Paris, has bespoke
four, with a very smaU one ; and this I beheve
is all the information your worship asks. Pray
add to this, that nothing French arrives at
Rome with any taste for the arts, that does not
procure some work of mine. With respect to
health, it goes on as tolerably as possible ; but
I must keep clear of the cold. As to going
to Venice, I am not at all certain it would
answer ; and for the present I commend my
self to the Destinies. I beg from my soul you
will recaU me to the Signori Minucci, Signorelli,
and Cordini. While I salute you with all the
tenderness which I owe you, the Signora Lu
crezia and Augusto embrace you with aU their
hearts. Your true friend,
S. Rosa.
Rome, December 15, 1666.

300 LIFE AND TIMES

LETTER XVIII.

Just as I had beheved that this dia
bolical season had passed away, here we have
four days as bad as ever ! The cold of this
year is so unusuaUy severe, that I have more
than once thought I should give up the ghost !
My head (which in the great heats is quite
disordered) in this rigorous cold is so affected,
that I sometimes fear I shaU drop down all'
improvviso, and I am ready to bid good night to
ray wits, with a " to our merry meeting at the
pit of Acheron !" I have suffered two months
of intense pain in the head, even with all possible
attention to my regimen of chicken broth. My
feet are two perpetual lumps of ice, with all
the benefit to be derived from woollen stock
ings which I sent for to Venice. In my own
apartments the fire is never extinguished ; and,
more assiduous about my sensations than even
the Cavaliere Cicogli was, there is not a crevice

or sai.vAtoi: rosa. 301
ivi my house that I do not carefully stop up
myself, and yet I cannot keep myself warm ; nor
do I beheve that the torch of Love, nor even
the caresses of a Phrync, would produce that
effect. I talk of any thing but my pencil. My
canvass hes turned to the watt ! and my colours
are att, and for ever, dried up ! In a word, I
think of nothing but chimney-corners, braziers,
warming-pans, muffles, wooUen gloves, woollen
stockings, weU-hned caps, and such sort of
gear ! In fact, dear friend, I find that my
wonted ardours are extinct : and what is equally
true, is, that I now pass whole days in silence,
and that that fire once all my own, and which
blazed so brightly, has now totahy evaporated !
Woe unto me, my friend, if I were now
reduced to earn a subsistence by my pencil !
I should die in harness, or give up the trade
altogether. If vou ask me how I spend my days during
the winter months ? I answer, when the wea
ther is serene, in wandering forth alone, like a

302 LIFE AND TIMES
maniac, and visiting all the most solitary places
of this region ; but when the weather is bad,
I shut myself up in the house, pacing my room
hke one frenzied, or else I take up a book, or
listen to the conversation of others rather than
talk myself.
Not a week passes in which orders for
pictures do not reach me ; and to such an
extent, that all are now crying out against me.
But let them cry : none but the wearer can
know where the shoe pinches !
But let us talk of less melancholy matters.
I have had our worthy Signor Francesco (who
lives in our neighbourhood) with me this morn
ing for two hours. He was occupied in finishing
a landscape, and I helped him in many parti
culars upon this as upon other similar occa
sions. I desired him to remember, that he has
always the privilege of claiming my services
since he comes recommended by you.
His manners do not displease me : his vocation
in the art is indisputable, provided he applies

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 303
hunself with dttigence, and that he is not too
easily pleased with what he has done. He
salutes you affectionately, and complains that
he no longer receives any letters from you,
which I also may repeat.
Last week the Signor Cavaliere Fabroni
came to me, with the intention of absenting
himself (from the amateur theatricals) for this
time. He, however, changed his intention, and
recited the part of Pasquttla, in some comedies
which were acted in the palace of the Lord
Constable (di Colonna): he recited all' improv
viso. We both talked much of you, and of
those divine times, (now so long passed away)
enjoyed on the banks of the Arno !
Pray give me some account of your health.
— I do not say of your fortune, which I know
to be always the same. TeU me if you are
writing any plays ? How does the Signor
Cosimo ?
The Signora Lucrezia and Augusto both
desire to unite in offering you their respects.

304 LIFE AND TIMES
In the ensuing season, prepare yourself to
receive us ; I have no longer the patience to
defer my visit. Should you want money in
the mean time, remember I have always
enough for you; and so I embrace you with
all my heart. Your true friend,
S. Rosa.
Rome, January 26, 1666.

LETTER XIX.
I write to you on my return from the valley
of Jehosaphat; that is, after the exhibition of
San Giovanni DecoUato, for such this festival
has been to me this year. A brother of a
Pope, with his four sons, have pleased to enter
themselves as novices into this company (of
San Giovanni); and in order to extinguish ah
hope, in every one who may hereafter exhibit
his works on the occasion of this festival, they

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 305
have actuaUy spoliated the finest gaUeries in
Rome of their most superb pictures, for the
exhibition ; and particularly the celebrated col
lection of the Queen of Sweden, which alone
were sufficient to intimidate the very devil
himself. The primary motive of their lordships' acting
in this manner is, simply to exclude the works
of ah living artists from the exhibition. This
intention on their parts was sufficient to deter
mine me on mine, to enter the lists ; and I
finally obtained (though not without some
trouble,) that I alone of all living artists should
be permitted to compete with the mighty dead.
I swear to you, my dear friend, that I never
was so wound up to any enterprize before ; and
as so great an occasion might never again occur
for distinguishing myself, I have laid aside every
other engagement, that I might start freely for
the prize which fame may stttl have in reserve
for me. I now give you to understand (that you
may rejoice with me,) that I was able to raise
VOL. II. x

306 LIFE AND TIMES
my head, even in the midst of all these Achttles
of the art of painting. As I know you wttl
desire to learn what were the subjects of
my pictures, I inform you, that one was the
story of "Saul," taken at that moment when
the Witch conjures up the spirit of the pro
phet Samuel to commune with the King. This
picture is twelve palms in height and nine in
width. The other (nine palms high and five wide),
represented St. George in the act of triumphing
over the vanquished Dragon : and these are my
excuses, dear friend, that I have not been able
to write to you.
For the rest, your embarrassments wound
my very soul ; and I shall never cease to repeat
to you, that if you want pecuniary assistance
my purse is ever fuh, when you have occa
sion to use it, without your thanks being
required. It grieves me to learn that Cesti intends trans
porting himself to Venice, a place which he

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 307
ought to shun hke the plague, that he may not
revive the recoUection of those events of which
he was the cause. Remember me to Signor
Cosimo ; and salute att our friends for me,
while I embrace you with all my heart.
Your true friend, S. Rosa.
Rome, September 15, 1668.

LETTER XX.
Ring out the bells ! at last after thirty years
residence in Rome, of hopes blasted and com
plaints vainly reiterated against men and gods,
the occasion is accorded me for giving one
altar-piece to the pubhc. The Signor Fehppo
Nerh, (the Pope's Depositario) resolved upon
vanquishing the obstinacy of my destiny, has
endowed a chapel in the church of San Giovanni
x 2

308 LIFE AND TIMES
de' Fiorentini ; and in despite of the stars them
selves, he has determined that / shaU paint the
altar-piece! It is now five months since I
began it, and I had only just laid it aside, with
the intention of taking it up after Lent, when
the occurrence of the Festa, which the Floren
tines are obhged to celebrate here, in this
church, on the canonization of the Santa Made-
lena dei Pazzi, obhged me to continue to work
at it, and to shut myself up in my house, where
for this month and a haU> I have been suffering
agonies, lest I should not have my picture
finished in time for their festival. This occu
pation has kept me secluded, not only from ah
epistolary commerce, but from every other in the
world ; and I can truly say, that I have so far
forgotten myself, as even to neglect to eat. So
arduous, indeed, has been my apphcation that
when I had nearly finished my work, I was
obhged to keep my bed for two days ; and had
not my recovery been assisted by emetics, certain
it is that it would have been aU over with me, in

OF SALVATOR ROSA. 309
consequence of some obstruction in the stomach.
Pity me, then, dear friend, if, for the glory of
my pencil, I have neglected to devote my pen
to the service of friendship.
I have now been for two days back occupied
on my picture of Saint Turpin : whenever it is
finished, you shah be duly informed. In the
midst of all this, give me your good wishes !
Expect to see us once more ; for it is an event
I have no longer spirit to defer.
The Signora Lucrezia, who is far from weU,
and Augusto, who is not much better, desire to
salute you, and anxiously desire to see you.
They are still daily occupied in recalling the
delightful days passed at Strozzavolpe. Kiss
the hands of Signor Fabbretti in my name,
while I embrace you with all my soul.
Your true friend,
S. Rosa.
P. S. The Doctor Ohva salutes you.
Rome, 11th October, 1669.

APPENDIX.
CONTENTS.
CANTATA.
MUSIC. ORIGINAL LETTERS.
CATALOGUE of PICTURES.

CANTATA DEL
SALVATOR ROSA.
With a Fragment of the original Music, authenticated by
Dr. Burncy.
Non a tregua ne fine il duolo mio.
Ricordati Fortuna che son nel mondo,
E son di carne anch' io.
Venne solo alia vita
Per stentar e partir,
Sudar da cane ;
E tra pene infinita
Speme non ho d' assicurarmi un pane.
Per me sol si vede sordo il ciel,
Scuro il sol, secca la terra,
Ov'io di pace ho fede
Cote porta il gran diavolo la guerra.

314 CANTATA.
S' io fo' 1' bucato piove ;
S'io metto il pie nel mare,
II mar s'adira.
Se andasse all' Indie Nove
Non vale il mio testone piu d'una lira.
Non vado al macellaro,
Benche avessi a comprar di carne un grosso,
Che per destino avaro
Non mi pesi la carne al par dell' osso.
S' io vo a palazzo a sorte,
L' anticamera ognor mi mostra a dito ;
I satrapi di corte
Con le lingue mi trinciano il vestito.
Son di fede Cristiano
E mi bisogna credere a l'Ebreo,
Sallo il Ghetto Romano
E il guardarobba mio Ser Mardocheo,
Non ci tregua, &c.
S' io son desto, o nel letto
Sempre ho la mente stivalata e varia,
Senz' esser architetto
Fabbrico tutto il di castelli in aria.

CANTATA. 315
Villa non ho ne stanza,
Altri an d' argento in fin' a 1' orinale,
Ricco son di speranza,
E per fede commisso ho 1' ospidale.
Ma di grazia osservate,
Quando si sente un caldo dell' inferno,
In mezzo dell' estade
Io marcio col vestito dell' inverno.
Suol dir, chi a da mangiare,
Che i commodi e i quattrini,
Alfin son sogni che dolce minchionare
Haver pari 1' entrate a' suoi bisogni.
Oh Dio ! son pur pittore,
Ne posso figurarmi un miglior sogno !
Sto sempre d'un colore,
Ne mi riesce mai alcun disegno.
Legni Iberi e Francese,
Col nocchiero pennello a 1' onde io spalmo,
Dono ad altri i paesi,
In tempo ch'io non 6 di terra un palmo.
Non so che sia Fortuna,
Pago a prezzo di stenti un di felice ;
Non ho sostanza alcuna
E ch'io speri, e ch'io soffri, ognun mi dice.

316 CANTATA
Crcdete al vostro Rosa,
Che senza versi c pitture
II mondo e bello ; e la piu sana cosa
In questi tempi e non aver cervello.

Ve le diro piu chiare,
Hoggi il saper piu non si stima un fico.
Da me ciascuno impare
Che assai meglio e morir ch' esser mendico.
Nona tregua, &c. &c. &c.

STAR VICINO

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LETTERE
AL SIG. DOTT. GIO. BATISTA RICCIARDI.*
Si conosce, che voi avete indisposizione negli occhi,
mentre giudicate si male della pittura. Povero
Albano, che quaudo crede d' esser giunto nell' ultima
perfezione deir arte, il Ricciardi, vedendo una sua
pittura, dice non aver visto mai peggio ! Or va :
cambia un paesino piccolo di mia mano per un qua-
dretto d' un uomo cosl famoso, con isperanza, che il
Ricciardi, come non professore di pittura, e come
poco sano degli occhi, non solamente 1' avesse a non
disprezzare, ma in qualche cosa a piacerli ! Bisogna
stare in cervello, perche voi ne sapete piu di me, Sig.
Metrodoro mio savio e gentile. Ma che non vi

* Lettore di Filosofia Morale nell' Universita di Pisa, e poeta
alloia celebre. 11 Rosa avea barattato con un quadro dell'
Albano, un proprio paese f'atto pel Ricciardi.

3 1 8 LETTERE.
piacciano le tre farfalle, o quest' 6 troppa severita,
qual1 io confesso non intenderla, e per questo parle-
remo d1 altro, rimettendomi in tutto, e per tutto al
vostro gusto, giacch& vi veggo cosi lontano daU'opi-
nione che la maggior parte hanno di questo uomo.
Un' altra volta vi prometto di non cascare in quest'
errore, giacche mi ditedi stimar piu le cose mie.
Vi do nuova d' aver gia venduti i due miei quadri
grandi all' Imbasciatore di Venezia, cavaliere di stra-
ordinaria compitezza, il quale venendomi a visitare,
si sforzo far di me quella stima non ancora espressa
con parole da boeca di personaggio simile, a segno
tale, che m'obbligo a dargli i due miei quadri alia
prima sua offerta, che da un suo gentiluomo, e mio
conoscente mi fece fare. II pagamento fu di ducati
300, il qual prezzo, tuttoche non sia a proporzione
della fatica de' miei quadri, e pero vantaggioso a' miei
fini. Vi supplico dunque, occorendovi detta somma di
denaro, a prevalervene con quella liberta e schiettezza
d' animo, con la quale ve 1'ofFerisco, avendovi piu
d1 una volta detto, che non ho cosa in questo mondo,
che a par te> con voi non 1' abbia; e se voi non lo fate,

LETTERE. 319
credero sempre, che voi crediate, che lo dica per
complimento. Ricciardi, chi v' ha consacrato tutto il suo arbi trio,
e tutto il suo affetto, deve ancora offerirvi ogni sua
sostanza. La Canzone, se me la manderete, mi sara cara,
perche e parto del vostro ingegno, ma per dirvela con
schiettezza, in sentir Cascina* mi vien voglia di cacare,
non essendo soggetto questo da cantar fra i Volunni
Bandinelli, e Salvador Rosa. Intendetemi sanamente.
Qui le vampe Nemee si vanno preparando bes-
tialissimamente, e per certo che sempre mi confesso
piu minchione a voler fare l1 estate a Roma. Ma voi
avete colpa di ogni inconveniente, ed a suo tempo me
ne pagherete il no. Saluto tutti codesti signori, e mi
farete grazia dire al Sig. Lanfreducci, che io di gia
l'ho servito, avendo fatto copiare le due arie chiestemi,
ma che resta che l1 amico venga per esse, conforme
restammo d1 accordo, essendo tra di noi una distanza di
tre miglia. Del resto non ho altre nuove, che piu mi
consolino, che sentire, che state bene di salute.
* Al Rosa dispiaceva, che dopo che il Ricciardi gli avea
indirizzata una sua canzone, ne indirizzasse una al Cascina.

320 LETTERE.
La Sig. Lucrezia, e Orsola vi abbracciano in mia
compagnia. Questo di 6 di Luglio, 1652.
Di V. S. Amico vero,
S. ROSA.

LETTEIIA II,
Fui breve nello scrivervi la settimana passata, e mi
converra esser tale ancora per tutto il mese di Settem-
bre, che seguira, forzato dall' impegno, che sentirete.
Monsignor Corsini eletto Nunzio di Francia, dopo
avere specolato in che avesse potuto dare per rega-
lare quella corona al suo arrive cola, risolse la setti
mana passata1, ch' io li facessi una Battaglia grande,
la qual sara per V appunto della misura del Baccanale,
ch' io feci, che voi sapete ; ciot! di quattordici palmi di
lunghezza, e nove di altezza. E perche non v1 e altro
tempo che quaranta giorni, dovendo detto Monsi
gnore partire per la fine del mese di Settembre, e sapen-
do, che nessun altro pittore 1' avrebbe potuto servire
nel ristretto di cosi pochi giorni, ed oltre a questo
incontrarsi ad applicare ne' presenti caldi d' Agosto, ha
chiusi gli occhi al prezzo dimandatone di dugento

LETTERE. 321
doble il meno ; ed io alFincontro volontieri ho abbrac-
ciata l'occasione, si per il prezzo ottimo, come per
T onorevolezza, la quale non puo esser maggiore, ve-
dendo, che un mio quadro si spicca da una Roma per
regalo ad un Re di Francia. Ma sentite quest'1 altra.
II Nunzio eletto per Spagna, il quale e Monsignor
Gaetano, m' avrebbe dato cinquecento scudi dei due
miei quadri de' Filosofi, se in quest1 accidente fussero
stati in mio potere, per portarli a donare al Re di
Spagna. Or che ne dite, amico ? Non s' avanza nella
gloria ? non si cresce nella riputazione ed opinion dell'
arte? Pero, amico, vi prego a compatirmi, se fra
questo mentre saro breve nello scrivervi, atteso che
ho lo capo cosi pieno di stragi, e rumori, che sembro
un' Aletto.
Oh quanto m' e giunto nuovo l1 avviso degli scialac-
quamenti del vostro fratello, al quale mi saria con-
fessato a ginocchi scoverti; ma quel che importa e,
che sia successo questo con danno del vostro patri
monio, il quale a me displace sino all' anima. Spero
pero, che il vostro non sia per mancarvi. In ogni
caso, Ricciardi mio, son qui per voi, e vi giuro che
mentre avro un giulio, sara mezzo vostro ; pero state
allegro, e ridete in faccia alia disgrazia. Adesso ne
VOL. II. Y

322 LETTERE.
incachiamo i Cresi, e i Cecili, e tanto basta, essendo io
in anima e.in corpo tutto vostro.
Vi ridico, che voi errate a supporre, che V ovatino non
sia mano dell' Albano, ma di qualche Romanesco,
poiche e piu certo, che sia mano sua; ma perche e
delle cose ultime fatte con gl1 Incomodi della vecchiaja.
Bisogna aver pacienza : il quale quadretto, tuttoche
non sia di quel gusto, ch' io lo vorrei, son sicuro perd,
che In questo paese non ci sara nessuno, che lo sapra,
fare migliore. Ma perchfe io non voglio disputar con
voi di pittura per adesso, mi riserbero a rifarvi qual
che cosa del mio, e ripigliarmelo. Volete altro, Sig.
Coccia ?
In quanto alia Battaglia delle tre braccia e mezzo, e
due d' altezza, che voi m1 accennate ch' io vi dica il
prezzo ; vi diro con la liberta solita il mio sentimento.
Voi gia credo, che sapete la repugnanza, che io ho in
si fatto genere di pittura, atteso che questo e il mio
luogo topico di superar quanti pittori mi vogliono dar
di naso, oltre alla straordinaria fatica che ci vuole.
Pero se vi preme, potrete dire a codesto amico, che per
vostro amore non li faro spendere piu di trecento
scudi ; dichiarandomi, che quando non fusse cosa
motivatami da voi, d' escluderla per qualsivoglia prez-

LETTERE 323
zo, sapendosi di gia, che ho quasi voto di non far
simili sorte di pitture, che non mi sieno pagate al pari
dei Raffaelli, e dei Tiziani. Ad alia.
II P. Cavalli*, qual fu ieri da me, e cosi parziale
del vostro nome, che poco piu ; ed in verita & uomo
degnissimo. Del resto, Ricciardi mio, vi prego a
stare allegramente, e credere, che il mio arbitrio, e la
mia borsa e vostra. Vi saluta la Signora Lucrezia, e
Orsola, ed io di cuore reverisco tutti codesti amici, e
voi abbraccio col cuore. — Di Roma, questo di 17
d' Agosto, 1652.
Di V. S. Amico vero,
S. ROSA.
Avvisatemi se il sonno e piaciuto al Sig. Lan
freducci.

LETTERA III.
In quest' ordinario non ricevo vostre lettere, e il
tutto attribuisco a qualche non ordinaria occupazione.
II mio quadro domani s' inviera per la volta di
Francia, onde mi resta d' augurari' V istessa felicita
* Al P. Cavalli dedico il Ricciardi una canzone.

324 LETTERE.
conseguita in Roma, la quale vi posso giurare, ch' ti
stata forse la maggiore, che abbia conseguito pittura
moderna (per non parlare dell' antiche) a segno tale,
che '1 mio nome questa volta ha fatto un gran salto.
II libro richiestomi non si trova, e di gia, mi dice
il nostro Signor Brunetti d' avervelo accennato.
Adesso, Ricciardi mio, posso dire d' essere restituito
alia mia pristina liberta, non avendo avuto un giorno
voto di processione * da che diedi fine a questo mio
sempre benedetto quadro. Vi ricordo a volermi bene,
ed a salutarmi il nostro Signor Fabbretti, insieme con
tutti codesti Signori della vostra conversazione. Mentre
io tutto solitario vi ricordo scrivermi quando potete,
e ad amarmi sin che avrete fiato. V abbraccio di cuore.
— Di Roma questo di 19 di 8bre, 1652.
Di V. S. Amico vero, S. ROSA.
* Di gente corsa a vedere il quadro.

LETTERE. 325
LETTERA IV.
Amico caro,
Gratissimi mi sono stati, e mi saranno sempre
i vostri avvertimenti intorno al pensare all' avvenire,
cioe di mettere insieme qualche bajocco per lo mante-
nimento della riputazione, come anche per lo comodo
della vita, confessando ancor io, che senza denari e
impossibile poter conseguire quel credito alle nostre
operazioni che noi desideriamo, e che veramente si
doverebbe ; onde mi risolvo di far dal canto mio le
dovute diligenze, ogni volta, che la' fortuna vi vorra
concorrere andf essa.
II quadro ando per il suo viaggio, avendo sortito
gli applausi accennativi. Ma che ne dite ? potevasi
fare in peggiori riscontri de' presenti rumori della
Francia, in tempo che quella Corona ave altro in
testa che pittura? Queste son le filosofie da rinne-
gare ; tralasciandovi di dire alcune altre cosette intor
no alia parte del donativo di non piccole consequenze
per lo svanimento de'miei fini. Pero lascio, che operi
Dio, non potendosi, per la parte che s" appartiene
a me, che guadagnare di molto, se non in altro, nella
riputazione.

326 LETTERE.
A quest' ora averete ricevuta una mia, nella quale
averete inteso il mio motivo circa 1' andare a Napoli
questa Quadragesima.
Gli schizzi della Battaglia non ve gli mando, per-
che e troppo necessario, che stiano presso di me, per non
dare in altra occasione nel medesimo. Ma se e vero
che andate avanzandovi col vostro libro de' disegni,
ve ne mandero una rimessa.
La Signora Lucrezia e gravida, e se la passa con la
solita  indisposizioni, unitamente con Orsola vi
baciano le mani.
L' Arcidiacono se n' ando all' altra vita. II Cielo
li dia cola cervello, giacche in questa dimostro sempre
d1 averne poco.
Saluto tutti gli amici, ed abbraccio il Sig. Fabbretti,
mentre di cuore mi vi rassegno tutto amore. — Di Roma,
questo di 16 d' Ottobre, 1652.
Di V. S. Amico vero,
S. ROSA.
Ev qui comparsa una lettera del Sig. Ceffini * oltre-
* Cavaliere di S. Stefano, e Lettor di Pisa in Legge.

LETTERE. 327
modo ingegnosa, e perche contiene le mie lodi, ringra-
ziatelo a mio nome.

LETTERA V.
Poter del mondo ! non mi par mica vero, che la
lettera ricevuta in quest' ordinario sia vostra, essendo
stato sei ordinarj un dietro 1' altro non solamente
piivo di si fatta grazia, ma ne anche di quelle, che mi,
soleva fare in vostro difetto il Sig. Cosimo nostro. Le
maledizioni che ho mandate alia Signora Commedia*,
sono state stravagantissime, giacche per sua cagione
m' & convenuto far si lungo digiuno ; e ne ho veduto
riuscire almeno questa vendetta d' esser stata di qual
che tedio mediante la sua lunghezza, il cui difetto mi
pervenne all' orecchio prima del vostro avviso, per le
relaaioni avutene dal Sig. Canonico da Scornio mio
vicino, e bonissimo gentiluomo. Vi scrissi ultima-
mente una mia lunghissima, nella quale vi davo rag-
guaglio di tutte le mie disgrazie sotto il solito nome
* Gio. Batista Ricciardi compose varie commedie in prosa
molto facete.

328 LETTERE.
del Sig. Fabbretti, informandovi di quanto e successo
dal vostro silenzio in qua ; percio vi prego a far la di-
ligenza, e darmene subito avviso della ricevuta d' essa,
altrimente staro sempre in pensiero che altri non
prendano le mie lettere. Sentira V. S. in essa 1' infa-
mita orrenda commessa da' miei nemici, avendomi
voluto far la spia sotto pretesto di rispondere alla
Satira. Ma, Iddio, che vede 1' intenzione di tutti, ed e
somma verita, ha fatto riuscire le cose al contrario di
quello, ch' egli avevano tramato. Basta ; se non v' e
pervenuta nelle mani a quest' ora, e voi fate ogni
sforzo per recuperarla. Ma torniamo a noi. Da
si fatte indegnita argomentate, come possa stare
F animo d' un vostro amico tutto bile, tutto spirito,
tutto fuoco. E pure mi bisogna portar la maschera
del disprezzo, e della sofferenza, col considerare,
che i loro fuochi furono di paglia, e i miei di pietra
amianto. *
L' obbligazioni, ch' io professo all' accennato Sig.
Camillo Rubiera, gentiluomo d' una smisurata intre-
pidezza, sono grandi, e mi dispiace in occasioni simili
* L' amianto non si consuma, benche arda.

LETTERE. 329
di non aver fortune pari al mio animo, che vorrei far
dir di me al sicuro ; ma bisogna aver pacienza, e res-
tar sotto per non poter far altro, restandomi solamente
la speranza di pagare cosi fatti beneficj con la libe-
ralita. de' miei amici.
Oh Dio ! di quanto insegnamento mi sono state
queste avversita, perche mi hanno fatto conoscere la
svisceratezza d' alcune anime nelle quali io non
m' averei mai creduto, che la legge della pieta, e dell'
affetto v' avesse albergato ; e pure ho veduto miracoli ;
come per lo contrario, chi tenevo per indubitato,
ch' avessero avuto a prendere la spada in mia difesa,
gli ho esperimentati piu taciturni de' medesimi muti !
Piaccia dunque al Cielo, che riceva insegnamento
da si fatti accidenti, per approfittarmene nell' avve-
nire ; e confessovi eternamente, che anima piu bella
della vostra non hawene al mondo, viva Iddio.
Dei disegni delle scene sarete servito, massime delle
boscherecce avendole da far' io ; di quelli altri, spero
ancora che resterete sodisfatto, avendone questa
mattina pregato un pittor di prospettive Milanese
valoroso. Quello di paesi ve lo potria mandare per 1' al
tra settimana, ma bisogna pure aspettar il comodo

330 LETTERE.
di quest' altro civile, per mandare ogni cosa insieme.
Datemi nuova, se 1' estate la farete in Firenze, la quale
stanza giudicherei meglio assai, che Pisa.
II P. Cavallo e comparso, e dopo molti discorsi mi
disse : in fatti conosco, che nessuno vi vuol piu bene
del Sig. Ricciardi, poiche ne paria con troppa tene-
rezza ; considerate adesso voi s' io ingrasso a si fatte
attestazipni. Sentirete dal nostro Sig. Cordini la volonta
del nostro Sig. Volunnio, il quale m' esorta a stampare,
ma che prima averebbe caro di risentire tutte le mie
satire. Ma udite a che segno e arrivata 1' affezione d' un
avvocato mio amico, che ha voluto tentare di mettere
in Rota la mia causa per immortalarsi con questa singo-
larita ; ma io 1' ho dissuaso, e pregato a non parlarne ;
e per certo, che questo e un uomo di molto garbo, e
in questa Corte cammina per 1' acquisto del primato,
e si chiama F avvocato Serroni mio svisceratissimo.
Voi non mi mandaste mai quel pensiero per il qua
dro ; e pure v' ho pregato piu d' una volta. Di gra
zia non mi mancate, che lo voglio accommodare per le
feste. Ho avuto caro, che vi sia capitata la tragedia del
Gherardelli, e che, col parere di tutti, vi sia piaciuta

LETTERE. 331
piil la difesa, che 1' opera, attesoche la difesa e vera-
mente cosa degna d' uomo grande. Averete ancora
osservato il mio disegno del frontespizio, nel quale io
non volli, che si tnettesse il mio nome. Adesso
Finfame dello Schiribandolo dice, volere stampare
contro della difesa alla barba della riverenza, che
tutti gli altri hanno usato ai morti.
Con questo, e molt' altre belle sciose* mi vi ricordo
tutto vostro, pregandovi a salutarmi gli amici che
sapete, mentre il simile fa. a V. S. la Signora Lucrezia,
e Orsola. — Di Roma, questo di . . . . di Maggio,
1654. Amico vero,
S. ROSA.

LETTER A VI.
Godo dell' avviso, che siete in Fiorenza, e che vi
godiate il cordialissimo Sig. Cordini, la conversazione
del quale non pu6 se non recarvi straordinario sol-
lievo. Avvisatemi se avete pensiero di trattenervici
tutta F estate, e se il Sig. Cosimo e con esso voi.
* Sciose, ciofe cose, detto all' uso de' Franzesi per ischerzo.

332 LETTERE.
De' miei interessi non vi scrivero cosa nessuna,
bastandomi solamente il dirvi, che la quiete si ha
preso il bando affatto dal mio animo per colpa di
queste benedette satire ; che m' avessi pur rotto il
collo prima d' incominciarle. In somma, concorrono
pid cose a costituirmi infelicissimo, a dispetto di quanta
prudenza e virtu si trova nel mondo.
Pure questa settimana hanno abiurato due de' miei
nemici nel sentire quest' ultimo mio componimento.
Resto maravigliato che non m' avvisate cosa nessuna
intorno alla visita ch' aveste in Pisa d' un tal Canonico
Perruca, parente dello Scornio *, e pure so, che si dis-
corse di me, e delle mie satire, e nel ritorno, che ha
fatto qui in Roma, non han mancato (nel sentir, che
veniva di Pisa) domandar de' vostri talenti, e de' vostri
genj nel comporre. In somma, se non muoro disperato
io, non morra mai nessun' uomo del mondo.
Dei disegni della scena vi servii subito, cioe di
quello, che dovevo far io ; resta solo, che sia finito
F altro di prospettiva, il quale avero questa settimana
da un pittore di tal genere valorosissimo, e per F altro
ordinario vi mander5 ogni cosa insieme ; e se fosse
* Canonico Pisano.

LETTERE. 333
stato servizio, che Favesse avuto a far solamente io, a
quest' ora sareste restato servito.
Io non intendo ne sforzarvi, ne persuadervi intorno
al particolar di Volterra, essendo debito mio 1' obbedire
alla vostra volonta, e ]' incontrare le vostre sodis-
fazioni, e cosi vi prometto.
Staro con ansieta. grandissima aspettando il pensiero
del quadro, e pure so d' avervene scritto piu volte. II
Capitolo del Melosi* ve lo trascrivero qui dietro per
obbedirvi. Avvisatemi di grazia, quanto siete per trat-
tenervi in Firenze ; ed io stimerei assai meglio far
F estate costi che in Pisa per la vostra salute.
Datemi qualche avviso del Sig. Giulio : Non poten-
do aver risposta d' alcune mie scrittegli, non so s' e
morto o vivo. Del resto mi vi raccommando, assicu-
randovi, che la maggiore mia consolazione e il pensare,
che ho voi per amico. Comandatemi, e vi bacio le
mani. — Di Roma, questo di 1 3 di Giugno, 1654.
Amico vero,
S. ROSA.
* II Melosi Poeta faceto.

334 LETTERE.
LETTERA VII.
M' avete fatto una gola d' altro, che di baje con
la nuova datami d' essere stato nella Carfagnana, e
goduto del selvaticume di quel paese, tanto geniale alla
nostra natura. Per certo vi giurd, che non so, che
sia stata felicitada Monte Rufoli, e Barbajano in qua ;
e pure quei luoghi, come voi dite, non vagliono nulla
in riguardo di questo accennatomi. In somma non vi
penso che non m' attristi, segno evidente che furono
di non ordinario nutrimento all' animo, e di salute al
corpo. Ma parliamo d1 altro, che per essermene
appena ricordato, mi vien voglia di lagrimare.
La villetta da voi offertami, concorro ancor io, ch' e
gran prerogativa 1' esser sua libera; ma quello stare
vicino all' abitato guasta ogni sua bellezza, oltreche
non essendoci bosco fa, che in tutte le cose riesca
presso di me imperfetta.
Oh quanto mi dispiace della disgrazia del Signor
Cavalier Leoli, e per certo, che sento nell' anima
questa sua afflizione. Vi prego a riverirlo'a mio nome,
come vi prego a fare con tutto il resto della sua buona
conversazione. Del Canonico non diro cosa nessuna :
bastami solo, che di questa cammedia sia 1' unico Ber-

LETTERE. 335
toldino, e gli si fanno burle, che non le manderia giu
una balena, a segno tale che dice volersene o ritornare
in patria, o andarsene in Francia. Se '1 Signor Lan
cia sortisce la medesima ventura in codeste parti, puo
dire d' essere accommodato per le feste.
Son molte settimane, che me la vado spassando in
intaghare d' acqua forte, ed a suo tempo ne vedrete
P operazioni, giacche non ho avuto ventura di far
quello, che di presente fo, nella destinata solitudine di
Strozzavolpi. Basta, riserberemo dell' altre cose da
fare quando ritornera. la colomba. Fra questo mentre
ricordatevi, che si va in la. con gli anni, e che molte
cose e disastri che la gioventu sopportava, F eta non
cosi facilmente F ammette. Dico questo non gia. per
sollecitarvi, giovandomi il credere che in voi llano le
medesime inclinazioni, che sono in me per non per-
dere afiatto quel poco di speranza, che mi resta in si
fatte materie.
Un saluto al Sig. Cosimo, et alla Signora vostra-
sorella, cosi da mia parte, come della Signora Lucre
zia, e di cuore vi abbraccio. — Di Roma, questo dl 20
di Novembre, 1660. Amico vero,
S. ROSA.

336 LETTERE.

LETTERA VIII.

Prima di scrivere ho consegnato la cassetta al pro-
caccia di Fiorenza. Al Signor Simon Torrigiani, nella
posta di Fiorenza, franca per il Sig. Geo. Batista Ric
ciardi. A Pisa. Con il quadretto ci troverete anche
il disegno del Policrate in due pezzi, conforme fu
disegnato a Strozzavolpe. Quello dell' Alessandro
con Diogene, Filolao, e due altri, cioe quello del De-
mocrito, al quale manca gia. un dito di disegno, il quale
non ho potuto per ancora trovare, ed il suo compagno
del Diogene, che butta la tazza,* il tutto benissimo
condizionato nella medesima maniera, ch' ella me
P invio a questa volta.
Circa ai due suoi quadri, quanto e stato a tempo
1' avviso, che uno vuol esser per F alto, e F altro per lo
lungo ! Intorno agli altri ch' ella desiderava per 1' a-
mico, i pittori che facevano di fiori comodamente
bene, sono andati a Torino. Ve ne restano alcuni
altri, che fenno meglio, ma i prezzi non sono per le
borse di cotesto Cielo, e con simil sorta di persone io
* Tutti questi sono disegni di carte intagliate dal Rosa.

LETTERE. 337
non voglio aver che fare. Di paesi e di animali non
ci e cosa che mi sodisfaccia (parlando per la riga del
buon mercato) che del resto ci sarebbe da svogliarsi.
Mi displace, che la casa non riesca di sodisfazione, e
che vi costringa ad abitare a soffitto, il quale incomodo
6ara cagione, ch' ella applichi a perfezionare il tugurio
prima di quello, ch' aveva talvolta risolutp di fare.
Mi sono tutto rallegrato all' avviso ch' Ella non sia
mai stato meglio di salute della flussione. Spero in
Cristo, che andera via ancor essa, e cosi resterete affatto
libero. II rimedio del non applicare h la manna
vera del Paradiso, 1' unico rimedio certo da conser-
varsi, onde vi esorto a servirvene.
Non mancate d' abbracciare a mio nome il Signor
Cosimo, e di riverire tutti di. casa a mio nome, come di
ricordarmi obbligatissimo a tutti cotesti Signori, mentre
di cuore, in compagnia di Farfanicchio, e della Signora
Lucrezia, vi baciamo le mani. — Di Roma questo di 11
di Marzo 1662. Amico vero,
S. ROSA,

VOL. IL

338 LETTERE.

LETTER A IX.
Non ho potuto prima di questo giorno darvi nuova
del mio ritorno da Loreto, il qual sorti alii 6. del pre
sente mese di Maggio, Sono stato quindici giorni in
continuo moto, et il viaggio e assai piu curioso fe pit-
toresco di cotesto di Fiorenza senza comparazione,
attesoche e d' un misto cosi stravagante d' orrido e di
domestico, di piano e di scosceso, che nori si pud
desiderar di vantaggio per lo compiacimento dell'
occhio. Vi posso giurare, che sono assai piu belle le tinte d'
una di quelle montagne, che quanto ho veduto fra
tutto cotesto cielo di Toscana. La vostra Verucola
(quale io stimavo di qualche orridezza) per F avvenire
la chiamero giardino, in comparazione d' una delle
trascorse Alpi. Oh Dio ! e quante volte vi ho deside
rata, quante volte chiamato alla vista d' alcuni solita*
rissimi romitorj veduti per istrada, i quali se mi han
fatto gola, lo sa la Fortuna. Ci trasportammo in Ancona,
ed in Sorolo, e nel ritorno, in Assisi, di piu del
viaggio; luoghi tutti di straordinaiio diletto per la
pittura.

LETTERE. 339
Vidi a Terni (eioe quattro miglia fuoi i di strada)
ia famosa Cascata del Velino, fiume di Rieti ; cosa da
far spiritare ogni ineontentabile cervello per la sua .
orrida bellezza, per vedere un fiume che precipita da
un monte di mezzo miglio di precipizio, ed innalza la
sua schiuma altrettanto. Assicuratevi, che in questo
luogo non davo occhiata, ne movevo passo, che non
meditasse voi.
Datemi nuova di vostra salute, come di tutti di
vostra casa, ne mancate d' abbracciarmi il Signor
Cosimo, e di riverire sino ai gatti a mio nome. A
tutti cotesti Signori centomila baciamanr, e di cuore a
voi auguro ogni bene, mentre col cuore vi abbraccio. —
Di Roma, questo di 13 di Maggio, 1662.
Amico vero,
S. ROSA.

LETTERA X,

Ricevo il secondo plico, e subito fu portato come
F altro, ma senza la fortuna di poterlo consegnare in
man propria del Sig. Conti, il quale non ho mai piu
veduto ; e come voi dite, s non si vien per quattrini,
non credo che si fara. nulla al proposito. A questo ip

340 LETTERE.
non ho colpa, avendoli significato, che era pronto per
sborsarli ogni somma da lui domandatami.
I giorni passati fu da me un certo prete, il quale mi
disse d' avermi a sborsare scudi dieci, e questo credo,
che sieno quelli che V. S. mi dice che '1 Sig. Marcan-
tonio ha rimessi qui in Roma per detta causa. Io non
gli volsi pigliare, dicendoli, che quando mi saranno
domandati, gli ripigliero da lui, e cosi restammo. Per
dirvela, questo negozio in mano al Bregiotti, a me non
piace nulla, essendo questo un soggetto da niente e
di nessuna stima ; ma perche e stato eletto dal Signor
Conti, il qual voi stimate, io non dico cosa nessuna,
tantopiu, che in dette materie sono il Bertoldino del
secolo, ne posso sentir cosa di maggior noja che
questo nome di lite.
Ho concluso i due quadri, che stavo lavorando, i
soggetti de' quali sono del tutto e per tutto nuovi,
ne tocchi mai da nessuno. Ho dipinto in una tela di
palmi 8 per lo lungo, Pittagora, lungo la riva del
mare, corteggiato dalla sua Setta, in atto di pagare ad
alcuni pescatori una rete che stanno tirando, accio si
ridia la liberta ai pesci ; motivo tolto da un opuscolo
di Plutarco.L' altro e quando il rriedesimo, dopo esser stato un

LETTERE. 341
anno in una sotterranea abitazione, alia fine d' esso,
aspettato dalla sua Setta cosi d' uomini come di
donne, usci fuori, e disse venir dagF Inferi, e d' aver
veduto cola. F anima d' Omero, d' Esiodo, ed altre
minchionerie appettatorie di quei tempi cosi dolcissi-
mi di sale. Queste due opere F ho fatte per esporle alla
fine di quest' altro mese, alla festa di S. Giovanni
DecoUato. Di quanto succedera, ne sarete puntual-
mente avvisato.
Se vi venissero col leggere pensieri simili, di grazia
notateli, attesoche riescono mirabilmente. Del resto
saluto il Sig. Cosimo e la Signora sua consorte, con
tutti di casa, ed in particolare il mio Sig Salvatorino,
cosi da mia parte, come della Signora Lucrezia, e
Farfanicchio. — Di Roma, questo di 29 di Luglio,
1662. Amico vero,
S. ROSA.

LETTERA XI.

E' superfluo il ricordarmi i trattenimenti di
Strozzavolpe dell' anno passato, attesoche non passa
o-iorno, che d' ogni minuzia occorsaci non se ne faccia
ft ' O

342 LETTERE.
una solenne comtnemorazione con straordinario tor
mento del pensiero, qual per trovarsi immerso nelF
opposito. si crucia in rarrimentarvene le particolarita.
Vi giuro, che alle volte sgrido Augusto, il qual si rU
corda di tutto, per non amareggiarne la memoria, e
massime in questo mese colmo di tante varieta ; ma
discorriamo d' altro di grazia.
La festa di S. Giovanni DecoUato riusci solennisi
sima per piu rispetti. L' obbligo di farla fu de' Sig-
nori Sacchetti, per conseguenza il peso della distri-
buzione di Pietro da Cortona, come quello che de
pende, ed e tutto di casa. Vi fu gran concorso di
pitture antiche, avendo avuto questi Signori per fine
di sfiorare le piu celebri gallerie di Roma. Vi esposi,
oltre ai due quadri accennativi dei fatti di Pittagora,
una tela piu grande rappresentando il fatto di Jere-
mia, quando per ordine dei Principi di Juda e calato
in una fossa per profetizzare la rovina di Jerusalem,
ma a preghiera deU'Eunuco Ebedmelec n' e cavato
fuori. II numero delle figure erano tredici, e la
misura di esso quanto al vivo. Ve ne furono due
altri pezzi, i quali comecche non furono fatti per quel
fine, non ne diro di vantaggio ; e questo e quanto alla
festa.

LETTERE. 343
Lessisubito la vita d' Apollonio, composta da Filp-
strato, con mia particolar sodisfazione, per quel, che
s' appartiene alla curiosita; ma non ci ho trovato
quello ch' ella mi signified, che ci averia trovato di
singolare e stravagante per la pittura, essendo fatti,
che quasi tutti darebbono in una cosa medesima,
onde vi prego a propormi qualch' altra cosa, accio vi
potessi trovar cose piu fuori dell' ordinario, avendovi
pero notato alcuni fatti per servirmene.
Del pasticcio non mi posso ricordare, che cosa ella
si sia, ma stimando voi, che sia cosa, che possa rius-
cire di vostra sodisfazione, non occorre altri discorsi ;
e se comporta la spesa dell' andare, e del venire, con
tento voi, io contentissimo.
Degli accidenti che corrono non diro nulla, che
per essere cose oggimai fatte pubbliche, la fama ne
discorre per tutto.
Delia lite del Sig. Marcantonio non so che si faccia,
poiche da che sborsai al Sig. Conti li scudi quattro,
non F ho piu veduto, ed io, come tutto il mondo sa,
non parto mai dal monte della Trinita, e tanto calo
all' abitato quanto la fama mi ci necessita.
Le stampe son venerate, e richieste, ed a quest'
ora pellegrinano per tutto. Ho due altri rami grandi

344 LETTERE.
in online, ne posso condurmi ad incominciarli, ricor-
dandomi come furono lavorati quelli dell' anno passato.
Quanto poi mi sia dispiaciuta la nuova della morte
del putto, lo sa il cielo ; e in riguardo del dolore del
Sig. Cosimo, e di sua consorte ; ma mi consolo, che le
stampe son vigorose Oh beati color, cK avvolti in
Jusce, etc.
Non mancate scfivendo al Sig. Giacomo ed al Sigj
Minucci*, di salutarli a mio nome, come il simile
di fare con tutti codesti Signori da me sommamente
riveriti, predicati.
Vi ritorno a riplicare di far la diligenza di qualche
singolar fatto per la pittura conforme andate leggendo.
La Signora Lucrezia, ed Augusto, ed io, vi baciamo le
mani di tutto cuore* — Di Roma, questo dl 16 di
Settembre, 1662.
A tutti di vostra casa un saluto. Amico vero,
S. ROSA,
* Paolo Minucci comeritatore del Malmantile..

LETTERE. 345
LETTERA XU.
Vi scrivo queste sole quattro righe per darvi nuova
di me, a confusione di voi, che vi siete dimenticato
affatto di ragguagliarmi di voi, che altro non desidero
in questa vita.
Ho sentito gusto grande, che '1 Brunetti si sia tras-
ferito costa, e sodisfatto in parte alia vostra curiositd.
Nella festa di S. Giovanni DecoUato di quest' anno
ho esposto un mio quadro grande, con figure quanto
il vero, dell' istoria della Congiuria di Catilina,*
espressa per 1' appunto conforme la descrive Sallustio ;
ed in particolare agl' intendenti e straordinariamente
piaciuta. Ve ne do parte, perche cosi devo con un
amico, qual voi mi siete. Del resto vi prego a darmi
qualche avviso di vostra salute, e di credere, che con
me non vive memoria piu tenace, che questa del vostro
affetto ; e Iddio vi conservi. — Di Roma, questo di 8 di
Settembre, 1663. Amico vero,
S. ROSA.

* Questo quadro bellissimo e nel Palazzo del Sig. Bali Mar
telli in Firenze.

346 LETTERE.

LETTERA XIII.

Resto straordinariamente maravigliato, che un cer
vello come il vostro si sia lasciato ridurre sino a questo
giorno per esperimentare quanto vaglia, e di che
tempra si sia Salvador Rosa nell' amicizia.
Ma se voi non ischerzate, m' e forza il credere, che
codesta vostra liberta nel pungermi non derivi, che dal
considerarmi in qualche parte vostro obbligato. Quando
eio fusse, soffrird ogni vostra liberta, ma sino a' limiti
del dovere, ricordandovi, che ne io, ne voi siamo iddii,
e che voi siete uomo, e uomo grande presso di me, io
non pretendo d' esser cetrivolo presso degli altri.
Dunque per avervi detto di non voler fare nelle
Vostre tele non piu che due o tre figure, tanti schia-
mazzi, rovine, scapricciature, esperienze, vele di Serse,
ed altre infinite querele imprudenti, che non F averia
dette in pasquale ed incolparmi di peccato, ch' io non
saprd mai commettere. Chiano, chiano (dice lo Napoli-.
tano), non tanto frusciamento ; che quando anco mi
fussi ristretto non in due o tre, ma in una sola figura
di mia mano, averei creduto, che fusse stata bastante
per contentar voi, e sofficientissima a servir di com-

Letteee. 347
pagna non solamente alla vostra ridicola bambocciata,
ma viva Iddio ! a qualsivoglia pieno quadro di mano
di pittore primario. Vi confesso, che non intendo, ne
capisco coteste vostre cabale, ne so darmi ad intendere,
che in questo accidente foste per pretender piu che le
tele di mia mano dipinte ; ed in questo, se in me fusse
stata quella colpa che voi mi rovesciate, non vi averia
con tre delle mie lettere sollecitata 1' esecuzione, come
voi sapete molto bene.
Ma giacche '1 mio destino mi sforza anche con voi
ad esercitar P apologie (cosa, che mai mi saria imma-
ginata) dico, che intesi di dire, e che sempre diro, e
eternamente cosi troverete, che da molto tempo in
qua sen to nell' operare una cosi straordinaria stan-
chezza, che per non perdere e straccare il gusto del
dipingere, eleggo soggetti facili, e che non mi abbiano
a durare molto tempo sotto al pennello, e di rado
trapasso il numero delle figure accennatevi ; e se in
questo volete usare, col non crederlo, le vostre solite
interpretazioni, dopo avere attribuito il tutto a mia
fierissima disgrazia, datemi licenza, ch' io vi scemi
qualche parte dell' ottimo concetto, che sempre ho
avuto della vostra bell' alma.
Vedi, Ricciardi : se la nostra contesa si ristrengesse

348 LETTERE.
in materie letterarie, facilmente ti cederei; ma trat-
tandosi di volermi tacciare di poco grato e d' uomo d'
animo misurato nella corrispondenza, ti mostrero
sempre i denti, se non per morderti, almeno per difen-
dermi, e mi sara. facilissimo il provarti il contrario,
essendo oggimai bastantemente conosciuto, se non da
voi, dal resto di tutto il mondo.
Vi confesso, che da che vi conosco, non mi siete
dispiaciuto piu. di questa volta, ne mai mi saria imma-
ginato, che un amico come voi, m' avesse ad offendere
in quello, donde io so che merito maggior lode.
Ai pittori della mia condizione e genio stravagante e
forza, dalla misura in poi, lasciare il resto in liberta. ;
(cosi averei fatto io in accidente simile con voi,) e con-
tentarsi di non volere insegnare ai babbi a far figliuoli ;
e come ho detto di sopra, a secondar il genio di chi ha
da operare, e credere ch' ogni poca cosa di pittore
classico e per ricevere e pregio e lode da chi vivamente
intende, e vi ricordo, che val piu un solo verso d'
Omero, che un intero poeraa d'un Cherilo.
Non dird di vantaggio per non dar luogo alia collera,
nella quale m' avete messo. Ah Dio ! e chi mai senti
minchioneria piu massima di questa ? Creder d' espe-
rimentare F amico, e P amico pittore, dalla quantita
delle figure !

LETTERE. 349
Serbate, serbate, amico, codeste vostre rigorose
cavillazioni per le poesie, e non per il mio animo, il
quale per voi e impeccabile ; e se questo succede per
la soverchia mia schiettezza, e liberta di lingua, vi pro-
metto per P avvenire in simili minchionerie d' adularvi
ancor io. Saluto tutti di casa, e voi abbraccio con
P anima. — Di Roma, questo di 4 di Giugno, 1664.
Amico vero,
S. ROSA.

LETTERA XIV.

Siete pur buono a farvi dare ad intendere, che io
sia applicato a far danari, e massime ne' presenti
tempi, quando ogni fedel Cristiano fa sei nodi ad un
testone. Questi, che v' ha ragguagliato di questa
fola, o mi desidera bene, o sogna ; della prima lo rin-
grazio, della seconda mi dispiace, che non sia vero.
Ricciardi mio, tutte le mie ricchezze consistono in
quei quattro bajocchi applicati nelle lane, i quali
negozj, per grazia de' Signori rumori di guerra, sono
dismessi affatto, e per consequenza impediti a me quei
pochi emolument'!, che se ne cavavano. Ev ben vero,

350 LETTERE.
che mi trovo vicino ad un migliajo di scudi di pitture
fatte, delle quali con difficolta non ordinaria se ne va
esitando qualcheduna. Commission da fame! e un
anno che non s' e veduto cane ad ordinarne, e se le
cose della guerra piglieranno vigore, potro piantare
i pennelli nell' orto ; ed eccovi detto, e scoperto tutti i
miei arcani intorno al far danari. Contuttocio vi
prego a mantenere in questa fede quelli, che lo
credono. Vado smattendo qualche carta, con la qual mer-
canzia mantengo viva la borsa ; et a questa mercanzia
anco vi si aggiunge la nuova Imposizione, che si tratta
di mettere alla carta. Amico, le nostre ricchezze,
bisogna, che consistano nell' animo, e di contentarsi di
libare, quando altri ingojano le prosperita. Basta, s'
io vendessi tutte queste mie pitture, che di presente
mi trovo, vorrei avere in culo Creso, ma ci vuol del
tempo. Mi dispiace della cattiva raccolta del vino, ed in
questo P esser Poeta vi nuoce.
Farfanicchio vi saluta, e vi porta di continuo nella
lingua, ed il nostro focolare in questa stagione non ode
cosa piu frequente, che il vostro nome.
Vi prego a riverire in mio nome tutti di casa, ed

LETTERE. 351
a credere, come sempre vi diro, che non ho cosa piu
viva nel mio cuore che voi, e vi bacio le mani.— Di
Roma, questo dl 2. di Gennajo, 1665.
Amico vero, S. ROSA.

LETTERA XV.
Avete ragione, onde datemi pure dello smemo-
rato, che mi si deve. Non ricordarmi della carta del
Filolao, e pure involger F altre, e P avevo sotto gli
occhi ! Compatitemi, perche ho buona parte di me
fuora di me medesimo. Con altra occasione vi per-
verra. nelle mani.
Per soddisfarvi circa a quel pinx delle mie carte, ve
F ho messo per mia cortesia, e per far credere ch' io
intanto P ho intagliate, inquanto F avevo dipinte ; ma
la verita e che dall' Attilio in poi tra le grandi, e del
Democrito e Diogene della scodella fra le mezzane,
nessun' altra e stata da me colorita, ne e stata bastante
una fantasia come quella de' giganti a muovere la
voglia a nessuno di vedersela colorita. A questo pro-
posito averei occasione di scrivervi una bibbia, non
gia, sacra, ma scomunicatissima ; non lo fd perche cosi

352 LETTERE.
mi detta la generosita del mio animo, e della mia forse
non dannabile superbia. Oh quanto siamo tenuti alla
scuola degli Stoici, i quali ci hanno insegnato un' effi-
cace medicina per alcune umane difficulta. !
Le dedicatorie o Latine, o volgari ci devono impor-
tar poco, con tuttocio procurero di sodisfarvi.
Vi mandai per F ordinario passato la licenza do-
mandatami ; averei caro, che vi giugnesse sicura.
Quella vostra particolarita, (cos\ vi fussimo noi) par
lando della vittellina, mi ha pieno di amaritudine,
avendomi fatto ricordare delle divine solitudini di
Strozzavolpe, ch1 ogni abitato luogo e nemico mortal
degli occhj miei.
Per sollievo del mio animo vado meditando qualche
viaggio ; se succedera in cio risoluzione nessuna ve ne
daro parte ; caso che no, svanira. con gli altri miei cas
te! Ii in aria.
Del resto vi prego a comandarmi, ed a credere,
ch' io non ho di vivo, e di tenace nella mia memoria,
e nel mio cuore, che '1 vostro affetto, e F obbligazioni
che professo alla mia Lucrezia, la quale in compagnia
d' Augusto vi riveriscono, ed io di cuore v1 abbraccio.
—Questo di 11 d' Ottobre, 1665.
Di V. S. Amico vero, S. ROSA.

LETTERE. 353

LETTERA XVI.

Questo smarrimento di lettere a me servira.^ che
un giorno perda affatto il resto del mio poco cervello.
Vi giuro, che cinque sono state le lettere inviatevi pri
ma di ricevere quest' ultima vostra per P ordinario di
Milano, la quale mi ha rimesso una dozzina d' anni di
vantaggio, e se non compariva, ero p£r mettere in
ordine la valigia, e marciare a costesta volta, e per
certo, che P indovinavo, poiche averei potuto servire
di fattore al murator della vostra fabbrica. Argo-
mento sicurissimo, che voi avete trovo il tesoro al detto
de' Napoletani, i quali dicono : chi ha denaro fraveca,
e chi ha viento naveca.
Ma che direte della mia vista, la quale mi va cosi
declinando, che non posso leggere una lettera, se non
la discosto quattro palmi dagli occhi. La testa non
patisce altro naufragio, accorgendomi giornalmente,
che la spensierataggine mi fu, e m' e di presente di
grandissimo giovamento.
Le settimane passate, per grazia della fortuna, finii
d' accomodarmi i venti scudi il mese : sicche non ho
da pensar piu a questo punto ; tutto quello, che s' an-
VOL. II. 2 A

354 LETTERE.
dera. facendo, servira. di vantaggio. Ve lo fo sapere,
accio ve ne possiate prevalere nell' occasioni.
Jeri Augusto incomincio il suo primo mezz' occhio.
Quello, che sia per essere di lui in questo genere del
disegno lo rimetto al soggetto. Vi riverisco, conforme
il simile fa la Signora Lucrezia, la quale si ritrova con
non troppo buona salute.
Qui teniamo Monsu Possino piu dall' altro, che da
questo mondo. II mio Signor Giulio Martinelli
anch' esso si ritrova in un fondo di letto con le gambe
tutte impiagate, e quel, che piu importa con 73. anni
in su le spalle. II Cielo sia quello, che liberi, e P uno
e F altro, e conceda a voi tutto il bene, che desiderate,
mentre io di tutto cuore vi abbraccio, e riverisco. — Di
Roma, questo di ultimo d' Ottobre, 1665.
Di V. S. Amico vero,
S. ROSA.

LETTERA XVII.

Col P. Cavalli e stata V. S. servita nella conformita.
che desiderava; resta ch' io la sodisfaccia circa le sue
curiosissime domande.

LETTERE. 355
Primieramente la misura dell' Attilio sono braccia
quattro di lunghezza e poche dita di piu, e di altezza
due e mezzo poco piu. II regalo, che ne riportai,
furono cento piastre sotto una forma di cacio Parmi-
giano, mandatami in una canestra, di detto quadro
n' ho trovo piu volte cento doble, e se avessi a dipingere
adesso, non Io farei per meno di quattro cento scudi*
Di quello delle streghe, la sua lunghezza sono
braccia due e un quarto, e alto uno e mezzo poco piu.
II suo regalo furono quindici doble, e sono ormai venti
anni che lo feci. Di questo, ogni volta, che il Signor
Rossi sene avesse voluto privare, gli potevano entrar
nelle mani quattrocento scudi ; ed una volta gliene
furono offerti cinquecento ; ed io gli ho fatta la profe-
zia, che, dopo me, sara in prezzo di mille scudi, atteso
che trapassa i segni della curiosita e come tale, si mos-
tra dopo tutte le cose, e sta coper to col taffetta ; ed
ecco sodisfatta alla vostra curiosita con la confidenza
dovuta. I giganti, e P Edipo non sono stati da me ancora

* Questo quadro ora e in casa del Contestabile. Fu inia-
gliato in rame da Salvatore stesso. 2 a 2

356 LETTERE.
depinti, il resto si ; e ben vero ch' ho pensiero una
volta depingerli, se mi verra. fatto.
L' ambasciator Priuli, mentre stette in Roma, prese
di me tre tele, una grande e due mezzane, ed un' al
tra commesse da Parigi, che sono al numero di quattro
con una piccola. El questo e quanto V. S. desidera
saper da me. Aggiungo a questo, che qui non capita
Francese che si diletti di Pittura, che non procuri
d' aver qualche cosa del mio.
Intorno alla salute, me la vado passando al meglio,
che sia possibile; e come vi scrissi, mi bisogna fuggire
il freddo. L' andare a, Venezia non so se mi potra.
riuscire ; basta mi rimettero al destino. Vi prego con
tutto il cuore riverirmi il Signore Minucci, Signor
Signoretti, e Signor Cordini ; mentre voi salutano con
quel!' amore, che vi si deve, la Signora Lucrezia ed
Augusto, ed io v' abbraccio di tutto cuore. — Di Roma,
questo di 15 di Decembre, 1666.
Di V. S. Amico vero,
S. ROSA.

LETTERE. 357

LETTERA XVIII.

Quando credevo che P indiavolata stagione pre
sente fusse per finire, da quattro giorni in qua. s'e
fatta da capo. II freddo di quest' anno e stato cosi
fuor del consueto bestiale, che mi ha fatto temere piu
d' una volta d' avermi a perdere affatto. La mia testa
al caldo si distempera, al freddo si riduce a temer di
una caduta all' improvviso, e dire alla sua vita, buona
notte, a rivederei a' liti d' Acheron te. Ho sofferto
due mesi di dolor di testa con tutto il riguardo di re-
goktrmi da Gallina. I miei piedi sono continuamente
' due pezzi di giaccio, con tutto il beneficio dei calze-
rotti fattimi venire da Venezia.
Nelle mie stanze non vi si smorza mai il fuoco ; e
piu diligente che non era il Cavagliere Cigoli * non e
fessura in mia casa, che non sia giornalmente da me
stoppata diligentemente, e pure non posso riscaldarmi,
ne mi riscalderiano le faci di Cupido, nh gli abbrac-
ciamenti di Frine. D' ogni altra cosa il mio labbro
favella che di pennello le tele volte al muro, i colori in

* Pittore celebratissimo.

358 LETTERE.
tutto e per tutto impietriti, ne altre specie in me si rag-
girano che di cammini, di bracieri, scalda letti, mani
cotti, guanti impellicciati, scarpini di lana, berrettini
foderati, e simili sorte di cose. In fatti, amico, io mi
conosco assai deteriorato dal mio solito calore ; e che
sia vero, mi son ridotto a passare i giorni intieri senza
favellare, e quella ardenza d' una volta in me spiritosa,
la contemplo sfumata affatto. Guai a me, amico, se
mi trovassi necessitato d' avere ad esercitarmi il pen
nello per bisogno, che saria sforzato o di morir sotto il
giogo, o di strapazzare il mestiero.
Ma se voi mi domandate in che spendo il giorno
ne' mesi dell' inverno, risponderei: i giorni sereni in
camminare solo come un pazzo, visitando tutte le soli-
tudini di questo cielo ; i giorni cattivi, serrato in casa
a passeggiare come un forsennato, ovvero a leggere
qualche libro, e sentire piu, che esercitare chiaccherie.
Non passa settimana che non rimanga richiesto di
pitture, a segno tale, che da molti ne vengo straordi-
nariamente ripreso ; ma Ji lascio cantare, che sa molto
bene la mestola i fatti della pignatta.
Ma discorriamo di cose meno malinconiche. Questa
mattina sono stato un paio d' ore col nostro Signor
Francesco il quale abita vicino al mio quartiere. Stava

LETTERE. 359
concludendo un paese* e gli ho giovato in molte cose ;
conforme feci in un altro ai giorni passati. Li tengo
sempre ricordato che si prevaglia di me in tutto
quello, che li fara di bisogno, poiche cosi mi vien co-
mandato da voi. II suo costume a me non dispiace ;
la vocazione nell' arte e sicura, ogn i volta pero che
vorra. assiduamente applicarci col conten tarsi di non
contentarsi. Vi saluta caramente, e dice di non rice
vere vostre lettere, come il simile posso dire anch1 io.
Le settimane passate fu da me il Signor Cavagliere
Fabbroni con intenzione di trasferirsi acotesta volta, ma
poi s' e mutato d' opinione, e recita da pasquella in al-
cune commedie che si fanno in casa del Signor Contesta-
bile recitate all' improvviso da Cavalieri. Discorremmo
sempre di voi, ed in particolare di quella divinissima
giornata, di tanti anni sono, nelle riviere di costest'
Aruo. Datemi qualche ragguaglio della vostra salute (non
dico della vostra fortuna che so ch' fe sempre la mede-
sima). Ditemi se fate nessuna Commedia ? come sta
il Sisrnor Cosimo? mentre a voi si raccommanda la
o
Signora Lucrezia in compagnia d' Augusto.
A nuova stagione preparativi d' averci a rivedere, che
a me non basta piu F animo di mandarlapiu alla lunga.

360 LETTERE.
Se vi bisognas,sero denari, io ne ho sempre per voi,
e di cuore v' abbraccio, — Di Roma, questo di 26 di
Gennaro, 1666.
Di V. S. Amico vero,
S. ROSA.

LETTER A XIX.
Vi scrivo di ritorno dalla valle di Giosaffatte, cioe
dalla festa di S. Giovanni DecoUato, la quale tale e
stata per me in quest' anno. Un fratello d' un Papa
insieme con quattro suoi figliuoli, entrati novizj in
quella Compagnia per togliere la speranza a quanti
siano mai per tentar simil festa per F avvenire, hanno
voluto sfiorare Roma delle sue piu superbe pitture, ed
in particolare de1 piu famosi quadri della regina di
Svezia, i quali soli, senz' altra compagnia, erano bas-
tanti a spav^ntare it medesimo inferno.
II primo motivo di questi Signori fu di non servirsi
di nessun' opera di pittori viventi, risoluzione che piu
m' invoglio a procuraiine il concorso, e con non ordi
naria fatica ottenni io solo, fra i vivi, di cimentarmi
fra tanti morti.

LETTERE. 361
Vi giuro, amico, che mai non mi sono trovo in im-
pegno maggiore, ma perche occasione piu bella non
era per sortir mai piu, per non tradirla ho questa volta
arrisicato il tutto per confirmarmi nel credito della
fama. Mi do ad intendere, che siate per rallegrarvene,
avendo saputo mostrar la fronte con tanti Achilli
dell' arte della pittura. Ma perche so, che bramate
sapere quali siano stati i soggetti delle mie pitture,
uno fe stato il fatto di Saulle, quando della Pitonessa
ottenne di favellare all' anima del Profeta Samuele,
quadro di misura di palmi 12 d' altezza, e 9 di lar-
ghezza, L.' altro, d' altezza di palmi 9, e largo 5,
rappresenta S, Giorgio in atto di trionfare dell' estinto
dragone. E quest' fe quanto, amico, devo dirvi per
iscusa, di non avervi potuto soddisfar con mie letterei
Del resto, a me dispiacciono, sin nell' anima, i vostri
travagli, nfe mai cesserb di riplicarvi, che se v' ha parte
la penuria del denaro, la mia borsa fe sempre piena
per voi, senza che mi abbiate nfe anche a ringraziare.
Mi displace sentir che '1 Cesti * sia per trasferirsi a
Venezia, luoga che dovria sfuggire piu che la peste,

* Maestro di musica eccellente.

362 LETTERE.
per non rammentar negli animi di coloro gli accidenti
succeduti per sua cagione.
Riverisco il Signore Cosimo, e saluto tutti gli
amici, mentre abbraccio voi con tutto il mio cuore. —
Di Roma, questo di 15 di Settembre, 1668.
Di V. S. Amico vero,
S. ROSA.

LETTER A XX.
Sonate le campane, che finalmente, dopo trent' anni
di stanza in Roma, e d' una strascinata speranza,
ripiena di continovate lamentazioni e co' cieli e con
gli uomini, s' fe pure spuntato una volta di mettere al
pubblico una tavola d' altare.
II Signor Filippo Nerli depositario del Papa ostinato
di vincere questa durezza, di fatto ha voluto fabbricare
una sua cappella nella Chiesa di S. Giovanni de' Fio
rentini; ed a dispetto delle stelle ha voluto che vi
facessi la tavola, la quale incominciata da me, cinque
mesi sono, la tralasciai con intenzione di ripigliarla a

LETTERE. 3G3
quadragesima. Ma P accidente della festa, che i
signori Fiorentini sono necessitati di celebrare in detta
chiesa per la canonizzazione di S. Maddelena de'
Pazzi, m' ha sforzato a ripigliare il lavoro, e chiudermi
in casa, ove sono stato un mese e mezzo in continove
agonie, per trovarmi a tempo anch' io con la mia tavola
alla lor festa. Quest' impegno m' ha tenuto non solo
lontano dal commercio della penna, ma da ogni altra
cosa di questo mondo, e vi posso dire, che mi son di-
menticato infin di mangiare, ed fe stata cosi ardua la
mia applicazione, che verso il fine, mi necessito a star
due giorni in letto ; e se non mi ajutavo col vomito,
per certo che la passavo male, mediante alcune crudezze
accumulate nello stomaco. Pero, amico, compatitemi,
se per la riputazione del pennello ho trascurato al de
bito che dovevo a voi della penna.
Sono due giorni che lavoro intorno alla tela del S.
Torpfe ; finita che sara, vene daro subito avviso. Fra
tanto vi prego a volermi bene, ed a pensare di rivederci,
non bastandomi P animo di mandarla piu alia lunga.
La Signora Lucrezia, con non troppo buona salute,
ed Augusto il simile, vi salutano e spiritano di rivedervi,
e tutto giorno non si fa altro, che rammentare gli

364 LETTERE.
accidenti di Strozzavolpe.* Al Signore Fabbretti
un bacio a mio nome, mentre vi abbraccio con tutta la
mia anima. — Di Roma, questo di 1 1 d' Ottobre, 1 669.
Di V. S. Amico vero,
S. ROSA.
II Dottor Oliva vi saluta.
* Villa del Signore Ricciardi.

PICTURES
BY SALVATOR ROSA*

IN ENGLAND.
In the Possession of
The Two Marys at the Tomb? „ ,-,
_ . C EARL (jrROSVENOR.
of Christ, t  j
Portrait of Salvator (by himself)") n-..
writing poetry, t  3
Two Views in Romagna  Earl of Miltown.
Glaucus and Scylla  Earl of Derby, Knowsley.
* This catalogue, chiefly formed from the collation of different authorities,
and from information communicated to the author, can be considered only as
a groundwork for future inquiry to those whose interest in the painter may
tempt them to seek a closer acquaintance with his works. Unable personally
to inspect the many collections noticed, or even by direct application to verify
her quotations, she desires not to be held responsible for the genuineness of
every picture thus attributed to Salvator : while the frequent change of hands
to which this species of property is liable, may have led her into some errors
in her references. Even while the work of collation was going forward, several
of Salvator's pictures have been sold, and fallen to new proprietors.
t Purchased from the late Mr. Agar.
X " This portrait of one of the greatest landscape-painters of the Italian
School, exhibits him in a character, by which he, in his own time, obtained
almost as much celebrity as he did by his pencil. He here represents himself
as a poet, and as it were in the very act of writing. There is every reason to
suppose that this picture very much resembled him, from the strong marks of
individuality in the countenance." — Description prefixed to the engraving of this
portrait, which was purchased bu the late Earl Grosvenor in Italy.

3GC PICTURES III the Possession of
Jacob's Vision  ~j
Jacob wrestling with the Angel . |
. , T , -ii q it- { Duke or Devonshire.
A large Landscape, with boldiers y
' t_ t> i ' At Chiswick.
reposing among the Kocks .... i
A large Landscape  J
Xenocrates and Phryne  Earl of Besborough.
Jason and the Dragon*  Honorable W. Ponsonby.
La Fortuna  Duke of Beaufort.
Two Landscapes ; Forest Sce--^
nery with Banditti  VEarl Cowper.
View of the Bay of Naples  J
Belisarius t  Lord Townsend.
Diocenes t  Dowager March. Lansdown.
Democritus J  Ditto.
CEdipus ; a Child exposed on a ) ^ ^ %
Tree  >
Portrait of Salvator Rosa by ) Jesse Watts Russell, Esq.
himself §  S M.P.
Tobit and the Angel. . . .(in 1816.) The late B. West, Esa. R.A.
Mercury and the Woodman  Sir Abraham Hume.
* Purchased from the Duke of Chandos by the late Earl of Besborough. —
It was afterwards sold to Mr. W. Smith, and at his sale to Geo. Watson Taylor,
Esq. and it has been lately purchased by the Honorable W. Ponsonby.
t Given by the celebrated Frederick of Prussia to Mr. Secretary Townsend.
X Inscription — " Diogenes adolescentem manu bibentein intuitus, scyphum
projecit." — " Democritus omnium derisor in omnium fine designatus." — These
two fine pictures were purchased by the late Marquis of Lansdown from Sir —
Young, about the year 1806, for a large sum.
§ On this fine portrait is a little inscription written by Salvator himself,
very illustrative of his ardent feelings :
" Miglior morir con gli amin,
Che Hirer Ira gli npmici."

- Mars, of Abercorn (in 1823.)

BY SAI.VATOIl ROSA. 307
In the Possession of
The Death of Regulus  Earl Darnley.
Pythagoras teaching his doctrine-^
to Fishermen  J
An old head  Ditto.
Birth of Orion  Ditto.
Mercury and Battus *  Baroness de Grey.
Pythagoras in the Cave  C. H. Tracy, Esq. (in 1821.)
A Scene painted on the lid of"
Salvator's harpsichord 
A Skull and Music Books, on the
same 
Landscape with Banditti  J. Denison, Esq.
rT ,<¦.,.. 7 Earl of Radnor, Longford
Harbour and shipping  > _, , _„.,
pp s 3 Castle, Wilts.
Bacchus on an Altar in a Wood.t — Earl of Pembroke.
Socrates taking Poison  1
View in Calabria with Soldiers . . _ ,.,,,,,
„, . ^. r Fonthill Abbey.
Playing Dice t  j
Job §  J
A Holy Family ,  -v
Jacob attending his Flock  > Marquis of Stafeord.
The Soothsayers ||  )

* From the Ghigi Palace at Rome.
t See Passeri's description of this picture ; also " Britton's Beauties of
Wiltshire," Vol. i. p. 204;
X From the Colonna Palace.
| From the Collection of the Santa Croce Palace at Rome.
|| " This very exquisitely-coloured picture, from the Due de Praslin's Col
lection, varies from the generality of works by this master. The scene is tran
quil, soft, and delicate. The figures are all placed in easy positions, and the
whole is finished with a light flowing pencil. On the foreground are seven
figures, three of which are standing upright, the others reclining on the bank

368

PICTURES

Earl of Ashburnham.

In the Possession of
Soldiers gaming  ~]
Portrait of a Young Man drawing j In the Collection of the late Sir
Landscape  Y F*ANCIS Bourgeois, now at
Ditto  ! Dulwich.
Head of an Old Man  J
Saint John preaching in the Wil-~^
derness 
Philip baptizing the Eunuch . .
Landscape and Figures 
The Flight into Egypt 
Marine View 
Ditto  J
The Finding of Moses. *  Duke of Buckingham.
("Lord Holland, Holland-
C house, Kensington.
Two Landscapes, with the Sketches")
of the story of Polycrates,
Tyrant of Samos t 
A desolate and dreary Landscape
A Landscape of savage sublimity,
and the most noble repose
View of rocky Scenery, and a Ca
taract

Two Landscapes

Earl of Warwick, Warwick
Castle.

of a lake or estuary : the middle part is occupied by water ; and in the back4
ground are some lofty crags and mountains, at the foot of which appears a
town. In the gallery of T. Hope. Esq. is a duplicate of this picture. It has
been engraved in small by Le Bos." — Britton's Catalogue Raisonne.
* Purchased from the Orleans Collection for ,£2500.
¦f- Painted (in oil) on paper which has been pasted upon canvass. This
must have been one of Salvator's very early productions, when his poverty
obliged him to paint on paper, not having the means to purchase better
materials.

Paul Methuen, Esq. Cor-
sham House.

BY SALVATOR ROSA. 369
In the Possession of
Laomedon.Kingof Troy, detected) Late, in the possession of D.
by Neptune and Apollo  $ W. Hunter, Esq. M. D.
A Landscape. — The principal fea
ture of this fine picture is a
magnificent shattered tree, under
which reposes a group of figures :
a lake, castle, and figures in the
distant view 
St. Lawrence on the Gridiron. . . .
A Landscape ; Rocky Scenery,
deep Fall of Water — a fine group
Banditti in the foreground . . . . -
The Travellers  ("William Croftes, Esq. West
C Harding, Norfolk.
The false Alexander *  * * *
Two Cabinet Landscapes!  — TuNNO,Esq. Taplow Lodge.
Two Landscapes  J. Watts Russell, Esq. M. P.
Grand Landscape  (P'J- Miles, Esq. M. P. Leigh
t. Court, Bristol!
The Roman Augurs  Earl of Derby,
Mountainous Landscape, with-*
River and Figures (the same >T. Hope, Esq.
subject as the Soothsayers) . . . . J
Sketch of Jason and the Dragon . . Lord Radstock.
The Meeting of Ulysses and jEarl Harcourt, Nuneham
Nausicaa  5 Courtenay, Oxfordshire.

* From the Ghigi Palace. Under an engraving of this picture bv Pietro
Barboni, in the Author's possession, the title runs thus : — " II preteso Ales-
sandro, una volta nel Palazzo Ghigi, ora in Londra.''
f " Executed in his cheering manner, so happily exemplified J in hfs two
Marine Views in the Palace Pitti, in which he seems to excel Vernet."
VOL. II. 2 B

370 PICTURES In the Possession of
, ,, c „ T . ("Earl Waldegrave, Straw-
Jacob s separation from Liiban . . 1 ^ berry Hill.
Beggar Boys at Cards  { Vlsc0UNT Eardley, Belvedere
t House, Kent.
A Sea View with Rocks  -\
^, . / Sir R. Colt Hoare, Bart.
Democritus  \
The Castle of St. Angelo  ) Stourhead> Wilts'
„ _ f Marquess HASTiNGS.Donning-
Sea Storm  < TT .
I ton Hall, Leicestershire.
Mahomet, from the Covnaro -\
p . / Larl of Carlisle, Castle
rv j ai i ( Howard, Yorkshire.
Diogenes and Alexander  J
Jupiter and the Countryman  ("Earl of Sandwich, Hinchin-
(. brook House, Hants.
A Landscape  ASm Jos- CopLEY> Bait. Spots-
' _ brough Hall, Yorkshire.
Landscape with Banditti  j Sir H. Carr Ibbetson, Bart.
I Denton Park, Yorkshire.
ArSus  -^ Rev. Sir H. H. Aston Bruce,
Landscape with Banditti  \ Bart. Down Hill, London-
A Cave  ) &eiTy^
Diogenes and the Peasant  $ LoRD Gosford, Worlingham
* I Hall, Suffolk.
Peter's Denial of Christ  [ Marquis of Exeter, Burleigh
l House, Northamptonshire.
Three Philosophers  $ Wm> Hanbury, Esq. Kelmarsh
(. Hall, Northamptonshire.
A large Landscape with Figures. . f ViscountPalmerston, Broad-
i lands, Hants.

BY SALVATOR ROSA.

371

A Landscape 
Banditti  ,
A Poor Family 
St. Anthony Preaching to the 1
Fishes  [ Earl Spencer, Althorp,

In the Possession of
) Duchess of Dorset, Knosvle,
i Kent.

A Landscape 
Witches at their Incantations
Theseus and his Mother
Two Landscapes 
St. Thomas 

i
i
j

Northamptonshire-

}

Christ holding a Globe

Two Rocky Views
View of a Cavern
A Romantic Scene
Diogenes 
Wounded Soldier

Earl of Verulam, Gorham-
bury, Herts.
C Sir R. Bedingfield, Bart.
" i Oxburgh Hall, Norfolk.
{ Andrew Fountaine, Esq.
' I Narford Hall, Norfolk.
' { Duke of Bedford, Woburn
C Abbey, Bedfordshire.
( Marquis of Bute, Luton
I House, Bedfordshire.

Two Landscapes with groups of
Figures 
Two Landscapes, from the Col
lection of Cardinal Guglielmi. .
Two large Ditto 
Two spirited Sketches — Christ
bearing the Cross, and a Cruci
fixion 
Head of a Hermit contemplating
a Skull  J
2 B

Lord Arundel, of Wardour,
| Wardour Castle, Wilts.

372 PICTURES
PICTURES BY SALVATOR ROSA
IN THE
CONTINENTAL COLLECTIONS.

The Prodigal Son *  At Petersburgh.
I Collection of M. Danoit, at
Two Landscapes  [ Bruxelles.
Tobias and Azariast  (Late in) Paris.
f Keil, in Holstein : Gallery
St. Francis in the Desert  \ .,
I bchmidt.
Landscapes and Figure Pieces . . Ditto.
Saul and the Witch of Endort . . Paris, Royal Museum.
Grand Battle-piece  Ditto, ditto.
Great Landscape with many Fi- l Dusseldorf. (Electors Pala-
gures  5 tine.)
* From the Houghton Collection.
f There were several pictures of S. Rosa in the Hotel de Mazarin, now dis
persed. — See Entretiens sur les Vies et sur les Ouvrages des plus celebres Peinlres.
Par M. Felibien.
X " A most capital picture by Salvator is at Versailles, of which the subject
is Saul and the Witch of Endor ; and that singular performance displays the
merits of the painter in the strongest point of light. The attitude of Saul is
majestic ; while the expression in his countenance is a judicious mixture of
anxiety of heart, and eagerness for information. It is also observed, by good
judges, that there is a dignity in the character of the Witch. But it is a kind
of dignity very different from that of the monarch ; it is enthusiasm. In the
whole there is a wonderful spirit, and with that spirit, a freedom of pencil
that very few have equalled." — PilH>u>ton's Dictionary.

BY SALVATOR ROSA. 373

> Colonna Palace.

IN ROME.
St. John Preaching to a Group of}
Persons 
St. John in the Desert  Ditto.
Two small Views  Corsini Palace.
The Prometheus  Ditto.
Two Views — Rocks and Water . . Palace Spada.
Two Landscapes  Ditto.
Magnificent Marine View  Rospigliosi Palace.
St. Girolamo in the Desert  Barberini Palace.
Altarpiece in the Church of San 1
Giovanni de' Fiorentini  J
Belisarius, with magnificent Scenery Casa Doria. (a replico?J
Cain and Abel  Casa Doria. (Vasi.)
Marine View  1 In the Collection of Signor

}

Portrait of a Warrior  J Camuccini.
Philosopher and Satyr (the former-^ ^
a Portrait of Salvator Rosa) . . J
A Sorceress  Ditto.
A Witch *  Gallery of the Campidoglio.
* " Unless some pains be taken to preserve this picture, which is in a sad
plight, it must soon crumble iDto dust." — Private letter from Rome to the Author.
This picture so historically interesting, supposing it to be the Witch of the
Rossi Gallery, exhibits a withered, half-naked hag, seated — her foot placed
on a paper on which some astrological figures are placed, with a circle traced
round its verge — with equidistant tapers lighted round it. The hair of this
weird sister is dishevelled, and her wild eyes are bent fixedly on a book which
lies open on her knee. This work has suffered so much from time and neglect^
that it is difficult to ascertain all that original merit which induced Carlo Rossi
to veil it with a silken curtain : the back-ground, and some of the accompani
ments are almost obliterated ; even the expression of the countenance may

374 PICTURES
A Group of Armed Men  Gallery of the Campidoglio.
Landscape of River Scenery with"> Late in the gallery of Signor
a Group of Figures. S Giovanni Maldora.
Marine View— with the Miracle of 1 Lately purchased by Lord
the Money found in the Fish . . 5 Milton.
Four Pictures in the Chapel dK T t , , ,, n. D a
r / Lately purchased by His K. H.
Monte Santo, Dlaced there by > „ T <-vr 1 „
' * J i Prince Leopold, of Naples.
Carlo Rossi  J
Portrait of Masaniello  Gallery of Cardinal Fesch.

FLORENCE.
A Landscape a little blackened by^
time, with three Figures draped V Royal Gallery,
in white  j
The Lecadian Leap, painted on j
wood, in Chiaro scuro  5
Wood Scenery, with an Old Man"»
seated  y
A magnificent Landscape, fore-^\
ground of Rocks, and Water >
flowing round them  J
Portrait of Salvator Rosa, by him- j
self*  j
only be guessed at. His other " Strigonerie," or Witcheries, of which he was
so fond, have all disappeared from Rome. There are doubts entertained as
to the authenticity of the Maga in the Ghigi Palace.
* " Le portrait moral de Salvator Rosa est tracd dans le tableau qui fait le
sujjt de cet article. Le peintre y a fait passer son genie brulant, l'esprit saty-
rique dont il etait anime, et le feu celeste qui echauffe tous ses ouvragcs."
Galerie de Florence, lorn. 2. Paris, 1789.

BY SALVATOR ROSA. 375
A Philosopher showing a Masque j
to a Man  5
Great Battle Piece  Pitti Palace.
Two superb Sea Views, with large-)
Vessels afloat  3 PlT™ Falace.
St. Anthony's Temptations 
Justice, banished from Heaven,-\
takes refuge with some Peasants >
upon Earth  J
Fear * 
Peace Crowned with Olives, be--)
tween a Dove and a Lamb .... 3
Democritus among the Tombs . .
Jonas Preaching at Nineveh ....
Fall of the Giants 
Hagar in the Desert 
Mercury and the Peasant 
Tityus preyed on by a Vulture t •
* L'Effroi — Tableau de Salvator Rosa.
Le grand art du poe'te, du peintre, est de faire penser ; de n'indiquer au
spectateur, au lecteur, que le commencement d'une action, afin que leur
imagination, toujours active, lui donne son complement. Salvator Rosa a
suivi fidelement ce principe dans l'Effroi. Deux philosophes errent dans la
campagne. Le charme de leurs graves entretiens leur a fait quitter les chemins
battus. Ils veulent enfin les rejoindre, et suivre un senticr qui s'offre a leur
vue. Mais un laboureur survient ; ses traits et sa voix alteres annoncent aux
philosophes qu'ils couriraient de grands dangers, s'ils prenaient cette route
detournee. Salvator Rosa aimait a traiter des sujets de terreur ; et il y excel-
lait. Celui-ci en est une belle preuve. On admire dans le ciel une brillante
touche, et une savante distribution des nuages. Le coloris est vrai, et merite
au peintre une place distinguee parmi les paysagistes. Galeric de Florence, 1789.
f In the Galerie de Florence (in which is a fine engraving of this picture)

376 PICTURES

The Catiline Conspiracy  ( Casa Martelli. (Now in the
\ Pitti).
Two Fine Landscapes  Casa Capponi.

GENOA.
A great Picture representing -\
Christ chasing the Traders out > Cataneo Palace.
of the Temple*  J
Jeremiah restored to Liberty ....
Pythagoras 
A Fire t  Balbi Palace.

NAPLES. rGallery of the Archbishop of
Landscapes  \ „,
r ^ Iarentum.
r. • -kt- , , , . n • V Church of San Martino (Char-
Saint Nicholas de Ban  < I treuse.)

MILAN.
Assumption of the Virgin Mary . Chiesa della Vittoria.
The Purgatory  Gallery of the Brera.
the Prometheus or the Tityus is given among the pictures then in Florence, of
Salvator Rosa's. 1 am ignorant if this is a replico, or the original picture
bearing that name, in the Corsini Gallery at Rome. Some doubts are enter
tained at present of its being Rosa's.
* " Le Seigneur qui chasse les vendeurs du Temple, en figures et grandeur
naturelles, tres beau et tres rare chef-d'oeuvre du celebre Salvator Rosa." —
Galerie de Florence
t " Sur la grande porte, une Incendie, style de Salvator Rosa," says the
French catalogue of the galleries of Genoa.

BY SALVATOR ROSA. 377
ETCHINGS
BY SALVATOR ROSA.*
One volume of Military Dresses of various epochs — Banditti ;
figures and other capricci. Sixty pages, the title- leaf included.
Seven pieces (including the Apollo, the Glaucus, and two Saint
Williams.)
Six friezes containing Tritons, Naiads, &c. &c.
Seven pieces, including Alexander and Apelles, Diogenes, Plato,
Democritus, and some allegorical subjects.
Four pieces of different sizes, including Polycrates, Regulus,
CEdipus, and the Fall of the Giants.
Jason charming the Dragon.
Diogenes flinging away his Cup.
The Genius of Salvator Rosa, an allegory. Apollo and Nymphs,
&c. &c. making in all eighty-four engravings.
The original plates, nearly worn out, were sold by the present
family (descendants of Rosa) to the Roman Government for 1000
dollars ; and are now in the Papal Chalcographic Office.t
His Monogram is marked by an S and an R united. He also
occasionally inscribed his name thus — S. Rosa. %
SR Un S entrelace dans un R denote Silvestre Ravenas et Sal
vator Rosa, comme je l'ai dit ci-dessus dans R et S.
Dictionnaire des Monogrammes Lettres Initiates, Logogryphes, Re
bus, Sec ; traduit de VAllemand. Paris, 1762, pp. 272, 359.

* Pascoli says of S. Rosa, that he was " Bravissimo intagliatore in acqua-
forte, ed intaglio molte opere sue."
+ " Salvator left about ninety etchings executed in a spirited and masterly
manner : they are distinguished by an intelligent management of the chiaro
scuro and there is uncommon vivacity and expression in the heads."
See Bryan's Dictionary, article " Rosa."
X Copies were however, it is said, piratically executed by a living artist of
considerable merit.

378 PICTURES

ENGRAVINGS
AFTER THE MANNER OF SALVATOR ROSA, AND FROM Ills PICTURES.
The Catiline Conspiracy, by Rainaldi and Denon.
St. John preaching in the Wilderness, by Brown.
Belisarius, by Strange.
Two Landscapes, by Volpato.
Two great Clair-obscures, by A. Pond.
A large Allegorical piece, by Laurent.
Several pieces engraved at Vienna, by A. J. Prenne, in the Ca
binet of the Emperor. *
Landscape with rocky Mountains

, J. Ossenbeck.
and Soldiers

Abraham and Hagar  Ravenet.
Prodigal Son  Ditto.
Good Samaritan  Plasteels.
Diogenes and the Peasant  W, C. Edwards.
Fable of the Bundle of Sticks. . . . Isaac Taylor.
Jason  Boydell.
Jacob wrestling with the Angel.
David and Goliath 
Soldiers — from the Houghton Col- j- Earlom.
lection 
Head of the Prodigal Son
Tobit catching the Fish  G. Smith.
Xenocrates and Phryne  Grignon.
The Eunuch baptized  -\
St. John preaching in the Wilder- >Goupy.
ness  J
* See " Abrege de*la Vie des plus fameux Peintrcs," Tom. 1.

BY SALVATOR ROSA.

370

- Goupy.

A Book of 7 sheets, containing :
The Soothsayers 
Tobit (from Sir P. Methuen's)
collection 
Robbers (from Mr. Richardson's)
Jacob's Vision (from the Duke of
Devonshire's) 
Glaucus and Scylla (from Lord
Derby's) 
Sea Monster (from Duke of Rut
land's) 
Glaucus and Scylla  Winstanley.
Banditti in a Desert  Ditto.
Hagar and Ishmael  Ditto.
Temptation of Christ (Lord Cal-
ton's collection) 

¦ T. Phillips.

the END.

LONDON :
rnlNTED BV S. AND R. BENTLEY, DORSET STREKT.

CORRIGENDA.

VOL. II

Page 32

1.17,

for princes,

read prince.

— 34

note 1. I,

— che,

— chi.

— 52

— 1.8,

— despatched.

— dispatched.

— 54

1. 17,

— pena,

— peena.

— 56

note 1. 3,

— poet anel,

— poeta nel.

— 79

L. 14,

— and,

— or.

— 103

note 1. ult.

— una,

— uno.

— Ill

1.19,

— des cris.

— de cris.

— 135

t. 15,

— Cristian imiei,

— Cristiani miei,

— 139

1. ult.

— mortisque,

— et mortis.

— 188

1. 5 and 9,

— Caricata,

— Caricato.

— 201

1. 3,

— their

— its

— 20f>

1. 20,

— sequente

— seguente

— 226

1. 12,

— acquirement,

— acquirements.

— 232

1. 11,

— Cattolica.,

— Catolica.

— 250

1. 16,

— against,

— for.

— 309

1.12,

— Augusto,

— Agosto.

3 9002 00690 0204