Page 76
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The yellow, red and rusty tints of the 1902 autumn are spreading over the mountain slopes when I leave my town to go to Rome, for the first year of law school. An early afternoon train takes me to Naples and from there to the 11 P.M. for Rome.
It is my first experience of night travel. The third class had wooden benches, closely packed. Sitting in a straight position, the passengers wabble, lean on each other and gradually doze off. I am soon one of the leaners. Awakening at daybreak, I see misty plains and a blurred silhouette of a long series of slender arches. A co-traveler explains that it is an old roman aqueduct and offers additional information on other landmarks and hillside towns, as they speed past us. We arrive in Rome at 7 A.M. My friend Papa meets me at the train and there is exuberant mutual rejoicing.
The station is spacious and dignified. Outside you see lines of hotel buses, one-horse open cabs and two-horse closed carriages. No wrestling for passengers – no shouting or cracking of whips. This is the first note of order and restraint.
Facing the station, is Piazza delle Terme. It takes its name from the adjacent Thermae of Diocletian, which in the old days accommodated 3,000 daily bathers. Adjoining this square is Piazza S. Bernardo, with an impressive sculptured fountain, ejecting a copious flow of water. It is called Fontana dell’Acqua Felice (the fountain of Happy Water) and it gives indeed a touch of cheerfulness.
After crossing the two squares, our cab makes a couple of left and right turns. We go along a high retaining wall of a large villa and are on Via Veneto. Everything is quit. Only a few slow moving pedestrians. From Via Veneto we turn into Via Sicilia, at the right, and stop in front of five story apartment. A high-arched entrance, interior courtyard, one flight of cement steps, a small foyer, greetings from a pleasant couple.
Page 77
Papa’s second cousins – and we enter a room approximately 9 x 12 feet containing two beds, two chairs and a table in front of the window, facing the courtyard. Papa and I had arranged to share this room. The landlady served breakfast – a slice of white bread and a demitasse each. No fruit juice or cereal, no eggs or bacon, no toast or butter, no cream or marmalade – not even two cups of coffee! Thinking back, I now laugh at war restrictions on bacon, butter, cream and other luxuries.
The principal business of the day is to visit the University and comply with some of the routine requirements, which we plan to do leisurely.
Papa is my guide. We are here in a comparatively new residential section. Via Veneto is a wide street, with young shade trees on each side and attractive neighborhood shops. Two blocks to the right is Porta Pinciana, opening through one of the old walls of Rome and leading to Villa Borghese. The second building to the left is Villa Ludovisi, whose high retaining wall we passed on our way from the station. Here, surrounded by luxuriant gardens, is a stately palace, Palazzo Piombino, occupied by Queen Marguerite, the widow of King Humbert. Several times I had the opportunity of seeing the Queen leave the palace at the sound of trumpets, her royal carriage drawn by six white horses, escorted by a platoon of mounted cuirassiers, with golden helmets ending in white plumage.
On the opposite side are some hotels and numerous pensions patronized by foreign visitors, mainly British.
Walking down Via Veneto, at a rather steep grade, we reach Piazza Barberini in the center of which is Fontana del Tritone, a masculine bronze sculpture by Bernini, representing a Triton blowing a conch.
Going down on Via del Tritone and dell’Angelo Custode, we are on the main street of tome, the Corso, which is about a mile long and extends from Piazza Venezio to Piazza del Popolo. It is the hub of fashionable shops and always crowded with carriages and pedestrians. Straight ahead, we face the famous Piazza Colonna, named from the Column of Marcus Aurelius, which rises in the center of the square at a height of about 100 ft. This square has a character and charm of its own. Adjoining it are Palazzo Chigi and Piazza di Monte Citorio, with the Chamber of Deputies.
Page 78
There would be missing threads in the fabric of this story of mine, if I didn’t recall some of the deep impressions Rome made on my young life and which are still vivid in my memory. Certain data have been verified for my own reassurance. But these are only fleeting glimpses, within the limits of my scope and knowledge.
Turning left from Piazza Colonna and weaving through narrow streets, we reach another open space, backed by a huge circular structure with an imposing colonnade, the Pantheon. Its walls, said to be 20 ft. in thickness, offer a fine example of ancient brickwork. They were originally finished with marble and stucco, but I prefer to see the true, unsophisticated majesty of this old roman edifice which, in the sixth or seventh century, was consecrated as a Christian church and is now the resting place of many celebrated artists, among whom is Raphael.
King Victor Emmanuel II was buried here in 1878 and his son Humbert I twenty years later. I remember being one of the anxious spectators in the crowded square of the Pantheon, when an anniversary mass was celebrated in memory of King Humbert. His son, King Victor Emmanuel III, wearing a plain uniform and the simply attired Queen Elena, dark and tall, waited a long time under the Portico of the Pantheon for the belated arrival of Queen Marguerite. Finally, trumpets were heard, handsome cuirassiers came trotting and the royal brougham followed. Her Majesty slowly descending, dressed in a gorgeous white gown with a long train, carried by pages, received an uproarious ovation, notwithstanding the solemnity of the occasion. The people loved and worshipped Queen Marguerite, a plump small woman, but possessing all the stateliness of a real great Lady. Queen Elena, perhaps on account of her simplicity and origin from a primitive little country, Montenegro, never captured the popular fancy. However, she was held in high esteem as a devoted wife and mother of several children.
Leaving the Piazza del Pantheon, after a few intricate blocks, we are in Piazza S. Eustachio, facing ‘Universita’ della Sapienze (University of Knowledge), a large, square structure designed by Giacomo della Porta. Under its roof are guarded the priceless Biblioteca Alessandrina, a library of more than ten thousand volumes and many valuable collections of natural history.
Those famous Italian centers of learning received the title of Universities, because they were unrestricted, “universal.” Their doors and…
Page 79
…the doors of their rich libraries were unselfishly open to all comers. They were the fountain heads of the new era of European literature, law, medicine, scientific research, just as the great Italian masters were the leaders and inspirers of European Renaissance in the field of art…after the long blackout of Roman culture.
Founded by Pope Boniface VIII in 1303, when the beacon lights of Cimabue, Dante, Petrarca, St. Francis of Assisi, were about to rise into the world, l’Universita’ della Sapienza attained wide fame. Its first honorary degree, given to few others through the centuries, was conferred on Petrarca.
In 1927, on suggestion ventured by me, kindly received and endorsed by my magnanimous friend, His Excellency Pietro Fedele, that honor was bestowed on Dr. Nicholas Murray Butler, for having made possible the establishment of the Casa Italiana, under the auspices of Columbia University.
(photo)
1927 – Laying wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Victor Emanuel Monument – Rome. From left: Capt. Orsenigo, Dr. Nicholas Murray Butler, Joseph Paterno, Anthony Campagna
Next: Chapter 15
