Gleanings in Europe : $b Italy, vol. 2 of 2Cooper, James Fenimore
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Gleanings in Europe : $b Italy, vol. 2 of 2
Cooper, James Fenimore
Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851 -- Travel -- Italy; Italy -- Description and travel
The great staircase of the palace of Caserta is much the finest thing of
its kind in Europe. It is noble, beautiful, sufficiently light, and
admirably proportioned as well as ornamented. The staterooms are good,
though not more than half finished. But what palace in Europe _is_
finished? There may be a few, but I suspect that most are not. The
Louvre is half a waste, the Pitti has its uncovered arches mouldering
with time, and this of Caserta has not more than half of the best rooms
in a state fit to be used: still there are enough for so small a
kingdom, and more than are furnished. The palace on the exterior is a
parallelogram, of seven or eight hundred feet, by five or six hundred.
Internally, it has a beautiful distribution of courts, clustered round a
central nucleus, which nucleus contains the celebrated staircase. The
staircase is on the plan of that in the City Hall, New York, or a single
flight at the bottom, which is divided into two after the landing.
From Caserta we proceeded to Capua, where we passed the night. Some
ruins of no great moment, that are immediately on the highway, are
thought to point out the site of ancient Capua, the modern town being
about a mile distant. The latter is a mean dirty town, and certainly was
not the place that detained Hannibal so long.—By the way, this
much-talked-of delay was probably no more than the common expedient of
falling back from a wasted to a fertile country to recruit, and, in all
probability, was quite as much owing to exhaustion, as to a
demoralization of another kind. It is far more likely that his army
corrupted Capua, than that Capua corrupted his army.
The only specimen we had of Capuan luxury was a guitar at supper.
Finding we had lived in Florence, the musician gave us a song in honour
of “_Firenze, bella città_.” The guide-books say this word, Firenze,
means a red lily in the Etruscan dialect, and it is certain that there
is a lily in its arms. The arms of the Medici are literally
_pills_,—three _pills_, which were emblazoned all over the place. It is
a pity these pills are not a little more active, activity being all that
Tuscany wants.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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