Irma in Italy: A Travel Story

  CHAPTER XI

  TIVOLI--AND HADRIAN'S VILLA

  "Tivoli," said Irma, as they sat at luncheon in a pleasant garden notfar from the cascades, "has disappointed me."

  "In what way?" asked Uncle Jim.

  "Oh, the name sounds so bright and frivolous that you expect it to bevery gay here, and it isn't."

  "The cataracts are lively."

  "Yes, they foam and roar like the falls of Lodore, when you reach them,but Tivoli itself is a crowded little town, and the people seem solemn.Even the Temple of the Sibyl is shabby and dirty, without looking old."

  "Irma turning pessimist," cried Uncle Jim. "But the town isn't thewhole of Tivoli. Villa d'Este is charming enough, unless it has changedsince my day, and then there's the road to Hadrian's villa!"

  Marion took neither one side nor the other in the discussion. He hadtalked to Irma little enough since their Vatican visit a day or twobefore. Yet he was always polite, and she judged from the past that hissulkiness would not last long.

  The drive to the Villa d'Este was short, and as she stood on the terracelooking over the tops of the pointed cypresses, Irma admitted that thisview alone was worth seeing.

  "Ligorio, whom Cardinal Ippolito d'Este employed to construct thisvilla, was certainly an artist," said Aunt Caroline, "and I am sure itis true that there are few finer Renaissance villas in Italy."

  WALL OF ORVIETO. (_See page 211._)]

  CASCADES AT TIVOLI.]

  "If only it were not going to ruin so fast. Broken statuary andmoss-grown fountains are not very cheerful. But perhaps there are someamusing stories connected with the place. What has the guide been sayingto you?" said Uncle Jim.

  "Oh, he has been telling me that he is one of the most remarkableguides in Europe, with government certificates and letters ofrecommendation from innumerable tourists. The German Emperor depended onhim, so he says, on his visit two or three years ago, and, ah, yes--"The guide had brought the party to a stop as he pointed to a stone benchat the end of a path.

  "Yes," continued Aunt Caroline, "let us sit down, one by one, for thisis the bench on which the Kaiser rested to get full enjoyment of thevista of the house on the terrace at the end of the long avenue ofpointed cypresses. But come, he says he has even a finer view to show."

  A few minutes' walk brought the party to a wall bounding one side of thegarden, whence they had a wide outlook over a flourishing country.

  "He says," interpreted Aunt Caroline, "that where that large factorystands was Maecenas's villa, and that Horace also had a farm not faraway."

  "I could contradict him if it were worth while," said Uncle Jim,"although it is true enough that many eminent Romans, including Augustushimself, had villas in this neighborhood. But there are few sites ofwhich we are sure, except that of Hadrian's villa a hundred yearslater."

  The guide continued to pour out information and misinformation untilthe party returned to the carriage, and he was even anxious to go withthem to Hadrian's villa.

  "No, there we shall not need him," said Uncle Jim decidedly. "I havestudied the plans, and as we shall not attempt to explore a very largepart of the one hundred and seventy-nine acres, I believe I am equal tomy task of guide."

  Leaving their carriage at the entrance, the party was soon at thecustodian's house. Here Aunt Caroline and Irma lingered to comparepictures of Hadrian's villa as it is, with sketches showing the artist'sideal of its original splendor. Other tourists were wandering about thevast ruins, and the custodian was occupied with the first comers.

  "Whether a palace or a collection of palaces, it is the most surprisingruin I have ever seen," said Aunt Caroline. "Imagine what it must havebeen in Hadrian's day! Many of the finest statues now in Rome wereunearthed here a few centuries ago, and these mosaic pavements andbroken columns give us an idea of the whole. It was really, I suppose, acollection of magnificent buildings with baths and great halls and evenquarters for the imperial troops."

  Irma, walking about, had a strange feeling of loneliness; she had neverseen a building so vast. It brought before her more vividly thananything else she had seen the greatness of the Roman emperors. Shewished to be by herself, undisturbed by Aunt Caroline's continuousexplanations and Uncle Jim's facetious comments.

  "Over there," said Marion, whom she met unexpectedly at a turn, "anopening in the trees gives a fine view of the valley, with Tivoli on thehills beyond."

  As Marion did not offer to accompany her to the spot toward which hepointed, Irma went on alone. Uncle Jim and Aunt Caroline were not faraway, and would doubtless follow soon enough.

  "It was very good in Marion to tell me of this view," thought Irma, asshe looked over the valley. "He is getting over his sulkiness."

  After waiting a few minutes, longer perhaps than she realized, Irmaturned back to the place where Marion had spoken to her. But now therewas no one in sight but a distant custodian, who was engrossed by atourist. "Where is Marion?" thought Irma, "and why did Uncle Jim andAunt Caroline turn about so quickly?"

  At this moment she saw a small cube of green marble in her path. Thoughit was very like the marble of the pavement on which she stood, shecould see no broken place.

  "What a perfect paperweight it would make!" she thought. "I couldn'thave a finer souvenir from Hadrian's villa."

  But as she was about to pick it up, the custodian suddenly turned hishead. She wondered if she were doing wrong. Yet the little green cubestill fascinated her and she waited until the custodian and the touristhad moved out of sight.

  While she waited Irma made a few notes in her book, and when she at lastfelt that she could safely do it, she picked up the little piece ofmarble and dropped it in her bag.

  But now where should she go? She had a vague idea of the generaldirection, yet she knew that a wrong turn might lead her far from theentrance. How foolish she had been not to consult the custodian, and allfor a wretched piece of marble! For the moment she felt like throwing itaway.

  The feeling of melancholy she had had since first entering the villa nowincreased. The sun was low, and as she looked at her watch she saw itwas but ten minutes of train time.

  "If, by any chance, we should become separated, you and Marion mustsurely be at the station five minutes before train time," Uncle Jim hadsaid, while they were still in the carriage, pointing out the littlestructure, where the steam tram for Rome made a stop.

  "That is why they went on," thought Irma, "they supposed Marion was withme, and now what _will_ they think?"

  Now, strange though it may seem, when the tram pulled away from thelittle station, Uncle Jim and Aunt Caroline did not realize Irma'sabsence. After a hurried cup of tea, they had rushed for the cars with anumber of other passengers.

  "Where's Irma?" Aunt Caroline had asked anxiously, as she took her ownseat.

  "Oh, she's in the next car; I saw Marion helping her on." This was UncleJim's honest opinion. But the girl whom Marion was assisting politely,happened not to be Irma, but another girl of her general appearance, asit seemed to near-sighted Uncle Jim.

  Meanwhile Marion, quite unconscious that Irma was not with his uncle andaunt in the forward car, surrendered himself to a book.

  Poor Irma! She was not ashamed of the tears that began to fall, whenafter several minutes' walk she found herself back at a point near whereshe had found the unlucky bit of marble. It was far from a pleasantprospect that she might spend the night at Hadrian's villa, twenty-fivemiles from Rome.

  She had no intention, naturally, of sitting still, and she felt surethat eventually, probably even before dark, she might find her way outto the custodian's house. The last tram for the day had returned toRome, and she wondered who would give her shelter for the night.

  "Crying won't help," and she wiped away what she meant should be herlast tear. "I am sure I know the general direction, and if----"

  "Hello, hello," cried a cheerful voice behind her, "a lady in distress,and no one but me to rescue her. This is _remarkable_."

  Irma started to he
r feet, almost ready to throw her arms around thespeaker, whom she had instantly recognized. Before her stood the fairygodfather.

  It did not take long to explain the situation, though the old gentlemanwas rather outspoken in his words of blame for Marion and Uncle Jim.

  "Your uncle evidently thought the boy was looking after you, and I mustsay he deserves punishment, if he has gone back to Rome without you."

  "Oh, it is my fault for not staying with the others."

  "Well, well, that can be settled later; meanwhile, if you have reallyseen all you wish of Hadrian's villa, I will conduct you outside, whereI have a carriage and pair. We can soon reach Tivoli, where I can send atelegram that will meet your friends when they reach the end of theroute."

  "But when shall I go back to Rome?"

  "On the regular railroad from Tivoli. Fortunately it has an eveningtrain. Ah, here we are!"

  As Irma waited at the little building at the entrance to the grounds,where post cards and other relics were sold, she saw a piece of marble,almost the counterpart of the one that had made her lose her way. Shedid not buy it, in spite of her first impulse.

  "I believe it's not wrong for me to keep the other piece," she thought."In one way it has taught me a lesson."

  On their way to Tivoli the old gentleman seemed more inclined to getIrma's impressions of Rome, rather than to talk freely himself. She didnot, therefore, venture to ask where he had been since their landing atNaples, nor even whether he had been long in Rome.

  This last question seemed unnecessary, as the old gentleman'sconversation showed a wide acquaintance with modern as well as ancientRome. Irma had begun, however, to ask him one or two questions aboutRoman school children, when without replying he said abruptly, "Now,tell me, don't you think there are too many churches in Rome?"

  "There _are_ a great many," replied Irma, smiling, "and I shall not haveseen more than a tenth of them, even if I stay here a month longer."

  "Then you do not care for them?"

  "Oh, I simply haven't time. Indeed, I care for some of them. I used tothink church legends rather hard to believe, but now they mean much moreto me. Perhaps I did not like San Pietro in Montorio as well as someothers when I first saw it the other day, but it meant more when I foundthey believe it is built on the very spot where the apostle wasmartyred, and so, while the church of San Paolo seems too large andsplendid, still it is beautiful to have a church to mark St. Paul'sburial place."

  "Yes, Rome constantly reminds us what the martyrs suffered. You came outthe San Lorenzo gate to-day?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, the church of San Lorenzo just beyond honors St. Lawrence, whosestory is one of the most pathetic. He was assistant to the Bishop SextusII, and when the latter was condemned to death he begged that he mightdie with him. 'In three days you shall follow me,' said Sextus. St.Lawrence was a young man of great personal beauty, and he had been adevoted friend to the poor. Sextus directed him to distribute thetreasure of the Church among the poor, and when he was asked by theTyrant to show the treasure, he gathered about him those he had helped.His bravery and piety converted his jailer, Hippolytus, and he met hisdeath--roasting on a gridiron--with the greatest bravery. Whether thestory is wholly true, there was certainly a brave martyr named Lawrence.St. Cecilia, too, is another martyr who ought to interest you. Ah, Romeis full of such memories! But this is not a cheerful subject for a girlwho has lost her relatives." In an instant the old gentleman had turnedthe subject, giving Irma an entertaining account of Easter weekcelebrations that he had once seen in Rome.

  As a result of the despatch from Tivoli, Uncle Jim was at the station tomeet Irma.

  "You gave us a great fright," he said reproachfully. "We did notdiscover that you were missing until we had almost reached Rome."

  "Don't scold the young lady," said the fairy godfather. "It was thefault of that boy." He spoke so sternly that Irma was glad Marion wasnot present. Yet Uncle Jim did not resent this speech. It almost seemedas if he had met the old gentleman before. Then, with a bareacknowledgment of the thanks that Uncle Jim showered on him for his careof Irma and his thoughtfulness in telegraphing, the old gentleman jumpedinto a carriage and drove rapidly away.

  "Do you know him, Uncle Jim?" asked Irma.

  "I must have seen him on the _Ariadne_," he replied.

  "My dear Chris and Rudolph," wrote Irma a few days later.

  "This is to be a long letter, because we have a rainy day and I canspare the time. For my trunk is packed, and to-morrow we leave Rome.

  "In the first place, you wish to know about the seven hills. Well, Ibelieve they are all here, only they have been so built upon or solevelled that they are hard to find. Even in old times the Palatine andthe Aventine were the only hills worth speaking of, and they are stillfairly steep. Not so long ago they showed a small hut on the Palatinecalled Romulus's house that had been preserved since the earliest days.So it seems certain that Romulus and Remus were real people, and if weneeded more proof, not long since they discovered an old tomb in theForum which they are quite sure was the grave of Romulus. I have lookeddown into it, and am willing to believe this, too. On the Palatine noware the ruins of the enormous palaces of the emperors. Generally onlyparts of the high walls are standing, but from these you get an idea ofthe grandeur of ancient Rome. On the walls of one house (The House ofthe Pages it is supposed to be) they found a rough little drawing, suchas a boy might scratch on a blackboard to-day, the picture of a donkey,and under it: 'Work, little ass, as I have worked, and may it profitthee.'

  "Besides the palaces they have unearthed the small house of Germanicus,in which we saw some good wall paintings, and what would interest youmore, lead pipes for carrying water, almost like those we use in ourhouses.

  "We spent one day in the Forum with a special guide, who made everythingso plain! I saw the place where Caesar fell at the foot of Pompey'sstatue. They are constantly unearthing new things in the Forum, and AuntCaroline says it is really twice as large as it was when she was lasthere. The beautiful House of the Vestals interested me the most.

  "The Colosseum is some distance from the Forum, and you know it fromphotographs. Only no picture can really give you a good idea of itssize. When you stand inside you feel as if you were hardly larger than afly.

  "Rome, for the first few days, seemed like a big, new city, with brightshops and rushing trolley cars and _carabinieri_ in cocked hatssauntering about. But I soon began to see old Rome everywhere. You haveto patch it together as you go about. Pavements and columns from ancienttemples are found in the Middle Age churches. Alabaster and coloredmarbles from all over the world were brought to Rome, and as late as thefifth century there were thirty-six marble arches, hundreds of temples,and many great baths, circuses, and fine private houses, besides therows of tall houses arranged in flats in which ordinary people lived.There were also a great many fine statues, nearly all of which havedisappeared. In the Middle Ages, when people wished to build new housesand churches, they simply pulled down some fine old Roman temple orpalace and so got building materials without any expense. But there isenough of ancient Rome left to help form a picture of what it was.Sometime I hope you will see it all, the old wall with its towers, theAppian Way with its tombs and monuments.

  "But old Rome is only a part of what we enjoy. The streets are brightand gay with so many people driving about, and soldiers in uniformssometimes marching, sometimes walking along the sidewalks like ordinarypeople. Then often we meet twenty or thirty school children dressed justalike, taking exercise in the care of sisters, or priests in theirchurch dress. Then there are a great many theological students studyingin Rome, and some of them wear broad red or broad blue sashes, or haveother colored trimmings on their long black robes.

  "I dare say you are disappointed that we have not seen the king andqueen--I wrote mother about Margherita--but I have been all through theroyal palace, the Quirinal, and will tell you about it when I comehome."