LIFE-SIZE GROUP FOR PRINCE TRABIA.
One of the reasons that spurred me on to write these memoirs is this: Allowing that my works may with time not be entirely forgotten, I have wished to register them all in this book, that it should not occur after a certain time that some copy, some imitation, or unknown piece of sculpture, more or less praiseworthy than mine, should be attributed to me. For this reason, from the first I have mentioned even such works as are of no great size and importance, and will continue to do so, excluding, be it understood, reproduction, which would carry me to too great lengths. The Signora Maria Galeotti, nata Petrovitz, ordered from me a life-size group of her grandchildren, sons of Prince Trabia. This group reminds me of that most unfortunate robbery that I have spoken of further back, and this is why I am reminded of it. In the closet where I kept the money shut up that was stolen from me, there was a little of everything, papers, designs, tools, books, medals, and various little trinkets, that were respected—that is, not taken away, for they were scattered about on the floor. In this closet I also kept my clothes; and for convenience, or out of carelessness, amongst other things I had left a straw hat there. This straw hat of mine the thieves had put on the head of one of the little ones in the Trabia group, and it would have been really ridiculous to see the statuette of that little boy with my great straw hat hiding half of his head, had it only been at another time, because even now (and a good many years have passed), only to think of it—no, indeed, it does not make me laugh! And to think that of those gentlemen thieves, for there were several, some escaped the claws of justice, and some must have come out of "college" by this time, and if by chance they meet me, may smile to themselves under their beards at my simplicity. So goes the world; it is so fashioned, and has always been the same, even from the so-called prehistoric ages, and no instruction, either more or less obligatory, will change it one atom. As for me, when I am Minister of "Justice and Mercy" (devil take it, why not?) I will have engraved upon all the corners where one now reads "Stick no bills," the eighth commandment, "Thou shalt not steal; or if so, the whip will be administered and plenty of it;" and to my colleagues in favour of progress who rise up in arms against me I will answer: "A little luxury as regards the whip, my good gentlemen, will bring about great economy as regards the prisons and domiciliary compulsion, and what is more, will bring about a considerable rise in the funds—of public security. But it is said the lash degrades humanity. Perhaps it is degraded less by theft? In times not very remote, theft was punished much more severely even when it was not a very grave matter; but if it was grave and accompanied by the breaking open of drawers, the thieves were hanged outright. Certainly this punishment was excessive, Draconian, and in a word barbarous; and yet, in those days Arnolfo built, Giotto painted, and Dante wrote his immortal poem. Be it as it may, this is most certain, that thieves were then conspicuous by their very scarcity, whereas to-day they shine by their frequency; and vice versâ, Arnolfo, Giotto, and Dante then existed, e questo è quanto, as Marchese Colombi would say."
THE WHIP FOR THIEVES.
Count Antonio Pallavicini, a man cut out after the old-fashioned stamp,—one of the few who in their hearts keep to the religion of gratitude and affectionate remembrance of their dear relations,—gave me the order for a statue of his grandfather, Marshal Pallavicini, who was in the Austrian service under the reign of Maria Teresa. The Count told me an anecdote of this excellent grandfather that I wish to repeat, so that one may see how, though in a foreign service, the heart—I will not say of an Italian, for Italy was hardly spoken of then, but—of a Genoese and good republican beat. Here it is: The Republic of Genoa—I know not on what question with Austria—had become discontented, and threatened to resist by force the pretension of that powerful Empress, who, either because she was by nature careless and unmindful of public virtue, or because she thought of obtaining a better result, decreed that Marshal Pallavicini should move at the head of an army to put down Genoese arrogance. But this brave soldier—this worthy patriot—on coming into the presence of the sovereign, took off his sword, and placing it on the table, said with calm dignity—
MARSHAL PALLAVICINI.
"Your Majesty, it is impossible for me, a Genoese, to make war against my own country; and I therefore to-day give up this sword that I have so often used in the defence of your empire, that it may not be stained by the blood of my brothers." At which the Empress smilingly answered—
"Take back your sword, that is so well suited to you, and that you use so valorously; and as your service is denied us in reducing to obedience your dear but obstinate brothers, be at least our envoy to arrange the difficulties and treat of peace." And peace was concluded.
It must be agreed that the subject was a fine one and a worthy one, and the statue was made and placed in the cemetery of the Certosa at Bologna; but the above-mentioned anecdote, that I would have so willingly treated in bas-relief as portraying vividly the character of this personage, was not given me to carry out, because the base was entirely occupied by long Latin inscriptions that the Count would at all costs have engraved upon it, to set forth the whole family history, and the reasons for his gratitude and the erection of the monument.
About that time I had to make a little monumental memorial of Frate Girolamo Savonarola. The reason for my having this order was this,—that in Germany—I do not remember in what town—a monument had been put up to Luther, and one of the figures that adorned this monument was Fra Girolamo Savonarola; and how much to the purpose, all, excepting those good Germans, can see, for they know Savonarola as well as I do the Emperor of the Mississippi. The promoters of this work were Gino Capponi, Bettino Ricasoli, Niccolò Tommaseo, Raffaello Lambruschini, Augusto Conti, Cesare Guasti, and Isidoro del Lungo. I assisted at their meetings, and the idea that prevailed was to make the statue of Savonarola and place it in the cloisters of St Mark; but this intention we did not fulfil, because another commission had already been formed with the same purpose of doing honour to Savonarola, and this had already asked for and obtained the place in the cloister, the more readily as the statue was already made by Professor Enrico Pazzi. We therefore had to change our project, and after many propositions it was decided that the monument should consist of a bas-relief and bust to be placed in the friar's cell. This was done accordingly, and there it is to be found. The subject of the bas-relief is Savonarola before the Gonfaloniere and Priori of the Comune, reading the Government statutes proposed by him for the Florentine Republic. On one of the sides or flanks of the bas-relief is the youth Savonarola in pensive attitude meditating leaving the world and dedicating himself to monastic life, and on the other one are represented the last moments of his life when he is on the way to his martyrdom. The bust is in bronze.
MONUMENT TO SAVONAROLA.