Whilst I am speaking of favours received and the manner in which I requited them, independent of the sentiment of gratitude which I always preserve for those who have rendered me a service, I must add that Mrs Macartney was pleased with the little bust of Beatrice; so also was Del Benino more than delighted with a bust in marble of the boy Raphael which I had copied from a painting by his father, Sanzio, who had painted the little boy when six years of age. At the bottom of this portrait was written in red, "Raphael Santii d'anni sei, Santii patre dipinse."
I saw this work of mine only a few years ago in the palace belonging to the heirs of Count del Benino.
As I have alluded to that excellent man—of whom, as you see, I retain such an affectionate remembrance—I will mention that I asked permission of his heirs by letter to be permitted at my own expense to make a little memorial of him in marble, and to place it in the chapel of the villa where Del Benino was buried; but I have never received any answer.
It appears that works either for love or money are not wanted. Here is another example of this. It must be now four or five years since the lamented Professor G. B. Donati, the astronomer, came to my studio with the engineer Del Sarto, to tell me that the commune of Florence intended to place a sun-dial on one side of the Ponte alla Carraja, exactly at the beginning or end of the terrace, where there is at present a kiosk; and in order to have an elegant and artistic thing, it came into the head of Donati, or some one of the Municipal Council of Art, to have a figure in bronze holding a disc on which should be marked the meridian, and the hand of this figure should be held gracefully in such a manner that its shadow indicated the hour. The idea pleased me. I made a sketch, and Del Sarto the engineer sent me the exact dimensions of the terrace. He liked the sketch, and asked me what the cost of such a work would be, adding that unless the price was small they would not be able to order it. I replied that nothing could cost less than this, as I intended to present the model, and the Municipality would only have to pay for the casting in bronze. I had an estimate made by Professor Clemente Papi, who asked a very reasonable sum—seven or eight thousand lire, I believe; and he signed a paper to this effect, which, at the same time with a letter I had written repeating the offer of my work gratis, I sent in an envelope to the Municipality: and since then I have heard nothing. Poor Donati is dead; the sketch and the model of the terrace are in my studio. Count Cambray Digny was then syndic. On Ponte alla Carraja, in place of my statue, there is a kiosk where papers, wax-matches, &c., are sold. Even this is not the last of the statues I have offered as a present which have not been accepted, but I will not mention them here.
FIGURE FOR A SUN-DIAL.
Meanwhile, as I was finishing the model of Cain, the Grand Duchess Maria Antonietta ordered of me a statue for the Uffizi. I selected Giotto, and she presented this statue to the Commission for erecting statues of illustrious Tuscans, which, while they ornament the Loggia, serve to recall past glory and to advise one to study more and to chatter a little less. In roughing out the statue I found a flaw which split the marble in two. I was obliged to throw it away and to buy another block. When the good Grand Duchess heard of this, she insisted upon repaying me the price of the new marble. I note this because so generous an act is uncommon.
ABEL HAS KILLED CAIN.
The Cain was exhibited, and, as was natural, was less liked than the Abel,—first of all, because the enthusiasm raised by the former statue had too sensibly wounded the self-love of many; and then, because some of my friends were too zealous, and their excessive praise of it before it was on exhibition created a public opinion in its favour which perhaps was not justified by its merits, for the difficulties of the subject were very great. With a phrase more witty than just, they said, "This time Abel has killed Cain;" but Bartolini, who generally liked wit, said this was unjust and stupid, and declared that I had overcome a thousand times greater difficulties than in the Abel. But that witticism was prompted by suspicion and passion, and it came from those same persons who said that the Abel had been cast from life.
Being proposed by Bartolini, I was elected Professor of the Academy. At that time, being invited by some of my townsmen, I went to Siena, where I was received with warmth and fraternal love. I was a guest of the Bianchis—of that charming Signora Laura who had always been so good to my poor mother and my family. That dear lady, and Carlo, who is still alive, and Luigi, who, alas! was too soon snatched away from the love of his relations and of Siena, rejoiced in seeing me made the subject of honour and ovation by all the citizens, who came to the palace to greet me.
I remember with emotion that crowd of people, and those deputations of the contrade and academies of the city, sent to bring me salutations and presents. These were the first flowers that I gathered and smelt in the garden of my youth; and their perfume I still smell, and it is now perhaps even more delightful, for it is associated in my memory with a time when I had no remorse.