“Constantino Brumidi, the artist, died yesterday morning at his residence, 921 G Street, at 6:30 o’clock. For months past he has been failing, but until within two weeks has been able to work every day in his studio, and was dressed and sat up each day until the one preceding his death. For a fortnight he has been failing rapidly. The last twenty-four hours before his death he was unconscious, but at the last moment he recognized those around him. The funeral will be attended from the house on Saturday. Mr. Brumidi leaves no family in this city except an adopted son, who bears his name and has adopted his father’s profession.

“Almost until the last hour he continued his work on the frescoes in the dome of the Capitol, though compelled to sit instead of standing, his hand and eye were as true and strong as ever, and the work from that point on shows no loss in spirit or excellence of execution. For months the little scaffold that clings to the wall in mid air under the dome of the Capitol has been deserted, and curious strangers, looking at the neglected cartoons hanging over the railings have been told that Brumidi would never come back to finish his frescoes. It was the dream of his life that he should come back. He wanted with his own hand to lead that historic procession round the dome till the encircling frieze should be complete. Of late, as growing infirmities have pressed upon him, he has gradually abandoned the hope and occupied himself in enlarging his original cartoons to working size, so that any artist might complete the work by simply following copy.—He lies in the pleasant parlor studio of his house, in death as in life, with his work about him. Half-finished designs are sketched on the walls, and busts and statuettes fill the corners; canvas and palette are on the easel.”

In the Senate of the United States on February 24, 1880, four days after the burial of Brumidi, two speeches were made in reference to the artist, one by Senator Voorhees of Indiana, and another by Senator Morrill of Vermont. Senator Voorhees eulogized Brumidi in this manner:

“May I not be pardoned some brief mention of the wonderful genius, so long, so gently, and so beautifully associated with this Capitol? He died poor, without money enough to bury his worn-out body, but how rich the inheritance he has left to the present and succeeding ages! During more than a quarter of a century he hovered along these walls from the basement to the Dome, leaving creations of imperishable beauty wherever his touch has been. Wherever he paused by a panel, or was seen suspended to a ceiling, there soon appeared the brilliant conceptions of his fertile and cultivated mind. We can form no correct idea of the extent, the variety, and the perfection of his taste and skill as an artist without sometimes forgetting our pressing cares, as we look in detail over his field of labor.”

Senator Morrill spoke of the artist in these words of friendship and understanding:

“Covering as he has done so much space with his fresco paintings—so difficult and so durable—it is wonderful that so great a part should be fairly excellent and so little that

BRUMIDI STAIRWAY

So long has the name Brumidi been associated with the lovely cherubs about the Capitol Building that even this bronze staircase has come to be called a “Brumidi Stairway.” Two such Brumidi stairways lead from the House Chamber and two from the Senate Chamber. Hazelton wrote in 1897, “Brumidi made the attractive designs of the eagle, deer, and cherubs for all the railings upon paper; they were modeled by Baudin and cast in Philadelphia.” Mr. Baudin wrote from Philadelphia to Captain Meigs in 1857, “...I am waiting for the drawings for the stair rail....”