The Harris-Ingram Experiment Part 23

The Harrises visited St. John Lateran, the mother-church of the Eternal City, where Popes were crowned, and where on Ascension Day, from one of its balconies, the Pope's benediction to the people is p.r.o.nounced.

They also visited the restored St. Paul's Church outside the walls. Its interior is of vast dimensions. It was built of valuable materials, and the whole is very imposing. Especially was Lucille impressed with the long series of portrait medallions of all the Popes from St. Peter to Leo X. worked in mosaic above the polished columns.

Many monuments in St. Peter's were erected to the memory of several of the famous Popes. The Vatican, the largest palace in Europe, is where the Popes came to reside after their return from Avignon, France, in 1377, for here they felt much security in the vicinity of the Castle S. Angelo, with which it communicated by a covered gallery. For a time the Popes vied with each other in enlarging and embellis.h.i.+ng the Vatican, which covers an immense s.p.a.ce, and is a collection of separate buildings; the length is 1150 feet, and the breath 767 feet. The Vatican is said to contain 20 courts, and 11,000 halls, chapels, salons, and private apartments, most of which are occupied by collections and show-rooms, while only a small part is set apart for the papal court.

The Harrises visited the most celebrated portions of the Vatican; the Scala Regia, covered with frescoes of events in Papal history, the Sistine Chapel, adorned with fine frescoes by Michael Angelo, including the Last Judgment. Here the Cardinals meet to elect the Pope, and here many of the most gorgeous ceremonies of the Roman Catholic Church are performed.

Equally enthusiastic were Leo and Lucille over Raphael's superb frescoes in the Loggie, and in the chambers adjoining. The few pictures in the gallery are scarcely surpa.s.sed. The museum contains some of the n.o.blest treasures of art, including the Laoc.o.o.n, and Apollo Belvidere. The library is very valuable. The superb palace of the Quirinal has beautiful gardens.

Besides the several elegant public palaces in Rome, there are in and near the city over sixty private palaces or villas; the finest of which is the Barberini Palace. Several of the villas are located above terraces amid orange and citron groves, and they are ornamented with statues and fountains. Leo with pride took his friends to see the Colonna Palace, which contained many old portraits of his family.

After dinner a drive was taken outside the Porta del Popolo to the magnificent Villa Borghese and the Pincian Hill. It was planned to visit on the morrow the gallery Borghese, next to the Vatican, the most important in Rome. It was dark as Leo returned with his party to the hotel. The landlord handed him a gentleman's card which read,

Mr. Ferdinand Francisco Colonna.

Piazza Colonna, Rome.

The landlord said that this gentleman was waiting for Leo in the reception-room. Leo at once recognized the card as that of his cousin, who was an attorney in Rome, and he hurried to meet his relative. They grasped hands warmly, and soon were in earnest conversation.

Ferdinand, taking a large official envelope from his pocket, opened it and began reading what he called a very important paper. It was a copy of the will of their rich uncle, who had just died, while inspecting his possession in Sicily. Leo Colonna bore the name of this uncle, his father's oldest brother, who was fond of art, and who was never married.

He had always been attached to Leo, his nephew, and in his will Leo was made his sole heir. Great was Leo's surprise to learn that he was now not only the owner of a fine palace southeast of Rome, but of large possessions in Rome, Sicily, and South America.

Leo leaned back in his chair, his eyes closed, his face changed color and the muscles of his hands and face twitched as if he were in pain.

Suddenly he recovered possession of himself and said, "Ferdinand, you almost paralyze me by the news you bring. Am I dreaming, or not?"

"No, no, Leo. This is a copy of the will of our uncle. The original will is in my safe. By this same will I am to have 100,000 lira for a.s.sisting you. I am now at your service."

"Ferdinand, you bring sad and glorious news. What is your advice?"

"That we file the original will at once in the proper court, and that you proceed with me immediately to Marino to take possession there of your palace and property."

"Agreed, Ferdinand. We will leave Rome for Marino at noon tomorrow.

Meet me here, as I may have friends to join us."

Leo hastened at once to tell the good news to the Harrises, who were nearly as much elated as himself, and it was agreed that all would join Leo in his proposed trip. It was late that night when Leo and Lucille separated in the parlor below. Each had dreamed of castles in Spain, but now it looked as if Leo and possibly Lucille, might actually possess castles in Italy.

That night Leo told Lucille much about the princely Colonna family of Italy, which originated in the 11th century. Pope Martin V., several others who took part in the contest between the Guelphs and the Ghibellines, and many others of the Colonna family had attained to historical and literary distinction.

Lucille was interested in the story of the great naval battle of Lepanto in which Marc Antonio Colonna aided Don Juan of Austria to gain a world-renowned victory for Christianity against the Turks, the first effective triumph of the cross over the crescent. Leo recited the story of the life of the ill.u.s.trious Vittoria Colonna, pictures of a bust of whom Lucille had seen that day in Rome.

Vittoria, and the son of the Marquis of Pescara, when children four years old, were affianced, and in their seventeenth year they were married. The young bride bravely sent her husband to the wars with a pavilion, an embroidered standard, and palm leaves, expressing the hope that he would return with honors, for she was proud of the Colonna name.

Vittoria full of genius and grace, idealized her young showy cavalier, who was gallant and chivalrous. Her brave knight Pescara, among other victories, won the battle of Pavia, and finally died of his wounds in Milan before she could reach his side. Vittoria Colonna buried her love in Pescara's grave at Naples. Her widowhood was a period of sorrow, song, friends.h.i.+p, and saintly life. She was tall, stately, and dignified; of gracious manners, and united much charm with her culture and virtue. She is considered the fairest and n.o.blest lady of the Italian Renaissance.

Vittoria Colonna was on intimate terms with the great men and women of her day, and in close sympathy with the Italian reformers. Michael Angelo was warmly her friend. His strong verses full of feeling to Vittoria were replied to in gentle, graceful strains. She died as the sun sank in the Mediterranean on the afternoon of February 25, 1547, Michael Angelo regretting as he saw her, lying on her death-bed, that he had not kissed her forehead and face as he had kissed her hand.

As Lucille retired that night she felt the force of Vittoria's n.o.ble life, and longed to emulate one so related to her friend Leo. She felt her own heart drawing nearer to Leo's, and in the silent hours of the night, she sometimes wondered if she should ever bear the honored name of Colonna.

Next day at 12 o'clock promptly, Leo's cousin came, and the Harrises and Leo took the Rome and Naples line for Marino, located sixteen miles southeast of Rome, where Vittoria Colonna had lived, and where Leo expected to find and take possession of his own palace and property.

The Roman tombs of the Via Appia on the right were soon left behind.

A dozen miles out and Frascate a summer resort was conspicuous with its many lovely villas. Later the party left the train and enjoyed a beautiful drive of three miles to Marino, a small town famous for its wine, and located on the Alban Mountains. In the middle ages, the Orsini defended themselves here in a stronghold against their enemies the Colonna, but the latter under Martin V. captured Marino, which with the surrounding country has remained a fief of the Colonna family to the present day.

Ferdinand had already attended to much of the detail at Marino, so that Leo, as owner of the vast Colonna estate, was loyally received by the villagers, the tenants, and the old servants. Leo made his friends, the Harrises, most welcome at his unexpected and palatial home. The Harrises were delighted at what they saw. Leo and Lucille took several drives together over the large estate. Once they drove along the shady roads, commanding extensive views, through the beautiful park of Colonna, and down a well wooded valley to the clear waters of the Alban Lake. Often Leo wished that Alfonso had accompanied him.

For some time before leaving Rome, Lucille had complained of a dull headache and chills at night. In France Mrs. Harris was fearful that the summer trip to Italy was not wise, but Leo and her family thought the yacht voyage to Naples would be charming. On the morning of the third day at Marino, Lucille was unable to leave her bed. Leo hastily called a physician who found her pulse very low. She experienced great thirst and nausea, and the heat of her body was much increased. When the doctor learned that Colonel Harris's daughter had slept in Rome with the window open, he at once declared to the family that Lucille had Roman fever, that dreaded malaria which is engendered in summer months near the marshes of Italy. Leo summoned to Marino the ablest physicians of Rome, who were in constant attendance, and heroic treatment was adopted.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Harris were half crazed with the fear of losing their beautiful daughter, and Leo himself was nearly frantic. Lucille grew rapidly worse. Her strength and courage failed her, she became unconscious, and as the tall white lily in the midday sun loses its beauty and life, so Lucille pa.s.sed from earth, her agonizing mother holding the dead daughter's slender white hands.

Leo fell insensible and was removed from the death-chamber by his servants. Womanly courage returned to the mother after a few moments of intense grief, and aided by others the necessary preparations were made for the removal of Lucille to America.

Captain Harry Hall with his yacht en route to Athens had called at Brindisi to get a reply from a most important letter of his mailed to Lucille at Palermo. As he stepped ash.o.r.e a telegram was handed him announcing the sudden death of the woman he loved. He was so shocked that his friends were alarmed. After a short conference Harry wired Colonel Harris the use of his yacht to carry back to America the remains of beautiful Lucille.

While Colonel Harris was writing an acceptance of Captain Hall's services, a second telegram came announcing the death, by drowning, of his only son Alfonso in the Zuider Zee at Amsterdam. How true that misfortunes never come singly!

Beneath the pillow on which Lucille died, were found two unanswered letters, proposals of marriage, one from Leo and one from Captain Hall.

The broken hearted mother took charge of these letters, and before the metallic coffin was sealed, the unanswered letters were placed in Lucille's white hand, over the heart that could not now decide.

Later the casket was put on board the yacht "Hallena" at Rome, and Captain Hall with his flag at half-mast steamed towards America with the woman, who could never on earth accept the tribute of his heart. Leo, now Marquis Colonna, true chevalier that he was, insisted that he be permitted to accompany Colonel Harris to Amsterdam in search of his son Alfonso.

CHAPTER XXII

COLONEL HARRIS'S BIG BLUE ENVELOPE

The honeymoon of George and Gertrude included not only the two delightful weeks in Switzerland, but also the ten or twelve days on a slow steamer returning to New York. The weather at sea was all that could be desired.

The longer a smooth sea-voyage, the better lovers are pleased. Return ocean pa.s.sages usually furnish the much needed rest after a so-called vacation abroad. Overworked Americans need, not so much an entire cessation of activities, as a change of occupation, which usually, brings the desired results.

George and Gertrude made but few acquaintances on the steamer. The thought that each possessed the other was enjoyment that satisfied, and both were happy. Each lived as in dreamland, and scarcely observed even the daily runs made by the steamer. The death by accident of a sailor, and his strange burial at sea, served only for a brief time to arrest a happiness made complete by each other's voice and presence. The two weeks on the ocean came and went as softly as flowers unfold and disappear.

Thus far, married life had been ideal.

It was after eleven o'clock, and anxious pa.s.sengers were pacing the decks, hoping to sight native land before retiring. Suddenly the officer on the bridge discerned the dim Fire Island Light, bearing north by west, twenty miles distant. Ten minutes later, five points on the port bow, a pilot boat was sighted. Her mast-head light was visible, also the torch, which soaked in turpentine, burnt brightly at intervals.

The steamer signals, "We want a pilot," by burning a blue light on the bridge, and bears down on the pilot schooner. The moon reveals enormous figures, with a heavy dot beneath, on the mainsail of the schooner. Over the rail goes the yawl, followed by the oarsman and pilot, whose turn it is to go ash.o.r.e. The pilot carries a lantern, which in the egg-shaped yawl dances on the white wave crests up and down like a fire-fly. The yawl is soon under the steamer's lee, and a line from the big s.h.i.+p pulls the little boat to the ladder, and the pilot nimbly climbs to the steamer's bridge, bringing the latest papers. The schooner drifts under the steamer's stern, takes in the yawl, and again sails to the eastward in search of another liner.

The entrance to the port of New York is patrolled night and day by a pilot-fleet of thirty boats, which cost from $10,000 to $20,000 each.

They are staunch and seaworthy, the fastest schooners afloat. Often, knocked down by heavy seas, for a moment they tremble, like a frightened bird, then shaking the water off their decks, they rise, heave to, perhaps under double reefed foresail, and with everything made snug, outride the storm, and are at their work again. Pilots earn good pay, and this they deserve, as they often risk their lives in behalf of others.

Sandy Hook Light was now in sight, and long before the sun began his journey across the heavens, the steamer lay at anchor at quarantine, waiting for a certificate from the health officer. As the steamer proudly sped through "The Narrows," a jubilant crowd of pa.s.sengers on the promenade deck sang,

"My country 'tis of thee Sweet Land of Liberty, Of thee I sing; Land where my fathers died; Land of the pilgrim's pride; From ev'ry mountain side Let freedom ring."

The hymn was sung to the tune of "G.o.d Save the Queen," and several enthusiastic Englishmen joined with their kith and kin.

On Bedloe's Island Bartholdi's Statue of Liberty waved her torch, outward bound steamers exchanged salutes, the Brooklyn Bridge and all the ferries were thronged with people hurrying to the labor marts of the metropolis, as the steamer with George and Gertrude aboard moved up the harbor and was safely docked on the North River.

In the lead down the gangway Gertrude hastened George to secure a carriage for their hotel, so anxious was she to reach rooms on American soil, where she might honorably break the seal of her father's mysterious big blue envelope. It had rarely been out of her mind since the day of her wedding in Paris.