Autobiography of Sir John Rennie, F.R.S. 8

Autobiography of Sir John Rennie, F.R.S. 8

It is singular that the same emperor should have constructed a like work

in a similar situation and in the same manner at Civita Vecchia, on the

opposite coast of Italy, after every attempt had been made to establish

a port by his predecessors at Ostia, which was built at extraordinary

expense, and has been filled up by the alluvial matter brought down by

the Tiber and from the sea by the littoral currents, so that it is now

three miles from the sea.

 

The principle of construction used in these works resembles a good

deal the mode adopted by the Phœnicians at Tyre, and subsequently by

the Carthaginians at Carthage, and by the moderns. The Romans also

employed the hollow mole, that is, a mole constructed with arches, by

means of which the current charged with alluvial matter was enabled to

pass through the mole, and thus any deposit within or without the mole

was to a great extent prevented. The harbour of Civita Vecchia remains

serviceable at the present day for vessels drawing 20 feet of water,

although, as may be naturally expected, a certain deposit has taken

place during the lapse of so many centuries which requires to be dredged

out occasionally. At Ancona only one pier was built on the south side,

and consequently an eddy and stagnation took place on the north side,

as the littoral current runs from south to north, and therefore there

is a tendency to deposit on the north side. The French when masters

of Italy commenced another mole on the north side, thus enclosing a

considerable space of sea so as to form a close harbour, which no doubt

is of great service; still, from the nature of the local circumstances,

a certain deposit may always be expected. This, however, can be removed

by dredging, and the harbour may always be preserved in a state of

efficiency if the extent of trade will warrant the expenditure necessary

for the purpose.

 

On reaching Rome, it is difficult to express the emotions I felt on a

first sight of the Holy City, surrounded by the desolate Campagna, the

Tiber rolling in front, the Castle of St. Angelo, and the numerous towers

of churches rising out of the mass of houses, crowned by the gorgeous

dome of St. Peter’s elevated in proud majesty above the whole, backed by

the magnificent views of the ancient city, once the mistress of the world.

 

This most interesting, I may say, most thrilling, sight lay before me

in all its solemn majesty. When I considered that it rose from a few

insignificant shepherds’ hovels to imperial splendour, then became the

prey of the barbarian hordes of the north, and lastly, the throne of

the Catholic Christian world, I was awed by the wonderful decrees of

Providence, and at the instability of all human grandeur. I lay restless

all night; I could scarcely realize the fact that I was actually in this

wonderful, all-absorbing city, to visit which from my childhood had been

one of the greatest objects of my ambition. It would be vain to attempt

to describe in detail its numerous splendid buildings, both ancient and

modern, its museums, and its countless treasures of priceless art. I will

merely remark that there is no city in the world more worthy of a visit

than Rome, or where greater gratification and instruction can be derived;

for example, the aqueducts and the Cloaca Maxima show how thoroughly

the Romans understood the importance of sewerage and good water for the

preservation of human life, an importance that is only now beginning

to be recognized in England, while there still remains very much to be

accomplished.

 

My friend Colonel Aitchison was obliged to hasten his departure. I then

took lodgings in the Piazza de Spagna, and devoted myself to the study

of the Italian language, architecture, and drawing, and in my leisure

moments entered into society; and fortunately at that time there were

assembled there some of the most distinguished characters in science,

literature, and art, besides diplomatists and leaders of fashion, from

the various capitals of Europe. Amongst the first may be mentioned the

celebrated chemist and philosopher, Sir Humphry Davy, and his talented

wife, under whose hospitable roof I passed many happy days, and at the

same time received much valuable instruction. I made acquaintance with

the Marchese Martinette, the scientific engineer, who at that time

devised the extensive hydraulic works for the improvement of the rivers

and drainage of the marsh-land districts of Bologna and Ferrara, from

whom I derived much information. I also met the well-known antiquary, Sir

W. Gell, who to his interesting memoir of Greece afterwards added much

towards explaining the antiquities of Rome, and in his agreeable society

I spent many a pleasant day. Dodwell too had just returned from Greece;

and I made the acquaintance of that prince of sculptors, Canova, to whom

my father had given me a letter of introduction. I frequently went to his

studio, where he always received me with the greatest kindness. He was

then at work on the model of his famous dying Madeleine, which struck me

as a masterpiece of elegance and beauty, combined with the resignation

and piety which so pre-eminently distinguishes it as a beautiful specimen

of art. Nobody could be more kind, amiable, and modest in his manner

than that distinguished sculptor. Flattered by emperors, kings, and the

great and cultivated of every land, he never for a moment forgot himself

or appeared to be elated, or to be put out of his ordinary simple,

unobtrusive manner; whilst to his brother artists he was equally kind

and familiar; to his inferiors he was always gentle and considerate,

giving his humbler fellow-workers every encouragement and advice,

cheering them on their way, and not unfrequently assisting them with his

purse when their necessities required it. He was devoted to his art,

of which he was so eminent a professor, and with it combined all those

amiable and charitable feelings which rendered him an universal favourite

and a benefactor to mankind.

 

I made acquaintance also with the great Dane, Thorwaldsen, who frequently

admitted me to his studio. He was totally different from Canova. His

square, massive head, covered with a redundance of flowing locks;

his finely-developed countenance, beaming with talent and firmness

of purpose; his colossal and well-proportioned figure, and erect and

commanding gait, all combined to raise in the mind of the spectator a

degree of respect and admiration not usually to be met with. Yet with all

this apparent sternness there was combined a happy mixture of gentleness,

genial sociability, and good-nature, which, after a little acquaintance,

soon made you feel at home with him; and the more you knew him the more

you liked him. He was then at work upon the colossal figures of the

Twelve Apostles, for the church at Copenhagen, a commission given to him

by the King. Several of these were finished, and magnificent specimens of

art they were. I have since seen them in their places, and have looked

at them with increased admiration. His Triumph of Alexander had just

then been completed, and a finer specimen of bas-relief it is impossible

to see. It is singular that with all this nobleness of character, and

being withal a perfect master in his art, this great man--for certainly

he was so in his sphere--should have looked upon Canova as his rival,

and disliked him with a dislike almost amounting to hatred, whereas the

gentle Canova had no such feeling towards Thorwaldsen.

 

Their styles, moreover, were so totally different from each other, that

there could be no reason for jealousy between them. Canova excelled in

the female form, where nothing but elegance, gentleness, and grace are

required, although he by no means failed in the male figure; whereas

Thorwaldsen excelled in that of the male, where force, manliness, and

dignity are mainly requisite. Both were at the head of their profession

in their respective styles, and both have left behind them numerous

masterpieces of art, which have never been surpassed in ancient or modern

times.

 

In addition to these celebrities, there were Lawrence, Chantrey, and

Turner, all engaged in their respective walks of art. These I had known

in England, and I received much kindness and instruction from them, and

enjoyed the greatest pleasure in their delightful society.

 

Numerous great houses were at that time open for the reception of all the

celebrities of Roman and foreign society, to which I had access. Amongst

many others may be mentioned those of the beautiful Princess Borghese,

the Duchess of Devonshire, and Lord William Bentinck. At the house of

the Duchess of Devonshire I was introduced to the polished courtier and

priest, Cardinal Gonsalvi, at that time Minister of Foreign Affairs to

the Pope, whose graceful manners and elegant language, combined with a

vast fund of information, enchanted everybody. I also met Thomas Moore,

who enraptured the whole audience by singing his fresh melodies, with

a degree of pathos, taste, and feeling which was peculiarly his own.

Neither must I forget Lady Morgan, whose lively and constant prattle

afforded much amusement, not altogether destitute of information.

 

At the hospitable house of Lord and Lady William Bentinck I saw the

_élite_ of English society, where I was frequently a welcome guest.

Amongst others, appeared the beautiful Miss Canning, afterwards the

Marchioness Clanricarde, and the silent, amiable, and unfortunate Lord

William Russell, who afterwards fell a victim to his servant, the

assassin Courvoisier.

 

To enumerate all the agreeable and talented persons of whom I had the

honour of making the acquaintance at Rome would be foreign to my purpose,

and out of place here. Suffice it to say, that the winter of 1819, which

I passed at Rome, was one of the most agreeable and instructive of my

life, and will ever be remembered by me with the most lively feelings

of satisfaction. Before leaving I had the honour of being presented to

the benevolent Pius VII., and was much captivated with his kind and

unostentatious reception. After witnessing the Church ceremonies of

Christmas, I left Rome just before the Carnival. I passed through Castel

Gandolfo, and afterwards came upon the Pontine Marshes.

 

The Pontine Marshes consist of a low tract of land, extending from the

elevated ridge of Castel Gandolfo to a spur of the Apennines, which

approach the Mediterranean near Velletri, being a length of about 20

miles, whilst on the east they are bordered by the Apennines, from whence

numerous streams and torrents descend into the marshes; and on the west,

or sea side, they are bounded by a line of sandbanks, or dunes, thrown

up by the waves and storms from the west; so that they form, as it

were, a basin into which all the waters flow, without a natural outfall

through which they can escape. To attempt to make a direct outfall to

the sea was perfectly practicable, but there was no rise of tide, so

that though the outfall would be considerably improved, there would yet

remain the difficulty of keeping it open, in consequence of the constant

influx of the sand. In similar, and indeed in all cases of this class,

there are two points to be considered, namely, the water which comes

from the highlands, and that which falls directly upon the lowlands.

Now the former, coming from a higher level, and necessarily having

greater velocity, will naturally descend to the lowest level, which is

the marshes, and will force its way to the outfall before the lowland

water; so that until the highland water is discharged, the lowland water,

having less inclination, cannot escape, and as the outfall was extremely

deficient, neither the highland nor lowland water could be discharged,

and both combined accumulated upon the lowlands and flooded them. It

therefore was evident that so long as this state of things remained it