On Monday we divided ; L. and E. drove to
Pozzuoli to test the miracle there, while Antonio and I went to the Cathedral again. The Cavaliere was saying mass at one of the side altars when I looked in from the sacristy—the same over which every one had scrambled on Sunday—and had only just time to take off his cope and put on his black garments before the Deputy arrived. I was under the impression that two of the keys which lock up the closet where the bust and reliquary are kept, were in the hands of the municipality ; but this is not strictly the case. They are kept in a cupboard in the sacristy, of which the Deputy has the key—a very different thing, and showing at any rate how little fear the town authorities can have of anything like tampering on the part of the ecclesiastical people. The closet itself is in the east wall of the chapel itself, with a space of about four feet between it and the back of the high-altar. It has double doors, and is just like a large banker's safe, only that the doors are silver. On the left-hand one, where the bust is kept, the profile of San Gennaro is engraved ; and on the other the two bottles, standing side by side on a book. They are exactly alike, but not like either of the actual bottles. Each door has the same inscription—" Carolus II. Hispaniarum Dei gratia rex 1667 "— and the same ornaments.
They were more punctual to-day than yesterday. The proces- sion came in at nine to a moment ; and at two minutes past the Cavaliere had brought out the reliquary, and announced in his quiet voice that the blood had become hard again—" e duro." The liquefaction took longer than before—thirteen minutes—and it was necessary for the two priests to turn round twice to the altar. I found out that the words they repeated, which I could not make out yesterday, were the Nicene Creed ; and those on the second occasion the Athanasian Creed. There were no rose-leaves and no sparrows this time ; but everything else just as before. I got a little more insight into the reliquary. Originally it was a mere thick flat silver hoop, about 3-16ths of an inch thick, with a tube at the bottom for a shank. Then, perhaps in Cardinal Carafe's time, about 1500, another hoop of very pale brassy-looking gold and of a triangular section was added round the former, embracing the shank with a collar, void ending at the top in a massive silver crown, with a cherub on each side and a crucifix above all. It must weigh at least a couple of pounds, if not more. Part of the crown is broken away—perhaps a trace of the fall which it had in 1337, when, owing to the carelessness of a sacristan, it was allowed to roll down a flight of steps.
Antonio was very anxious for me to go into the sacristy after the liquefaction to see the jewels, and I am glad I did so. St. Januarius must surely be one of the richest personages in the world. His chapel is crowded with full-sized silver busts—forty in all—of himself and other saints, which even if not solid must be of immense value ; and I have already mentioned the riches on the altar. But the jewels in the sacristy surpassed all. There was a large case, dated September 19, 1865, containing a collar, crosses, brooches and ornaments of all kinds, presented to the bust by the late King of Naples, the Emperor of Austria, the Pope, and other monarchs, quite extraordinary both for beauty and value— enormous emeralds and rubies, diamonds in thousands of all sizes. One moderate-sized but most charming emerald cross, the gift of Napoleon the Second, I confess, sinner that I am, roused my keenest cupidity, and I could not help the thought that it would look much better clasped round some fair living throat than on the yellow
metal neck of the old bust in the chapel. There was also a mitre far more richly bedizened than that worn this morning by the bust, and literally gorgeous with stones. There may not be so many jewels or trinkets as in the large treasury at Loreto, but they are certainly of far greater value, and more imposing-looking. I must not forget some chalices, which however much one may dis- like their taste, one cannot deny their value. The crowd of ladies was so great, and they were so amused and absorbed by the explanations and jokes of the priests who showed the treasures, that I could not get so near as I wished ; but I saw quite enough —too much for the peace of mind of a man in love with jewels.
When I returned to the hotel I found L. and E. back from Pozzuoli. I ought to say that on our way from Ischia on Satur- day we stopped thereto see the stone of which I had heard so much in England, and a bust much spoken of in the books. They are both in the Capuchin church, said to stand over the spot of St. Januarius' martyrdom. It was all prepared for the next day's festival, and looked very pretty. There was a special altar put up for the saint, and covered with great nosegays of large pink lilies, which looked and smelt deliciously. So was the high altar. The effect was most natural and charming, and delighted us all. The bust was placed above the altar. It is a white marble one, with brownish eyes, the face solid and benevolent-looking, not unlike the present Pope. The nose has been wholly replaced, veil' clumsily, and without nostrils ; notwithstanding a wonderful story told by one of the monks of the broken-off nose refusing to remain. in the hands of the thief, and flying back of its own accord to its old place on the bust. It had been examined, he said, by several " personi chimichi," who testified that there was no cement to make it stick on. There is a stain on the right jaw, "like a plague-spot," which it acquired when it healed several persons. afflicted with plague ; and the expression of the features is said, frequently to change. We should have been sorry if it had altered during our visit ; for heretics though we were, it regarded us with, unmistakable approbation. The stone is in a chapel on the right. It purports to be that over which St. Januarius was beheaded, and the common belief is that at the exact moment of the hone- faction at Naples, some red marks which it contains become more apparent, and emit drops of blood. It is built into the side-wall of the chapel, and covered with a triple grille of gilt-work. It is about six inches back from the line of the wall, and though rather in the dark is pretty visible when a candle is poked in through the grating. L. and E. were bursting with their experiences. They got there before nine, there was hardly a soul in the church, the monks were civility itself, and they had kept their eyes on the stone till nearly a quarter to ten, but without the least effect. No change whatever took place. The monk who, attended them, however, was of a different opinion, and tried to. convince them that the marks were more prominent than before :- but they could not see it. Certainly the clear grey orbs of the- honest and tolerant L. are not the eyes to create or harbour any illusion, and I fear there is no alternative but to accept his- testimony.
In the afternoon I called on Signor Fiorelli, the Director of the Museum, who was very kind to me in '68, to see if he could tell me anything of the date of the reliquary or the bottles ; but he had never seen either them or the miracle—" Je n'ai jamais ete lh bas,"—which struck me as a significant and unpleasant token of the hostile relation between science and religion in Naples. I thought he looked very much fagged ; and it does seem absurd that so thoroughly able and sagacious an administratcrr should be condemned to the actual drudgery of preparing a. catalogue, when there are so many fields of investigation at. Pompeii and elsewhere to plan and direct.
Monday was our last day together ; the L.'s went off to Sicily and E. returned to his quarters at Ischia. But before following him I preferred to remain another day with San Gennaro, and see if there were anything I had omitted to notice. On Tuesday I was in the chapel by a quarter to nine, and this time I occupied myself less intently with the "miracle," and more with the people and the general scene. The liquefaction was more rapid than yesterday. The reliquary was brought out at 9.7, and by 9.16, the change had begun, after the repetition of the Nicene Creed only. Both yesterday and to-day the turning-round of the reliquary was as frequent as before, and to my mind as much an element of the "miracle ;" and to my observation the ashy-grey colour of the empty part of the bottle remained unaltered to the end. The clamour of the women did not at all abate, nor were their voices- less harsh than before. A gentleman present was kind enough to. write down for me some of their exclamations. Besides the Gloria. Patri which I quoted before, there were the following, af ter the lique- faction had begun :—" Bello, quauto eel hello! per in grazia che c'hai fatto Ii ringraziamento." " Figluolo della santissima Trinita ; Padre, Figluolo, e Spirito Santo." "Per la grazia santissima che ci e fatta, faremo la feats per tufts la citta." When the Saint unduly delays the miracle they are said to call him "old yellow-face" (in allusion to the golden colour of the bust) and other pleasant names, but on none of these days were they driven to such extremities. The most of these people had a strongly professional air and gave one much the impression of claqueurs ; action, of course, they had plenty, of the most impassioned sort—no Neapolitan can say ten words without it ; but it was a totally different thing from the real emotion of two or three women, who, though among them, did not seem to be of them. Two in particular I watched carefully, and am not ashamed to say that the sight of their grief brought the tears into my own eyes. Such fixed and longing looks, such pas- sionate distress and desire, such agony of weeping, I never before saw—not the less affecting because the object appeared to me so unworthy of it.
The old Cavaliere was the central figure all through the three days, and by the end of the time I could not help feeling quite an affection for him. He might perhaps have been more moved, but dignity and efficiency are always affecting ; and I had watched him till I was familiar with every line of his face, every turn of his head, every characteristic motion of his hands. Besides, he was a thorough gentleman, which is more than one can say of all the ecclesiastics of Naples ; and the likeness to Dr. Newman, which I noticed at first, and which was confirmed every day, was not calcu- lated to repel me from him. To-day I saw him transfer the reliquary to the priest, whose place it was to carry it throughout the chapel ; and there was a deliberate simplicity about his action which, though certainly not fervent, awl hardly religious in our sense of the word, and unlike enough to the worker of a miracle, was to me sufficiently touching. The Cavaliere and his assistant were both tall, well-made men, while the new pair were short and insignificant. After every one within the rails had been served, the four went a little on one side, and then the new corners knelt down, the Cavaliere with the greatest deliberation wiped the glass and held the reliquary before them, turning it round three or four times, that they might take their fill of the sight of the " blood ; " then he pressed it to their lips and foreheads, and, in the case of his successor, to his breast also. And now came his own turn, and it occurred to me for the first time, as I watched them, that occupied as he had been throughout in working and administering the miracle, the Cavaliere could not yet have seen it himself. So he and his assistant handed over the reliquary and the candle to their representatives, and then, kneeling before them, had the same or even a still more deliberate view afforded them, and the same repeated contact with the sacred object.
At four in the afternoon I went into the Cathedral itself. The huge brass doors of the Chapel were closed, until the Deputy and Cavaliere should return at sunset and put by the bust and the reliquary in the closet for the night. Meantime the bust was on one end of the high altar at the far end of the long Cathedral, and the monstrance on the other, each lighted up with candles ; but the reliquary was being seen and kissed by a crowd of people pressing three or four deep to a rail at the west end of the choir. I confess this was the most touching thing I saw—not for any great fervour of devotion in the people, so much as for the consi- deration how deep and wide-spread was the belief in this most unreasonable service. Round the apse was ranged a conclave of twenty-four great saints in the persons of their full-sized silver busts—amongst them even Evangelists and Apostles—each one lighted up, and each looking down at his chief on the altar below. "You see, Sir "—this was the excellent Antonio's usual way of beginning—" you see, Sir, Saint Gennaro is the captain of them all, and all the Saints of all the churches in Naples sends their busts here to stay in his church. They don't actually belong here ; but it's all the same." The " blood " had become very fluid and followed every motion of the reliquary, but the colour remained as before. The action of the priest who showed it was the same as that of the Cavaliere—turning it over and over each time.
By the way, what a splendid decoration lighted candles make to a church ! I mean the long thin ones that one sees abroad. I saw it first at Vienna, in the Church of the Franciscans ; then at Rome in the convent chapel of the French nuns ; again at Loreto last week ; and now at Naples. There may be from 80 to 150 lights —all the back of the altar formed of them; and the long thin, soft- white vertical lines of the candles, and their golden flames, have a grace and splendour of colour about them unspeakably beautiful in themselves, and suggestive of all that one connects with light and glory. And, like gold, they harmonize with everything, and are
effective in sunlight no less than in twilight or darkness. What possible objection can there be to such a mode of decorating churches ? However, this is an unnecessary digression.
On Sunday, the 26th, I was in Naples again, and could not resist going to San Gennaro once more, to take my farewell. It was the last day of the festa ; the chapel was as full as ever, the old Cavaliere still there, but with a different assistant and a different Deputy. The reliquary was brought out at 9.16, the blood solid as before ; but in three minutes it began to liquefy. There was no change in the contents of the bottle—quantity, colour, general character, all remained exactly as before. And I found no reason on this fourth occasion to modify my observations or impressions of the former three.
I must close this already too-long narrative. If I have been minute in my account it is because I desire to record every trait of so curious a scene—a scene which the march of events and opinions will inevitably extinguish before many years are over, as it has recently extinguished the Doeeh at Cairo, and the dancing before the high-altar at Seville, and which will yet always be interesting and characteristic. And if I have given no sum- ming-up—passed no judgment on the "miracle of St. Januarius " —it is because I prefer rather to state my impressions as they came to me, and leave my readers to draw their own con- elusions.
Previous page
