THE CORONATION.

The celebrated "improvisatrice" had been some time before this solemnly admitted a member of their Academy by the Arcadians of Rome. She entered Arcady as the "pastorella, Corilla Olympica;" and was thenceforth better known by that name than her real one. The Arcadians were exceedingly proud of their shepherdess; and to make the most of her, and at the same time get an occasion of parading all their pastoral absurdities, and obtaining each shepherd his share of glorification, it was suggested to have a coronation on the old Capitoline–hill, and try to make believe for a while, that the laurel bestowed in that time–hallowed spot, had still a value, and represented something in the eyes of Europe.

There were, however, difficulties in the way, of a nature which are not apparent in the official records of the ceremony. These are all to be found in a very handsomely got up volume, printed by Bodoni the celebrated typographer, at the royal Parma press, in the year 1779. The publication comprises also the numerous poetical compositions produced in honour of the occasion, together with "A list of the gentlemen poets"—"Indice de' Signori Poeti," who took part in the proceeding. There are no less than sixty–six possessors of the "Os magna sonaturum!" designed to unapprehensive posterity by such names and titles as "Antilio Pireatide, a member of the Inextricables of Parma, called Birdilio among the Academicians of Concord," and, among vulgar men, professor of rhetoric in the College at Parma;—"Aglauro of the Reggio Hypochondriacs" (this unfortunate person was a lady known outside Arcady as the Countess Paradisi);—"Fidauro Tessalide, a Dominican monk, called Lucio Lentulo among the Strong Academicians of Rome;"—"L' Intronato, member of the Transformed Ones of Milan;"—" Nivildo Amaranzio, a priest, called in the outer world, Giovacchino Pizzi, member of the Academy of Inscriptions at Paris, a Della Cruscan at Florence, and Custos–General of Arcadia!"—"Parmenio Dirceo of Parma, called Philander of Crete among the shepherds of Emonia;"—"Telejo Focidense, an Academician of Florence, Apathist, Vice–Custos of the Alphean Colony of Arcadians," and among un–Arcadian men professor of feudal law in the University of Pisa;—"Dr. Agnelli, secretary of the Intrepid Ones, and Pro–vice–Custos of the Ariostean Colony of Arcadians;"—and, finally, "Maria Forster, Poetess of the late Princess of Tuscany, Violante."

These and a crowd of other strangely nick–named gentlemen and ladies contribute to fill the superbly printed pages of a book, which, it may be safely asserted, no human eye has ever perused in its entirety since it was printed. The Custos–General of Arcadia himself would probably have been unequal to the task. But the more strictly official documents of the ceremony contained in the volume have, with toil and much suffering from nausea, been read by the present writer. And it is certain that no remotest hint of the difficulties that lay in the way of this desirable recognition of merit, as mentioned above, is to be discovered. The "Conservatori" of Rome, we are told, having "specially observed the transports of affection demonstrated by La Corilla for this favoured city, the seat of Religion and Virtue, and hearing the praises into which she continually broke forth in her extemporaneous songs, of the pacific and well–regulated government, of the greatness of mind, the invincible justice, and rare piety of the sovereign recently seated on the throne of St. Peter, on occasion of whose happy exaltation she had frequently improvised, and finally seeing her so much honoured, praised, visited, and distinguished by many noble and conspicuous personages,"—the Conservatori of Rome, duly rating all these meritorious circumstances, having first presented her with a diploma of Roman nobility, thought fit to make application to the papal government for permission to crown her on the Capitol. A most gracious and benign answer was returned, forwarded to the Custos–General of all Arcadia; and the whole matter is made to assume the aspect of a spontaneous homage—if not exactly to merit—at least to those unpremeditated lays in favour of papal government, and virtue. Pius the Sixth is touched by the enthusiastic and ingenuous tribute of the inspired singer, and at once falls in with the wishes of his subjects, Arcadian and other, to award the laurel to so deserving a shepherdess.

Where is there any difficulty in the matter? Is it to be found in the shrinking modesty of the poetess? Has any envious brother shepherd;—(for Arcadia itself was not free from such passions);—raised an opposing voice to the general wishes?

Not this. But that "amari aliquid," the bill. Benignant Pius and his pacific government,—break forth into whatever unpremeditated praises of him you may,—will not lend his Capitoline Hill for you to be crowned on under forty thousand dollars! A consideration well calculated to make an aspiring poet pause, and admirably adapted to keep the company of laurel–crowned heads select! Where was Arcadia to get forty thousand dollars? Forty thousand sonnets the shepherds and shepherdesses of its tuneful vales would have gladly advanced at a short notice. But dollars were another matter. And without the cash down, no crowning! The encouragement of literature, Rome honouring herself before the world, asserting ancient supremacy in letters and civilisation, was all very fine; and the papal government was delighted to encourage merit ... at forty thousand dollars a head; would doubtless even have had the liberality to crown a dozen for the four hundred thousand dollars; but upon one single crowning no reduction could be made.

But the Arcadian shepherds, and the gentle "pastorella" more specially interested had a friend;—one whose flocks were fed not in Arcady, but on wide–spreading Tuscan pastures;—a man of money, who was willing to invest the serious sum required in pageantry for the eternal glorification of Arcadia,—and himself. This public–spirited individual was the Senator Lorenzo Ginori, who paid the cash, and was, therefore—to leave Arcady and speak plain truth for awhile;—the real author and getter up of the entire affair. And the whole carefully maintained appearance of spontaneity, the high–flown talk of the papal admiration for the matchless poetess, and honourable encouragement of letters, the floods of mutual complimentation between all parties engaged in the grave farce, were all as utterly false and fictitious as the "literature" to be encouraged, the sentiments expressed, the designations of the mummers who uttered them, and everything else in this idyllic Arcady. And everybody knew perfectly well, that everybody else knew that the whole thing was a sham and a humbug. Yet they mouthed out their speeches and their odes and sonnets, and said all that could have been said if the thing had been genuine, with grave decorum, without laughing in each other's faces; and found the doing so an exceedingly agreeable pastime.

Not a hint of the real nature of the business is to be found in the records of it, above mentioned. What does Arcady know of dollars? Of "Phoebus the blond ruler of Parnassus," of Arcadian shepherds in conclave, and of the lofty meed of glorious song, we read much. But of the Senator Lorenzo Ginori and his forty thousand good dollars, not a word; which seems rather hard on so munificent a patron of Arcadia.

The narrative of the proceedings on the occasion, ridiculous enough even if they had been genuine, becomes infinitely more absurd when read by the light of the real facts of the case. It was pretended that the Academy of Arcadians were to adjudge and decree the crown. And they were to make believe to subject the aspirant to a tremendously severe ordeal; on which it was supposed their judgment was to be based. In solemn Arcadian conclave accordingly it was arranged that the poetess should be called on to extemporise on twelve "subjects of science and art." And twelve experienced shepherds are gravely appointed by the conclave to propose themes on the following subjects:—

When poor Corilla should have produced a sufficient extempore poem on each of these subjects, she was to be declared worthy of the laurel–crown! Sacred history was assigned to Bishop Giovardi, who was "Dean of Arcadia." And the Archbishop of Apamea undertook revealed religion. Physical science was entrusted to the Pope's physician; the other subjects confided to equally able shepherds.

Three days were appointed for the solemn trial; four poems per day being deemed as much as the poet or the audience could endure. And on each of these, four of the appointed twelve examiners were to hand in a theme in a paper carefully sealed, to show that it could not have been communicated previously to the candidate. And of course everybody pretended to consider this as proof perfectly conclusive on that point.

The first examination was to take place at the house of Prince Gonzago di Castiglione; and all "the cream" of the Roman world was there.

"The improvisatrice," says the record, "entered the saloon with some appearance of apprehension, seeing herself exposed to so arduous an ordeal, and to the judgment of the public. The signal was given to the violins to begin their harmonious sounds for the purpose of stirring up the poetess—per iscuotere la poetessa—and while everybody was expecting some well–considered exordium, she looked around as if lost and stupefied; and seeing at that moment one of her Arcadian friends enter, she burst into song imploring of him prompt and well–timed aid. Then as if repenting of the weakness, and disdaining all human assistance, she invoked the mighty name of God; which produced a tender commotion in the audience. Then blazing up into a wonderful estro of song, the poetess, continually changing her metre and rhythm, ran over all the varied scientific topics proposed to her with an inexhaustible vein of poesy."

The tournament began with pastoral poetry. And the examiner appointed for this subject handed in a sealed paper, which when opened in the presence of the expectant company, was found to contain this novel and difficult theme: "The advantages of a city life compared with those of the country."

This topic having been most triumphantly disposed of, the examiner in physical science stepped forward and requested—by intervention of a similarly sealed paper—that the "pastorella" would favour the company with a poem "on the properties of light, explaining at the same time how the images of objects are painted in the eye."

The shepherdess made no more difficulty about this than she had about the more manageable theme which had preceded it.

Then came the eloquence examiner, who "invited her to explain the nature and degree of the fatal blow which eloquence received at the violent death of Marcus Tullius Cicero." This, too, was successfully despatched. And the harmony delegate next proposed a poem on the properties of harmony, subjoining—with a malicious significance, one might think, if it were possible for Arcadian souls to be guilty of espiÈglerie—"an explanation why harmonious sounds, which delight us for a while, bore us when too long continued."

This was explained to the perfect satisfaction of the company. And then, the programme of that evening's business having been thus completed, "after a short pause for a magnificent collation, Corilla, without manifesting the slightest sign of exhaustion," and utterly insensible to the great truth she had been illustrating in her fourth poem, "demanded more themes!"

Whereupon an Abate among the company proposed, "Without religion there is no true virtue." And this thesis was handled in such style that "the audience were carried away with inexplicable (!) admiration and delight at hearing with what grace, learning, eloquence and fire the above theme was treated, in the poetical exposition of which the great improvisatrice demonstrated how truly prodigious enthusiasm is the animating spirit of poets."

On the second evening "all the magistracy of Arcadia" was present, besides "many other illustrious Arcadians, most ornate prelates, foreigners, distinguished by birth or learning" (the Duke of Gloucester was one of the former sort), "renowned monks, and twelve virtuous Roman ladies." On this occasion the four themes seem to have been given to the fair candidate all together.

That on revealed religion was, "Of what nature and how revealed was the first revealed religion?"

On sacred history: "The miraculous passage of the Red Sea."

On mythology: "Why does mythology represent Love to be blind, while at the same time it gives him a bow and arrows to shoot a certain mark?"

On legislation: "An European endeavouring to instruct a savage in the advantages of legislation."

On these subjects "the learned poetess fully satisfied with her sublime song the utmost expectation of the public. She sang in various choice Tuscan metres upon each of the enumerated topics, mixing them up occasionally one with another;" which, considering the nature of them, must have produced at all events some originality of treatment, it may be supposed.

On this occasion, also, the inexhaustible shepherdess, having made an end of this supply, demanded more. Whereupon one of the twelve virtuous ladies suggested, "The death of Pyramus and Thisbe;" and another, "the elegant problem, Whether constancy was most found in men or in women?"

"The new and spontaneous graces which Corilla manifested in singing on these themes were truly prodigious; and by her treatment of the first, several of the audience"—some of the renowned monks, perhaps—"were visibly moved to tears."

On the third and last evening the audience was so great, that not only the saloon prepared for the purpose, but the adjoining rooms were "filled with literature and the nobility." And the following were the subjects given.

On the fine arts: "Which among them is the most useful and delightful?" "And a charming thing it was to hear how the able improvisatrice extolled them all, but awarded the highest place to painting."

In epic poetry: "A specimen of the sublime style proper to epic poetry in the delineation of the character of some luminous hero?" The execution of this task was received with an outburst of applause when it appeared that the most "luminous hero" the judicious poetess could think of was His Holiness Pope Pius the Sixth!

In metaphysics she was required to set forth the physical and moral proofs of the immortality of the soul.

The remaining twelfth examination, in moral philosophy, seems by some error or accident to have been omitted. But the indefatigable pastorella, "in nowise tired or exhausted," demanded, as on the other occasions, fresh subjects. So the Countess Isabella Soderini proposed to her, "The lament of a pastorella abandoned by her pastor." And when this had been duly sung, it was proposed to her by a bishop to conclude her performances with "An invocation to the gods, entreating them to be propitious on the day of her coronation, and to come down all of them on the Tarpeian rock to render the solemnity more enviable and immortal." We are assured that "no language can express the grace with which the poetess gave a most unexpected turn to this argument," by declaring that she needed no other gods and goddesses at her coronation than those now around her. And the wonderful effect produced by this "is testified by those who had the good fortune to be present at this last most marvellous extempore poem."

When it was done, the three hundred persons forming the audience "partook of abundant refreshments. So that nothing was wanting to render these literary sessions, noble, brilliant, magnificent, and delicious."

A most satisfactory testimonial was of course drawn up in due form, and signed by the examiners. It is dated, "From the shepherd's hut (la capanna) of the magnanimous and erudite Arcadian shepherd, Emireno Alantino;" and was formally presented to the Academy and government as the motive and authorisation for the coronation ceremony. This was fixed for the 31st of August. And we have next a minutely detailed description of all the upholstery magnificences, and the preparations for seats of various dignity; one eminently glorious reserved for the Duke of Gloucester, "who deigned to come in from Marino" to be present at the ceremony; and the musicians, and the "Magistracy of Arcadia," and that of Rome, &c. &c.

The nature of the ceremony itself may be easily imagined. The laurel crown was placed on her head by the Conservatori of the city, as she kneeled before them, with these words. "Eximium hoc laudis poeticÆ decus, quod tuo capiti impono sub felicissimis auspiciis sanctissimi Domini nostri PapÆ Pii Sexti, Mulier egregia et nobilis nostra Civis, sit publici non minus erga te studii argumentum, quam obsequentissimi animi significatio erga amplissimam illam, et plane regiam benevolentiam, qua decoraris." To which she, still kneeling, responded, "Poetica laurus immeritÆ imposita fronti, excelsam sanctissimi Patris ac Principis PapÆ Pii Sexti munificentiam, effusamque Senatus Populique Romani erga me voluntatem testatur, quarum utraque aut honore dignos invenit, aut facit."

Then of course there was cannon firing and trumpet sounding ad libitum; and recitations not equally ad libitum. For all Arcadia, as the record says, would willingly have availed themselves of the opportunity of indulging in the delight of reciting their compositions to an audience who could not escape from them. It was therefore absolutely necessary to stem in some degree the threatening flood of song; and it was determined that, besides the performances of the pastorella herself, there should be permitted only one prose recitation, six sonnets, and one ode. The latter was taken as the lion's share by the "Custos of all Arcadia;" and the others distributed by lot among the Arcadians.

The prose man abused his opportunity shamefully, speaking sixteen octavo pages, in which he resumed all the topics treated by Corilla in her twelve examinations, and set forth how entirely she had satisfied her Arcadian judges, "all of them," as he said, "swans of an immortal wing"—"Cigni tutti d'eterne penne!" The sonnetteers were happily restrained by the immutable rules of their craft. But the great Custos indulged in some couple of hundred lines of "terza rima."

When all this had been got through, the pastorella herself was called on to "sing the praises of mighty Rome, and the honour of the laurel crown." And when she had done this, it was proposed to her to set forth "the falsity and injustice of the opinion of those, who maintain that the Christian religion is, by reason of its being founded in humility, not fitted to encourage talent or foster art." Finally, she was required to point out "the superiority of modern philosophy to the ancient."

"With this last extemporaneous poem, the poetess determined to put the seal to her glory, by running over with wonderful rapidity all the philosophical systems of ancient and modern times (!), and finally awarding the pre–eminence to the present age. In the whole course of this last song, the sensibility and gratitude of the poetess for the honour she had received carried her away; and in it the praises of Rome, for the protection it accords to talent and the fine arts, held the foremost place."

Then came universal congratulations from "the princes and princesses, cavaliers, and noble foreigners, especially the magnanimous Duke of Gloucester."

And so terminated the last adjudication of the laurel crown on the hill of the Capitol; a symbol which, once invested with true and high significance, had dwindled in perfect sympathy with all around it, till, like so many another superannuated embodiment of human thought, it had become a mere trading imposture, symbolising nothing but the utter hollowness and intense falsity of the social system, of which it was an unhealthy excrescence.

But it must not be imagined, that even in Rome in 1776, the decorous farce with which princes, and eminences, and Arcadian bishops, and "renowned monks," amused themselves, was universally accepted at more than its real worth in less polite circles outside the official and Arcadian world. Old Pasquin asserted his immemorial privileges on the occasion. An immense number of satires and libels were current in Rome, in which our poor Corilla was treated in a way that she at least seems in no degree to have deserved, for all that we hear of her private life, represents her to have been a good and estimable woman. Among other lampoons, the following is to be found recorded by Signor Vannucci in an article on Corilla in the "Raccolta Biographica" of Tipaldo. It marks the popular estimate of the value of Senator Ginori's forty–thousand scudi bargain:—

"Ordina e vuole Monsignor Missei
Che se passa Corilla coll'alloro,
Non le si tirin bucce o pomidoro,
Sotto la pena di baiocchi sei."

Monsignor Missei was governor of Rome. And the ordinance attributed to him by Pasquin, may be read somewhat thus:—

"By Monsignor Missei's decree, whoever
Shall pelt Corilla in her laurel crown
With love–apples or parings whatsoever,
Must pay the penalty of threepence down."

The innocent pastorella, however, soon withdrew herself from the Arcadian honours and popular gibes of the Eternal City; and carried her crown and her reputation home to her native Tuscany. The former she devoutly dedicated to the Virgin, over one of whose altars, in the city of Pistoja, it may yet be seen. The latter, as has been said, had not been barren; but had procured for her the means of making a comfortable home for herself and her husband in the Via della Forca in fair Florence. She had one child, who died in its infancy. As for her husband, it may be remarked, that on the great day of the coronation, among all the detail of seats set apart for this and the other functionary and notability, we do not meet with any mention of the smallest stool appropriated to the Arcadian king–consort. He rises to the surface no more, except to have his death chronicled in 1790. His wife survived him only two years. But she had lived long enough to see Arcadia desolate, and the literary fashions and traditions of her palmy day, scattered before the morning wind of another epoch.