It was June 6, 1858, and less than a week after arriving in Florence, Sophia Hawthorne was recording her first impressions, in her travel journal, of bella Firenze. A promenade at sunset along the Via Fornace, past the Duomo, Campanile, and Palazzo Vecchio, led to a vision of the fabled Arno river at twilight. "The Lung-Arno was lighted with gas along its whole extent, making a cornice of glittering gems, converging in the distance," Hawthorne wrote, "and the reflection of the illuminated border below made a fairy show. No painting, and scarcely a dream could equal the magical beauty of the scene. Florence is as enchanting as I expected. It is a place to live and be happy in--so cheerful, so full of art, and so well paved" (342). The idyll continued the next day, as the family reveled in their expansive quarters, the Casa del Bello, (2) secured for them by American expatriate sculptor and long-time resident of Florence, Hiram Powers. (3) "It is delicious weather to-day," Sophia records, and the air is full of the songs of birds. The merlins are in choir over against our terrace, in a wood of the Torrigian Gardens. The marble busts, on their pedestals, seem to enjoy the bosky shade. The green lizards run across the parapet, and to exist is a joy. J. [ulian] is drawing Pericles, in his little study, .... U.[na] is reading Tennyson, looking moony in white muslin. R.[ose] is playing with Stella [the servant] ... and Mr. H. is luxuriating down in the garden, buried up in roses and jessamine. "If the air stirs, it can only be by two contending butterflies," as Jean Paul says. (4) (NEI 343) Basking in beauty and a harmonious environment that nature and man have conspired to create--merlins and marble busts, bosky shade and Pericles--Hawthorne writes a Florentine paradise characterized not just by beauty but also by the ideal pursuits it actuates and the ideal family that pursues them. Tennyson and Greek sculpture occupy young minds; Americas great romancer muses in his garden; (5) and Sophia, co-creator of the family and the scene, writes it all. Certainly, this was la dolce vita. Yet this was only one side of the Florence Sophia came to know as the family sojourned there from June 1 to October 1, 1858. Other sides of the multi-faceted city emerged in her journal as the stay proceeded. Thus, by the end of her trip, in a mood reminiscent of those that frequently overtook her husband, Sophia would declare: "an inward persuasion that the fairness we see is not genuine prosperity and joy, comes at every turn in this enchanting country.... How mysterious are these old civilizations, which culminate and vanish, leaving ruin, desolation, and emptiness, shells of dead beauty, all over the earth! ... Italy, however, is not dead--only faint... (492-93). Florence, like Italy itself, held "endless worlds of meaning" for Hawthorne: my aim here is to delineate some of those meanings. First a word about the Hawthornes' Italian travels and Sophia's record of Florence. The family's continental rambles followed upon their five-year stay in England (July 1853-January 1858) during Nathaniel's tenure as Consul General to Liverpool, an appointment secured for him by his long-time friend, President Franklin Pierce. From London, in January, they traveled to Paris, and thence to Rome--the ultimate destination on any Grand Tour of Europe. The peripatetic family broke their one-year Roman stay with four months in Florence from June to October 1858, undertaken, likely, to escape the close heat of the Roman summer and the malaria that threatened there. The attempt, though, was vain: only two short weeks after returning to Rome, in early November, Hawthorne recorded in his journal that his eldest daughter Una had come down with Roman fever. She struggled with increasingly serious relapses for months until, at the end of May, 1859, she was finally well enough to travel. The weary family set out for England once more, where they remained for yet another year while Nathaniel readied his last novel, The Marble Faun, set in Rome and Florence, for the British press. …
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