The Sun.
London, England, 1861-11-02 00:00:00

FUNERAL OF MRS. BROWNING.

A correspondent of the Critic, writing from Florence,
says :—" It was announced that the funeral rites might be
attended by all friends and admirers, and many Italians and
English, Protestants and Catholics, of both sexes, proved
eager to accept the mournful invitation by assembling be-
fore the funeral arrived, yesterday evening, in the ceme-
tery, outside the Porta Pinti. A more beautiful place of
sepulture could not be imagined; like that for the Protes-
tants in Rome, this is also bounded on one side by the an-
cient city walls, while beyond expands a landscape of
smiling loveliness, the luxurious Arno Valley, bestrewn
with villages and pleasant country houses, with its amphi-
theatre of gracefully outlined mountains among whose
forms the height and towers of Frisole rise nobly conspi-
cuous. The burial-ground belong to the Swiss, and occu-
pies a rising ground laid out like a wooded garden, with a
cluster of cypresses at the highest level, its terminating
point ; and in the centre, at the convergences of the alleys,
a pillar surmounted by a white marble cross, raised, as the
epigraph tells us, by the King of Prussia in 1853, am the
Resurrection and the Life,' &c., being the text inscribed
(in French) above this recording line. Among shrubs and
flowering plants stand numerous monuments, simple, and
mostly in good taste, surmounted by the cross or an urn,
and with epitaphs in which the English. predominates,
though many languages appear, almost all associating some
text from Scripture with the name of the dead. Shortly
before sunset arrived the convoy with the last remains
of her whose resting-place will assuredly consecrate this
spot into one for the pilgrimage and reverence of future
ages; a largo garland of white flowers and a laurel wreath
lay on the plain, unpretending hearse now driven up to the
entrance on the high road; here the coffin was removed to
be placed within the gateway-lodge, where the English
clergyman commenced the service from the Anglican
Liturgy, and at this moment a numerous group stood, many
deeply affected, not a few with tears, around the bier of
that gloriously-gifted woman. Among those I noticed
Francisco dall' Oregaro, one of Italy's first living poets ;
Mr. Storey, the well-known American sculptor and writer;
Mr. Anthony Trollope ; and, supported by the last two, the
widowed husband, whose presence at such a time surprised
me, for he was evidently prostrated by grief to the last de-
gree. Scarce able, it seemed, to stand, and bewildered as
one lost in an overwhelming dream, poor Mr. Browning
looked indeed as if a blight had passed over his existence
from which there could be no earthly healing. Followed
by these mourners, the coffin was then carried up the cen-
tral avenue to the freshly-dug grave, prepared for only one
tenant near that cross and its pillar; and during the re-
mainder of the rite, here performed over the open burial-
place, I could observe the sorrowful self-possession of that
group of chief mourners, the widower just able to control
himself from an outburst of feeling, and his and her child,
a fine boy of sweetly-intelligent countenance, showing
amidst his emotion a self-command beyond his years. He
reminded me of his mother, in feature and ex-
pression, as he stood bareheaded, with long wavy hair, that
child of illustrious parentage ; and there stood an accom-
plished lady, Miss Blagdon, the bosom friend of the de-
ceased, whose sorrow seemed scarce less than that of
fhteerr
nearest and dearest. I looked into the still open grave of
the sublime service had closed, and the chiefcoffin of mourners
great
poetess, the white-rose wreath a
slowly passed away, and there sat
at the head, the newly-scattered u
wdthtest h
feet,
tthhee lsaauhrleel crown
while the
the
inscription par-
at hgee nwaame eh andidde dna, theet
being
gd eaal
ot hn
a;
tially concealed by that crown appropriately laid with the
remains, just about to be for ever covered by earth—wreath,
and garland, and dead. Close to her grave grows (I was
struck by this coincidence) a young laurel tree, besidEs
other flowering plants, the cross gleams from a background
of cypress foliage above, and around her lie the dead of
almost all lands where her language is spoken, this, too,
amidst a scene that might be taken as the abstract of Italy
in its fairest aspects, and close to the city where assuredly
is the worthiest centre of its civilisation. ' 0 narato Peals-
sisio poeta' —the lino from Dante on his monument at
Santa Croce—suggested itself to her as the appropriate
epitaph, whatever memorial is henceforth to mark this
spot ; and with this quotation I turned away—consoled by
the thought how bright and worthy of herself was her
career throughout—to leave the Italian grave of Elisabeth
Browning."

THE LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE OF ADMIRAL
SIR CHARLES NAPIER, K.C.B. By Major-General Elers
Napier. 2 vols.—This work is full of interest, not only to
the sailor community, but to the general reader, which is
not surprising, since the subject of the work began his
naval career with the century, and continued it until al-
most yesterday. The biographer, who really loved the
gallant sailor, follows his fortunes up and down the world
with a devotion which gives a zest to hie narrative, i!n_
leads to that abounding wealth of personal anecdote which
13 the charm of biography,—Globe.