Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1896-01-29
ADAY DREAMINROMB
VISIONS THAT COME TO THE VISITOR,
IN THE SACRED CITY.

IN THE SACRED CITY.
The Fascination Of the Place and the Menu
ories It Awalrens In the 1mpresaionabls
NIind-Ghosts Of the Men Who Were
Stars In the Forum.
Marion Crawford in an article for The
Century, entitled IA Kaleidoscope Of
Rome," says:
There is plan Of the place in every
guidebook, with description written to
be read while running. And yet, without
much definite knowledge-with "little
Latin and less Greek" perhaps-many
men and women, the guidebook in their
hands forgotten for one moment, have
leaned upon block of marble with halt
closed, musing eyes, and breath drawn
SO slow that it is almost quiet, held in
day dream wonder, and they have seen
rise vision Of past things and beings,
even in the broad afternoon sunshine,
out of stones that remember Caesar g
footsteps and from walls that have
echoed with Antony's speech. There
they troop up the sacred way, the shock
headed, wool draped, beak nosed Ro-
mans; there they stand together in
groups at the corner of Saturn g temple; !;
there the half naked plebeian children
Chamber upon the pedestals Of the col
umns to watch the crowd and double the
mems deep tones with treble Of child
ish clatter; there the noble boy, with
his bordered toga, his keen young face
and longing backward look, is hurried
home out of the throng by the tall house,
hold slave who carries his school tablets
and is responsible for his safety.
A consul goes by, 10 lictors marching
with him-black browed, square jaw
ed, relentless men, with their rods and
axes. Then two closed litters are carried
past by big, black, oily fellows, beside
whom walk freedmen and Greek slaves
and three or four becurled and bescented
parasites, the shadows of the great men
in the itters. Under their very feet the
little street boys play their game Of
pitching at tiny pyramids of dried lu-
pins-because they have no filberts. and
lupins are almost as good, and as the
dandified hanger on of M8cenas, strain
ing his ear for the sound of his Patrons
voice from within the litter, heedlessly
crushes the little yellow beans under his
sandal, the particular small boy whose
stake is smashed clenches his fist, and
with flashing eyes curses the dandy's
dead to the fourth generation of ascend
ants, and he and his companions turn
and scatter like mice as one of the big
gest slaves threateningly raises his hand.
Absurd details rise in the dream. An
old crone is selling roasted chestnuts in
the shadow of the temple Of Castor and
Pollux; tipsy soldier is reeling to his
quarters with his helmet stuck on wrong
side foremost; knot of Jewish money
changers, with long curls and high caps.
are talking eagerly in Hebrew, and
clutching the little bags they hide in the
sleeves of their yellow eastern gowns; a
bright eyed, skinny woman Of the peo-
pie boxes her daughters ears for having
smiled at one of the rich men 8 parasites,
and the girl, already crying, still looks
after the fashionable good for nothing
under her mother g upraised arm.
All about stretches the vast humming
city of low built houses covering the
short, steep hills and filling all the hol-
lows between; the seething Suburb lies
northeastward the yellow river is be-
yond the few buildings to the west.
Southwark rise the enchanted villas Of
the Caesars; due east is the Esquiline of
evil fame redeemed and planted with
trees and beautified by M@cenas, but
haunted even today, say modern Ro-
mans, by the grim ghosts of murderers
and thieves who there died bloody
deaths Of quivering torture. All around,
as the sun sinks and the cool shadows
quench the hot light on the white pave
ments, the ever increasing crowds Of men
always more men than women-mOve
inward, half unconsciously and out of
inborn habit, to the Forum, the center
Of the empire, the middle Of the world,
the boiling point Of the whole earth's
riches and strength and life.
Then, as the traveller muses. out his
short breathing space, the vision grows
confused, and Rome's huge ghosts 60
stalking, riding, changing, ,raving through
the surging dream throng- Bru-
tus, Pompey, Catiline, Cicero, Caligula.
Vitelius, Hadrian-and>close upon them
Gauls and Cloths and Huns. and all bar
barians, till the dream is kaleidoscope
Of school learned names that have sud-
denly taken shadows Of great faces out
Of Rome's shadow storehouse, and
gorgeous arms and streaming draperies,
and all at once the sightseer shivers as
the sun goes down, and passes his hand
over his eyes, and shakes himself, and
goes away rather hastily. lest he should
take the fever and turn ghost himself.
KingsIeys Opinion OF Music.
No one has touched the secret OF mu-
- ..,o,~ o1oro1v than Charles KinOslev