by Susan Jaques
Canova replied that Pius had spent little due to a lack of funds, but he had managed to form a new museum. Interrupting, Napoleon asked if the Borghese family had spent much on excavations, to which the sculptor replied that they had not, as they generally undertook them with others, whose shares they later bought.
The subject of Rome’s excavations was of special importance to the sculptor. Canova told Napoleon that the Romans possessed “a sacred right” over its buried antiquities: “. . . neither the noble families of Rome, nor even the Pope himself, had a right to remove these precious remains from Rome, to which city they belonged, as the inheritance of their ancestors, and the reward of their victories.”
Napoleon continued to press on the pope’s patronage. “The Borghese marbles cost me fourteen millions. How much does the Pope annually expend on the fine arts? A hundred thousand crowns?”
“Not so much; for he is extremely poor.”
“Great things, then, may be done with much less?”
“Certainly.”
The conversation turned to Canova’s colossal statue of the emperor awaiting shipment to Paris. When Napoleon expressed disappointment that he was not depicted in contemporary dress, Canova defended his choice of the heroic nude. “Omnipotence itself would have failed, had it attempted to represent your Majesty as I now see you, with small clothes, boots . . . in short, in the French costume. In statuary, as in all the other arts, we have our sublime style; the sculptor’s sublimity is nakedness, and a kind of drapery peculiar to our art.”
Canova was also scheduled to start an equestrian statue of Napoleon for the Place Vendôme. “. . . for Napoleon the way of representing the protagonists of history’s events was crucial, his references were the equestrian monuments, Donatello’s Gattamelata, Verrocchio’s Colleoni, but above all the Marcus Aurelius of the Campidoglio,” writes Mario Guderzo.14 Now Canova drew a distinction between the colossal nude Napoleon as Mars the Peacemaker and the future equestrian statue.
“I could not represent your figure undraped, since my intention is to represent you in the act of commanding an army. This was customary with the ancient sculptors . . .”
“Have you seen the bronze statue of General Dessaix?” Napoleon asked. “It appears to be very ill executed; his sash is ridiculous.” Canova knew that the nude statue of France’s fallen general had just been unveiled to widespread derision. Before he could respond, Napoleon asked “Is my statue a full length?”
“It is, Sire, and is already cast very successfully, an engraving has also been executed from it.”
“I wish to visit Rome.”
“That country well deserves to be seen by your Majesty, who will find in it many objects capable of warming your imagination such as the Capitol, the Forum of Trajan, the Sacred Way, the columns, triumphal arches . . .” Canova proceeded to describe some of the finest monuments, including the Appian Way, from Rome to Brindisi, bordered with tombs on both sides.
“What is there astonishing in this, the Romans were masters of the world?” Napoleon asked.
Canova seized the opportunity to laud his compatriots. “It was not only the power, but Italian genius and our love of the sublime, which produced so many magnificent works,” the sculptor replied. “Let your Majesty be pleased to reflect upon what the Florentines alone have done, who possessed but a very straitened territory, what also the Venetians. The Florentines had the courage to raise their wonderful cathedral by an additional tax of one penny in the pound upon the manufacture of woolen stuffs; and this alone was found sufficient for the erection of an edifice, the expenses of which would be too much for the treasury of any modern power. They also cased the gates of St. John to be executed in bronze, by Ghiberti, at the expense of forty thousand sequins, equivalent in the present day to several millions of francs. Let your Majesty also consider their industry and at the same time their public spirit.”
Napoleon ended the meeting, giving Canova his marching orders to start the statue of Marie Louise.15
Two days later, Canova returned to Fontainebleau to begin the commission. Marie Louise had just sat down to breakfast with her husband when the sculptor arrived. Though the empress knew she was in excellent hands, she felt self-conscious about sitting for the celebrated artist. She had recently learned that she was pregnant and her elated husband was acting clingier than usual.
When she was a girl, Canova had sculpted her father’s portrait bust for the Marciana Library in Venice. The imperial government wanted him portrayed in contemporary court dress; Canova insisted on an ancient cuirass and military cloak, or chlamys.16 In 1805, Canova visited Vienna to oversee the installation of his large funerary monument for her great aunt Maria Christina in the family’s Augustinian Church. Canova and her great uncle Albert had gone head to head on a number of issues relating to the monument.17
Like her husband, her father had courted Canova, trying to convince him to move to Vienna. When that failed, Francis offered to build him a large studio in Venice if he would live there half the year.18 Before Canova left for Vienna in 1805, the pope awarded Canova a 400–silver scudo annuity and promised him a new studio and house near Piazza del Popolo, to be designed by Raffaele Stern. Canova politely declined the pope’s offer, donating his annuity to the Academy of St. Luke.19
Now, her husband broke the ice. “Is the air of Rome as bad and unhealthy in the time of the ancients as in our days?” he asked Canova.
“It appears to have been so, according to the historians,” Canova replied. “The ancients, it is clear, took precautions against the unwholesome air by means of woods and forests, which they called sacred; besides, the immense population which covered the country diminished the fatal effects of this scourge. I remember to have read in Tacitus that upon the return of the troops of Vitellius from Germany, they fell ill, from having slept on the Vatican Mount.”
On hearing this, Napoleon immediately rang for his librarian to bring him a copy of the Annals by Tacitus. When they could not find the passage, Napoleon resumed the conversation, describing how soldiers arriving in Rome from distant countries always fell ill the first year, but then recovered.
Sensing Napoleon’s interest in Rome, Canova brought up the city’s desperate situation without the pope. “. . . Rome is in want of everything and your Majesty’s protection is all that is now left it.”
“We will make it the capital of Italy, Napoleon said smiling, “and we will also join Naples with it. Well, what do you say? Will that please you?”
Canova paused. “The arts would also be productive of great prosperity to Rome, but the arts at present languish; and, with the exception of your Majesty and the imperial family, who have given some commissions, artists are now without employment . . .” Then citing examples from the Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans, Canova argued that religion alone had caused the arts to flourish; the Romans had impressed the seal of religion upon all their works. He concluded that every religion has been favorable to the arts, and the Roman Catholic much more than any other; “a chapel and a simple cross suffice for the Protestant and consequently afford no encouragement to the arts.”
Turning to Marie Louise, Napoleon said, “He is right, religion always promotes the arts, and the Protestants can produce nothing great.”20
At the next sitting, Canova was surprised to find Napoleon again by his young wife’s side. In fact, the emperor would never leave the sculptor alone with Marie Louise. Canova was struck by the contrast between the doting husband and the first consul of eight years before who was too impatient to sit for his own portrait. With Napoleon completely unoccupied, Canova decided to raise the touchy subject of Pius.
“Why does not your Majesty become reconciled, in some degree, with the Pope?”
“Because priests wish to command everywhere, because they wish to meddle with everything, and be masters of everything, like Gregory VII,” replied Napoleon.
“It seems to me that, at present, there is no reason to apprehend this, since your Majest
y’s power is everywhere supreme.”
“The Popes have always hindered the resuscitation of the Italian nation, even when they were not the absolute masters of Rome; and this they effected by means of the factions of the Colonnas and the Orsini.”
“Truly, if the Popes had had your Majesty’s courage, they might have found many favourable opportunities of making themselves masters of all Italy.”
“As to that,” said Napoleon, placing his hand on his sword, “this is the one thing needful.”
“That is true, we have seen, that if Alexander VI had lived, Duke Valentino would have commenced the conquests of Italy. The attempts of this kind made by Julian II and Leo X were, likewise, not unsuccessful; but in general the Popes were elected at too advanced an age, and if one of them was enterprising, the succeeding one, perhaps, was mild and pacific.”
“It is the sword that is wanted,” Napoleon repeated.
“Not the sword only, but also the pastoral staff. Machiavelli himself dared not to decide which of the two had more contributed to the aggrandisement of Rome, the arms of Romulus or the religion of Numa. So true it is, that these two means should be employed simultaneously. If the pontiffs did not always signalize themselves by military exploits, they, however, performed such brilliant actions, as always to excite the admiration of the world.”
After disparaging the popes, Napoleon expressed admiration for the ancient Romans. “What a great people were the Romans!” he declared.
“So they were, undoubtedly, till the second Punic War.”
“Caesar, Caesar, was the great man, not Caesar only, but some of the succeeding Emperors, such as Titus, Trajan, Marcus Aurelius . . . the Romans were always great till the time of Constantine. The Popes were wrong in fomenting discord in Italy; and in always being the first to call in the French and Germans. They were not capable of being soldiers themselves, and they have lost much.”
“Since it is so, your Majesty will not permit our evils to increase; but I can assure your Majesty, that unless you come to Rome’s assistance, this city will become what it was when the Popes transferred the Papal seat to Avignon. Before that time, it had immense supplies of water and many fountains; but the aqueducts fell into ruins, and the water of the Tiber was sold in the streets: the city was a desert.”
Napoleon seemed affected by this. “Obstacles are thrown in my way: and this, too, when I am master of France, Italy, and three-fourths of Germany; I am the successor of Charlemagne. If the present Pope were like his predecessor of that day, all might be arranged. And have not your Venetians also quarrelled with him?”
“Not in the same manner as your Majesty. You are so great, Sire, that you could easily grant the Pontiff some spot in which his independence might be conspicuous, and in which he could have the free exercise of his ministry.”
Canova’s comment triggered an angry reaction. “What! Do I not allow him to do everything he pleases, so long as he does not interfere in temporal concerns?”
“Yes, but your ministers do not follow your example. As soon as the Pope publishes any order which is displeasing to the French Government it is immediately annulled.”
“How, do I not permit the bishops to govern the church as they think fit? Is there no religion here? Who restored the Altars? Who protected the clergy?”
“If your Majesty had pious subjects, they would be still more attached and submissive to your person.”
“This is what I desire, but the Pope is German all over,” Napoleon said, looking at Marie Louise.
“I can assure you, that when I was in Germany the Pope was said to be wholly French,” she said.
“He would not drive either the Russians or the English from his dominions. That is the cause of our misunderstanding.” At this moment, Marshal Duroc entered the room. “He has even pretended to excommunicate me. Is he not aware that we might become the same as the English and the Russians?”
“I humbly crave your Majesty’s pardon; but the zeal which animates me inspires me with confidence to speak with freedom; you must allow, Sire, such a schism is contrary to your interests. I sincerely pray, that heaven may grant you a long life; but when misfortune arrives, it is to be feared that some ambitious person might suddenly appear, who, for his own views, embracing those of the Pope, might occasion great disturbances in the state. In a short time, Sire, you will be a father; you should think of fixing things upon a solid basis. I earnestly entreat your Majesty to effect, in some shape or other, a reconciliation with the Pope.”
“You are then anxious to see us reconciled—so am I too; but recollect what the Romans were before they had Popes.”
“Let your Majesty also reflect, how religious the Romans were when they were great,” Canova replied. “That Caesar who is so much celebrated, ascended on his knees the steps of the Capitol to approach the Temple of Jupiter. Armies never engaged unless the religious auspices were favourable; and if a battle were fought, or even gained without them, the general was punished. Marcellus’s zeal for sacred things is well known; also how a consul was condemned for having taken off the tiles from the temple of Jupiter, in Greece. In God’s name, I entreat your Majesty to protect religion and its chief, and to preserve the beautiful temples of Italy and Rome. It is far more delightful to be the object of affection that that of fear.”
“That is what I wish,” Napoleon said, ending the conversation.21
In the course of their sessions, Canova found Marie Louise to be warm with her husband, who she affectionately called “Nana” and “Popo.” During the next sitting, the discussion focused on the art and architecture of Canova’s beloved Venice. “I assure your Majesty that the Venetians are a worthy people,” said Canova, his eyes brimming with tears.
“You speak the truth, I believe them to be so.”
“But they are not happy Sire; commerce is proscribed—the taxes are heavy; in some departments people cannot sustain life, this is the case with Passereano, in favor of which a celebrated pamphlet has been published, which perhaps your majesty has seen.”
Canova gave Napoleon a copy of the pamphlet from his portfolio.
“I will speak to Aldini about it,” said Napoleon, who took the pamphlet with him when he left the room.
During the next sitting, the discussion centered on Florence and the Church of Santa Croce where Canova had just installed Alfieri’s funerary monument, alongside those of Machiavelli and Galileo.
“The Church of Santa Croce is in a wretched condition; the rain penetrates through the roof and a thorough repair is necessary,” explained Canova. “Your Majesty’s glory is interested in the preservation of these fine monuments; if the government takes the revenues, it is but just to leave the donations for the necessary repairs of the building. It is the same with the cathedral of Florence; dilapidations have already commenced, for want of funds to keep it in order. As we are upon the subject of churches, the repositories of interesting works of art I beg to say, that I am charged to supplicate your Majesty, that you will not permit the monuments of art to be sold to the Jews.”
“How sold? All that is worth anything shall be brought here.”
“May it graciously please your Majesty to leave Florence in possession of all its monuments, which are a necessary accompaniment to the works in fresco, which it is impossible to remove. It would even be advisable, that the president of the academy of Florence might be at liberty to take the necessary measures for the preservation of these beautiful specimens, both of architecture and of fresco.”
“I am very willing.”
“It will be very glorious for your Majesty; the more so, as I have heart it reported, that your Majesty’s family is Florentine.”
At this, Marie Louise turned around and said to her husband, “You are not a Corsican then?”
“Yes, but of Florentine origin.”
Canova added: “The president of the academy of Florence, who interested himself with so much zeal in the preservation of the monuments, was the senator Alessandri,
descended from one of the most illustrious families of Florence, one of whose daughters had formerly been married to a branch of the Bonaparte family. Thus you are an Italian, Sire, and we pride ourselves upon it.”
“I am so, certainly.”22
Since his effort on behalf of Pius had not gone well, Canova changed his approach. During their next encounter, the sculptor made an appeal for Rome’s Academy of St. Luke. Lacking a school, revenues, or resources, the Academy, he suggested, needed to be organized like that of Milan.
Speaking of the Academy and the Roman artists, Napoleon said, “Italy is ill provided with painters; we have much better ones in France.” He added that the French were deficient in coloring; but they surpassed the Italians in design.
Canova defended Italy’s painters, adding that “. . . French artists received far greater encouragement; that they were far more numerous; and that if reckoned, their number would be found to exceed that of all the artists in the rest of Europe.”
Napoleon questioned Canova about the architectural works in Paris. “Have you seen the bronze column?” [the Austerlitz Column]
“It strikes me as very fine, Sire.”
“I do not like those eagles at the corners.”
“The same ornament, however, is found on the Trajan column, of which this is an imitation.”
“Will the arch constructing in the Wood de Boulogne be a fine one?”
“Particularly so. There are so many of your Majesty’s works which are truly worthy of the ancient Romans, especially the magnificent roads.”
“Next year, the Cornice road will be completed, by which you may travel from Paris to Genoa without crossing the snow. I shall make another from Parma to the Gulf of La Spezia, where I intend forming a large harbour.”
“These are grand projects worthy of your Majesty’s vast genius; but the preservation of the fine productions of the ancients should not be forgotten,” said Canova.23