Nisida
Nisida is a tiny island which blends into the foot of Mount Posilippo not very far from Naples. Berlioz made a short visit there. Here is how he describes the excursion in his Memoirs (chapter 41):
I was strolling nonchalantly along the shore, moved at the thought of poor Tasso, whose modest tomb I had visited with Mendelssohn a few months earlier in Rome at the convent of Sant’Onofrio, and absorbed in reflections on the misfortune of poets who are poets of the heart, etc. etc. All of a sudden Tasso makes me think of Cervantes, Cervantes of his charming pastorale Galatea, Galatea of the delightful figure named Nisida who shines next to her in the novel, Nisida of the island in the Bay of Pozzuoli which bears that charming name, and I am seized unexpectedly with an irresistible desire to visit it.
I rush there, and presently I am in Posilippo Cave. I rush out, still at the double, reach the shore, spot a boat and want to hire it. I ask for four rowers, six come forward. I offer them a decent price, pointing out that I did not need six rowers to sail across to Nisida in a cockleshell. They insist with a smile and ask me about thirty francs for a journey which was worth five at most. I was in good spirits; two young lads were standing nearby without saying a word and looking envious. I thought the pretensions of my rowers were outrageous and laughable, and pointing to the two lazzaronetti:
« — All right, thirty francs, but all eight of you jump in and let us row with a will. »
Shouts of delight, young and old all leap for joy. We jump into the boat and reach Nisida in a few minutes. Leaving my ship in the care of the crew, I go up to the island, criss-cross it in every direction, and watch the sun setting behind Cape Misenum that the poetry of the Aeneid has made famous. The sea, meanwhile, oblivious of Virgil, Aeneas, Ascanius, Misenum, and Palinurus, shimmers with countless reflections in a major key.
As I was drifting around with no fixed purpose a soldier speaking decent French comes up and volunteers to show me around the various features of the island, the best viewpoints, etc. I gladly accept his offer. After an hour I take my leave and reach for my purse to give him the usual buona mano, but he steps back looking almost offended, and rejects my offer saying:
« — Sir, what are you doing? I ask you nothing, … except… to pray to God for me.
— Of course I will, I say to myself as I put my purse back in my pocket, what a funny idea, and I’ll be damned if I fail. »
That evening, while going to bed, I recited in all seriousness a first Pater for my good sergeant, but the second time round I burst out laughing. I very much fear the good fellow has not struck gold and must have remained sergeant as before.
I would probably have stayed in Nisida till the next day had one of my sailors not been delegated by the captain to come and hail me, and warn that as the wind was freshening we would have trouble rejoining the mainland if we did not weigh anchor and set sail without delay. I follow this wise advice and walk down. We all resume our positions on the ship […].
Island of Nisida
This photo has been scanned from John L. Stoddards Lectures, Volume V – Paris La Belle France and Spain, by John L. Stoddard (Balch Brothers, 1898), in our own collection.
© 2003-2008 Michel Austin and Monir Tayeb for the picture and information on this page. All rights of reproduction reserved.
Copyright notice: The texts, photos, images and musical scores on all pages of this site are covered by UK Law and International Law. All rights of publication or reproduction of this material in any form, including Web page use, are reserved. Their use without our explicit permission is illegal.
Back to Berlioz in Italy main page