Rassegna storica del Risorgimento

Remembering Ghisa 429
in fact as diverse in their origins as Americans, adding that his own name was Germanie, probably originally Longobard.). The most notable charac-teristic of Ghisa which awed ali of us was his inexhaustible energy. He did everything a tempo accelerato, Words poured from his lips with the velocity of bullets from a machine gun (it took most of us a week to be able to understand his lectures). And his stride matched his speech. His walk was more like a canter and, as we trailed behind nini in docility around the streets of Rome from the Piazza del Popolo to S. Andrea della Valle, from S. Pietro to S. Giovanni in Laterano from S. Maria in Cosmedin to the Aventino most of us found it hard to keep up with him. We were amazed too by his omniscience. He seemed to know not only the historical background of any church, palazzo or piazza that he pointed out to us but was also prepared with commentary of an aesthetic nature on the techniques of painting, sculpture and architecture. He had unbounded enthusiasm for Italy and for Rome and he shared his knowledge with joyous and inexhaustible exuberance. It was in Ghisa's company and through Ghisa's eyes that I saw for the first rime not only ali the treasures of the Eternai City but also the fountains of Tivoli, the castelli romani and the baths at Ostia. Ghisa was open hearted and out-going, and after a few days together he and Matthews and I became fast friends, forming a bond that would last ali our lives. Ghisa had a ready sense of humor, too; playful and mischievous but never malicious. He referred to us as his gregge; he was our pastore how pleased I was when after a week of rambles through Rome he designated me his cane pecoraio, with the charge of seeing that the flock did not get lost or dispersed in the process of dodging trame or transferring from one little tramear to another. (It was the Rome of tram cars and carrozze as it was the Rome of the Hotel de Russie, the Aragno and ubiquitous vespasiani.)
Not long after the beginning of August the faculty decided that the heat of Rome was intolerable, and, on short notice, moved the corsi estivi to Varese. We lost a few students by this displacement but it didn't seem to bother the professors. The faithful accepted their destiny and traveled (Matthews and I in third class wooden carriages) up the peninsula pausing for fermate of a day or so at Florence and Bologna. From Varese we made excursions to Milano, the Lombard lakes, and Monte Rosa. Always with Ghisa in charge, showing us where to go and telling us what to admire. Through Ghisa's eyes I first saw the Duomo of Milano and Leo-nardo's Cenacolo ...The corsi ended officially on August 24; Matthews and I decided to extend our exploration of the country with a visit to Venice and points south. To our delight Ghisa consented to accompany us. By this time we thought of him as an elder brother. (For the record I note that in 1925 Ghisa was 30 years old, Matthews 25 and I was 20.)
In the sixty years that nave elapsed sin ce that golden summer I have often revisited Italy and never without seeing Ghisa and fìnding him always the same lively, generous and cheerful friend that he was from the beginning... I remember a lunch with him at Fagiano's in August of 1939, with the war only a few weeks away, (Ghisa, in his innocent optimism, was sure that at the last minute Mussolini would sever his German connection and opt for the altìes of old). I remembered a visit to his house in Christmas tima