Sat 8. [8 February 1902] There was a violent storm in the night, but it
cleared by breakfast though there was still a wind. We went to the
Capella Palatina and saw first the palace with a most lovely room of
Roger II covered with mosaic - birds and animals on a gold ground.
The chapel is past all words. Every inch of it is covered with a jewel
work of marbles and mosaics so that the eyes almost wearies
following the endless variety of patterns and rest again with the soft
golden glow of the whole. The pulpit, the throne at the w. end and the
chancel screen and altar's are incredibly beautiful. There is also a
Byzantine marble candelabrum standing 10 ft high at least and one
exquisite column of birds animals and foliage. Then to the Museum
which contains besides some interesting Saracen Norman work,
metopes from Solinus which are most curious. They belong to the
600s and the 500s BC and what is particularly striking is how much
less good the Doric work is than the Ionic. Some were of the time of
the ?gina pediments - but the divine breath that animates the ?gina
figures and reminds one of all that was to spring from the Ionic hand
and brain was absent here. So that of the tiny Greek world only one
tiny part knew how to light the torch of beauty that has shone clearer
than all other lights through all the ages. There are also 2 heads of
bishops and a saint on a gold ground ascribed to Antonello and a
most lovely Dutch picture - I can't think who by but it is of a much
brighter colouring than Van Eyck. A gloom was cast on us by the
stealing of Father's pocket book with 300 lire intil't. After lunch we went
by train to Santa Flavia and walked up the headland to the ruins of
ancient Soluntum [Solunto], a place like a miniature Pompeii
[Pompei], with a great paved road winding up to it and a little
columned gymnasium - and a view away and away to where Cefalu
sticks out on its sister headland. On the hill was growing a sort of
dwarf palm, a cactus and olive trees and a few almonds just coming
into flower. Walked down to Bagheria where Hugo and I went up
through the squalid village, awfully dirty with open drains running down
the streets, to the villa Valguarnera, half ruined and grass grown (the
principe comes only twice a year) where from a lovely lovely terrace
with statues and sweet flowering jessamine we looked out onto the
sea and the olive grove plain and the mountains. Mr Churchill came
after dinner. As we sat on the point of Soluntum we cd see all down
the coast the headlands on which stood former towns; Hymera
(Termini) in the middle of the bay and Cephaloedium at the extreme
east; but Soluntum stood higher than all. The sea was quite calm and
blue but the fingers of a stormy land wind brushed over it, tiny white
boats like swans floated on it and on the horizon were the peaks of
some of the Lipari islands [Lipari Is. (Eolie)]. At night I was wakened
by a man singing in the narrow street below. A guitar throbbed like a
little heart through his song and his voice filled the street. The songs
he sang were quite Oriental and quite Oriental the long notes at the
end of the phrase falling and falling down the street till he and his Arab
music passed away into silence.