SSRIS SRST REET Te CaO en EC
~ ss ST et nT
: Hite, —
43
ILLUSTRATED EXCURSIONS
ITALY.
“The province of Abruzzo, unfrequented by the generality of travellers, and unknown even to the
inhabitants of the neighbouring districts, like Sicily, has been represented as a country uncivilized with
regard to society, infested by robbers, inaccessible from mountains, and fitter for the residence of wild beasts
than of rational beings. But I must here repeat with gratitude, that in these remote and unfrequented
tracts we meet with that genuine and cordial hospitality, which is too seldom to be found in more favoured
and more populous countries ; and such as I shall for ever call to mind with pleasure and grateful remembrance.”
Sir R. C. Hoare. Classical Tour through Maly, vol. i. p. 377.
ILLUSTRATED EXCURSIONS
ee
BY EDWARD LEAR.
LONDON:
THOMAS M‘LEAN, 26, HAYMARKET.
M.DCCC.XLVI.
THE
TO
RIGHT HON, EDWARD EARL OF DERBY,
EIC., ETC.,
THIS VOLUME
IS MOST RESPECTFULLY AND GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED
BY
THE AUTHOR.
RG,
PREFACE,
Iy offering this Volume to the Public, it is almost necessary to
state, that its object is the illustration of a part of Italy which,
though nowise inferior in interest to those portions of that country so
‘commonly visited, has hitherto attracted but little attention. With
1e exception of the Tours by Sir R. Cour Hoarz, Bart., and the
Honourable Kxpren Craven, I am not aware of any published account
‘the Abruzzi provinces in English; and the drawings with which the
‘ollowing pages are illustrated are, I believe, the first hitherto given
“a part of Central Italy as romantic as it is unfrequented.
I would beg the indulgence of the Public towards the literary por-
ion of the Work, which I have thought it right to print with little
,
alteration from my own journals written during my rambles, adding
only such historical and other information concerning the places visited,
as I have sought for in various Authors. Much yet remains to be
explored and illustrated throughout the northern provinces of the
kingdom of Naples, and so far from this Volume containing a full
account of that interesting country, I should wish it to be regarded
as a suggestion for the more careful observation of future and abler
Tourists.
I have executed the whole of the Lithographic drawings from my
own sketches, and have endeavoured to preserve a close fidelity to
the Oris
the Architectural subjects, which were transferred to the wood from
nals. The Vignettes are also by my own hand, excepting
my sketches by Mr. R. Branston.
vill
To those Ladies, to whose kindness I owe the arrangement of the
Airs given at the end of the Volume, my best thanks are due; but I
regret, that, owing to the difficulty of writing correctly such music
as is only retained by ear, the Appendix is less perfect than I could
-have wished.
The Lithographic Drawings have been printed at the establishment
of Mess
various Artists by whom my drawings on wood have been engraved,
s. Hutumaypen and Wanroy. To those Gentlemen, and to the
as well as to Messrs. Bryrnny and Co., Printers, I am desirous of
expressing my thanks for the care bestowed on their several de-
partments.
During a long residence in Italy, I have had opportunities of col-
lecting numerous illustrations of scenery little known in England,
especially of that in the near neighbourhood of Rome; and should
the present Volume meet with the approbation of the Public, a second
series of Excursions may be anticipated at some future period.
Epwarp Luar.
27, Duxe Srreut, Sr. Jamns’s,
April, 1846,
LIST OF VIGNETTES.
Drawn on Wood by Engraved by Page
1. CAVAMONTE . : : : 2 Baliga, Hannu, Fussenn. 2
2. LA MENTORELLA Q ie J. Wuiwrrr. 5
3. APPROACH TO TAGLIACOZZO ; P fn J. Basmy, 12
4. AVEZZANO : ' i z : a J. Wunverr. 15
5. CASTLE OF AVEZZANO J. Basti. —
6. APPROACH TO ANO : : ‘ J. Wumenr. 25
7. PIAZZA DI CELANO . : : 4 : 3 FA 27
8. GORIANO SICULI . : : : : 4 Fi 28
9. S. SPIRITO DI SOLMONA : : : : - - 30
10. \
ll. (CHURCH, &c., OF SANTA GIUSTA, IN AQUILA R. R. Branston. 45
i, J
i
14, }
15, (8: MARIA DI COLLEGMAGGIO, WINDOWS, &c. m . 46—47
16.
17. LA MADONNA DELLE GROTTE ? , E. Luar. 8. Wuarams. 48
18. PIAZZA DI CIVITA DUCALE : ; . S. Marmn. 51
19. 8. MARIA DELLA VITTORIA. ‘ : a J. Bastin. 72
CASTLE OF ORTUCCHIO . : : d Hannu. Fusser. 81
: * }costunus OF SCANNO : ' : a 8. Wmuams. 86-87
TM ADies wUIG ‘ : ‘ , . J. Bastin. 91
IME OF ABADESSA : ‘ . 3 8. Winniams. 103
§. M. DI SOCCORSO. . , ; : . _R. Branston. —_R, Branston. 112
OLD HOUSE IN AQUILA ; : : a5 i 112
MOPOLINO : : : 3 ; me fn 114
PETRELLA . : ' : ‘ ; E. Lear. J. Wuiwwer. 117
PIETRA SECCA . ; : : , : as J. Basti. 119
LAGO DI PATERNO ; , ‘ : e Hanna, Fussern. 123
8. PIETRO DEGLI AGOSTINIANI. LIONESS R. Branston. _R. Bransron. 130
S. MARIA FUORI DELLA PORTA. LION ‘ a 131
CHURCH OF CATIGNANO . ; : 6&1, line, Hansu. Fussenn. 134
YCESCO. AMATRICE . 2 f R. Branston. _R, Branston. 136
8. AGOSTINO. AMATRICE ; : ; . . 37
36. TOWER IN AMATRICE : ; : x , 137
37. WINDOW OF S. DOMENICO. AQUILA . : > ; 139
38. CASTLE OF AQUILA ‘ ; ; : KE. Luar. J. Basrin. 139
39. DOOR OF S. M. PAGANICA. AQUILA . . BR. Branston. —-R. Branston. 140
{VIGNETTE TITLE: )
(S. MARIA DI COLLEMAGGIO. AQUILAS ~ a
. TAGLIACOZZO: from above
. TAGLIACOZZO: from below
. LAGO DI FUCINO
. SANTA MARIA DI LUCO
3. TRASACCO
. CELANO
. CELANO
. SOLMONA
. SOLMONA
. SAN PELINO
2, CITTA DI PENNA
3. AQUILA
. ANTRODOCO
. RIETI
OF PLATES.
16. MAGLIANO
17. ALBE
| 18, ALBE
21. P
CINA
23, SCANNO
27. ABADESSA
28. ISOLA
29. LIONESSA
30. AMATRICE
19, CIVITA D’ANTINO
20. CIVITA D’ANTINO
22, LAGO DI SCANNO
24. PASS OF ANVERSA
. CASTEL DI SANGRO
26. PIZZO FERRATO
WORKS REFERRED TO IN THIS VOLUME.
Axsertt, Fra Leandro.
Descrittione di tutta l’'Italia. Venetia, 1596.
Antrvort, D. Ant. Lodoy.
Raccolta di Memorie Istoriche delle 3 provincie degli Abruzzi. Napoli, 781.
Bactrvi, Geo
Opera Omnia. (Dissertatio de Terramotu Romano ac urbium adjacentium anno 1703.) Venetiis,
1721.
Camera, Matteo.
Istoria della Citta e Costiera di Amalfi. Napoli, 1836.
Czsarn, Cav. Giuseppe di,
Storia di Manfredi, Re di Sicilia e Puglia. Napoli, 1837.
Crritto, Bernardino.
Degl’ Annali della Citta dell? Aquila.
Corstenant, Pietro Antonio, Vescovo di Venosa.
De Viris Illustribus Marsorum. Roma, 1712.
Re:
Marsicana. Napoli, 1727.
Oramer, J. A.
Geographical and Historical Description of Ancient Italy. Oxford, 1826.
Craven, Hon, Keppel.
Excursions in the Abruzzi and Northern Provinces of Naples. London, 1838.
Det Re, Giuseppe.
Descrizione de’ Reali Dominj al di qua del Faro, nel Regno delle due Sicilie. Napoli, 1830.
Gentitx, Dottore, M.
Quadro di Cittd di Penna. Napoli, 1832.
Giovenazzt, Vito Maria.
Della Citta di Aveia ne Vestini. Roma, 1773.
Gaustinrant, Lorenzo.
Dizionario geografico-ragionato del Regno di Napoli. Napoli, 1797.
Guarno, Galeazzo.
Historia del Ministerio del Cardinale Giulio Mazarino. Colonia, 1669.
Guarrant, Giuseppe Ant.
Monumenti Sabini. Roma, 1827.
Hoarg, Sir Richard Colt, Bart.
A Classical Tour through Italy and Sicily. London, 1819.
Lanai.
History of Painting. London, 1828.
Lineratore, Giuseppe.
Navigazione della Pescara. Aquila, 1834.
Marreni, Felice.
Le Antichita de’ Sicoli. Aquila, 1835.
Marres, D. E. di.
Memorie Storiche de’ Peligni
Mazzetua, Scipione.
Deserittione del Regno di Napoli. Napoli, 1586.
Mezzavri, Fra Bernardino.
Memorie della Chiesa di 8. Cesidio nella Terra di Trasacco. Roma, 1769.
Nrssr, Antonio.
Analisi Storico-topogratico, &e., &e,, della carta di Roma. Roma, 1837.
Pacnicnenui, Abate Gio. Battista.
Tl Regno di Napoli in Prospettiva. Napoli, 1703.
Pierro, P. D. Ignazio di.
Memorie Storiche della Citta di Solmona. Napoli, 1804.
Porzto, Camillo.
La Congiura de’ Baroni del Regno di Napoli contra il Re Ferdinando 1°.
Promis, Carlo.
Le Antichita di Alba Fucense. Roma, 1836.
Rivera, Commendatore Carlo Afan de.
Progetto della Ristaurazione dello Emissario di Claudio. Napoli, 1836.
Summoner, Gio. Ant.
Historia della Citta e Regno di Napoli. Napoli, 1675.
Trnorz, Cay. Michele.
di Abruzzo Citeriore. Napoli, 1832.
Relazione del Viaggio fatto in alcuni luog!
La Vita di Cola di Rienzo. Forli, 1828.
Ristretto della vita di $. Pietro Celestino Papa V. Aquila, 1835.
fo wyporrneeog
puayny 4
ALY UAY PT PIAYY IY] JO SILA PUNO) BY] SAPVIYIUA PUT Yf9V79 af
nh DUO ASN
6
——————————— SY UOUMIIXT
101A EIT.
FLTC Nik ONE PERL Bad
ONUOLT MY \
wdog (&
our
LS
ars
TTOIS'
Dino,
r
“IZZOAAV
[MUA aE
ILLUSTRATED EXCURSIONS
1a: er
No. L.
IN THE KINGDOM OF NAPLES, 1
a 26th, 1843.—Ir was not without experiencing many delays that we
were at last enabled to begin our long-proposed tour in the Abruzzi, or
three Northern provinces of the kingdom of Naple
The plan arranged was, first, that we should gain a general idea of our
to
ground on horseback, and afterwards that I should proceed alone on foot
sketch and examine details. C.K. lent me his Arab, (by name Gridiron.) he
riding the iron-gray; and, having sent my luggage to Rieti, we started from
Frascati, with our valigie strapped before our saddles, on as brilliant a morning
as one could desire for the beginning of a long journey. We took our way
along the vine-covered hills of Monte Porzio and Monte Compatri, and down to
the melancholy Colonna, and so across the fresh bright Campagna to Gallicano,
which is thought by some antiquaries to be the site of the ancient Pedum, though
by others that city is supposed to have been situated at Zagarolo.* There is a most
beantiful view of the modern town about a mile and a half before you reach
it, rising on its long, narrow rock of tufa over the wide plain, and backed
by the high mountain range of Guadagnolo, the loftiest in the neighbourhood of
Rome. From this point the entrance is well seen to that remarkable cut by
: Cramer, An. Italy, vol. ii. 73.
2
which the ancient Via Prenestina was carried through the rocks which guard
the valley of Gallicano, and at this picturesque passage we soon arrived. It
is now known by the name of Cavamonte, and is about sixteen miles from
Rome. Throughout its extent the old pavement of the Via Pranestina is
quite perfect; and a solemn feeling of antiquity impresses you as you pass
along it, shaded by walls of rock more than seventy feet in height, half
covered with luxuriant foliage. The ancient road is here twenty-seven feet
in breadth; its usual width being but fourteen." A little chapel halfway
through the pass adds to the beauty of the scene.
As to Gallicano, be it Pedum or not, it stands finely on its ridge, to which
you look up as you pe
s from a quiet valley; but it has no point of general
interest, though its neighbourhood abounds with studies for a landscape painter :
here, a peep down those ravines so choked with vegetation, appreciated only
by lovers of Campagna scenery, opening out to lines of yellow plain or blue
@ Nibbi, Anal. i. 451.
3
hill; there, a narrow path, a shrine, some overhanging rocks with long tresses
of creepers and wild fig, and a morsel of the town, completing the picture.
The Historical legends of Pedum are these:— that it was one of the
Latin cities leagued to restore Tarquin; was allied with the Romans, and
captured by Coriolanus ; united itself with the Tiburtines, and was destroyed by
L. Furius Camillus. Thenceforward Pedum is heard of no more. Nor is
there any known record of Gallicano till A.D. 992, when (and until the
thirteenth century) it belonged to the Conti: afterwards to the Colonna,
through whom it passed to the Pallavicini.’ Of the usual vicissitudes by
siege and pillage, common to all the towns of the Roman Campagna during the
middle ages, Gallicano was not without its share: at present it is little more
than a village, and scarcely contains one thousand inhabitants.
Trotting away over the flat ground, or winding slowly down and up the
steep sides of woody ravines, we skirted the grounds of Villa Catena, and were
soon at Poli, placed at the foot of the mountain of Guadagnolo, whose sides
we began to ascend, both as the shortest way of reaching Subiaco ere night,
and Kbecause we wished to visit the picturesque Mentorella Chapel near its
summit. But we had not started early enough to avoid the noon-day heat,
which was rather severe as we toiled up the mule-path, leading our horses, which
had yet a long day’s work before them; and we rejoiced to arrive at the cool
fountain two-thirds of the way up.
There is something exceedingly grand and Poussinesque in the rock of
Guadagnolo, as seen from this shady fount; and yet, often as I have been there,
I was always too hot or too tired to sketch it. What an ascent! The plains
of Rome stretched out at our feet, and unfolding like a map at every step. At
the crowning height, —the well-known square head of Guadagnolo, which is
more than four thousand feet above the level of the sea, and is seen from every
part of the Campagna,—one is rather surprised to find a compact little town
or village (called also Guadagnolo, and containing between two and three hundred
inhabitants,) oddly wedged as it were into the rocks which surround the whole
place with a natural wall, and hide even the highest houses.’ This strange little
@ Nibbi, Anal. ii. 552.
> The town of Guadagnolo, according to Nibbi, “@ situato sopra una delle cime del Monte Vulturella,
o Mentorella, pit alta di quella di Monte Gennaro, e per conseguenza é la punta pit elevata di quelle che
dominano immediatamente la campagna di Roma,.”—Nibbi, Anal. ii. 152,
5 English feet in height.—Ibid. 106.
Monte Gennaro is 42
|
|
4
hive of dwellings, which ig much more clean and comfortable than one would
expect in so wild a spot, does not seem to have existed before the tenth century,
when the breaking-up of many of the towns in the plain may have led to this
high place of refuge being chosen by fugitives; and one more out of harm’s
way they certainly could not have fixed upon. The earliest records of it as
a town date about 1137; and it has belonged, with Poli, to the Counts of
Tusculum and Segni* It was purchased by the father of the present Duke
of Bracciano, who is also Duke of Poli and Guadagnolo. Though at so great
an elevation, its little territory is very fertile in corn and pasture; and, before
scaling the last outworks of this mountain fortress, we passed through many a
smiling field and cheerful harvest-scene.
We were not sorry to reach the house inhabited by the Ministro or
Steward of Torlonia, and his uncle, who rejoices in the name of Don
Ermenengildo Salviati, and is Archpriest of the Mentorella Chapel. Here
we reposed through the heat of the day; for the Casa Salviati is the
palace of Guadagnolo, and the good-natured old clergyman piques himself
not unreasonably on the neatness of his stables and garden. The roof
of the house is level with the highest rocks on the mountain, forming a
sort of terrace, whence at sun-rise the glory of the vast scene is beyond
measure impressive.
Having sufficiently rested and fed Gridiron, Iron-gray, and ourselves, we
proceeded downward on our way to Subiaco; but, about a quarter of a
mile below the town, the remarkable Hermitage and Church of La Mentorella
caused us some delay. These are built on the edge of an isolated pre-
cipice, jutting out from the mountain side over the valley of Girano, and
possess interest from their antiquity and the legends attached to them, as
well as from the wild character of the scenery in which they are placed.
Here, in a cave at the foot of the rock, San Benedetto is believed to
have lived in the sixth century, previous to his going to Subiaco; and a
tradition of far earlier date (during the reign of the Emperor Trajan) re-
presents the crag of La Mentorella as that where a vision of the deer
with a crucifix between his horns led to the conversion of St. Eustace to
Christianity. A flight of stairs outside the chapel, leads to the Campanile,
* Nibbi, Anal. ii, 152.
0
which is surmounted by a pair of antlers, commemorating the event; and
these steps are diligently ascended by kneeling pilgrims on the féte-day of
September 29.
It is certain that a church existed here as early as the year A.D. 594,
since it was then bestowed by Gregory I. on the Abbot of Subiaco. In
a.d. 958, the mountain of Guadagnolo, (then known by the names Wultvilla
or Vulturella, whence Mentorella,*) together with its church, dedicated to
S® Me
ia, was possessed by the monastery of San Gregorio in Rome; but
the building appears to have been abandoned after the fourteenth century,
though it was restored by the Emperor Leopold I. in 1660 The Gothic
chapel now standing is of the tenth century.
T have often been present at an annual festa held here on the 29th of
September, and I remember at my first visit to have been particularly struck
with all I saw. As I climbed the sides of Guadagnolo, on one of those
cloudy afternoons of an Italian autumn before the rain clears the sky for
a bright October, numerous parties of peasants were slowly following the
winding track, chaunting litanies, or saying prayers in an under-tone. Many
@ Nibbi, Anal. ii.
» Tid. ii.
6
carried large stones from the summit to a spot not far below the town,
where they were added to an enormous heap, the result of centuries of
such annual visits. Lower down, on a platform of rock in front of the
Mentorella Chapel, were gathered many hundred people (for a fair is held
during all the night, and part of the day following); and the confusion of
men, women, horses, asses, and goods of all kinds, was strikingly picturesque,
seen, for it was now dark, by the broken light of many scattered fires.
The Chapel itself on its solitary crag, backed by the high line of sombre
mountains which divide the Roman from the Neapolitan dominions, and
hang over the dim valley of Girano and Siciliano far below, was crowded
with peasants, kneeling or sleeping under its dark arches forming alto-
gether so wild a scene, that, unable to tear myself away, I remained wan-
dering from fire to fire, among the groups of people, nearly the whole night
through.
From La Mentorella, there is a sort of path of steps cut in the rock,
leading to the valley of Girano; a steep descent and narrow, choked by over-
growing brambles, and crossed by roots of chesnut trees, streams, &c. This
we adopted by way of a short road to Subiaco, and were soon sufficiently em.
barrassed by losing the track, or by getting among high beech-woods, whence
we saw nothing: our steeds, too, decidedly objected to being led down such
ugly rocks and steep corners; so we drove them before us, which was scarcely
a better plan, since they bothered us sadly, by striking into private short
cuts of their own imagining, or by falling in their attempts to make quicker
Wi
By reason of all such dela
» it was late ere we reached the valley
of Girano; fully owning the justice of Signor Nibbi’s remark on the situation
of Guadagnolo, “incommoda oltremodo é la sua situazione.”
Glad to be at the bottom of the mountain, we crossed the little plain,
passed Girano, and wound through beautiful chesnut woods, till we reached
the hills overlooking the valley below Civitella, just as heavy purple clouds
shut out the last red line of sun-set. Thenceforth we journeyed on in
utter darkn
over paths by no means pleasant, to Subiaco, where we
slept.
July 27th, 1843.— We were off by sun-rise, down the long valley of
the Anio; quitting it at the road to Arsoli, and following the Via Valeria,
which anciently led from Tibur to the country of the Marsi: its traces are
still visible here and there. Having passed Aysoli (the frontier town of
the Roman States) crowned by the palace of Prince Massimo, and having
caught a glimpse of Riofreddo on our left, we were soon in the pretty plain
of Cavaliere, than which, though not of great extent, there are few more
pleasing ; for it is so surrounded by towns perched on their hills, that, which-
ever way you turn, there is an interesting object,—Valinfreddo, Poggio-Cinolfo,
Pereto, Collalto, Camerata, Oricoli, Rocca di Botte, &c Corsig. Reg. Mar.
© Cramer, An, It. i. 289. 4 Thid. i. 290. © Giustiniani, Diz. Disc. Prel.
8
Frederic IT, by whom it was formed into nine provinces, governed each by
a Giustiziere, an office created by King Roger I.*
These Giustizierati were—1. Abruzzo; 2. Terra di Lavoro; 3. Principato.
4. Basilicata; 5. Capitanata; 6. Terra di Bari; 7. Terra d’Otranto; 8. Val
di Crati e Terra Giordana; 9. Calabria.
In ap. 1278; the province of Abruzzo was further divided into Abruzzo
Citeriore and Ulteriore, by King Charles I. of Anjou. The latter of these was
again subdivided into Ulteriore Primo and Secondo by the Marchese di Carpio
in a. D. 1684.°
The provinces of the three Abruzzi are bounded on the north and west
by the States of the Church, on the east by the Adriatic, and on the south by
the Neapolitan counties of Terra di Lavoro and Molise or Campobasso.
Their united population stands thus in Del Re, whose description of the king-
dom of Naples is one of the best published, so far as it is completed.
PROVINCES. CAPITAL. POPULATION.
Abruzzo Citeriore (or la Chietina) * . Chieti . 5 : - 85,482°
Abruzzo 1° Ulteriore (or la Teramana) é Teramo . D ° 190,9164
Abruzzo 2"° Ulteriore (or YAquilana) . - Aquila é i a Pl je
Total
Each province is governed by an Intendente, and is divided into districts
(distretti) which are governed by Sott’? Intendenti, who reside at the Capo
Luogo of their respective districts. The capital of each province is the seat
of the Intendenza.
DISTRICTS.
1. Chieti.
Abruzzo Citeriore : Fi é 2. Lanciano.
3. Vasto.
ie A 1. Teramo.
Abruzzo 1° Ulteriore :
Penne.
. Aquila.
Abruzzo 2° Ulteriore : : 4
. Avezzano.
1
2. Solmona.
3
4
. Civita Ducale.
The distretti are further subdivided into Circondarii, under the control of
Giudici; and these again into Communes.
® Giustiniani, Diz. Disc. Prel, » Thid.
Del Re, ii. 329. @ Thid. ii. 23. © Thid. ii. 115.
9
By far the greater portion of the territory of the three Abruzzi is of a
mountainous character, some of the highest points of the Apennines being
situated in these province Monte Corno (usually called 2 Gran Sasso
d'Italia), Terminillo, and Velino, in the Abruzzo Ult. 2°; and the Maiella in
Abruzzo Citeriore. Of these, Monte Corno is 9577 Paris feet above the level
of the sea;* Terminillo, 6597 ;> Velino, about 7000; La Maiella, 8000.°
The provinces of Chieti and Teramo are less interesting to a landscape
painter than that of Aquila, the scenery of which, though somewhat bleak, is
wild and majestic to a great degree: its towns also have more attractions both
in a picturesque and historical point of view, and I confess my prejudices are
equally in favour of its inhabitants. Most of the country between the Apen-
nines and the Adriatic is highly cultivated, abounding with the vine,
olive, &.: that in the higher ground of the Abruzzi 1° and 2” Ult. is chiefly
pasture land. To the south and east of the provinces, a large tract, bounded
by the Terra di Lavoro and the Papal States, is thickly wooded; but extreme
bareness is the characteristic of the greater extent of the Abru
> territory.
The flocks of the Abruzzo Ulteriore 2°, according to Del Re, amount to
seven hundred thousand head in number, most part of which migrate annually
to Apulia at the end of September, by the three principal trattw? or sheepwalks
commencing in the neighbourhood of Aquila, Celano, and Pescaseroli; and
return by the same route after the shearing in May. Part go to the Roman
Campagna in October, by the route of Rieti or Arsoli: these are chiefly from
the districts of Civita Ducale and Aquila. Some remain in their native plains.
All feed in the province during summer, in the valleys of Rocca di Mezzo, the
environs of the Gran Sasso, the Cicolano, the plains of Lionessa, or Cinque
Miglia, &e.4 Of the annual march of Abruzzo sheep and shepherds so ex-
cellent and graphic an account has already appeared in the Hon. K. Craven's
Excursions in the Northern Provinces of Naples, that any further description
would be unnecessary; yet I cannot help saying that the impression I receive
from these extraordinary caravans is quite other than gloom or melancholy.
To me the whole picture is one of pastoral and cheerful industry, and the
life of the Abruzzese Pecoraro is the beaw ideal of a shepherd’s existence. On
* Del Re, ii. 143. © Keppel Craven, ii. chap. ix.
> Guattani, 1. 89, @ Del Re, i, 255,
10
his native mountains his amusement is playing on the bagpipes or samboni,
whose long-drawn notes you may hear hour after hour in the summer days, an
accompaniment of indescribable romance to those poetical scenes. In the plains
of the Campagna you will observe him knitting stockings, or reading some book
of a devotional character. Altogether a more inoffensive and contented race
of beings I never met with, though they certainly are more sedate in their de-
portment than the noisy denizens of Naples.
One or two more general remarks regarding the provinces of the Abruzzi may
be allowed. - The great valleys in the heart of the Apennines are subject to
the scourge of earthquakes, and that most frequently and fatally. And the
inhabitants, for courtesy, simplicity, and hospitality, are a proverb among Italians
as well as strangers.
A short boundary question ensued on reaching the Neapolitan frontier at
Cavaliere, where, however, we were scarcely detained by some very civil offi-
cials, so on we cantered, fording a stream below Poggio Cinolfo, and soon
arriving at Carsoli, hidden from the plain in a little nook of its own. Giustiniani.
fierce,) to pluck and roast some pigeons, which eventually produced us no
bad supper:—for wine, alas! the horrible vino cotfo was a most unsatis-
factory substitute. As for our horses, fortunately for them, they were far
better lodged than their masters.
Still there was daylight left for a stroll; so we set off on foot to the
Lake, (hardly a mile distant,) through the quietest green lanes of turf, bor-
dered by poplars, and enclosing plantations of low vines. How fresh the
air! How deliciously calm the shallow, transparent wate
How grateful
the placid beauty of that lovely prospect, after all the heat of the day !
Numbers of horses and flocks of sheep were scattered over the low mea-
dows, near the water’s edge: herds of goats were slowly and sedately
winding their homeward way. It was not easy to quit the enjoyment of
so tranquil a scene; and we wandered till it was dark, by the still mirror,—
an enjoyment ill exchanged for a return to our strange abode, to which,
notwithstanding, the pigeons, boiled and roast, together with some good
macaroni, partly reconciled us.
There was no lock to our door. All night long, two or three frantic
hens kept tearing round the room, and would by no means ‘be expelled:
the afflicted chicken with a broken wing scrambled about the floor with-
out intermission: vermin of two species, (politely called B flats and F sharps,)
worried us beyond endurance: a perpetual chorus of pigeons thrilled over our
heads, and an accompaniment of pigs resounded from below. So we were
very glad when morning appeared.
Thus ended our first day and night in the Abruzzi.
July 28, 1843. By sunrise we had taken our coffee and bread, and
were on our horses; our day’s programme being to see the Emissario, and
then to coast the Lake, halting where choice or accident might determine,
making a short day for the sake of Irongray and Gridiron.
The Lago di Fucino, (Lacus Fucinus of the ancients,) which is sixty-two
or sixty-three miles from Rome, and ten from Tagliacozzo," is about thirty-
five miles in circumference, and is situated at a height of two thousand
Parisian feet above the level of the sea.” During the middle ages, it was
* Ant. i, 370. > Del Re, ii. 211.
18
more frequently called Lago di Celano, from its vicinity to that town, then
the principal in the Marsica. The ancient cities, once flourishing on its
borders, haye either utterly disappeared, or have left scanty traces whereby
to determine their position; and, at the present day, the most interesting
antiquity the immediate vicinity can boast of is the great Emissario, a pas-
sage or tunnel, about nineteen feet in height, nine broad, and nearly three
miles in length, constructed by the Emperor Claudius,* for the purpose of
carrying off the waters of the Lake (which frequently inundated the sur-
> Tt is needless to repeat the parti-
rounding country) into the river Liris.
culars of the great naval exhibition of a combat on the Lake, between
nineteen thousand gladiators, given by the Emperor at the opening of the
Emissario, (to complete which, thirty thousand slaves had laboured for eleven
years,) since the accounts given by Roman historians and modern antiquaries
are sufficiently explicit.°
After the time of Claudius, this great work was repaired by Hadrian
and Trajan; but with the fall of the Roman Empire it gradually decayed,
and the neglect occasioned by the successive incursions of barbarians went
far to destroy this magnificent monument of antiquity. In a.p. 1240 the
Emperor Frederic II. ordered the Emissario to be re-opened, and the work
was greatly advanced, when his death put a stop to its progress. King
Alfonso is supposed to have contemplated its recommencement; but the dis-
turbanees of his reign, or the change of viceroys, prevented its execution.
Towards the middle of the 16th century, the Colonna, who possessed most
of the surrounding territory, also commenced the work of restoration, but
desisted from want of funds. In 1786, King Ferdinand attempted to
repair the Emissario; but the wars of Europe, at the end of the last cen-
tury, were the cause of the failure of his design.¢ In 1826 the work of
repair was again resumed, and in 1831 was much advanced;° but since
that time decay has pursued her work of destruction unopposed. Thus,
through the long course of eighteen centuries, the object so long desired
has never been attained, nor does it seem very likely to be.
@ “ Non meno colla speranza della gloria che con quella dell’ utile.” Ant. i. 371.
> Guatt. ii. 50. © Sir R. CG. Hoare’s Classical Tour, vol. i. p. 352, de. Cramer, Ane. It. p. 328.
4 Afan di Rivera, 67-70. e K. Craven, vol. i. chap. iv.
19
No satisfactory cause appears to have been yet assigned for the great
increase of the Lake during some periods. Among the common people,
it is said’ to be a popular belief, that the waters rise and decrease every
seven years. The works of Antinori and Afan di Rivera contain much in-
formation on the subject, as well as minute details relative to the construction
of the Emissario.
In 1752, it is recorded, that the Lake of Fucino was so low, that
the foundations of the ancient Marruvium were seen, and several statues of
Claudius and Agrippina were discovered and sent to Caserta. In 1783
the Lake began to increase, and rose fifteen palmi? before the year 1787,
when it sunk to nearly its former level. From 1806 to 1816, the
most formidable inundation on record took place: the superficies of the
Lake was twenty palmi higher than at the greatest increase of 1780-7.
The peninsula of Ortucchio became an island; the water rose above the
altar of the church; and great destruction of property took place there, as
well as at Trasacco and Luco. Avezzano itself remained but twenty-
seven palmi above the Lake: and the year 1816 will always be remem-
bered as one of terror and distress to the inhabitants of the district.
From that time the Lake went down forty-seven palmi in the space of
nineteen years; so that land, which was under water in the years 1670,
1740, and 1780, stood thirteen palmi above it in 1835. At present,
the Lake is again on the increase, though very slowly.
The Lake of Fucino is not often frozen over; and the only recorded
years of its being so are 1167, 1226, 1595, 1683, and 1726.1 During
the winter it is the resort of innumerable wild-fowl, when its grand circle
of mountains is entirely covered with snow, which indeed remains till late
in the summer. Tench of large size, bream, and barbel, are the principal
production of its waters.*
By the pleasant lanes we traversed last evening, we arrived at the
Lake, but soon changed our road for a wofully stony one, under the moun-
* Antinori, i. 366. > A Palmo is 8? inches. © Afan di Rivera, p. 10.
4 Quattani, iii. 52 ; and Del Re, ii. 211.
© The lake and territory were at one time the property of the Dukes of Spoleto, and were given to
the Benedictines of M. Casino by Ildebrand Duke of Spoleto in 774. Ant. i. 370.
20
tain on its south side; this soon brought us to the celebrated Hmissario,
the position of which vast work is easily traced at a distance by mounds
of earth at intervals, between the hill through which it is carried, and
the Lake. There is no very great degree of the picturesque in its crumbling
walls of red brick-work; but the view from the hill-side, above the
higher part of this gigantic witness of Roman grandeur, fully atones for
the want of outward magnificence in its ruins. Here my companion left
me, to explore and measure the Emissario; while I, unapt to make
researches in the bowels of the damp earth, greatly preferred reclining in
the bright sunshine, untired with the solemn prospect below me.
The plain of Avezzano; the clear blue lake; Alba; and Velino, with its
fine peaks, alternately in bright light, or shaded by passing clouds; the far
snow-covered mountains beyond Solmona; the bare pass of Forca Carusa;
the precipitous crag of Celano,—all these at once, brilliant with the splendour
of Italian morning, formed a scene not to be slightly gazed at, or lightly
forgotten — the utter quiet of all around! the character of undisturbed beauty
which threw a spell of enchantment over the whole!
A herd of white goats blinking and sneezing lazily in the early sun;
their goatherd piping on a little reed; two or three large falcons soaring above
the Lake; the watchful cormorant sitting motionless on its shining surface ;
and a host of merry flies sporting in the fragrant air,—these were the only
signs of life in the very spot where the thrones of Claudius and his Empress
were placed on the crowd-blackened hill: a few distant fishing-boats dotted the
Lake where, eighteen centuries ago, the cries of combat rent the air, and the
glitter of contending galleys delighted the Roman multitude. (See Prarr IV.)
The solitary character of the place is most striking; no link between the
gay populous past,. and the lonely present; no work of any intermediate
century breaks its desolate and poetical feeling. I could willingly have lingered
there for hours, for I can recall no scene at once so impressive and beautiful.
When K. had finished his subterranean expedition, we mounted our horses
and went slowly on; the hills advancing to the Lake, and forming a high con-
tinuous wall on our right. Soon we reached Luco; first pausing at the
Church of S. Maria di Luco, which stands on the site of the ancient Angizia,*
a
Sir R. C, Hoare’s Classical Tour, vol. i, p.370. Cramer, vol. i. p. 330. Classical Museum, No. 5, p. 175.
TA AS Pear sel
My PP eT T
y
\
21
a fact placed beyond doubt by inscriptions found in the vicinity of the walls,
which, though now mostly beneath the surface of the Lake, can be traced
in their full extent. D. Fran. Ferrante is said by Guattani to have mea-
sured them, and their circumference is stated to be one mile and a third.*
The Church of Santa Maria, built on part of these ancient walls, is also
of great antiquity; having been given to the Benedictines by Doda, Contessa
de’ Marsi, a. p. 930.2 The Lucus, or Grove of Ancizia or Angitie, from which
the modern town derives its name, I looked for in vain, although Giustiniani
says it is “oggi chiamato Agnano;” but we were well pleased with the
beautiful view of the Lake, and the group of Alba and Velino, now dimi-
nished by distance, and yet forming a fine back-ground to the picturesque
church and walls. (See PuatE V.)
The present town of Luco contains about sixteen hundred inhabitants,°
nearly the whole of whom are supported by fishing in the Lake; the result of
which they carry by Capistrello and Canistro to Subiaco, and even to Rome.
The tench and barbel of Fucino are considered good; there are Scardafe also,
and Lasche, and queer little ugly crabs, and crawfish, and frogs: on the whole,
in my opinion, a very nasty collection; the Argentina being the only fish I
could ever eat without fear of choking. We passed through Luco, a lively
little town, but with no particular object worthy of remark. Its inhabitants
are considered by the Marsicans generally as being the finest race among them,
strong and healthy, though not handsome; indeed, neither the Abruzzo men
nor women can be considered as entitled to the reputation of great beauty,
compared with that found in other parts of Italy.
We remarked at every step the courtesy and pleasing cordiality of the
peasants, nearly every individual saluting us, both while passing through the
town, and afterwards from the vineyards by the roadside: most of them added
a benediction, “V’accompagna Maria!” or “Vi benedica Gesu!” or “ Faccia felice
* Guattani, iii. 61. The same author gives the following inscription as one discovered by D. F.
Ferrante :—
SEX PACCIUS
ET SEX PACCIUS . IA
QUINQ. MURUM . VET
CONSUMPTUM . A . SOLO . RES.
EX, P. P, ANGITIZ.
5 Corsig. Reg, Mar. i. 411. © Giustiniani.
22
viaggio!” at the least. This good-breeding and hospitable feeling throughout
the Ma:
2 territory are truly charming.
Keeping close to the Lake, through low vineyards, and fields gay with
golden grain, and merry with the bustle of harvest, we left the valley of
Collelungo on our right, and shortly reached Trasacco, the limit we had fixed
to our day’s sight-seeing. Indeed, beyond this town there is no further passage,
perpendicular rocks washed by the Lake barring all further progress; though I
have been told that about eight years ago the waters were low enough to
admit of a pedestrian reaching Ortucchio.
Trasacco,* the Transaqua of old records, now a small town of seven hun-
dred and fifty inhabitants,” seems to have no claim to antiquity of origin, be-
yond its having been built on the site of a palace of Claudius, afterwards
inhabited by Trajan. On the ruins of this palace San Rufino is said to have
erected the church which now bears his name: he was the first Bishop of the
Marsi, about a.p. 237, and suffered martyrdom under the Emperor Maxi-
minian,° together with San Cesidio, whose relics are great objects of venera-
tion to the Marsi of the present day. Whatever may have been the former
state of Trasacco, its present condition is sufficiently forlorn; though its church,
and several bits of Gothic architecture about the town, are well worth some
attention, which I regret I did not give to them.
On asking for a Locanda, we were directed to the first family of the town,
the De’ Gasparis, who had resided there for several centuries; to whose house
we went, and asked boldly for aid for ourselves and horses. This was cheer-
fully given, though we were strangers, and without any letter of recommen-
dation: Don Serafino—(everybody is called Don throughout the Neapolitan
states, a remnant of old Spanish customs,)—doing the honours of his establish-
ment, a small but decent dwelling, with great friendline
After a dull and hungry hour of converse with some younger sons of our
host, mostly on the subjects of hunting, &c., we were taken, with many apo-
logies for its being fast-day, into another room, where a repast was already on
the table. The father De’ Gasparis did not appear, but his six sons supplied
his place; and, to say truth, the hospitality of this worthy family was rather
* Sir R. ©. Hoare’s Classical Tour, i. 374. Mezzadri, Mem. > Giustiniani.
© Mezzadri, Mem. p. 19.
PPR mT
5 9
23
oppressive, for there was no end of dinner, and the way in which they con-
tinually loaded our plates seriously threatened apoplexy. The macaroni, a
word used in the Abruzzi to express long slices of paste, (usually in summer
dressed with Pomi d’oro or Tomatas,) was what we could least fight off; and,
since Benjamin’s days, nothing was ever seen like the supplies we groaned
under. “ Bisogna mangiare!” “é@ un piatto nazionale!” exclaimed the six bro-
thers if we paused in the work set before us. “ Non possiamo pit!” said we.
« Mangiate! mangiate! sempre mangiate ! » said they.
Fruit and excellent coffee having closed our refreshment, and rather relieved
us from the terror we felt at the continual exhortation “ mangiare,” K. and
I, spite of our friends’ earnest entreaties not to brave the sun, wandered forth
to explore the land. It was indeed too hot for any exertion, and we got
little for our pains, sheer rock and deep water soon ending our research; and
all we could do was to gaze at the grey Lake, for many a cloud was rising
westward, as we stood at the end of a fearfully hot slip of white pebbles,
bordered by a fringe of meditative green frogs, which went pop into the clas-
sic wave on the approach of our disturbing footsteps.
On our return to the town, Don Serafino, who is arch-priest of the Church
of S. Cesidio, lionized us all over it, and shewed us some of the Gothic win-
dows, &e. I have alluded to above. But what most pleased me at Trasacco
was a view near a curious but picturesque old tower, square at its base, and
round at top, over-looking all the wide Lake, with the distant Velino beyond.
Oderisius, Count of the Marsi, is said to have resided in “la torre anticha
di Trasacco” in the year 1050; but whether this were the building, I know
nots (See Prare VI.)
Our horses were brought forth, though we were much pressed to remain
until to-morrow: this, however, could not be. So, wishing a hearty farewell to
our friendly hosts, and promising to revisit them if possible, we set off towards
Avezzano with a very pleasant store of feelings called forth by such unaffected
courtesy.
Tt was waxing late, and fast the clouds were gathering. Back we gal-
loped, by the low vineyards, and past the fish-getting and harvest-collecting
Luco; but in vain. The storm spread dark and wide over mountain and water,
® Mezzadri, Mem. p. 104.—Porzia Febonia, mother of Gardinal Baronius, was born in Trasacco. Tb.
24
and burst fearfully on us as we reached the Emissario; whence, in drenching
torrents, we went at full speed down the long green lanes, the scenery
but half visible through a driving mist of hail and rain. Pretty well soaked
we were as we entered Avezzano, driving before us an immense troop of un-
happy donkeys, who had lost all command of their intellects at our first rapid
approach, and rushed wildly before us all the way home.
We found our landladies in a state of distress at the death of the before-
mentioned invalid chicken, who had committed suicide in a tub of water.
This did not, however, disturb our peace so much as the summons of an in-
spector of police to his office, on the ground of our passports not being in
order: but, as we considered them to be quite right, (setting aside the fact
of our being wet through, and that our supper was waiting,) we politely
requested him to come to us instead; which eventually he did, and signed
our passports on looking at some of our introductory letters. A distinct “Carta
di Passo” is, however, requisite for every separate province of the kingdom of
Naples for those who travel out of the high-road, — a circumstance they had
not informed us of at Carsdli; and, although we were not to blame for our
involuntary ignorance, the inspector was no less in the right.
After these events we retired to bed, and were charmed for another night
by the sportive proceedings of fowls, fleas, bugs, pigeons, and pigs, as before.
July 29, 1843. A lovely morning followed the tempestuous night; and
as we trotted at sunrise along the road from Avezzano to Celano,—bound to
no particular place, but at the mercy of the weather and our own caprices,—
everything seemed fresh and delightful. Groups of peasants journeying to the
market of Avezzano enlivened the way, each giving us a passing greeting.
Below us on the right were fields of uninterrupted cultivation—
dian corn, stretching to the Lake:
vines and In-
to the left the yellow plain of Alba, with
its town always in sight, until shut out by the hill of Paterno, on whose sides,
the sunniest and most fertile in all the Marsica, the olive, an unusual guest
in these parts, grows abundantly. Looking back, Serra di Sant? Antonio, the
loftiest of the range of mountains guarding the valley of the Liris, towers
over all the scene.
ne ee
; aise aa “ptpie ep ess !
25
APPROACH TO CELANO.
We approached Celano by stony lanes bordered with poplars, and more
like watercourses than roads; for the carriage-road ceases below Paterno.
Here all the scenery grows more wild and Swiss in character: vistas between
mountains displayed crags with towns perched thereon; and clouds, covering
many of the higher points, lent a mystery to what was beyond.
Celano,* once an important fortress-town, and the head of the Marsica
during the troublous times of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, is now
remarkable only for the extreme picturesqueness of its situation: it stands
below a wondrous bare precipice on a hill overlooking the whole of the Lake
of Fucino, though at a considerable distance from its edge; the space between
the town and the water being filled with meadows and vineyards, and watered
by the clearest streams. (See Prats VII.)
The history of Celano possesses a great deal of interest; and the life of
one of its Countesses, Covella, would alone furnish romance enough for a
volume. Its situation is said to be near that of Cliternum, but on what
authority I know not. A Count Tomaso of Celano appears to have been a
turbulent subject of the Emperor Frederic II., who, in 1223, took and
destroyed the town,’ exiling its inhabitants to Calabria, Sicily, and Malta;
whence they returned, and rebuilt their dwellings in the following reign.
There is a poetical tradition of a palace in the old town, containing a marble
staircase famous for curing anybody who was in love, by the simple remedy
of walking up to the top of it; an easier method of purchasing peace of
mind than the leap from the Lesbian promontory!
The Castle of Celano, a splendid fortress, and till recently in good pre-
servation, was built about 1450,° by one of the three husbands of the Countess
Covella; but whether Lionello Acclozamuro, or Giacomo Caldora, or Edward
4 Celano contains 3000 inhabitants, Giustin. > Cor. Reg. Mar. i. 467.
© Gor. Reg. Mar. i. 473.
26
Colonna, it is not easy to state, as historians disagree as to the order in which
the lady’s husbands succeeded each other.* But as, in 1430, a son of Lo-
renzo Colonna, Count of Alba and Celano, was made Duke of Amalfi by
Queen Giovanna ITI.,” it is most probable the castle is of Colonna origin.
Celano subsequently passed into the hands of the Orsini, who enjoyed it with
Amalfi until their possessions were bestowed, in 1461, by Ferdinand I. on the
Piccolomini,” who retained both until 1584, when Giovanni Piccolomini, the
last Duke of Amalfi, sold it.t How the Peretti obtained Celano, I do not
know; nor who ruled it after the disturbances of Massaniello in 1647, when the
town rebelled and was severely punished. The last owner of this beautiful
place died a few years since intestate; and the property is now in a decaying
state, while numerous heirs-at-law are contesting its possession.
The Sequenza, or Requiem, used at the burial of the dead in the Roman
Catholic Church, and known by its first words “Dies Ire, dies illa,” is said
to have been composed by the Beato Tomaso of Celano, who died a.p.
12534
The Dies Ire has been attributed to S. Buonaventura, to Card. Fr. Matteo
di Acquasparte, to Agostino Biella (as late as 1491), to S. Bernard, and to
Gregory the Great; so that there seems little certainty on the subject.
Others name Card. Latino Frangipane Malebranea Orsini as the author,
but state that it was first sung publicly by Tomaso of Celano. Febbonius,
quoted by Corsignani, says that the original sketch or skeleton of the Dies
Tre was found in a box of Tomaso di Celano Finally, P. Bartolomeo
Pisano says,
“Locum de Ceelano, de quo fuit Thomas qui mandato Apostolos scripsit
sermone polito Legendam primam Beati Francisci, et prosam de Mortuis, que
cantatur in Missa, scilicet ‘Dies Ire, dieg illa.’”*
We gained the summit of the hill on which the town is placed, and held
a council as to our further proceedings as soon as we reached the market-
place or Piazza of Celano, where, itself a picture, we lingered to admire the
view. We decided on going on to Solmona; and, having voted the rock above
* Summonte, Hist. Nap. iii. 401. Cors. > Camera Amalfi, 189. * Cam. Amal. 190.
# Cam. Amal. 199. © Cors. i. 493. * His bones were removed to Tagliacozzo in 1530.
5 Cor. Reg. Mar. ii. 173. » Pp. Bar. Pisano Confor. 8. Francis, ii. 110.
“yurde PP meaT T
@ Td
w
N
‘A DI CELANO
neighbour, we went down on the op-
Celano a most suspicious and comfortle
posite side of the hill, and, regaining the level of the Lake, bent our way to-
wards the Forea Carusa. How infinitely grand was the old turreted castle
of the ancient Counts, sheltering its clustered dependencies of convents,
churches, and palazzi! (See PLaTE VIII.)
The Forea Carusa is a pass over the mountains on the north-east side
of the Lake of Fucino; and as we turned our backs on its beautiful
waters, and ascended a long and barren hill, by a stony road, and in the face
of a very cold wind, we cast’ many a look of regret over the bright scenes
we had left, the fertile plain of Avezzano, and the far crags beyond Tra-
sacco. For an hour, nothing could be less interesting than the narrow
lain, walled in by low hills,—scattered flocks of sheep, guarded by angry
dogs, and stunted shrubs at intervals, the only objects of attention ; and, as
Macintoshes and handkerchiefs were in great request, we were glad to be
the north side of the pass, leading down to the valleys of Gagliano and
Goriano, whence it was most refreshing to gaze on a picture full of all
kinds of mountain-grandeur, wood, valley, towns, snowy peaks, and clouds
veiling the highest range of all.
By long winding paths we descended to Goriano Siculi, (or Goriano
Sicco,") a. little town containing seven hundred inhabitants. It stands in a
* Giustiniani.
28
tranquil valley, where we were glad to stable our horses, and refresh our-
selves on raw ham, bread, and an omelette, at a little Osteria. No one,
until after much travelling in Italy, can be aware of the universality of
omelettes: omelettes plain, with tomatas, with artichokes, or with garlic ;
not a bad dish, if well contrived, but rather tiresome by over-repetition.
Of Goriano Siculi little is to be said, but that its church-tower was
rather awry from the effects of a recent thunderbolt; there is, however, a
most Poussin-like view of the town from the hill beyond it, which, after
an hour’s rest, we began to ascend by steep windings.
At the summit, a vast and new scene was opened to us. We had passed
out of the land of the Mar
5 and were entering that of the ancient
Peligni, separated from their neighbours of old by high mountain-walls, over
which the stupendous Maiella reigned pre-eminent. A beautiful place,
indeed, is the vale or plain of Solmona, twelve Neapolitan miles in length,
and three or four wide;* almost every spot in it cultivated with vines, and
corn, olives, and garden-fruit, for which, especially melons, the district is
famous. Solmona, the Sulmo of antiquity, stands at one of the. extremi-
* Sci. Mazzella.
‘TRL PP Tes] 7
q
29
ties of the vale; Corfinium, or Pentima, at the other: the towns of Petto-
rano, Bugnara, Introdacqua, Frezza, R. Casale, S. Vittorino, Rajano, and
Pratola, are also within its limits.
All these, gleaming and sparkling from the bosom of this beautiful vale,
were before us, as we went down the long descent, and through the little
town of Rajano, and along a grass road between continual vineyards, crossed
by numerous streams, which are conducted into every part of the valley,
from the river Sagittaria, for the purposes of irrigation. Thus at length
we reached Solmona (See Prats IX.), which stands on an elevated ridge,
between two small rivers, the courses of which are marked by thick
poplars.
A ruined church, a rent wall, a leaning house, or a tower out of draw-
ing, speak of the earthquakes which have so frequently desolated this inter-
esting spot, well known as the birth-place of Ovid, and still, after many
sieges and other calamitous vicissitudes, a fine city. We admired its well-
paved streets and numerous shops, (half of which seemed confectioners’, for
the confectionery of Solmona is famous all over Italy,) its cafés, palazzi, and
churches, as we passed along the principal thoroughfare, and made our way
to the great deserted convent, or hospital, now used as the inn. The inte-
rior, however, of that refuge was so uninviting, that we r
olved to go on
eight or nine miles further to Popoli, only resting our horses for an hour; a
duty which we accomplished for them in a vast stable, full of mules, the
jingling of whose bells was distracting: meanwhile, we rambled over the city,
and indulged in Limonata at various cafés.
There are many objects of interest in Solmona: the Market-place with its
picturesque aqueduct, overlooked by a beautiful Gothic arch, the remains of
a Church which fell in the last century; the great Church of Sant’ Annunziata;
the Cathedral of San Pamfilo; and several Gothic doors and windows in
various parts of the city. A statue of Ovid, a very poor one, adorns the
main street. On Saturday the number of costume-wearing market-women
flocking to Solmona, the Sottintendenza or chief town of the district, are very
amusing. Generally speaking, there is but little variety or character of dress
throughout the Abruzzi provinces: the peasants are usually clad in dark-blue
or red woollen clothes, both male and female; and the latter, excepting in a
9
5)
few places, wear the handkerchief on the head in a slovenly manner, very
different from the neat head-dress near Rome.* To make amends, however,
we were not annoyed by begging, and on our route hitherto had seen but
little poverty. (See PrarE X.)
The history of Solmona” is a tissue of evils,—war, famine, plague, and
earthquake; and, that it now exists at all, is a matter of wonder. In 1455
and 1456 it was nearly destroyed by earthquake, and on the 3rd of Novem-
ber, 1706, fell almost entirely from the same cause, numbers of its inhabitants
being killed. Pope Paul V. granted the principality of Solmona to his
nephew, Camillo Borghese; but the present Borghesi have no longer any
ce
possessions among the Peligni.
The sun was low in the west ere we remounted our horses. A good
carriage-road runs through the valley at the foot of the mountain of the
Morrone, which bears on its barren sides the cell where S. Pietro del
Morrone, afterwards Pope Celestino V. lived for so many years. Below the
solitary hermitage is the Monastery of S. Spirito di Solmona, founded by Pope
* Two villages, Introdacqua and Pettorano, within a short distance of Solmona, may be particularly
excepted. The linen cloth forming the head-dress is worn of great length ; and there are other little
distinctions of costume.
> Mem. Sto. della Citt& di Solmona. © Pachichelli, iii. 19.
VNOWTIOS
WL Perey |
31
Celestino V., but now used as a poor-house for the three Abruzzi. It is a
picturesque edifice, some distance from the high-road; and its tall Campanile
is seen all over the Pianura of Solmona.
Rienzi, the last of the Tribunes, is said to have fled, disguised as a monk,
from Rome to the convent of §. Spirito; and the monastery in the plain of
Solmona is pointed out as his retreat: though the anonymous author of his
ife clearly indicates the cell in the Maiella, also known as §. Spirito, as his
refuge, which it indeed more probably would be than the sumptuous estab-
ishment in the valley. “Per la paura de li potenti di Roma, gid come frati-
cello, giacendo per la montagna di Maiella con romiti e persone di penitenza.” *
The repetition of the well-known history of Pope Celestino V. may be
forgiven, as an illustration of one of the scenes of his life. The Hermit of
the Morrone, Pietro di Isernia, was born in 1215, and resided in the cell
immediately above the monastery of S. Spirito until 1239, when, the repute of
his sanctity having attracted many visitors to his solitude, he retired to a cave
among the rocks of the higher parts of the Maiella until 1294; when, the
Papal throne having remained vacant from the death of Pope Nicholas TV. in
1292, Pietro was chosen to fill his place, and was crowned in the church of
S. Maria di Collemaggio in Aquila, 29th of August, 1294, when no less
than two hundred thousand persons are said to have been present.
On the 12th of December of the same year he publicly renounced the
dignities which a long life of solitude iad ill-fitted him for bearing, and
retired once more to his hermit’s cell of the Morrone. Hence, however, he
was taken by the orders of Pope Boniface VII. (Caetani), and shut up in
the castle of Fumone, above Anagni, where he died, May 19th, 1296.” His
bones were brought from Ferentino to Aquila in 327
Beyond 8. Spirito we passed on our right a strange inconvenient-looking
town, Rocea Casale, a pyramid of houses crowned by an old castle, surprisingly
piled up against the mountain-side ; and, further on, we turned into the narrow-
ing valley by which the Pescara flows to the sea. Shortly after dark we
reached Popoli, (nine miles from Solmona,) a bustling, narrow-streeted, dirty
a V. di Cola di Rienzi, ii. 258.
» Vita di S. P. Celestin Papa V. Cirillo. © Cirillo, 19.
4 According to Pachichelli (iii. 19) the nail by which he was murdered, half a palm in length, was
shown in one of the chapels of the Convent of 8. Spirito.
32
town, containing 3800 inhabitants, situated at the junction of the three roads
leading to Aquila, Solmona, and Chieti, and therefore called the key of the
three Abruzzi. Happily it contained an inn, where we found no very bad
accommodation.
30th July, 1843. Leaving Gridiron and Tron-gray to a day’s peaceful pos-
session of a good stable, we set out early on a visit to the remains of ancient
Corfinium, the once-celebrated capital of the Peligni, and the queen of the
allies against Rome during the Marsic, or Social, war. We strolled to the
little town of Pentima, about two miles from Popoli, a place of no preten-
sion either to interest or beauty: beyond it is an elevated plain, overlooking
the whole of the valley of Solmona; and here antiquaries place the site of
Corfinium. Of that great city, little now remains: foundations of brickwork;
walls of opus reticulatum peeping above the soil; some traces of aqueducts ;
and two or three high masses of ruin, supposed to be portions of a temple.
Perhaps the earthquakes in the last century may have completed the work of
desolation; since Alberti, in 1596, writes, “S% veggono molte rovine di grant?
edifici ;’ and other authors speak as if there had been more witnesses of past
grandeur than exist at present. The Church of San Pelino (a building worth
the attention of architects, of which the only notice I can find relates to its
restoration by a Bishop Giovanni in 1081,)° stands by the side of these ruins,
and, together, they form a group whose grand and solitary character cannot
fail to strike the traveller. (See Prare XI.) Corfinium may have existed
as a name until the tenth century ;* but during the Lombards, and their
county or Gastaldato of Balva, it seems to have disappeared. - We lingered
long by these classic remains, and returned by the hot valley of the Sagit-
taria, whose banks were blackened by droves of recumbent pigs, to our abode
at Popoli.
July 31st, 1843. We set off by day-break, in order that we might reach
Chieti (the capital of Abruzzo Citeriore, distant twenty-one miles from Popoli,)
before the heat of the day; a project which we were not to execute. We
® Cramer, i. ® Fr. L. Alberti, p. 256,
© Memorie Storiche de’ Peligni. 1D. E. di Mattei. “ Del Re.
TYP PPT y
Tae
2
33
went by the side of the Pescara (the ancient Aternus); from above which
there is rather a fine view of Popoli, over-looked by the ruins of the old
Castle of the Cantelmi. Thence our road led through a wild and gloomy
pass, until we came to the fertile ground opening to the Adriatic: here our
respectable steed Trongray cast a shoe, from which ill-fortune we were obliged
to cross the Pescara to Tor di Passere, a small and uninteresting town, where
we found a blacksmith.
Close to the river stand the remains of the celebrated Monastery of San
Clemente, founded by the Emperor Louis VIII. in the ninth century. There
is much worth inspection in this curious old building: but our haste did not
allow of lingering; and we cared the less for the disappointment, as I felt
sure, at that time, of returning to the spot.
Tor di Passere is uninteresting in the extreme, and will only live in our me-
mory from the exceeding fuss the whole police of the town made on our account.
I had wandered round it to while away the time during which our horse was
being shod, when a hue and cry was raised which would astonish any one
who did not know the distrust with which strangers, who enter the provinces
of Teramo or Abruzzo Ulteriore Primo, are looked upon. Having no Carta
di Passo for this division, we were stopped forthwith, and only allowed to
proceed on showing the letters we bore, and on promising to escape from the
tabooed territory as soon as we could. We re-crossed the Pescara, therefore,
and were once more on the high-road to Chieti; but the great heat of the
day, combined with the little interest possessed by the scenery, made the
journey far from a pleasant one. Nor did the high clay ridge, on which
Chieti stood afar off, offer any recompense in perspective.
Long indeed it was before we arrived at the gates of the capital of
Abruzzo Citeriore, by apparently endless windings of monotonous, though good,
carriage-road: the ascent to this ancient city, ( formerly Teate of the Marru-
cini,*) is truly “wn vero Calvario.” The view from the summit of the hill
is extensive and magnificent in the extreme; yet, excepting perhaps the
group of mountains about the Gran Sasso,—that which terminates the fine chain
bounding the plain to the right,—the whole scene has little attraction for a
landseape-painter, from its extreme panoramic vastness. To the left, the
@ Cramer, Anc. It, i. 340.
2
o
huge Maiella stands almost alone; and beyond, plains of undulating clay ridges,
clad with vineyards, and spotted with countless towns and villages, stretch
southward as far as eye can reach, and eastward to the broad blue Adriatic.
Chieti is a large bustling city, containing about fourteen thousand inhabit-
ants, often called “7/ Napoli det tre Abruz from its liveliness and popula-
tion. The best accounts of its buildings, &c. may be found in the Hon. K.
Craven’s Tour in the Abruzzi; and in a very interesting little work, containing
much information about the whole province, (especially its botanical produc-
tions,) “Relazione del Viaggio fatto in alcuni luoghi di Abruzzo Citeriore; dal
Cay. Michele Tenore:” a book no one should visit Chieti without procuring.
We found an inn, the Aquila d’Oro, a strange straggling place, with one im-
mense bed-room containing six beds; a common occurrence in these parts of
Italy, where they have no idea of any one being so fastidious as to dislike
sharing a sleeping-room with chance passengers. What is worse, they will
not let you pay for the whole, which one would willingly do; for that, say
they, would be unjust to after-comers, who have a right to hire unoccupied
beds. Fortunately, we were the only strangers in the Locanda, so we slept in
our six beds accordingly; a repose we were not sorry to have after an early dinner.
Our evening passed in procuring food for our horses, (no very easy
matter,) and in wandering about the city, which, after all, had no great charms
for us; and we left the promenade on the ramparts, thinking, that were we _
never to see Chieti again, we should not be exceedingly sorry. We also
delivered a letter of introduction to the Marchese San Giovanni, Intendente
of the province, a very agreeable person; who, at our request, procured a
letter for us to an inhabitant of Civita di Penna, where we intended to halt
the following night.
August Ist, 1843. K., wishing to see Pescara, set off at sun-rise in a
caratella; but I, having a mania for walking, followed on foot; a choice I re-
pented of before reaching the end of eight long miles on a dusty uninterest-
ing road. Pescara, a most dull little town, stands at the mouth of its
namesake river; and, though now so mean a place, was formerly a fortress
of importance, and is supposed to stand on the site of the ancient Aternum®
* Cramer, Anc. It. i. 338. Much information concerning the present state of its river, Pes
be gained from a pamphlet entitled “ La Nayigazione della Pescara, di Giu. Liberatore.”
35
of the Vestini. Its modern associations of interest may be summed up
shortly: it recalls the death of the celebrated commander Sforza, who was
drowned while crossing the river in 1423; and it gave the title of Marchese
di Pescara to D’Avalos, the husband of Vittoria Colonna.
After bathing in the Adriatic, and deciding—on having explored its envi-
rons —that Pescara was to us utterly unprofitable, saving a distant view of
the Gran Sasso, in combination with its long walls, and its flat, sandy fore-
ground, we returned in our caratella to Chieti; and that city, after a dinner
and siesta at mezzodi, we left with but little regret early in the after-
noon ; first purchasing some capital straw-hats, which they make better in the
province of Teramo than anywhere else.
Once more down the tiresome hill of Chieti, and to the banks of the
broad Pescara, over which we passed in a ferry-boat, and took our course
by rather indistinct tracks towards the Gran Sasso, in the vicinity of which
great mountain stands Civita di Penna. All the country we passed is a
weary monotony of undulations: a path leads up a long clay hill sprinkled
with vines and a few trees, and at its top you hail the distant Gran S
and dream you may go on plain ground for an hour or so; when, lo! down
you drop into a valley, with a dawdling stream or perhaps the dry bed of
a torrent at its bottom, a cottage or two overlooking its winding way;
havine overcome all of which, you commence climbing path No. 2, up a
Ss > y ‘
clay hill exactly resembling No. 1; and this occurs so perpetually, and
without a shade of variety, that a journey in the neighbourhood of Chieti
is of a most tread-mill nature. At every ascent the Gran Sasso seems to
stand on a plain, though these tantalizing ridges and ravines prevent your
having any view but that from the top of each successive hill. All around
one sees towns, though none apparently of great beauty; and we passed
Pianello and Loretto, both of which, though possessing little picturesqueness
in themselves, stand finely perched on their several ridges, and rejoice in
a grand back-ground of the Monte Corno. At last, nearly at sunset, we
arrived at Civitd di Penna, the ancient Pinna of the Vestini,* which stands
on an eminence, rising below the mountain-ridge, called, if I remember
rightly, Siella: part of the chain whose most elevated point is the Gran
® Oramer, Ane. It. i. 336.
|
36
Sasso or Monte Corno. The modern town (I believe there are few, if any,
vestiges of the old one) is eminently beautiful, built on two peaks or sum-
mits of a hill, and containing many good edifices: the two principal streets
are very steep, but well paved with brick. It contains eight thousand in-
habitants. (See Pxrate XII.)
In vain, on entering the town, we enquired for a Locanda, an Osteria,
a stable: all Citta di Penna seemed guiltless of such common-place conve-
niences. Nor were we at all better off, when, sending our introductory
letter, we received an answer, that such a house would shelter us, and such
a stable our horses; a reception so different to that afforded us by our Mar-
sican friends, that we were not a little surprised. And, having sought the
stable, it was so cold and damp, that one of our horses was instantly taken
ill; and, as we could not persuade anybody to bring in food for them, we
adjourned once more to the market-place, where we waited long, in vain, for
any assistance :—this man had a stable, but had lost the key; another had
some hay, but was gone to a neighbouring town:—and thus, these and other
equally apropos suggestions were all we had to amuse us till the arrival of
Don Andrea Giardini, the Mayor or Syndic of the town, to whom mean-
while I had applied.
Charming little Syndic of Syndics! Did you not instantly bring forth
your own groom, open your stables, and cause the unlucky Gridiron and Iron-
gray to be refreshed forthwith? And shall we not always remember you
with a hearty good-will—the sole oasis in that barren haunt of apathy and
inhospitality ?
It was now, however, too late in the evening to change the nasty
lodgings we had gone to on the recommendation of our new acquaintance;
and most particularly filthy ones they were. Sleep, from the little we saw
of our room, was not to be expected; and, to add to our sorrows, the
police declared our passports out of all order, (not being Carte di Passo for
the province,) although signed by the Governor of Chieti himself: so we
had the choice given us of remaining at Citta di Penna till an express could
be received from Chieti at Citta Sant’ Angelo, the Capoluogo of the district,
or of going back to Chieti ourselves. We chose the former alternative.
“WY PP tes] 7
is)
“N
August 2, 1843. Prisoners as we were, we resolved on changing our
obnoxious abode; and our good genius the Syndie accordingly found us
charming lodgings at the house of Signor Michelloni, a caffetiere, whose
rooms and beds were unexceptionable. This was something: but, indignant
with Citta di Penna in general, and our acquaintances of last night in par-
ticular, we retired to an adjacent convent, and passed the morning in ram-
bling over its gardens, and sitting in a fig-tree, forming plans for the mor-
row. A surprising dinner at midday augmented our esteem for the Syndic
and Signor Michelloni, who supplied us most profusely with liqueurs, Rosolio, &e.,
for the manufacture of which Citta di Penna is renowned.
The Doctor of the town also sent his card, and an immense batter-pud-
ding; by way, we supposed, (and not a bad way either,) of testifying his
regret at our last night’s reception.
Towards evening we began our journey to Citta Sant’ Angelo, with the
Syndie’s groom as guide; a route of which I will only say, that it was a
counterpart of that tread-mill of hill and hollow by which we had been
victimized in our ride from Chieti. The hills were full of chasms and cracks;
hideous clay ridges, ungraced by a shrub, or even a rock, or a pebble; and
the hollows contained rivers; after fording the last of which, the moon rose
and lighted us on, by tedious mule-tracks, to Citta Sant? Angelo, (supposed the
ancient Angulus* of the Vestini,) where we arrived when all men were fast
asleep. Not having had any rest during the previous night, we were pretty
well tired, and glad to exchange the continual feeling of being about to fall
off our horses down an unknown depth, for that of reposing in the kitchen
of an Osteria, whose good-natured Oste we knocked up. Moreover, K. disco-
vered some very good-looking sausages: so we had them cooked, and made a
very comfortable supper by the aid of whiskey and water, the wine being
undrinkable.
August 8, 18438. Very early we waited on Don Bernardo Ranaldi, who
had just received an express from Chieti, stating our respectability, and en-
os
joining him to let us go wherever and do whatever we pleased — tidin
* Cramer, Anc, It, i. 336.
38
which greatly enlivened us. The Sub-governor also gave us some excellent
coffee, and invited us to his country-house; a politeness we were obliged to
decline, as directly after our interview we recommenced our travels on the
treadmill, and were at Signor Michelloni’s once more before noon.
We had resolved to cross the high mountain-ridge separating the provinces
of Teramo and Aquila, but did not exactly know the best course to take, as
we had not a map: but somebody haying suggested that we might pass imme-
diately above Citta di Penna, and sleep at Villa Santa Lucia, a small village,
going on the next day to Aquila, we agreed to do so; and, with a presenti-
ment of the barrenness awaiting us in those remote places, we did unusual
justice to Signor Michelloni’s good cheer before we started. We wished our
friend the Syndie good-bye with regret, but had none for Citta di Penna,
which we left about two o’clock in the afternoon, rather gladly than otherwise.
We went straight up the face of the mountain to a little village, Monte-
vello, whence the view was vast and map-like, but by no means beautiful.
A long and steep ascent succeeded, which we climbed on foot gaily enough,
or the air was fresh at that great height. But alas for poor Gridiron! who
ell suddenly lame from some unknown cause, and sadly destroyed my pleasure
by his uneasy progress thenceforward.
After a great toil to the summit, we struck into dark paths through wide
beech forests broken by gray rocks, whence, at intervals, the view of the
Gran Sasso, rising above an unbroken distance of wood, was infinitely grand.
At length, long after the great prospect towards the Adriatic had been fairly
shut out, we opened on a broad green valley encircled by rocky hills, and full
of cattle of all kinds. It was near sunset; and yet two peasants, whom we
met, declared that Villa Santa Lucia was “Jontano assai,” and there was not
any habitation nearer.
There was no remedy: we passed over the lonely, quiet Pianura, and pro-
ceeded to scale its boundary, a high and weary ridge of rock,—sore work for
poor old Gridiron. At its summit, how different a view surprised us! that
to the north had appeared as a vast plain, but tangled and cut up into a
thousand gutter-like divisions: here, we came on a wild chaos of mountain-
tops, ridge above ridge, peak above peak: the high line of the Marsic moun-
tains, the noble Velino, an interminable perspective of Apennines—all seemed
39
below our feet; a dark purple world, still and solemn, outlined with the
utmost delicacy against the clear sky, where the daylight yet lingered along
an horizon of golden red. These unexpected effects of beauty constitute one
of the chief charms of such methodless rambles as ours.
Immensely below us was the deep valley to which our course was to be
directed ; and there, about the second hour of the night,* we arrived well tired
with our long day’s journey. Villa Santa Lucia, a poor village, but our
home for the night, did not look especially inviting; neither did the house of
Don Domenico Nunzio, to whose care we had been recommended by our
anonymous friend at Citta di Penna.
Yet this, though dark and small, was not nearly so unpleasant an abode
as our first at Citta di Penna, inasmuch as the poor people who received us
here offered all they had with the greatest cheerfulne nor were the rooms
so irretrievably filthy. But what a stable! How often, on opening the
door, did startled hens dash wildly against the candle and leave us in dark-
ness! How often, when we had effected an entrance, did misguided calves,
and eccentric goats, pigs, and asses, rush against us to our utter discomfort !
And, haying settled our steeds, how queer a place was shewn us for our
supper and sleeping-room! a sort of granary, holding one diminutive bed,
te) f=)
and a table to match; all the rest of the space being choked up with
ig
sacks, barrels, baskets, hams, &c. &e. But the apologies made for all these
inconveniences were profuse, and attention was shewn us far more than could
have been expected: so we congratulated ourselves on being once more in
the province of Aquila, whose bounds are defined by the mountain-wall we
had so recently climbed.
Having tossed up who should have the bed, it fell fo me, and directly
afterwards fell wader me, because it had but three legs, and one of those but
feeble. As for K., he took up his quarters upon the small table, and we
talked and slept as much as we might, till day broke;
Choe! choc! choe! pervaded the room, and forthwith numbers of little chan-
ticleers rushed from all corners, and, mounting the table, were astonished to
find their accustomed crowing-place already occupied.
and
* Ave Maria, or the termination of the day, is always one half-hour after sunset throughout Italy
the succeeding hours are called one, two, three, &c. of the night.
when a sound of
40
| | August 4, 1848. A particularly horrid day, with no one redeeming
quality, beauty, or novelty, to note down as a white mark in our journal:
| a mud-coloured sirocco atmosphere, whereby one felt as if in an air-pump;
a burning sun to boot, and a long toil over a most wearisome country!
A rocky pass took us from the uninteresting valley of Villa Santa Lucia to
the vicinity of Rocca Calascio, (a little cluster of dwellings, four thousand
| eight hundred Paris feet* above the level of the sea,) and thence through
| Calascio, a long straggling town, also on a mountain-ridge of great elevation,
, ? fo} foto} co) ? co} fo}
along whose steep sides of barren ugliness we continued to toil ad infinitum,
till we were half blind from scorching heat and dulness. As for me, I
walked all day, not being able to keep awake on my horse.
At Rocca San Stefano, a helpless-looking town, sticking against a mourn-
fully bare hill-side, some respectable people hailed us from a large house
| near the road, and insisted on our refreshing ourselves and horses; so I
| should not have said that the day was destitute of its white mark. These
| good people regaled us with biscuits and Zmonata, and pressed us very much
to stay; but we preferred spinning out our disagreeable thread all at once:
HH so down we went, and up and down again, all hideousness and sirocco, to
| Barisciano, whence, to make bad worse, we had to follow the high-road to
| Aquila, twelve or fourteen miles of dust, and ineffable stupidity. Indeed,
I was mightily disappointed in the Valley of Aquila, which, although full of
Hil cultivation, (more particularly of almond-trees,) is of so great a width as to
Billi! be more like a plain; and its sides are enclosed by bleak, bare mountains,
not very striking in form, though grand from their loftiness. Aquila itself,
once so important a city, and yet holding its place as capital of the pro-
a vince of Abruzzo Ulteriore Secondo, stands on an eminence commanding the
whole of the valley, and allowing a passage only for the river Aterno be-
| | tween its base and the mountains on one side. To this hill you ascend
by slow windings; and, when the city was in its palmy days, it must have
had an imposing appearance. Even now, the Castle overlooking all, the
Cupola of San Bernardino, with various Campanili and Palazzi of a delicate-
coloured stone, throw an air of magnificence over the first approach.
* Del Re, vol. ii, p. 163.
4]
It would be difficult to enter the precincts of Aquila without feelings
of interest and curic The scene of factious dissension during the times
of Guelph and Ghibelline, and for centuries, one of the most important
cities in southern Italy, “# l’ Aquila,” says Porzio,* who wrote in the fif-
teenth century, “citta degli Abru: Sra altissimi monti posta, e dalle
rovine de luoghi convicini tanto cresciuta, che di uomini, di armi, e di richezze
era la prima riputata dopo Napoli.” The cold look of desertion in its well-
paved streets struck us forcibly as we passed through them; and we
acknowledged that its title, “ la Roma degli Abruzzi,” was well merited by
its character of departed grandeur,—its fine palaces, gloomy and uninhabited ;
its splendid convents and churches, and its extensive walls enclosing vine-
yards where once were flourishing quarters of the town. A scanty population,
and the total absence of bustle in so large a place, increased its resem-
blance to the eternal city; and this melancholy magnificence is well sup-
ported by the harsh line of mountains, unadorned with vegetation, that
bounds the view on every side. Aquila, however, can boast of one advan-
tage unknown to its more prosperous fellow-city Chieti, namely, a really good
inn: “ Il Sole” might do credit to any place in southern Europe, and in its
spacious chambers we were right glad to repose.
Most authorities agree that Aquila was founded by Conrad in 1254:
some antiquarians make the Emperor Frederic II. its first originator; while
g H
others affirm it to have been an existing city in the time of the Lom-
bards, and only enlarged by Frederic.? All agree that the union of the
fugitive population of the ancient cities of Amiternum, Forcona, Foruli, &c.
whose sites are in its immediate neighbourhood, was the first cause of the
rise of the modern city: nor does the well-established fact of Conrad
having granted it privileges, &c. at all preclude its having had an existence
long previously. Its name is most frequently supposed to be an allusion
to the Imperial Eagle, under whose support it was first brought into power,
as a check to the Roman Pontiffs, on the very borders of their dominions.
In spite of its Ghibelline origin, Aquila seems early to have become a
partisan of the opposite faction; and it was destroyed by Manfred, and set up
again by the Popes accordingly.
* Porzio, Cong. Baroni, p. 60. > Giustiniani, Diz.
42
It was stedfast to King Charles I. of Anjou during, and long after, the
endeavour of Corradino to regain the kingdom; yet we read* of its having
formed itself into a republic under one Nicola dell’ Isola about 1281, which
state of things seems to have continued until Nicola was poisoned by some
of the nobles, whose oppression he had controlled. Nicola dell’ Isola seems
o have been an extraordinary man; for two envoys, sent by King Charles
II. (one his own son) to punish the offender, returned to Naples with a full
conviction of the integrity of his conduct: a persuasion, however, which may
iave been not a little enforced by the champion of Aquila himself at the
1ead of his six thousand men.
The city was constantly torn by internal dissensions during the interregnum
d fo} fo}
of the Popes, and the absence of Charles II. in 1292; but peace and order
reigned, for once, during the short time that Pope Celestine V. wore the tiara,
during which he resided in Aquila. (See page 31.) The early part of the reign
of Robert I. was also a period of comparative quiet, always excepting the
burnings and killings which occupied the Aquilani among themselves. . In 1299
and 1315, the city is recorded to have been almost totally destroyed by earth-
quakes; and as soon as it was rebuilt, with greater splendour and strength, the
unquiet Aquilani were again at their old work of destruction among the rival
towns near them, for which delinquencies heavy fines were imposed upon them.
In 1310 and 1327, King Robert resided in Aquila in great state and magni-
ficence, receiving ambassadors, &c.?
The family of the Camponeschi seem at this time to have possessed the
chief power in the city ; and pages full of contention and turbulence, through
which their name stands prominent, may be read in Bernardino Cirillo’s annals
of his native place. “ in Aquila,” says Porzio,’ “la famiglia de’ Cam-
poneschi, potente tanto che quasi ne avea preso il Principato: e quando i Re di
Napoli volevano dalla cittd alcuna cosa ottenere, era loro il mestiere gquadaqnar
prima t Camponeschi.” Throughout the long reign of Giovanna I. the history
of Aquila is little but a variety of horrors. After the murder of her husband
Andrea, the factions of the Queen (who had married Louis of Taranto), and
of Louis of Hungary, her late husband’s brother, divided the whole kingdom ;
and Aquila was besieged by Carlo of Durazzo for two months, during which
Cirillo, p. 13. P MWoCE eh ale © Porzio, p. 60.
43
it was held out by Lalle Camponeschi for Louis. On the flight of the
Queen from Italy, Lalle was made Grand Chamberlain of the whole kingdom
by Louis, and must have been a man of no mean talent; for on the return
of Giovanna, and the consequent change of fortune which befell the adherents
of Louis of Hungary, Lalle Camponeschi not only contrived to retain his great
influence, but his office at the Neapolitan Court.* | Meanwhile the terrible
plague and famine of 1348
evastated Aquila, and swept off one-third of its
inhabitants; and in the following year so fatal an earthquake destroyed the
city, that the remaining popul
to rebuild it by the all-power
these events, being stabbed in
ation deserted its ruins, and were only persuaded
ful Lialle Camponeschi, who did not long survive
1854” by a follower of Filippo of Taranto, then
Governor of the Abruzzi for Giovanna. 2)
In 1355 the city was placed under
an interdict by Innocent VI. for rebellion; and one grows weary of reading of
the contentions of two Kings and two Popes, the Durazzo and Anjou factions,
In 1864 another
the inhabitants of Aquila ;
interdicts, excommunications and rebellions, and earthquakes.
pestilence carried off more than ten thousand of
and its history, till the murder of Giovanna T. in 1381, and through the
remainder of the fourteenth century, is one tissue of rebellion and internal
discord, in which the Camponeschi seem, as usual, to have been the principal
actors.
The Aquilani declared for Queen Giovanna II. on her deposition by Pope
Martin V. in 1419, and, in consequence, suffered a siege of thirteen months
from the partisans of Louis III. of Anjou; during which the city held out
yeneath the
After the death of Giovanna IL., until 1441, when Alfonso
against the celebrated leader, Braccio Fortone, who was killed
walls in 1424.
conquered the whole of the kingdom, and when there was a short interval of
quiet, discord seems to have claimed Aquila as her favourite abode. Rebel-
lions in 1460, the war of the Barons in 1484, the expedition of Charles VIII.
of France (for whom the Aquilani openly declared), are among the principal
events affecting Aquila until the possession of the Megno by the Spanish
dyns
; events each fraught with years of disturbance and misery.°
Jamponesco si adalte alle circonstanze,” says Antinori, vol. ii. » Antinori, vol. ii.
© The principal part of this, information concerning Aquila is drawn from the work of Bernardino
Cirillo, called “
printing-p’
Mention is made of the first
Annali della Citt& dell’ Aquila,” printed about 1550.
in Italy having been established in Aquila by Adam Rothweiler, in Giustiniani’s “
sulla Tipo. del Reg. di Napoli,” p. 101.
44
In 1528 this restless city rebelled against the authority of the Emperor
Charles V., and was fined one hundred and twenty thousand seudi by Philibert
Prince of Orange, who built the castle now commanding the whole city, and,
it is said, levied farther exactions to the amount of above three hundred
thousand dollars.*
During the rest of the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries
Aquila seems to have been fast sinking to that secondary position which it
now holds: nor ig
it worth while to record more of its history in detail.
In 1703 a most fearful earthquake occurred throughout the Abruzzi,
from the 14th to the 21st of January, and great part of Aquila was again
reduced to ruins: two thousand four hundred persons perished by the falling
of houses in the city alone, and great numbers were wounded; above twenty
thousand persons perished within the province.
After this weary list of plague, famine, earthquake, oppression, internal
discord, and rebellion, one wonders rather to see Aquila as flourishing as it
now is, than that it should not be more so. Nor has the history of cen-
turies brought wisdom to the inmates of this unfortunate city; for it is but
a very few years ago that fresh conspiracies and disturbances provoked the
anger of the Government, and were the cause of several of its noblest palaces
being at this day tenantless. Thus much by way of history of Aquila the
fallen.
The Intendente or Governor of Aquila, to whom we had a letter of intro-
duction, was at the Baths of Antrodoco, for the benefit of his health: so we
occupied our afternoon in a stroll about the city, which afforded plenty of
amusement in the variety of bits of Gothic architecture of the thirteenth and
fourteenth centuries; doors, windows, &c. &c. presenting themselves at every
step. Few towns, indeed, possess more interesting studies for an architect.
The quiet loneliness of the place had also its charms for us; and we re-
turned with favourable impressions of Aquila to our inn, close to whose gate
stands the Tower of Margaret of Austria’s palace.
In passing through several of the streets we were struck by the harmo-
nious singing or chanting of the workmen—blacksmiths and others—at their
labour.
* Giustiniani. ° Geo. Baglivi, p. 25.
August 5, 1843. We devoted the morning to visiting churches, &e.: but
of the buildings of Aquila I shall say little ; partly, because to describe them
would require the pen of an architect, and because many of the principal
edifices are already known to the public by the Hon. K. Craven’s Tour. The
Church of Santa Maria di Collemaggio is highly interesting, and as remarkable
for the beauty of its architectural details as for the whimsical appearance of
its principal front, which is formed of red and white marble so arranged as
to have rather the look of Chinese workmanship. (See vignette, title-page. )
The date of its erection is about 1260, but the interior is entirely modern-
ized; though on the walls there are some very beautiful frescoes, representing
46
the life of San Benedetto, each compartment containing several animals finely
executed. The situation of Santa Maria di Collemaggio is very striking: it
stands alone at a short distance from the city, overlooking the wild vale of
Aquila, with the pale peaks of Monte Corno shining against the dark-blue
Ip wep u
47
sky. The aisles were silent and deserted,—the whole building in a neglected
condition; and. the mind involuntarily recurred, in contrast, to the coronation
of Pope Celestine, in 1294, and the two hundred thousand spectators of that
scene of pomp."
We set off late to Antrodoco. On looking back, there is a fine general
view of the position of the city (see Piarz XIII); but the spreading hill of
Aquila was soon shut out, as the road wound among barren mountains.
Civita Thomasa (perhaps the ancient Foruli) was on our right, but the short-
ness of our time prevented our making any departures from the beaten track.
The whole line of road up the pass, at the top of which is a wretched little
village called Rocca di Corno, disappointed us, as we had heard exaggerated
accounts of its general character: it is certainly greatly inferior in grandeur
and beauty to many passes in Cumberland, until, from a turn in the
road (where a very picturesque Chapel, called the Madonna delle Grotte, looks
* Having very little knowledge of architecture, I selected (on my return to Aquila in 1844 ; see Hx-
cursion, No, IIT.) as illustrative vignettes, such buildings, &c. as pleased my eye, or were pointed out by
the Aquilani as the most remarkable—the Churches of S. Giusta, 8. Maria Paganica, S. Domenico, S. M.
del Soccorso, &e., dsc. The sketch of the Gothic houses (see Excursion, No. II.) will convey an idea of the
style of building observable in many of the streets of Aquila ; but that ci
should be visited to enable
one to form any idea of the abundance of details which may be gathered in it for the architect's portfolio.
48
down the pass), the valley suddenly narrows and becomes at every step of a
more wild character.
Hence you go down by a most zig-zag route (supposed to represent a
-arriage-road) to the valley, where the torrent, whose course you have been
accompanying, joins the river Velino, and where it has pleased the founders
of Antrodoco to place their town, mainly because it is protected by a rock,
the castle on which commands three formidable passes. From the last few
turns of the spiral descent, where a vast rock overhangs the road, there is a
very grand view of the town at the foot of immense and gloomy hills; but
it was so nearly dark on our arrival that we could only gaze with awe into
the solemn abyss, where an indistinct mass of towers and roofs was alone
discernible.
Antrodoco was the ancient Interocrea,* a station on the Via Salara: of
its modern history I know little, except that it was destroyed by the people
of Aquila in 1364,” in one of their frantic expeditions.
A yery vile Osteria was the only place we could discover as a night’s
lodging, and a sorry stable for our horses; so we bemoaned ourselves accord-
ingly,—the more that two very wooden-looking slices of ham and one egg
were all we could get for supper. “ Mangiono tutto i bagnanti,” quoth the host:
“7% bagnanti” being the bathers, or invalids, who resort to the mineral waters
of Antrodoco, and fill the town for a short summer-season, during which these
unwonted lodgers consume all the food in the market. Under these adversi-
@ Cramer, Ane. It. i. 318. ® Cirillo, 43.
—————— == ee ———— _ a = ——
~ ——— a = ve — = = —
49
ties, great was our pleasure at a message from Prince Giardinelli, (the Inten-
dente of Abruzzo Secondo Ulteriore, to whom we had despatched our ereden-
tials,) praying us to sup with him forthwith; and although we sent a reply
touching our lack of personal ornament after our long journey, yet his polite-
ness overcame all our scruples, and to supper we went.
The Prince was a lively little man of friendly manners, who spoke English.
Near him was a sweet little
girl, his only child, of about ten years of age;
and about the room were various 1
wali attached to his suite, and sundry per-
sonaggi of the town, who were paying their evening devoirs. These by degrees
subsided, and we were left with the Governor and Donna Caterina, who, after
a long hour in which I was more than half asleep, took us into a. room
where was a table, plate, covers, &c.
And what did we not see when those covers were removed! Sir R. C. Hoare’s Classical Tour, i. 339.
E.Lear del etlith.
fo
old and modern pictures in profusion, looking-glasses, china, bedeck the walls,
and the number of rooms is bewildering; one suite where the present King
Ferdinand has sojourned during some of his progresses is comparatively
splendid.
And in like taste and order was the repast this friendly family prepared
for me, (their own dinner-hour being over,) all things much as you might
find them at any country gentleman’s in our own country. A white wine
of the district was highly commendable; and the lamb-cutlets might have done
credit to South Down or North Wales hospitality. The representative of my
absent host, a merry little physician of Sora, apologized that Don Antonio
Ferrante’s second son, Manfredi, was unwell, and unable to have the pleasure
of receiving me: the Doctor also assured me, that I lost much in not having
met with Don Antonio himself, who, he repeatedly declared, was “ wn vero
fulmine,’ though in what respect his learned friend (for Don Antonio had once
been an Advocate) resembled a thunderbolt, he did not precisely say.
After dinner and a siesta, il Dottore shewed me a most delightful gar-
den, attached to the house, and commanding the whole of the vast Swiss-
looking valley of Roveto. Nothing could be more unexpected or charming
than this well-kept villa, in so wild a spot; and I could easily believe, that
for months, nay years, the family do not go beyond their own grounds.
In truth, the toil of ascent to these eyrie homes must make it infinitely
desirable that they should contain all things to satisfy the wants of their
, wild boar, lately taken
owners. A nook in the garden contained a solite
in the woods near the house, who seemed no wise reconciled to the garden
uxuries of his new home.
I was anxious to obtain a faithful representation of Civita D’Antino,
ut was scarcely able to do so, when a terrific thunder-storm, whose warn-
ing clouds had clothed the scene with inconceivable grandeur, drove me to
the Palazzo Ferrante, where, till evening, I was amused by the good per-
‘ormance on the piano-forte of Don Manfredi Ferrante, whom I found on
my return to the house. At supper, our party was further increased by
Donna Maria Ferrante, and one daughter, who, though far from being so
nandsome as her sister Donna Costanza Coletti, was yet extremely pretty.
The mistress of the mansion was still as remarkable for the beauty of her
76
face as for her agreeable manners. The lady-like quiet self-possession and
simple friendliness of these Abruzzese females, of the higher orders, much
delighted me, and I fancied I saw the fac similes of the dames of our own
country, in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.
August 29th, 1843. I passed the morning in drawing, though the
magnitude of the mountain lines prevents Civita d’Antino from being
easily transferred to paper; and some time was devoted to the ancient Cyclo-
pean remains round the town. After our noon-day dinner I set off, (though
much entreated to stay by these good people,) Don Manfredi accompanying
me for two or three miles. A curious change of life had occurred to this
young man: he had been educated at Naples, and was well accustomed to
the gaieties of the metropolis: a short time since he had been called from
(what was in his case) the livelier position of a younger son to fulfil graver
duties, as representative of his father, his elder brother having suddenly re-
nounced all claim to his family property by becoming a Jesuit. I could
not help thinking, from the remarks of Don Manfredi, that this prospect of
riches and dignity seemed a poor compensation for loss of liberty; for the
Abruzzese proprietor seldom quits his paternal estate: “ Siamo come i lupi,
chiust in queste montagne ;”—said he, “non vado pit in citta.”
I wandered down to the river Liris, through a beautiful oak wood;
dwelling much on the memory of such frequent hospitalities; such warm-
hearted people; such primitive mountain homes.
Below Civitella di Roveto, (from which the valley is named,) I crossed to
the right bank of the clear stream, and followed its course to the little
village of Santa Croce, whence I toiled up a thickly-wooded hill of ches-
nuts to Canistro, a small neat town very high up on the mountains, my
intention being to remain there until morning, as a married daughter of
Baron Coletti resided there, and I partly hoped to have fallen in with
some of my Tagliacozzo friends, who had been to her house on a visit. But
on arriving there, I found my friends had departed that morning, so I hurried
down again, and went on to Pesco Canale and Capistrello, reaching Avezzano
(by very hard walking,) at one hour of the night.
Wil
August 30, 1843. I could not resolve on leaving the neighbourhood of
Capistrello without a sketch of its picturesque situation, so I returned thither
and drew, at early morn, though the walk back at noon over the Campi Valen-
tini, a perfectly unsheltered plain, was rather a severe undertaking. Indeed I
was well nigh knocked up by heat and thirst, and anxiously asked every pea-
sant I met coming from the market of Avezzano, if they were carrying fruit or
liquid of any sort: of course they had nothing but onions, pommi Por, eggs,
or lambswool stockings. To my great joy, the last turn of the winding
road over the mountain above the Emissario, divulged a dear old woman car-
rying a huge water-melon, half of which she sold me for the sum of one grain,
(less than a farthing,) and very refreshing it was. I regret not having seen
or drawn the opening of the Emissario at Capistrello, which I believe is very
picturesque.
From Avezzano that afternoon, I hied me on foot to Celano, a place I
longed much to examine; and the Sottintendente of the Distretto, Don
Romeo Indelicato (as odd a name as any one may discover,) had obligingly
furnished me with a letter to one of the principal families of the town, the
Tabassi.*
I have already said so much of Celano, that little remains but to give
some account of my new hosts and their family. The Tabassi are of Sol-
mona origin, and they are spoken of in old books’ as among the most ancient
of that city. Their possessions are scattered over the Abruzzi: the eldest
brother, Baron Tabassi, resides at Chieti; Stefano inhabits Pescina; Francesco
has a fine house at Solmona; and Pamfilo lives in Celano with two unmarried
sisters; a third is a nun.
I passed four days at Celano, Don Francesco and Don Pamfilo, Donna
Costanza and Donna Felicetta, being then the occupants of the family house.
ist me; but left
me to do just as I pleased with regard to my out-of-doors occupation. In
These good people sought every opportunity to oblige and as
* I usually conveyed my luggage, cons ting of two large carpet-bags, on a mule or ass, whose
driver served as guide; and six carlines was the ordinary sum paid for a day’s march, with some-
thing over and above for buona mano. But as my walks were frequently from twenty-five to thirty
miles, I had of course to pay in proportion. » Pachichelli, iii. 19.
78
the evening, a few of the townspeople usually came in, and they delighted
in looking over my sketches and recognizing each other's houses, &c. That
which gained me more praise than any, was the view of St. Maria di Luco,
(see Pirate 5,) where I ‘had drawn a rope, attached to the bell of the cam-
panile, the end of which entered the open widow of an adjacent house. This,
it seems, was a plan of an old sexton, who preferred ringing the bell while
he lay in bed to rising an hour earlier; and the shouts of laughter the “ Cam-
pana dell’ Ozioso,” used to provoke, were wonderful.
We had seated ourselves to supper the first evening of my arrival, when
I felt myself suddenly shaken forward in my chair, till my nose nearly touched
the table: some novel domestic arrangement of a servant behind, shaking every-
body into his seat—said I to myself: — but the moment after all the family
rose, and various people, screaming “ Zerramoto!” ran wildly into the room.
Celano, and indeed the whole province of Abruzzo Ulteriore Secondo is very
subject to earthquakes, and during my stay in the neighbourhood there were
four shocks, which I soon learned to recognise as such.
The Tabassi family lived in a plain substantial manner, with no display.
The rooms of their palazzo were comfortable for an Italian residence; though
an English eye almost regrets the want of curtains, carpets, and crowded fur-
niture, even where the heat of the climate render such luxuries objectionable.
August 31st, 18438. Drew above the town, and in the meadows below>
whence the stupendous rock behind it is seen to great advantage. Two pea-
sants came out of their field to offer me some almonds. Don Pamfilo took
me over the interior of the Castle, a noble building: its carved doorways and
windows, cortile, chapel, all in a solid style of Baronial splendour, but neglected
and decaying. We also saw a convent below the town, which contains a good
picture,—* s¢ dice la magnificenza di Giulio Romano,” said an old monk who
shewed it. At twelve,—having risen at four,—the good soup, fresh whitings,
boiled capon, slices of cold ham and Bologna sausage, heaps of Macaroni,
stewed veal, roast pigeon, pears, plums, and melons, were very acceptable; and
such was the quality of their usual meals.
Sleep—drawing till dark—society—and supper.
fai solo solo solo in queste aspre montagne
September, Ist, 2nd, and 3rd. Various excursions oceupied my time when
not employed in drawing the town. One afternoon I followed the wild and
dreary road to Aquila as far as San Potito: nothing can be much more savage
and barren than this part of the vicinity of Celano; and I was sorry I had
not time to reach Ovindole, a town on a precipitous rock in the distance,
which appeared highly picturesque. T returned by Sant’ Iona, a bleak-looking
village, with no particular interest.
Another morning I allotted to the Bocca di Castelluccio, a narrow and
formidable pass behind the mountain, at whose foot Celano stands. The en-
trance to this lonely ravine, ever unvisited by the sun, is between terrific rocks,
which in parts of the pass are so close together as barely to admit the pas:
of a loaded mule. Throughout the winter, torrents, or snow, prevent any
communication by this untoward road; but during summer it is visited by a
few poor people, who gather the wood left in it by the winter's ravages. “ Che
?” said an old creature laden with
sticks, in amazement at my unknown employment. “Statewt buono—ma, che
cosa fai?” said one or two woodmen. “ Badate vi del caldo quando uscite,”
said others with a good-natured consideration. After these rare interruptions,
the scream, or rushing flight of a hawk, or the fall of a stone from the lofty
sides of this mountain Soce, as these chasms are called, were the only sounds
that broke its deadly stillness, and I was glad to return to the “ caldo,’ and
the merry family at Celano.
On fast days these good but homely people were sadly distressed at my
having no meat, though I assured them I did not care about it; which was not
strictly true, for I hate crabs, bream, barbel, and frogs. And then the no-
velty of pear-soup, and the potatoes, which were dressed in fifty fashions!
—“E vero che campono loro di Patate?”—* Buono lei pel addatarsene.’"—I shall
always remember each division of the twenty-four hours as passed at Celano
jn the fresh meadows at the foot of the
with peculiar pleasure ; the mornin
town, straying among the tall poplars wreathed with vines, till the sun came
over the vast crag, and forced one to retreat to cooler haunts; the cloudless
mid-day when all was still; the calm evenings, so full of beautiful incidents ;
the return at sunset to the town with groups of peasants carrying up their
80
corn, or large parties of girls bearing each her conca, or vessel of water from
the pure spring at the foot of the rock. And at night, how calm and bright
| was the lake, like a line of silver, below the palace windows in the light of
the full moon, the old castle flinging long shadows over the silent town!
September 4th, 1848. By sunrise I had left my friends, and was on my
way from Celano to San Benedetto,* a little village near the site of the
ancient Marruvium. The walk thither was not over delightful or interesting,
1 as the flat ground by the lake side was merely a continued garden of almonds
or gran-turco, and an east wind blew so cuttingly over the Forea Carusa, that
by the time I reached San Benedetto I was unable to speak from violent
} rheumatism and toothache. Hitherto I had been most fortunate in weather,
|
but the autumnal season now approaching threatened a change, and indeed
| these high mountains are subject to variable climate even during the summer
months of most years.
Don Angelo Felici Ottavi, to whom Don Pamfilo Tabassi had recommended
me, was a hearty good sort of a man, who offered to take charge of my luggage,
while I crossed the Lake of Fucino to Trasacco, (of which I wanted to make
a drawing,) provided I would dine at his house on my return.
I was placed in a flat-bottomed boat or punt, and two men soon carried me
over the quiet lake, whose glassy surface reflected every cloud in the loveliest
colours. Distant Alba and Velino were diminished to faint horizon objects,
but the mountains on the eastern and southern side of the water were very
grand. Numbers of cormorants hover over the Lake, or sit watching on poles
placed for fishing in the shallowest parts of it.
At Trasacco, where I arrived before noon, I found old Don Bernardo de’
Gasparis, with his six sons, Dons Serafino, Cesidio, Loreto, Filippo, Giacomo,
and Odoardo, who all received me with the same cordiality as on our first visit,
and treated me with every kindness. All Trasacco was in agitation at the
horrible news just arrived, that Don Tita Masciarelli’s coachman had murdered
the housekeeper at Paterno; that the murderer, who had been committed to the
* Cramer, i. 328. Sir R. C. Hoare, i. 359. Pope Boniface IV. was born at S. Benedetto, accord-
ing to Martelli, Antichit& dei Sicoli, ii, 25.
81
prison of Celano, had strangled himself almost immediately on being left alone,
so that no further light could be thrown on the tragedy, which created a great
sensation throughout the Marsica, where murders are exceedingly unfrequent.
September 1843. I was anxious to arrive at Pescina by night, so I
took an early leave of the good De’ Gasparis, although I could willingly have
explored the neighbourhood of Trasacco more at leisure. Don Serafino insisted
on my accepting a valuable old book, the Memorie della Chiesa di Trasacco,
a little work, which, like many of those compiled by natives of these
small towns, contained some interest dispersed in a world of heavy detail.
T coasted the sides of the Lake in a punt; and in many parts the perpen-
dicular rocks which enclose it are full of grandeur: on one, a little hermitage
is perched, to which one can ascend by steps from the water's edge. Ata
spot called Arciprete—(supposed to recall Arcippe, an ancient city,")—there are
some pretty glades and patches of cultivation, and flocks of milk-white goats
were lying by the side of the waters: all communication with these spots ex-
cept by means of boats is cut off, owing to the Lake being now too high to
admit of any other.
At Ortucchio,* a small town on a low peninsula at the south-eastern side
of the Lake, I landed to look at the old Castle which still stands in good
preservation ; its drawbridge, &c., being completely perfect.
* Cramer i. 331.
» Ortucchio does not seem to have occupied the site of any ancient town; and the only notice
I have found of its existence is, that it was besieged and taken by Roberto Orsini in the fifteenth
century. Summonte, iii. 367.
M
82
There is a good deal of the picturesque about the narrow streets and dilapi-
dated outskirts of the village, and I regretted not having had more time to
devote to it.
The heat was intense as we punted across to San Benedetto, between
which and Ortucchio the views are very beautiful towards the mountains of
Lecce, and Venere: this last place merited a visit, for there are many remains
of antiquity in its vicinity, but the sun obliged me to hurry on to San Bene-
detto, where I passed the midday hours, and dined very unsatisfactorily on
barbel and vinocotto.
San Benedetto is less than two hours’ walk from Pescina, to which town,
the modern representative of the Marsican capital and the residence of its
masses
Bishop, I set out as soon as it was cool enough. Several shapele
of ruin are near the borders of the Lake, and at a short distance is the ruined
Cathedral of the Marsi, a most picturesque fragment, and full of interest for
an architect.
Pescina is a large town, containing three thousand inhabitants, strikingly
situated on the side of a wild ravine or gorge, through which ‘the little river
Giovenco flows to the Lake. Its houses are piled one above the other very
picturesquely, and most of them have pigeon-houses attached.* A ruined castle
crowns the whole picture.
On arriving, I went to Don Stefano Tabassi, a courteous and well-informed
person, who lives in the Palazzo Tomacetti, at the foot of the town, containing,
as usual, a labyrinth of rooms, hung with faded tapestry or red cloth, and
adorned with portraits ad infinitum. Two young abbati, his nephews, accom-
panied me to the great lion of Pescina, the house where on July 14, 1602,"
Cardinal Mazarin, (whose father was governor of the town) was born. The
view of the old house is extremely pleasing, with its ruined loggia, stand-
ing on a crag which juts out over the ravine, while behind it rises a pyramid
of pigeon-houses surmounted by the Castle, and beyond, wild rock and distant
mountains complete the scene. (See Pirate X XI.)
Don Stefano de’ Tabassi keeps a very excellent table, and his wines are
admirable. His conversation was very entertaining, and our hours of society
a The pigeons kept in Pescina are exceedingly numerous: the refuse of their houses is used as
manure for hemp, and fetches fifteen carlini the sack.
> Gualdo Hist. del Minist, del Card. G. Mazarin.
E Lear del etlith
83
and supper passed cheerfully by. The unaffected and well-bred hospitality of
these people cannot be too much appreciated.
September 6th, 1843. The morning was lost to me by one of those bitterly
cold and violent winds to which the ravine of Pescina is subject; these, and
the confined situation of the town, would make it a very undesirable residence.
Numbers of women were coming to the Piazza with wood from the high moun-
tains above Gioja: most of them were from Lecce, and wore a very pretty cos-
tume, a rarity throughout the Abruzzi, where the dress of the women is usu-
ally very plain and common-place. The aprons of these damsels were of all
colours and patterns, and worked by hand; but on no account would their
owners either be drawn themselves, or sell any part of their dress, and they
ran away and hid themselves if I only took a sketch-book from my pocket.
The afternoon, when the weather became more serene, was passed in draw-
ing quietly below the Mazarini Loggia, and about the town, amongst whose
scattered outskirts many pretty studies might be found.
In the evening there was a shock of earthquake, but no damage resulted ;
and the bells of Pescina rang the usual alarm on these occasions, namely,
three “tocs” of the Campana.
September 7th, 18438. Most bitter pass of Pescina! How the chilling
wind wailed between your bleak rocks, as I set off towards Seanno at sun-
rise! Surely the infant Mazarin must have been rheumatism-proof, since his
natal mansion is more exposed than any in the town to the sweeping rush
at having taken leave of
of cold air. Nor was I a whit less comfortl«
; nor did the prospect of a very dull
my agreeable friend, Don Stefano Tabas
and uninteresting journey, from the time I came out of the narrow passage
of the stream to the valley of Ortona, at all mend the matter. Dull indeed
it was, that barren vale, shut in by two lines of equally barren hill, with
here and there -a spot of corn, or a few scattered oaks, or a solitary poplar
dotting the bleak landscape. Yet the constant courtesy of the Abruzzi pea-
santry would lighten even a drearier ramble.
84
“Occorre cosa?”—can I do anything for you?—said most of them whom I
met; or, at the least, their salutation would be “ Buonviaggio!” or “Stia forte!”
Ortona, below which I passed, is altogether unattractive and unworthy a
second look, so I hastened on, and, leaving the road to Scanno on the left,
proceeded to a village called San Sebastiano, where a French company have
established an iron-foundry, to the agent of which D. Stefano Tabassi had
given me a letter, not that the Ferrerid was an interesting subject to me, but
everybody said I ought to see it. Indeed, most of the poor people about
here seemed much excited about these iron-works; but as a company of
speculators have lately settled themselves near the Maiella, with the intention
of extracting sugar from potatoes, the simple peasantry make an odd jumble
of the two different mestieri. “Siete di quelli chi tirano lo zucchero dal
ferro?” said one, and “sarete della compagnia cht stanno a far la ferro con
patate?” was the question of another; (for a stranger is so rare an occur-
rence in these wild districts, that he is sure to be set down as one of the
iron-workers, or sugar-makers.)
At San Sebastiano I fell in with Monsr. Richardon, the overseer of the
new works, who informed me that his principal was absent, but invited me
very heartily to join his colazione (to which he was then returning) and
thereby I passed an hour very agreeably. Two or three of his lively coun-
trymen had lately arrived from France, and entertained us by their horror of
sundry omissions of cleanliness on the part of the aborigines of San Sebastiano,
to which the older colonists seemed well broken in; but Monsr. Richardon
recalled to their memory some village in Brittany, where, so far from soup-
plates being only washed occasionally, the inhabitants substituted shallow holes
cut in the wooden dinner-table, which communicated by channels with a
perpetual tureen in the centre, into which the soup was poured, and diverged
therefrom into each guest’s plate or trough, to the great saving of trouble and
earthenware.
After luncheon I followed my host to the new establishment, which is
planted by a beautiful stream of water below a neighbouring village, the name
of which I cannot recollect. The scene was really curious ; nearly two hun-
dred peasants were at work on the rising buildings: oxen dragging timber,
hammers sounding, and all this bustle of activity greatly contrasting with the
85
desolate solitude of the valley around. The iron ore is obtained in the
neighbouring mountain of Lecco, and the Frenchmen expect that the whole
of their foundry will be completed in another year.
I could not accept Monsr. Richardon’s invitation to pass the night at
San Sebastiano, as my time was portioned out; so I pursued my route on a
capital horse the good-natured man insisted on my taking to the top of the
mountain, which is to be climbed before reaching Scanno. I had the greatest
curiosity to see that town, having frequently heard of it from some of its
inhabitants, who annually visit Rome during the holy week, where their
curious head-dress makes them easily distinguishable.
From the summit of the long hills there is the loveliest possible bird’s-eye
view of the whole Lake of Fucino, lying in unbroken deep-blue in its circle of
purple hills. I turned from that beautiful scene with regret, and commenced
following my guide through a long beechwood, till the mountains and vale of
Scanno burst on the view in all their dreary majesty; no vegetation; no
break in the hills to charm the eye with some milder scene beyond, but
towering walls of bare rock, shivered into ravines, or formed by nature into
gigantic buttresses, crowned with light gray crags and points against the dark-
blue sky, and surrounding a long plain fully as barren as its confines. As
eY fo} oO
I looked down on the desolate scene below me, a winding path among the
great fragments of rock, with which this yalley is thickly covered over, led my
eye to the remotest part of it, where the dark indigo-coloured Lake of
Scanno, with one bright building on its edge, and a fringe of trees at its
upper extremity, lay solitary and gloomy in its mountain prison.
At the end of a long descent I found myself opposite to the mournful
little town of Villalago, in passing which I caught a glimpse of a chasm,
the Gole or Foce di Scanno, which might be drawn as the Poet’s Inferno;
but my present way lay onward through the wild plain, whose appearance was
by no means improved by a nearer investigation.
Not so the Lago di Scanno, which is really one of the most perfectly
beautiful spots in nature, and the more for being in so desert a place. Its
dark waters slumber below bare mountains of great height; and their gene-
ral effect might recall Wastwater in Cumberland, but that every craggy hill
was of wilder and grander form; and that the golden hues of an Ttalian
86
September evening gave it a brilliancy rarely known in our own north. At
the upper end of the Lake, which may be a mile and a half in length, an
avenue of beautiful oaks, dipping their branches into the water, shade the
rocky path, and lead to a solitary chapel, the only building in sight, save a
hermitage on the mountain beyond. The beauty and stillness of this remote
Lake were most impressive. (See Prats XXII.)
As yet, the town of Scanno was unseen. A wide, marshy plain, through
which the river Sagittaria flows, and a tract of white stgnes were to be
passed, until, on a considerable eminence, but shut out by enclosing mountains
from any view but of the bleakest rocks immediately around, behold Scanno,
a clean-looking town, with two or three Campanili and principal houses in
prominent situations. (See Prare XXIII.) As I wound up the ascent to
its gate, I was struck by the cleanliness and silence of the place, and by the
strange turbaned figures, gliding about the well-paved streets.
The costume of the women of Scanno is extremely peculiar, and suggests
WIP PP Rey E
87
an Oriental origin, particularly when (as is not unusually the case with the
older females,) a white handkerchief is bound round the lower part of the face,
concealing all but the eyes and nose. In former days, the material of the
Scannese dress was scarlet cloth richly ornamented with green velvet, gold
ace, &c., the shoes of worked blue satin, and the shoulder- straps of massive
silver, a luxury of vestments now only possessed by a very few. At pre-
sent, both the skirt and boddice are of black or dark-blue cloth, the former
veing extremely full, and the waist very short; the apron is of scarlet or
crimson stuff.
The head-dress is very striking: a white handkerchief is surmounted by a
falling cap of dark cloth, among the poorer orders; but of worked purple satin
with the rich, and this again is bound round, turbanwise, by a white or prim-
rose-coloured fillet, striped with various colours, though, excepting on festa
days, the poor do not wear this additional band.
* THE W
The hair is plaited very beautifully with riband; and the ear-rings, buttons,
‘
q
88
neck-laces, and chains are of silver, and in rich families, often exceed-
ingly ¢
It is the prettiest thing in the world to see the children, who have beau-
tiful faces, and are all turbaned, even as little babies. As for the women, they
are decidedly the most beautiful race I saw in the Abruzzi: —their fresh and
clear complexion, fine hair, good features, and sweet expression, are delightful ;
and owing to their occupation being almost entirely that of spinning wool,
their faces have a delicacy, which their countrywomen who work in the
fields cannot lay claim to.
Everything about Scanno is odd and quaint, and unlike any other Italian
town, and the sight of every house, with its fair inmates spinning at the old-
fashioned wheels before the doors, was very pleasant, as I passed up the well-
paved streets to the house of the family, to whom the Giudice of Antrodoco
had given me a letter of introduction. The inhabitants seemed particularly
calm and silent, indulging little in that animated speech or action so charac-
teristic of the people of the south. The whole population of the Abruzzi
provinces, have, indeed, much more repose of manner than is usual with their
countrymen, and are a great contrast to their noisy brethren nearer Naples.
Of the men of Scanno, who dress in dark blue cloth with brown woollen
gaiters, very few are seen in the town, as they are principally on the neigh-
D
bouring mountains in summer, and during winter in Apulia, with the floc
in which the wealth of Scanno consists. Wool forms the great article of
trade between Scanno and the neighbouring towns, and long files of mules laden
with it are constantly passing through the narrow defile towards Solmona, one
of the few outlets from this secluded valley.
My new host is said to be very wealthy, and though his palace is very large
now, yet he is doubling its extent. He was not at first within, but I found
his mother, (a well-bred and handsome old gentlewoman, wearing the Scannese
costume,) overlooking the preparations for supper, (it was already Ave Maria,)
in a spacious kitchen or rather hall, whose nice order and complete appoint-
ments of crockery, and bright copper and tin utensils, would have done no dis-
credit to the best farmhouse in Old England. Every part of the house seemed
equally well cared for. Our party at supper consisted of the master of the
house, his sister, and their uncle. When I asked if their mother was coming
89
—“é occupata” was the answer. As for the sister she never said a word; no,
not one; and I should have thought she was dumb if she had not arisen after
a very slight meal, and, first saying “Prosit,”* with a loud voice, went out of
the room. The uncle kept talking about the everlasting Thames Tunnel till
I was bored to extinction.
September 8th and 9th, 1843. Scanno is an exceedingly cold place, and
in winter is surrounded by snow for many months; the air is very pure and
healthy. Nothing appears certainly known of the origin of the town, and the
earliest notice of it is about 1450.” Pachichelli® suggests, that it may have
been called Sanno, from its having had a Samnite origin. It is more natural
to suppose that it was from the union of several colonies from various parts dur-
ing the turbulent times of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and to this the
armorial insignia of the town—a cluster of castles, gives great probability. It
contains about three thousand inhabitants. After drawing at the Lake, I re-
turned to a fésta of the Madonna, which was more worth seeing than any I
ever witnessed in Italy, on account of the procession of all the women of the
place in their Gala dresses; and the display of beauty was really extraor-
dinary. At dinner, the day being Friday, tench, barbel, and bream, were
the only fare: the silent sister said “Prosit,” as before; and the uncle
would talk about that horrid Tunnel. In the afternoon, after I had finished
my drawing, I rode on a good horse with Don ———; there is splendid
scenery about Scanno, and I suspect the pass to Castel di Sangro would be
worth exploring.
At Ave Maria I was delighted by the harmony of a Litany sung by great
numbers of the townspeople in the principal church: the air was from Lucia
di Lammermoor, and the effect was very pleasing. There is a great deal of
musical feeling in these country towns; snatches of melody continually strike
the ear, and I often longed to have more leisure to gather such scraps.
@ The Latin “ Prosit,” is frequently used, among the middle and lower classes in some parts of Italy,
by persons rising from table ; or when passing through a room where others are at meals. It is also
addressed to persons when sneezing.
> Giustiniani. © Pachichelli, iii. 31.
90
“ O come passano
I di felici,
E non ci resta
Che'l sospirar !
Pass’ il contento
L amor, la gioja
E quel ch’ é peggio
La vita ancor.
Such were the words, though the air I cannot recall, of a mournful stanza
[ often heard sung at Scanno.
Supper: barbel, bream, a trout, (by good luck,) Prost and the Tunnel.
September 9th, 1843. Drawing the beautiful Lake and the costumes of
the servants in the house occupied me all day. But it was in vain to hope
for a smile from these very obliging, but too sedate people, who were unlike
the families I had hitherto seen. I thought, why do you build such rooms and
a new palace, with nothing to fill it but this dulmess? And how can you live
day after day on tench and barbel, barbel and tench ?
It was my last evening at Scanno. The dark-eyed sister was hopelessly
mute, “ E stata in Solmona?”—* Non Signore-—” In Aquila ?”—Nemmeno—* Va
qualche volta a spasso?” — Signor no.—“ Si occupano le donne di Scanno dalle
affari di casa,” said Don
So I gave it up—_* Prosit.”
September 10, 1843. It was an object with me to make some drawings
of the Foce or Gole di Scanno, and as the finest parts of the pass are too far
from Scanno or Anversa, to be conveniently reached from either, I had ob-
tained a letter from the French Agent at San Sebastiano, to a family in the
little town of Villalago,* which is the most central point. To this place, Don
—— accompanied me, after I had bid farewell to Scanno and its good people.
As we reached Villalago, my host, that was to be, happened to be outside
the town, and half the population (who are very poor and not extremely pre-
possessing in appearance,) were thronging round a small church, whose open
doors displayed two large naked figures in the midst of flames representing
® Villa Lago contains 700 inhabitants. | Giustiniani.
91
purgatory. My new friend and his family had none of that cheerful cordiality
I had hitherto so constantly remarked, and when Don —— left me on his
return to Scanno, I could not help thinking that I had got into rather an
odd place.
Don , one of my new friends, volunteered to shew me a part of the
Foce or pass; so down we went, and I want words to give even a feeble idea
of the terrible magnificence of the scene. Villalago stands on the brink of a
precipice above the tremendous abyss through which the Sagittaria, in winter
a formidable torrent, rushes towards the plain of Solmona; a narrow mule-
path follows its windings, now through an open space cumbered with fragments
of shattered rock,—now through a chasm so contracted as to admit the river
and path only. One of these passes, the Stretti di San Luigi, is of fearful
height and narrowness, and except in summer weather is totally impassable.
STRETTI DI SAN LUIG
Eagles and ravens abound throughout the whole of this terrific gorge, whose
aspect chills the mind, as much as the cold wind sweeping through it does the
body. Towards Ave Maria we returned, halting at the Grotto and Chapel of
92
San Domenico, a curious and ancient Hermitage in a cavern amidst the wildest
possible mountain scenery, and thence we followed the upper pathway to my
host’s house in Villalago. They are the principal people in this little town,
and I cannot conceive a much less comfortable residence than their Palazzo ;
its only recommendation is, that, placed on a perpendicular height, it commands
one of the most extraordinary views I ever saw, down the ghastly gorge I have
been describing.
Although these good people were hospitable in their way, truth obliges one
to say that the uncleanliness of both house and owners was something uncom-
mon; and this, united to a curiosity unique as far as my experience went
among the Abruzzese, was depressing and uncomfortable. A pale daughter-in-
law, who sighed as she told me she was a native of Ortona, “wn paese almeno
polito,” was the only interesting person of the house, except her two little girls,
who though sharing the family evil of neglect were pretty and intelligent; and
we had great fun in playing cats-cradle (a common Abruzzo game,) together.
After they went to bed, two or three hours of severe penitenza ensued till
supper,—the grumblin
gs of the whole family against men and things in general
being far from enlivening,—and I was glad to feign weariness and retire to a
room, (the like of which happily one does not often see,) where I sate in a
chair and dozed till morning.
September 11, 1848. As much as possible I passed the day in drawing
the scenery, the grand character of which is worth the closest attention: but
though there are studies for a month in its neighbourhood, I resolved on leavy-
ing the town on the morrow. Yet, this same Villalago has formerly seen
more prosperous days, judging by the remains of magnificently worked satin
and velvet dresses still possessed by some of its very old inhabitants. At
present, as an old beggar-woman said to me,—(one of the few I observed
throughout the Abruzzo provinces,) “siamo qui, senza denaro, senza pane,
senza panni, senza speranza, senza niente!”
September 12, 1843. Long before sunrise I was on my way down the
Foce with a man and luggage-mule, and my step was not less light from any
93
regrets at leaving Villalago. Beyond the Stretti di San Luigi the pass be-
comes every moment more appalling and sublime, in one part widening out into
a broad vale, over which on a precipitous rock, a little village, Castro di Valva,
seems to hang suspended and tottering; but close to Anversa, (the castle of
which is seen at the opening of the gorge,) the stupendous rocks which enclose
the path are really beyond imagining. It is a relief to escape from this
cold prison, to the bright open hill beyond.
The town of Anversa® stands on a steep eminence, and _ its shattered
Castle commands the entrance of the pass. The name of the Avrciprete,
Don Colombo Gatta, had been given me as the only person likely to receive
strangers; so to his house I went, a clean and handsome palazzo: the
absence of inns makes this sort of dependence on private hospitality irksome ;
but there is no other mode of seeing these unfrequented parts of Italy.
“La fisonomia vostra vi basta per tutta raccomandazione,” quoth the polite
Don Colombo, who would not so much as hear the name of the person
who desired me to mention him. “Hntrate subito per carita!” and the friendly
clergyman forthwith led me to a neat room, where he insisted on my re-
posing till dinner, and from the windows of which a triangle of the bright
shining plain of Solmona was visible, between the hills that shut in the
valley of the Sagittaria.
The Arch-priest’s dining-room was a curious one, the walls being most
quaintly decked with coloured zoological drawings, all of which had their
names in large letters below each—Uomo, Donna, Cavallo, Cane, Civetta,
Triglia, or Farfalla—a highly requisite precaution, considering the extreme im-
probability of the spectator’s discovering what many of the paintings were
intended to represent. No fault however could possibly be found with Don
Colombo’s dinner; his plain lamb-cutlets, good fish, roast fowl, with entrées
of vegetables and pickles; his super-excellent wine with snow, and his melon-
steaks fried with cheese and pepper, which at least were a novelty.
In the afternoon I walked to Cocullo, a small town remarkable only for
its possession of a relique—a tooth of S. Domenico—on account of which
numerous pilgrims flock thither continually. Any person who is bitten by a
snake or mad dog, be he either in Naples or Rome, loses no time in setting
@ It contains 850 inhabitants. Giustiniani.
94
off to the shrine of S. Domenico, in Cocullo: and there is an annual fésta
in the town, at which the number of snake-charmers is very great; the floor
of the church, I have been told by many persons, exhibiting swarms of rep-
tiles crawling over it. I was not fortunate enough to see this display, but
I have no doubt of the fact.*
Cocullo is situated above Anversa, and looks down on the sullen opening
of Scanno, with its grim wall of mountain. I had not time to
draw the scene as I wished, for the sun had set, and though I made all
haste, it was so late when I arrived at Anversa, that I found the good-natured
Arciprete in a state of great agitation lest I should have become a prey to
the “Pericoli della Notte,” namely, il perdere la strada, il cascare @ un preci-
pizio, or essere ferito dai cani del campo: all of which evils he set forth
diligently during supper-time.
September 13th, 1843. Drew much at the mouth of the pass; a scene
so majestic that much time might be spent in doing it justice. As I sat
below a huge rock, on which a little goat-herd was piping to his scattered
charge, the sound of a chorus of many voices gradually roused the echoes of
the mighty walls: a most simple and oft-repeated air, slowly chanted by long
files of pilgrims, mostly women of Castel di Sangro, (perhaps fifty in num-
ber); they were on their way to the shrine of S. Domenico, in Cocullo, and
came in succession down the winding path, carrying large bales of different
coloured cloths on their heads, and walking with long sticks. (See Pate
XXIV).
Such little incidents are sought for in vain by the high-road traveller.
Long after the last of the pilgrims had disappeared, the notes rang at inter-
vals through the hollow, and then all was left to its own gloomy silence.
September, 14th, 1843. The Arciprete, who is a very rich Possidente, and
looks over his vineyards and fields of Gran Turco far and wide from his high
J co}
* For a Notice of the Marsic Snake-charmers, see K, Craven.
j
1
1
© q
f ip
§ os 1
is
] oo
: ovo
oS
95
home in Anversa, had a party of his friends last evening, and amused them
with my drawings. The lower orders speak in an almost unintelligible patovs,
totally different to that of the adjacent towns.
In the afternoon I left my hospitable host ; for although the pass contained
many a day’s work, I had yet to draw in the neighbourhood of Solmona, whither
I went by a path, along the course of the Sagittaria through a narrow valley
g beneath them. After a walk
of oak and olives, with Gran Turco flourishing
of about six miles over this well irrigated vale, often meeting long strings of
Scanno mules laden with wool, I left Bugnara, (apparently an uninteresting
town, ) on my right, and shortly beyond, the valley opens to the full view of
the plain of Solmona with all its mountain beauties.
On entering the old city of the Peligni for the second time, I went to the
friendly Palazzo Tabassi, where Don Francesco (called in the abbreviating Nea-
politan language Don Ciccio) received me with the greatest possible friend-
liness.
September 15, 16, 17, 1843. These days I passed most pleasantly in
3, would be but
Solmona; to praise the good taste and kindness of my ho
to repeat what I have already recorded of the Masciarelli, Ferranti, &e.
The mornings went in sketching in the neighbourhood, or in wandering
about the picturesque market-place, where the groups of peasantry are very
amusing. The women of Pettorano and Introdacqua, neighbouring towns, (to
the latter of which I made a morning excursion, but was not repaid for my
walk, ) alone wear peculiar costumes; the head-dress of both being of extreme
length, and the bust much ornamented with ribbons. The women of Sol-
mona plait their fine hair in a beautiful manner.
Our dinner hour was the usual one of noon.
One day, Don Saverio Giovennucci, the most remarkable person of Sol-
mona, dined with us; he is one hundred and four years of age, but in
f all his mental and bodily faculties, and a very agreeable com-
panion. He told me that he had never known a day’s illness, and that he
had outlived all his children and grandchildren, and that only one great-
grandchild remained to him. “Ed io,” said the cheerful old gentleman,
« sto pronto, quando sara la volonta del Signore di chiamarmi.”
96
In the evenings we made prima sera visits to some of the Solmonese
families, among which the members of that of Don Paolo Corvi were very
ple
sing. There was an old aunt also, “ Zia Agnese,” dependent on some
of the Tabassi, and confined to her bed. No day passed without a half-
hour being spent at her bedside; and one could not but be struck by the
affection ex
sting between all the members of this amiable family.
At most of these evening visits, it is customary to hand round rosolio and
confetti in great abundance. Confetti are the great production of Solmona,
which contains twelve great manufactories of these sugary toys, so much
esteemed that they are sent over all Italy: the operation of making them
is very curious.
September 18, 1843. Leaving my goods at the Casa Tabassi, I set off
(to save time) in a corricola, towards Popoli, but I was glad to leave my
vehicle below Rocca Casale, up to which I toiled in order to draw it, though
I found nothing for my pains. The rest of my morning I passed at work
below the ruins of Corfinium, (see Prarn XI.) and by noon was at the inn of
Popoli, which town employed my time and pencil for the rest of the day.
September 19, 1843. Off from Popoli a long while before day, for I
had cut out much work to be done ere sunset. A. crescent moon and stars
shone brightly as I left the town, where the jingling bells of impatient mules
broke the silence of the streets. The sun rose as I again passed Cor-
finium.
Skirting Rajano, I wandered up the hill we had descended on July 29;
and by the time I had drawn Goriano, and retraced my steps to Rajano, it
was well-nigh noon. Two peasants of San Martino, near Chieti, carrying
each fifty ducats’ worth of wooden ware to a fair at Avezzano, with some of
which little boxes I filled my pockets, (they cost about twopence each,) as
memorials of Abruzzo, were the only persons I saw during my excursion.
As to the Convent of Rajano, the friendly monks refreshed me with cab-
bage-soup, boiled beef, roast liver and figs, and sent me on my way rejoicing
to the Chapel of San Venanzio, a most picturesque hermitage in a neigh-
97
bouring ravine. All these matters filled up my day so thoroughly, that it
was dark when I reached the roof of Don Ciccio Tabassi, aud my drawings
were a great amusement to him and his friends during the evening, Zia Ag-
nese included.
September 21, 1843. Yesterday was a day of rest at Solmona, which
to-day I left three hours before sunrise, and with regret, for none but plea-
sant memories are connected with my stay there. Of the many agreeable
acquaintances these wanderings have been the means of my forming, Don F.
Tabassi is perhaps one of the most intellectual and amiable.
T had decided on revisiting the provinces of Chieti and Teramo, to sketch
over some of our already explored ground, and perhaps make further excur-
sions as occasion might offer, my stay always depending on weather, which,
during October, is frequently very uncertain among these high mountains.
I, my guide, and his ass,° now followed the high-road to Naples, (a con-
tinual ascent,) and arrived at sunrise at the town of Pettorano, which con-
tains about three thousand inhabitants, where I lingered to draw a most glo-
rious view over the plain of Solmona, the Gran Sasso lifting his pyramid of
rock over the high mountains beyond Corfinium.
About nine miles from Solmona, after a long and steep ascent, we reachec
Rocca di Vall Oscuro, a wretched little village,—picturesque enough; but one
had no time to draw it. Two miles beyond, we arrived at the celebrate:
Piano di 5 Miglia, which I had heard and read so much of, that I looked
forward to its passage with a curiosity not a little damped by the sight of a
dull, narrow plain, with very little of the romantic in its appearance, anc
moreover, with a high road running from end to end. Yet, in the fifteenth
and sixteenth centuries, whoever was to pass this formidable spot, made his
will previously; here in February, 1528, three hundred infantry of the Vene-
tian League against Charles V. perished in the snow; and in the following
year, March, 1529, more than five hundred Germans, under the Prince of
Orange, met with a similar fate.’ So little, during summer, is there any ap-
pearance of danger in this melancholy plain, that one hardly believes in these
* The expense of a mule or ass for a day’s journey is usually six or eight carlines; and the driver
depends on your generosity for a buona mano. > Del Re, vol. ii. p, 193.
(0)
98
>
fatal stories; but although the formation of a high-road has made the pass of
the Piano di 5 Miglia less frightful than of old, the sudden falls of snow, and
the high winds to which, from its elevated situation, it is very subject, cause
it still to be hurried over with some anxiety during winter, and not the less
so that its gloomy neighbourhood is in that season much infested by wolves.
The Emperor Charles V. erected towers at frequent intervals across this
pass to serve as shelter for travellers, but they were found so convenient for
the marauders who then, and long after, harassed Italy, that these were all
destroyed: at present a double line of high posts marks the direction of the
road even when the snow lies deeply on the plain.
The country is wild and not yery interesting beyond the Piano di 5 Miglia:
a plain below the town of Rivasondoli, and a descent to the rather pictu-
resque village of Rocca di Raso; and then, long windings of the road through
fine oak woods to Castel di Sangro, the approach to which is extremely
and mountain forms;
noble, and commands extensive lines of horizon with g
but the day was gloomy and the wind high, so I drew nought.
It was dark when we entered Castel di Sangro,* a-considerable town on
the confines of the province of Abruzzo Ulteriore Secondo. It boasts of one
tolerable inn; and the excellent trout of the river Sangro furnished me with
part of a very good supper.
September 22, 1843. It was absolutely too cold to draw, though I
worked hard till I had taken a correct outline of Castel di Sangro, (See
Prate XXV.) some views of which are really splendid. A day or two
might have been well devoted to visiting Alfidena and its Cyclopean remains,
and had the weather been more favorable, I would certainly have done go. I
was sorry also to give up all idea of visiting the fine mountains of the Pro-
vince of Molise or Campobasso (the land of the Samnites), whose dark-blue
rous of leaving
crags lay southward, among cloud and gloom; but I felt desi
my present abode, which was chilly and comfortless after the bright cheerful
vales of the Marsi and Peligni: so I hired a man and mule to convey me
and my roba, to Monte Nero D’Omo, a town about twenty miles off, whither
Don Saverio de’ Tommasis, whom I had met at Magliano, had invited me.
eG
astellum Caracenorum. Cramer, ii, 228.
“By 1 PPTL.
HELI
Ip ep Tes Ty! ;
99
Our route lay along the banks of the Sangro, through a low close valley,
by shady slopes of young oak, marked by no feature of striking interest.
Towards noon, a long and bare ascent brought us to Pizzo-ferrato, (in the
or Abruzzo Citeriore,) when we were glad to take shelter
province of Chieti,
during a violent storm of hail and thunder. It is a most romantic village, (con-
taining about one thousand inhabitants,) at the foot of an isolatec rock crowned
country
by a convent; nothing can be wilder or less interesting than the treeless
immediately around this place, nor more superb than the endless view over
ridges of purple hills crowned by little towns, forming, as it were, a continuous
plain down to the shores of the Adriatic. (See Prats XXVI.) In little
more than another hour’s walk we reached the brow of a hill, whence the
prospect is yet grander than that we had left. Monte Nero dOmo, a com-
pact, modern-looking town, was on our right, and the district o Laneciano, as
far as the bright blue Adriatic, before us; while the left is shut in by the
enormous Maiella,* whose summit was already covered with snow. The circuit
of this great mountain would doubtless well repay the trouble of visiting it in
detail, but such a journey should be attempted at an earlier season of the
year, as the torrents in the ravines of the Maiella are formidable.
The palace of the De’ Tommasis is at the top of Monte Nero D’Omo, the
streets of which town are all flights of stairs, but well kept and clean. The
whole place was in a ferment expecting the return of Don Saverio and his
wife, who had resided in the Marsica for two years, and their arrival took
place just after I had been received in the most friendly manner by his family.
ions and
Great was the ringing of bells, the clamour of the people, the proc
the drum-beating, and the rushing forth of the whole town to welcome their
landlord.
The evening’s entertainment was rather plentiful than soignée, but the
family, though homely, was a friendly one.
September 28rd, 18438. I returned to Pizzo-ferrato to draw it, and I
went on to Gambarale, a picturesque place, but frightfully bleak and desolate.
In the afternoon I drew Monte Nero D’Omo, as far as the immense extent of
* The Maiella is celebrated for the production of medicinal herbs, &e. Tenore. Viaggio in Abruzzio
Citeriore.
100
view permitted; the sunset over the Adriatic, and the lighting up of the
gigantic Maiella were gorgeous. But, besides being rather weary of wandering
about alone, I found the cold at these great elevations very unbearable, and
I determined to omit much of the Chieti province, which is not so adapted
for drawing, and to give more time to parts of the Marsica which I had
not yet seen.
September 24th, 1848. I had not intended to start till to-morrow, but
the clouds on the Maiella decided me on endeavouring to reach the coast
to-day, having a deep-rooted fear of being detained by ten days of stormy
weather, which might render travelling impossible here: whereas, once in safety
at Chieti, roads either to Rome or Naples are always available. So I wished
my good-natured hosts adieu, and with my guide and mule began the descent,
through potato-fields without end, that vegetable being the great commodity of
Monte Nero D’Omo. After passing the village of Torricella, we arrived by
steep and slippery paths of clay, (for it had rained all night,) at Gesso di Pa-
lena, where a great fair was being held; the place was alive with people, and
the drums and bells highly distracting. I purchased a luncheon of two loaves,
and more grapes than it was possible to eat, for three grane, and was glad
when I had threaded the closely packed crowds, intermixed with sheep, pigs,
and Jaden mules. All the people appeared a civil race: the men wore the
most pointed hats I had observed in these districts.
Casoli, a town I should much like to re-visit, on account of its grand situa-
tion, was the next place we reached, and then we descended to the ford at
the river of Palena, a broad stream which flows into the Sangro, whose course
to the Adriatic is marked by a distant line of white stones. Beyond this
the country grew more cultivated and less picturesque, and we crossed a wi ary
series of corn-hills to Sant? Eusanio, the fourth town in our day’s ramble,
and thence we ascended and descended continual undulations like those of
August (see page 35), till lo! the distant outline of the Gran Sasso
projected beyond the receding Maiella. Hereupon began a different world,
for the district of Lanciano is a great garden, and after the cold mountain
atmosphere all seemed delicious sunshine and warmth: the fig and the vine,
and fruit-trees of all descriptions, were on either hand in great luxuriance,
101
and everything seemed brilliant and flourishing as we came to the gates of
Lanciano, anciently Anxano, and capital of the Frentani.* The entrance to
the city is highly picturesque: a deep fosse surrounds its towered walls, and
the plain beyond with the remote Monte Corno are exquisitely beautiful.
The great charms of Lanciano are for the architect; the facciate of two
venerable Gothic churches have been frequently drawn, but the pride of the
modern inhabitants of the city is the Cathedral, or Santa Maria del Ponte,
built on a great bridge crossing the ravine which surrounds part of the walls.
For the rest, Lanciano is clean and well-paved, and the walls and out-skirts
abound with scraps and picturesque morsels.
The padrone of the Locanda to which I went dared not receive me with-
out my passport being first examined, so I was obliged to present me at the
house of the Sindaco, who was sitting in a room full of people, before which
assembly I had to give an account of myself. These people cannot imagine
one’s motives for travelling to be simply the love of seeing new places, &c.;
and the more one strives to convince them that it is so, the more certain are
they that one has other designs. “ Dove vai!” they scream out, if one goes
but a foot’s length out of the high-way to seek a point for drawing. )
After this public examination I was purified in the eyes of the city, and
fearlessly received accordingly by Vincenzo Montarelli, a civil fellow, whose
Locanda was tolerable, and his dinner excellent, especially in the article of
wines and fruit; for the melons and grapes of Lanciano are famous in the
Abruzzi.
September 25th, 1843. To Lanciano I could devote but one day, which
was a cloudless but a cold one, and I chose to spend it in drawing the view
from the walls, and in wandering about the neighbourhood, which contains
many pretty features. By good fortune I had a letter to Don Vincenzo
Coletta, Sottintendente of the Distretto, an agreeable person, who has two
charming and intelligent daughters. They very good-naturedly invited me to
the opera, where Sappho was very well performed; so the evening passed
away merrily enough.
* Oramer. Also written Anxia, and Anxa. Cramer, ii, 256. The modern Lanciano is said to be
famous for tortoises and truffles. Pachichelli, iii. 9.
September 26th, 1843. My wish was to reach Abadessa, (one of the
Greek colonies settled in Southern Italy,) by sun-set, a long journey of about
thirty-five miles; but my guide Basilio, of Monte Nero D’ Omo, who was
well acquainted with the country, warranted my arrival there. I reserved a
possibility of halting at Chieti.
The day was very hot, and the ascent to Frisa, and thence through mo-
notonous cultivation, was tedious: the lessening Maiella and distant Corno,
were the only hopes of the landscape. Beyond Frisa, the ups and downs
were equally tiresome: one of the ravines was full of ruined Masserie, cot-
tages, gardens, &e., an earthquake in the preceding January having shaken a
great tract of the higher ground into the vale below.
After many clay ravines, and sluggish streams to ford, and a great ascent
from one of these hollows, we reached Tollo, a very clean looking town, but
containing no Locanda, or hope of refreshment, although the country round
was fertile in figs and vines which hung in the most tantalizing manner over
the well-kept hedges. At noon we arrived at Miglianico, where a wretched
little Osteria was our halting-place; and dry figs, bread, and vino cotto all we
could obtain as lunch. This seems curious in so rich a district as that
through which we were passing, but it is the habit of the few persons who
travel in this country to carry their own food with them.
Chieti seemed as difficult of access as on August Ist. and I resolved
during the ascent not to enter it, but skirting its walls, descended into the
valley of the Pescara, which I reached late in the afternoon, and after long
waiting, (for the ferry was occupied by a suce
ion of large market parties,)
crossed the river into the Province of Abruzzo Ulteriore Primo, and took the
route to the left. Four or five miles brought us to Cepagatta, an inconsider-
able town; and two more to a quiet little vale of oaks, above which the
church tower of Abadessa peeped humbly forth. While ascending to the
town I was struck by the appearance of what I thought a group of Turks,
but who were really women of Abadessa in their costume, which they have
preserved, though the Albanese men dress like ourselves in dark cloth, &e.,
and only retain the long moustache as a national characteristic. The costume
of the women of Abade:
a is a white skirt, with a light-blue striped apron
Fava Vv
Ye Bp eT y
103
before, and an apron-like addition behind of woollen material, worked in a
chequered pattern, usually of purple and red, or black and red. The vest
is white with an embroidered sleeve and front. A red handkerchief is worn
on the head.
ME OF THE WOMEN OF ABAD.
Some account of the settlement of various colonies of Greeks in the
kingdom of Naples, drawn from Giustiniani’s Dizionario,* may be interesting :
The first migration was of Albanians, and took place about 1450, under
Alfonso of Arragon, who had assisted Giorgio Castrioto, (Scanderbeg,) when
besieged by the Turks; several families sought shelter, and established them-
selves at that time in the Kingdom of Naples.
The second was under the succeeding monarch, Ferdinand, when in reward
for assistance rendered to that King by Scanderbeg, several cities were granted
to him; and numerous Albanian families left their own shores in consequence,
establishing themselves in Castelluccio de’ Sauri, (in Capitanata,) Campo
Marino, &c., &c.
The third took place in 1497, after the death of Scanderbeg, when Gio-
* Giust. vol. x. p. 191.
ra
=
104
vanni Castrioto his son, accompanied by many Albanians, fled to Italy from
the oppression of the Turks. The Prince of Bisignano, who possessed great
territory in Calabria, married Elena Castrioto, and nearly all the Greeks scat-
tered throughout the Kingdom followed them to Calabria, and settled there,
founding many towns, seven of which are in Calabria Citeriore, and twenty-
seven in Calabria Ulteriore.
The fourth colony passed from Greece in 1534, during the reign of the
Emperor Charles the V., from Corone, a city of the Morea, attacked by the
but liberated by Andrew Doria, who gave the fugitives his protection
as far as to Italy, where they settled in various parts of Capitanata, Basili-
cata, the Diocese of Benevento, &c.
The fifth migration was in 1647, under Philip IV., from Maina; most of
the emigrants fixed themselves at Basile, in Basilicata.
In 1744 the sixth occurred, during the reign of Carlo Borbone. Aba-
dessa, a royal property, in the Province of Abruzzo Ulteriore Primo, was given
the settlers as an abode.
A seventh migration of Greeks also took place a few years later, and who
established themselves in Brindisi.
These people are variously known as Albanesi, Greci, Coronei, Epiroti or
Schiavoni. Some also settled in Sicily. In the Regno di Napoli, they
founded forty-three towns.
had
Don Costantino Vlasi,—a sharp little man, to whom the De’ Tommasis
given me an introduction, as the principal proprietor of the place, was sitting
outside the little town when I arrived; he took me to his house immediately,
an uncomfortable windy tenement with many little rooms. Don Costantino
‘Greco, as he is called by the Italians, is a widower with five children,—
Dons Pietro and Antonio, Donnas Irene, Anna, and Maria, the last of which
young ladies, having a headache, was in bed, where, however, I was taken to
visit her without any hesitation. Donna Irene was the delle of the family, and
was really the only handsome female I saw in the whole settlement; for
though the Greek nose and forehead were very observably marked in the face
of almost every individual, yet none were strictly beautiful, perhaps because
their doing all the work, while the men carry on the life of sportsmen does
not contribute to the delicacy of their complexion
105
The endless interrogations of this worthy family put my good breeding sorely
to the test; but the wish to oblige was there, though the delicacy of my
Marsican friends wa
wanting. During supper, whenever the children spoke
Albanese, they caught a reproof and sometimes a thump from Don Costantino.
In the course of the evening a blind young man came in “per veder U Inglese,
and eventually sung twenty interminable verses of a Greek song about the
battle of Navarino. When the family separated for repose, Don Constantino
and a very old and hideous female domestic followed me into my chamber,
the latter of whom proffered her services to “spogliarmi,” which offer I respect-
fully declined, though she again entered to tuck all the sheets round the bed,
an operation I could not prevent as the doors of all the rooms were open, but
was thankful when it was concluded.
September 27, 1843. Coffee was brought to everybody in bed by the
same unpleasant Hebe whose affectionate attentions I had so ill received on the
preceding night: her amazement and that of the rest of the family at my
ablutions were amusing.
After drawing the town, (see Prars XX VII.) I was taken to call on Papa
Gregorio Callona, their priest and village schoolmaster, a very gentlemanlike
man, with a magnificently long grey beard; he shewed me the church, a plain
unornamented edifice, and then his little school, where I sat with him some
time over some good café. The children of the upper classes are taught ancient
Greek and Latin as well as the Albanese dialect and Italian, but the lower pea-
santry talk Albanese and Italian alone. (“ Quando vogliono farsi capire,’—said
my guide of yesterday—* parlono come Cristiani: ma fra loro come diavolt.”)
I observed in Papa Gregorio Callona’s little library, besides the old Greek
Classics, the Bible in Greek and Albanese, Rollin’s History, &e., &e. He
informed me that he was of a good family in Candia, but had been obliged
during the last wars with the Turks to leave his country, and seek refuge in
this settlement, where he had accepted the charge of Pastor and Instructor.
Late in the afternoon I left the famiglia Viasi, and started for Citta di
Penna, with an ass for my luggage, and a most tiresome Greek who equally
merited the name by never ceasing to ask me questions as absurd as wearisome
Pp
106
T was glad to see Citta di Penna under its mountain wall, and we arrived
there before sunset, the same golden purple over the many hills towards the
Adriatic—the same dark blue of the Gran Sasso,—and the double files of dark
draped ecclesiastical students walking up the steep brick-paved streets, much
as on the evening of August 1st, though my reception at night was different,
and I went at once to good quarters at the Casa Michelloni.
“ E morto il vostro compagno,” said the foolish D. Giuseppe Michelloni;
the son of my landlord,—an abrupt announcement, which startled me not a
ittle: and in order to ascertain the truth, I went at once to the Baron
Aliprandi, at whose house I was told I should find our old friend D. Andrea
Giardini. I was right glad to see the little Syndic again; and I learned
from the Baron, (who with the Baroness and a large poodle, were the
equally uninteresting inhabitants of a prodigiously grand Palazzo,) that a
forastiere was said to have fallen down the cascade of Terni, and therefore
he “ supponeva,” it must be my friend, by which lively supposition, (and there
was no better foundation for the report,)—my mind was very much relieved,
and I returned to my supper at Michelloni’s with a cheerful mind. But the
spacious room we enjoyed at our first visit was now hired by an avvocato;
and, although the good people of the house insisted on my occupying one of
their own apartments, it was by no means so comfortable, there being a hole
in the door, by which a variety of cats ran in and out all night long, while
two turtles remained stationary on the top of the bed, moaning dismally.
September 28, 1843. Cloud and wind: it was impossible to hope for
such continued good fortune in weather much longer; yet I had time to
draw the town before it began to rain, (though much teased by a concourse
of admiring people,) and the rest of the day I was fully occupied within
the walls. Turkeys! turkeys!—there are turkeys on all sides, wherever you
a
valk in the province of Teramo, which supplies many of the markets, both
of Rome and Naples, with those birds.
Don Andrea Giardini shewed me the whole of the Palazzo Aliprandi, a
noble mansion, full of old furniture, chairs, tables, mirrors, frames, &c., some
of which, of carved oak, were remarkably handsome. We also saw several
10%
other palazzi; but some of the finest are partly closed and their owners
exiled on account of recent disturbances in the district.
“ Volete veder certi ritratti dei Re Inglesi ?” said some persons to me, as I
was loitering in the Piazza awhile before Ave Maria; so I followed my
friend to the Casa Forcella, where the Marchese or his brother, (one of
them is in exile,) fairly astonished me by the display of a collection of ori-
ginal portraits, all of the Stuart Family; Charles I. and II.; James II.; the
Pretender, Charles Edward; Duchess of Albany; and Cardinal York; the four
last in all stages of their lives; most of these were ,miniatures and well exe-
cuted, though carelessly preserved. There was also an old harpsichord which
had belonged to the late Cardinal,—* sommamente armonioso,” according to
Gentile, (a statement which, seeing it had no chords, I cannot confirm,) and
against the wall hung a long pedigree of the Nortons of Grantley, one of
whom, said my friend, “é wna zia mia, e sta presentamente, (vecchia pero,)
vicinissimo a Northampton ossia Nottinghamshire.”
These reliques of our Monarchs (the last curiosities one would haye
searched for in the town of Citta di Penna,) had passed from the late Car-
dinal York, Bishop of Frascati, by bequest to the Forcella, a female of that
family having been about the person of the Countess of Albany.*
September 29th, 1843. This day I purposed to devote to Atri, (the
ancient Hadria,)’ whose tall towers, on a long ridge of hill, one never loses
ight of in the neighbourhood of Citta di Penne. The clear sun-rise was
soon overcast, and clouds foreboded rain as I walked, with the Syndic’s groom,
our old guide, to S, Angelo, over hills of clay, and through fields of stubble
blackened with flocks of turkeys, fording three rivers before we arrived at
the foot of the high hill on which this ancient city, now one of the many
fallen and desolate, rears its neglected walls. Some Cyclopewan remains are
near the entrance of the town, but alas! before I reached them it began to
rain apace, and a September rain in these lands is a formidable matter: yet
as far as I could judge, the walls seemed picturesque, and the view over
the Adriatic and the Province of Teramo is most striking.
* Gentile. Quadro di Cittd di Penna. » Cramer, i. 290.
| 108
The streets are particularly ill-paved and narrow, but some pretty Gothic
vestiges caught my eye,
The Cathedral of Atri would well repay the trouble of a visit to an archi-
tect: it is one of the most perfect Italian Gothic buildings I have seen in
the Abruzzi, and its interior remains unchanged, a rare circumstance. The
Apse is covered with paintings in fresco, the date of which, as far as the
little experience I have of such matters goes, may be the thirteenth or four-
teenth century, and the whole of the walls have been similarly adorned, though
j age and damp have obliterated the greater part. A curious Baldacchino of
()
carved-wood is also worthy of notice.
There was, however, little time for examination, nor could I either procure
1 . ake . .
any drawing of the town, or visit the celebrated Latomie, or caves near it;
owing to the heavy rain which continued to fall, and which obliged us to hasten
homewards, as the rivers which take their rise in these mountains often become
so suddenly swollen, as to render all progress impossible. Some beans and
NH : AS
i bread had been the only refreshment I could obtain at a very poor Osteria
H in this most forsaken city, so that I recommenced my walk by the yawning
i clay abysses which seam the hill-side, with a strong conviction that my visit
to ancient Hadria had proved a failure. By Ave Maria, I had again reached
Citta di Penna, after a really fatiguing day’s ex pedition.
September 30th, 1848. The clouds still hung heavily on the mountains,
own at the foot of the Gran Sasso,
but I decided on starting for Isola, a little t
the monarch of the Abruzzi, with which I longed to have a closer acquaintance.
I left Citta di Penne early. The whole of my day’s journey was close to the
of the Abruzzi 1° and 2° Ulteriori,
igh mountain-range, dividing the provinces
and did not present any particular point of interest; nor, excepting Bacucco
i and Colle d’ Oro, were there any towns or villages in our day’s route, which
| ay among low wooded hills, overlooked by the dark-topped mountains beyond,
or crossing the bed of streams which in winter must be formidable torrents.
Towards evening, by paths winding through beautifully wooded landscapes we
I reached Isola, which stands on a peninsula formed by two rivers that nearly
| surround it. It is an exceedingly pretty place, and immediately above it rises
i
I}
(h
i
|
1]
i
H
te 28
Plat
FS
‘3
to)
a3)
re
a
fe)
gq
109
the single pyramid of Monte Corno, the Gran Sasso, a most noble back-ground.
(See Pratt XXVIII )
Don Lionardo Madonna, to whom I had a letter, was extremely shy anc
uneasy, and seemed to think I might be a Bolognese rebel escaped over the
frontier, until I relieved him by proposing to go at once over the Gran Sasso
to Aquila, rather than await the risk of another fall of snow, which woul
block up the pass, and oblige me to return to the coast. This pass imme-
diately over the shoulder of the mountain, is closed, except during the hot
summer months, when it is used by the people of Teramo as the most direc
road to transport the produce of their province, (wine and oil,) to Aquila.
Don Lionardo having illness in his own house, found me a lodging in a very
unhappy-looking building, within whose forlorn walls I was nevertheless, after
drawing the town, most glad to take shelter by a good wood-fire, for the even-
ing was bitterly cold.
An old woman, Donna Lionora, (who like many I had observed in the
course of the day, was a goitreuse, ) cooked me some beans and a roast fowl ;
—but the habitation was so dirty and wretched that one had need have had
a long journey to provoke any appetite. While I was sitting near the
chimney, (it had the additional charm of being a very smoky one,) I was
startled by the entrance of several large pigs, who passed very much at their
if so it were called—and walked into the apart-
ease through the kitchen,
ment beyond, destined for my sleeping room. “ Sapete,—che ci sono entrati %
porchi?” said I to the amiable Lionora. “Ci vanno a dormire” quoth she,
nowise
moved by the intelligence. They shan’t sleep there while Tm in the
house, thought I; so I routed them out with small ceremony, and thereby
gave great cause for amazement to the whole of the family. “FE matto,”
suggested some of the villagers sotto voce. “ Lo sono tutti, tutti, tutti,” re-
sponded an old man, with an air of wisdom, “ tutti gf Inglesi_ sono matti,” an
assertion he clearly proved on the ground that the only Englishman who had
ever been known to visit Isola (several years previously,) had committed four
frightful extravagancies, any one of which was sufficient to deprive him of all
claim to rationality, viz.; he frequently drank water instead of wine; he
more than once paid more money for an article than it was worth; he
and he always washed
persisted in walking even when he had hired a hors
110
himself “si,—anche due volte la giornata!” the relation of which climax of
absurdity was received with looks of incredulity or pity by his audience.
October 1st, 1848. The Gran Sasso was perfectly clear, but his furrowed
sides were covered with brilliant snow. No mules were to be had, for they
had all gone to Aquila, to carry wine; but Don Lionardo Madonna informed me
that there should be one at my service by eventide, and that if I set off
after midnight I could accomplish the journey to Aquila in about thirteen or
fourteen hours of diligent walking. I resolved, therefore, as there was little
to interest me in the town of Isola, to pass my day quietly in the mountain.
What a scene of grandeur is that around Isola! The dark forest-clad
slopes of the surrounding mountains contrasting with the brilliancy of their
snowy tops, and these again backed by the cloudless blue of an Italian sky !
The murmur of the two neighbouring rivers rolling over their stony beds in
the deep valley beneath, or, from time to time, the remote and trembling
notes of the Zampogna
are faintly heard.
The sun sinks below the Gran Sasso, and only the silver lines of snow
shine out from the deepening blue. The night-grasshopper begins her one
low note: it is time to end my hill-ramble, and descend to Isola.
Before I return to my charming home, I am careful enough to buy a large
hen for fifteen grane, which with a bottle of wine twenty-nine years old, the
gift of Donna Lionardo Madonna, is to support me through the morrow; and
Nicodemo, my destined guide, is also well cautioned to be in readiness at an
early hour,
October 2, 1843. About three hours after midnight we set off, and as the
light grew, the dark Monte Corno towering above us became every moment
co) o fe)
more magnificent. We journeyed on through a vale of fine oaks by the
side of a river, and the scene reminded me of many a park in England. By
sunrise, when the cold grey eastern side of the mountain glowed at once like
a mass of ruby, we had mounted as far as the little village of Fano, beyond
which we again crossed the stream we had so long followed, and rose rapidly
* Zampognari, or Pifferari, are the shepherds or bag-pipe players, see page 10.
THEE
by steep chalk-paths through beautiful forests of tall beech for three or four
hours, and a more magnificent ascent I never enjoyed.
Three-parts of the way up, Nicodemo and I made our pic-nic breakfast,
and then proceeded on our way over dazzling snow, but under a clear sky
and warm sun. At length we reached the top of the pass, and bade adieu
to the view towards the north, over the province of Teramo, which was more
remarkable for extent than beauty. We exchanged it for a quiet plain, like
that we had crossed on August 3rd, bounded by high walls of rocky hill,
beyond which the snow-topped blue Maiella and dusky Morrone reared their
distant heads. Long droves of jetty sheep were filing away to their winter-
quarters in Apulia, (see page 9) and a few screaming falcons wheeled and
soared above them. The tranquillity of these elevated pastures is extreme,
and I well enjoyed a quarter-of-an-hour’s rest by the side of a clear fountain.
Then we began our climb over the wall of this oasis, and at its summit
the mountain map of the Abruzzi was again at our feet. A tedious coasting of
hill, and a long, long descent down the steep face of the mountain, occupied
three hours, when we arrived at Assergi, a little town with ruined walls, and a
castle commanding a protracted and extremely narrow valley, the path through
which leads by the side of a stream bordered with poplars to Paganica,
another town in the great vale of Aquila, some two hours’ walk from that
city, which I reached about sunset. Here, at the previous invitation of Prince
Giardinelli, I went straight to the Jntendenza, and was sorry to find the In-
tendente suffering from severe illness) We had nevertheless an agreeable
party in his rooms after supper, and little Donna Caterina was full of the
wonders of Rome, from which she had just returned. I was also glad to
find a letter from K., who happily had arrived safely at Tivoli, instead of
having fallen down to Caduta delle Marmore.
October 3rd, 4th, and 5th, 1843. These days were passed in Aquila,
where the air was now exceedingly cold, and its deserted streets seemed no
livelier now that I walked them alone. Neither was there much gaiety at
the Jntendenza, for Prince Giardinelli was constantly ill, though he held
levées every evening in his bed-room.
I made some drawings of Aquila, which it was not very easy to accom-
plish, partly because the great extent and scattered appearance of the city
are obstacles to a general view of it, and partly because the hours of repast
i
oii
i)
ti
VW
iit
| i
|
hii
I SANTA 1 A IL
Mi aut the Palace interfered with the execution of much work. The best views
Hl Il
Hi may be obtained from the Madonna del Roio, and from the convent of San
| i Giuliano.
}
\
: |
)
HY
f
wh | * This vignette represents one of the many old houses in Aquila remarkable for the variety of their
Gothic windows, &e.
October 6th, 1843. After mid-day I set off to Montereale, as I wished
to see the Amphitheatre of
sion either to lLionessa or
Amiternum, and, if possible, to make an excur-
Amatrice from M*. Reale, where a brother of
‘av. Ricci of Rieti, to whom I had letters, resided.
About two or three miles from Aquila a good carriage-road leaves that
which goes through Antrodoc
to the village of San Vittc
Sabine city of Amiternum.
Of this important place,
o to Rome, and leads by uninteresting country
yrino, the modern representative of the ancient
though many remains of aqueducts, substruc-
tions, &e., &c., are to be traced, the ruined walls of an amphitheatre stand-
ing on the plain, are the mc
torino, a mere hamlet, occu
the ancient citadel; and the
posed of fragments of inscrip
The mountains beyond Ac
ternum, but the general effect
After pursuing our road
ost conspicuous vestiges. The modern San Vit-
pies an eminence that was perhaps the site of
campanile of its church is almost entirely com-
tions found in the neighbourhood.
uila are a fine background to the view of Ami-
of the scene is barren and melancholy.
below Pizzoli and Barete, two thriving villages
profuse in scattered white villas, and having wound through a pass, we arrived
in sight of some very prettily oak-wooded hills, and went through Marano,
a town with something of the air of a Swiss village, whose wooden galleries
were loaded with bright bunches of Indian corn exposed to dry. The branches
of the Almond trees, which are plentifully cultivated hereabouts, are also
similarly decorated.
Beyond this, though with an interval of more dreary road, Montereale
appeared on a rather imposing hill, overlooking a semicircular plain, the moun-
tain sides of which are studded with numerous little villages, near one of
which, Mopolino, the Palazzo of D. Celestino Ricci gleamed forth with a
welcome brightness in the setting sun, and I was glad when I had passed
over the dull meadows betwixt it and Montereale, though, as a secluded plain,
it is not wanting in character or beauty: the pointed head of the Gran
Sasso, which I recognised as an old friend, rose above the hills on its east
side, while, looking westward, the solid wall of the mighty Terminillo or Lion-
essa mountain shut in the view.
Q
114
The town of Montereale is not of ancient date. It was one of the con-
temporaries of Aquila, and was frequently involved in quarrels with that tur-
bulent city. In the fatal earthquake of January 14th, 1703,* it fell entirely,
and the surviving inhabitants founded dwellings, or retired to villas on the
hill sides around the plain, which have now become each the centre of a
village, while the mother-town of Montereale remains in a decayed condition,
scarcely containing seven hundred inhabitants.
Ere we reached Catignano, the village near which Mopolino stands, we
overtook Don Celestino Ricci, to whom I presented my letter, and was received
with all possible cordiality. His villa, or palazzo, is a spacious country man-
sion, with garden-terraces after the true Italian mode, very pretty, though want-
ing in that nicety of order so necessary to our English ideas of taste and
LINO.
comfort. The mistress of the house, a lady-like and handsome person, usually
called La Principessa, was one of the Pallavicini, and narrowly missed inheriting
the great estates of that family near Rome, which for want of male heirs, have
now become the property of the second son of the Rospigliosi. The inte-
rior of their house is comfortably, though not luxuriously, furnished; the bed-
room allotted to me was ornamented with excellent prints from the works
of Raffaelle, Thorwaldsden, &c., &c.; and the bright moon silvering the waters
of a fountain just below my window, contributed to make it a very pleasant
lodging.
* Geo. Baglivi, Dis. p. 350.
115
There was a late family supper, at which the three children of Don
Celestino, and one of his brothers, were present. My host was very full of
information and good-humour, and my new friends impressed me very favorably.
Both Don Celestino and the Principessa were very full of the praises of
the present Duchess of Hamilton’s singing, the Duke having formerly passed
si, where the Princes family then resided.
a winter in the Palazzo Rospigli
October 7-8, 18
very little variety in the quiet routine of domestic life, a good library of
3. I lingered two days at Mopolino; although there was
old Italian works, music, and the three merry little children, with their great
white dog, Dragonazzo, were sufficiently amusing, and the hospitality of both
host and hostess was very simple and charming. The Ricci, who possess a
great part of the plain about Mopolino, have also a casino at Montereale,
where they pass part of the vintage season. We visited the town, the
shattered walls of which are of considerable extent; but at present this
unfortunate place is reduced to a shade of its former prosperity.
October 9, 1848. I determined on leaving the Neapolitan dominions by
way of the Marsica, postponing a visit to Leonessa and Amatrice to some
future opportunity, so by sunrise I was on my way from Mopolino to Mon-
and there the Giudice Don
Hy
tereale, through which it is necessary to pas
Andrea Rizzi, who had to sign my passport, superadded to his duty the
refreshment of some very good cq,
From the ascent above Montereale there is a fine view, and the Gran
Sasso glittered in the sunrise like a crystal pyramid.
The greater part of the day was passed in walking through a succession
of the dullest possible valleys, varied only by the scattered villages of Fano
and Borbona, whose narrow streets are apparently more peopled by curs than
human beings.
At Posta, an ugly little town at the junction of the three mule-tracks
, Montereale, and Antrodoco, we arrived at the course of
leading to Leone:
the Velino, which flows down the pass through which the ancient Via Salaria
eee = er ~ ———— =
/ 116
|| was carried, and as we proceeded the scenery became finer at each step.
i | We had not time, however, to examine the details of the Roman road, for it
| was getting late, but I was soon convinced that this approach to Antrodoco
was far finer than that by which we had visited it on August 5th (see
i page 48). The sun set behind the lofty Terminillo as we passed Sigillo,
| and we followed as quickly as we could the mule track along the precipices
tH} near San Quirico, a ruined convent in the valley near Antrodoco, whose
] castle I was glad to hail once more, as it dimly rose above its gloomy
|
f | fastnesses.
I found a home at the Casa Todeschini, whence I had begun my lonely
| tour on August 13, but the Bagnanti were gone:—no widows—no guitars;
| Antrodoco was shorn of its beams by the finishing of the water-drinking
| season. The Guidice Dei Pasquinis, also, to whom I went for the ever-re-
quisite passport signature, was in bed, and disabled from rheumatism, result-
ing from the damp of Antrodoco, which, indeed, is one of the lowest and
|
most gloomy of places when not lighted up by a bright summer sun.
October 10, 1843. By sunrise I was already beyond Borghetto, and,
| climbing the long, long hill to Pendenza, which overlooks the whole vale of
vii Cutilia to Civita Ducale and the plain of Rieti: Pendenza is at present a
ii poor village, of which the only notice I can find is that it was thought of
| sufficient importance to have been taken and burned by Lalle Camponeschi,
) at the head of the Aquilani, in 1348.*
Thenceforward, throughout a long day’s walk, it is impossible to imagine
scenery of a more charming character: the richest oak and chesnut woods
adorn the beautiful hills along whose sides lay my route, while below me
was a wide valley, with a bright river gliding at the foot of many an emi-
HM nence crowned with its village; on the other side of the vale were the
i} mountains of the Roman territory, fringed with thick forests, glowing with
ry tint of Autumn, stretching away to distant purple hills.
At Staffoli, a ruinous looking town at the summit of a height clothed
hi with fine oak, we began to descend to Petrella, a place of evil fame as the
WMI * Cirillo, p. 33.
iy
seene of the murder of Count Cenci, by his daughter Beatrice—a tale too
well known, and of whose horrors enough may be found either in Shelley’s
tragedy, or Keppel Craven’s tour, to satisfy the curious. Petrella (often
called Petrella del Cicolano, to distinguish it from Petrella in the Valley of
the Liris,) is one of the largest of the mountain villages in this district, and
seems populous and thriving: it stands below a bold rock, on whose brow
are the meagre ruins of the fatal castle where the parricide was committed.
Had I been aware that the spot was associated with such remarkable inci-
dents, I should have made some drawings of it; but, very fortunately, its
beauty induced me to secure a little sketch of its situation.
From Petrella to Colle Sponga, and thence to Mareri, the beauty of the
hanging woods was exquisite, and the descent through magnificent oaks to
the River Turano, which we forded, is really superb. Much of this part
of the day’s walk brought to my mind the scenery in the neighbourhood of
Inverary.
From the Turano, we ascended to the little town of Pace, or Macchia-
timone, the view from which over the Cicolano, is one of the most enchant-
ing I ever beheld. Such glorious valleys of foliage, with rocky village-
bearing knolls, such a panorama of forest scenery: such beautiful lines of
wooded mountains on every side, with Borgocollefegato, Pescorocchiano, and
many other towns of the Cicolano, nestled in their shady dells below :—so
great a contrast to the severe barren scenery of the valleys of Aquila, or
the tiresome cultivation of the district near the Adriatic.
118
Beyond this, after many a long up and down by chesnut-canopied paths,
we struck into a dreary stony tract round the little town of Leofrini, and
it was late ere we descended to the town of Tufo, where the Coletti family
gave me as hearty a welcome as one could wish for.
October 11 to 16, 1843. All these days I passed very pleasantly, but
rather idly, at the Baron Coletti’s. Tufo consists of three villages (the
united population of which may amount to one thousand persons): Tufo Alto,
the smallest, on the brow of a hill; Tufo proper, a clean little town in the
valley, and Villa Tufo, a third hamlet at a little distance. All the terri-
tory belongs to the Coletti, who also hold great possessions at Poggio Cinolfo,
as well as at Castel Madama, and in the Campagna di Roma.
The family house at Tufo is one of the most comfortable throughout the
Marsica, and the whole family (one of whom, the eldest son’s wife, is daugh-
ter of the Ferrante of C. d’ Antina,) are a pattern of the amiable and
domestic. They have some good rooms in their residence, though from havy-
ing been added to at different times, the Palazzo has no pretensions to archi-
tectural beauty; a good private chapel, and a pleasant garden, are part of its
recommendations. Tufo, however, is not well placed as to prospect, or, I
should be inclined to think, as to air, for I found it cold and damp. The
Coletti are the only Abruzzesi I met with who make any approach to
a breakfast, (and, after my stay with them, they always called it “fur
colazione Inglese,”) sitting round a table to a repast of dry toast and café
au lait.
One or two days during my stay were partly unfavourable as to weather,
though, with this agreeable family, the time did not hang heavily, even in-
doors. In the fine mornings, I sketched the town from the chesnut-feathered
hill opposite the house, or visited the little church where many of the
Coletti family are buried, or made ealls on the tenants, &c, &c. One day
I went with Don Raffaelle Coletti to Pietra Secca, a small town two miles
off, placed on a most gigantic rock, whose perpendicular height is as pic-
turesque as fearful. Hundreds of falcons inhabit this stronghold, from the
top of which you may see the cheerful plain of Cavaliere, for it is on the
119
borders of the Roman states. The arciprete of Pietra Secca was a fine old
gentleman, ninety-one years of age, and as active and merry as if he were
fifty.
Another day Don Luigi Coletti and I set out on horses to Valle di Vari,
a great farm, or, more properly speaking, a large forest domain, of his fa-
ther’s, on the ancient possessions of an old Benedictine monastery, where we
had an impromptu lunch in an old casino, and returned by evening to Tufo.
The woods of oak and beech are extremely extensive, but the expense of
transporting the timber through the Marsican district, or the difficulties of
Doganas, towards the Roman frontier, would be so great as to prevent any
repayment of the money laid out in felling it: so the beautiful forests re-
main untouched.
October 17, 1843. The weather had become cold and gloomy at best,
and although I should have liked to have made drawings throughout the
Cicolano, and in the neighbourhood of Carsoli; yet the season was becoming
too far advanced, and, to tell truth, I was rather tired of wandering alone;
120
so I took leave of my kind friends the Coletti, with much regret, and set
out towards Rome.
A. short. walk of four or five miles brought me to Carsoli, by which
town we had entered the Abruzzi three months before, and thence my path
lay across the Pianura di Cavaliere, and up to the picturesque little town of
Riofreddo, the outpost of the Roman States, whence, passports and luggage
being examined, I went on by La Spiaggia and Vico Varo to Tivoli, and
the following morning to Frascati.
The romance of three months’ wandering was finished. To the classic or
antiquarian the ground I had gone oyer is rich in interest. To the landscape
painter certain portions possess great beauty; but the greater part of the
scenery is on too large a scale, and of too barren a character to be avail-
able for the pencil, while much can boast of only cheerfulness of cultivation
as a compensation for downright ugliness. But apart from the agreeable
variety of impressions so many new scenes had left on my mind, the num-
ber of really hospitable and kind people with whom I had become acquainted
will ever be remembered by me with great pleasure; and should I never
revisit this part of Italy, I shall not cease to cherish the memories of my
stay in the three provinces of Abruzzo.
ILLUSTRATED EXCURSIONS
IN
ITALY.
No. III.
IN THE KINGDOM OF NAPLES, 1844.
a ees 26th, 1844. I set out again for the Abruzzi, intending, dur-
ing a stay of two months, to glean much from parts I had neglected, or
had been unable to reach in former visits,—particularly several churches and
convents in the three Provinces, and the country north of Monte Corno to-
wards Teramo and Ascoli. There is a newly-established Diligence to Rieti,
leaving Rome at 5 p.m, and making the journey in ten hours: not a bad
conveyance.
A sultry night, but a bright moon made it pleasant till I fell asleep
among the tiresome hills of Poggio S. Lorenzo ;—at three after midnight we
reached Rieti.
September 27th, 1844.—Set off to Antrodoco about nine, with as little
encumbrance as possible, leaving my “voba”* at the inn in Rieti; my plan
being to return there, thence to make the giro. of the Leonessa mountain,
and so by Mopolino to Amatrice and Teramo, although to do this a passport-
signature at Civita Ducale, the Capo-Luogo of the district, was before every-
thing necessary.
* The word “roba” is a word of wide meaning in Italian conversation: it includes all kinds of
travelling conveniences,—trunks, bags, &e., &c. R
122
— Cattle fair at Rieti, the metropolis of the modern Sabines. All the
roads thronged with sleek gray cattle decked with ribands, and long lines of
peasantry streaming into the city.
A pleasant walk among the cheerful woody hills to the beautiful valley
of the Velino, and before noon tumble-down Civita Ducale was once more
reached.
There was our friend, Don Francesco Console, in the rambling Palazzo, as of
old, though, Prince Giardinelli being now no longer Intendente, his affection-
ate hospitalities were modified into common-place politeness.
A sorry Locanda has been set up of late by some ex-servants of the
Sott-intendenza, in the feeble hope of inducing passengers by the Aquila
road to Naples, to halt there for the night: it consists of an unpropitious-
looking five-bedded room, and a kitchen, in a remote part of a straggling
Palazzo in the High-street, and has a forbidding appearance inside and out,
so that I was glad, after a colazione, (not such a bad one, though the inn
was so uninviting,) and having drawn some Gothic windows, &c. about the
Piazza, to go on my way. Civita Ducale seems more ruinous and deserted,
and helpless than ever, and one feels the lighter on quitting it.
About two I welcomed the fine, but gloomy hugeness of the vale of
Cutilia, and the forlorn church of San Vittorino, nearly surrounded by lakes
and little streams, which are always bursting forth in unexpected spots, to the
great damage of the building, now nearly undermined, and only supported by
props of timber. It is built on the site of the martyrdom of the Saint who
was Bishop of Amiternum during the reign of the Emperor Nerva.
I left the road a mile further on, below the little town of Paterno, to
see its lake, Pozzo di Ratignano, said to be unfathomable,* and called the
centre of Italy, its distance from Ostia being seventy miles, and the same
from the Adriatic.
Numerous remains of Roman work on all sides mark the situation of
Cutilia,° an ancient Sabine city, and in later times greatly frequented for its
mineral waters by the Roman Emperors. Here Vespasian died.“ A large
mass of brickwork on the hill-side is called the ruins of his Palace, or by
some the baths of Titus.
* Del Re, vol. ii. p. > Cramer, Anct. Italy, vol. i. p. 318.
Cramer, vol i. p. 317. # Thid. vol. i. 318.
123
The lake is a sheltered and rather cheerless oval of dark clear water;
Paterno standing immediately above it, with all its olive-slopes reflected
below: the banks nearest the road are flat, enlivened by groups of women
drying hemp, a process best observed from as great a distance as possible, for
the sake of one’s organs of smell.
The Via Salaria passed close by the lake, and Guattani speaks of several
portions of it as in good preservation. J had no time to look for them.*
There is a second little lake close by with deep foliage-covered banks, but
I could see nothing in either of the floating islands mentioned by the
ancients.
As for the third lake, which is on the right hand side of the road as
you go towards Antrodoco, it is only some fifty years old, somebody's vine-
yard having one evening most unceremoniously fallen to pieces with a great
noise, leaving in its place, for the astonished owner, an ugly black chasm full
of water.
At Ave Maria reached Borghetto, and half-an-hour later, Antrodoco The
hill above the town seemed more vast and tremendous than ever in the gray
of evening; no outlet between the fearful walls above and on each side, you
seem to have entered a place beyond which there is no journeying, and from
whose mountain jaws there is no retreat.
The Velino brawling over its white waste of stone; the bridge, and the
narrow streets; and the old dull Piazza with its blue-mantled women flitting
to and fro; and then the Casa Mozetti, to which, there being no inn, I
forthwith went.
* Guattani, v. ii. 2 » See Plate XIV.
124
Don Luigi Mozetti received me with the usual kindness of these good
people, and supper was by no means unacceptable. - Our party was the father
and two sons only, la Signora Mozetti and the other females of the house
becoming invisible after having placed the first dish in form upon the table
September 28th, 1844. By day-break I was above the Castle of Antro-
doco, and on my way to the pass of Sigillo, the most interesting part of
which was to be sketched before returning to Rieti, and that most easily
from this side, since the last few miles from La Posta are far less fine.
All through the sullen valley of San Quirico, the few remains of whose
ancient Abbey are turned into a Vignarola’s dwelling; the vines are thickly
bespattered with patches of lime. This is also the practice all through the
if vale of Borghetto, &c., where the grapes when nearly ripe are sprinkled
with lime to prevent their being plucked by passers by.
| The morning was gray and cloudy; bye and bye it became black and
| grisly, and torrents of rain began to pour; but being determined on my
| object, I walked or ran through the frowning pass as far as Sigillo, where I
ti remained till the rain ceased, and then sketched my way back again.
Sigillo, the ancient Sigillum, six miles from Antrodoco, is a frightful
place: why it was ever built one cannot guess; or why, being built, anybody
lives there. It stands in one of the wildest parts of the pass, (the whole
of which is of the grandest character,) at the foot of crag and precipice, and
is wholly uncomfortable to look at. A few vineyards by the side of the
Velino, goats climbing among the toppling rocks, announce your approach to
habitations—a nest of high-roofed melancholy abodes, in jeopardy from the
mountain above, and the torrent below.
The ancient Via Salaria runs here through the very heart of the moun-
tains, close to the Velino, which rises in the district of ©. Ducale, about
thirty miles above Rieti, receiving twelve streams in its passage from Fano
] and Borbona to Antrodoco.*
Tt is hardly possible to conceive anything more extraordinary than this por-
tion of that great work, the Via Salaria; one while supported by massy stones
Hi * Del Re, vol. i. p. 231. Guattani, vol. i. p. 61. The Velino is called Mellino in several Farfa
HT ih documents.
125
rising from the river’s edge, then carried by the most formidable rocks along
the brink of precipices cut into sheer walls to admit its passage; it zigzags
across the torrent, (the foundations of the Roman bridge alone remain,) runs
giddily at a great height above it, or compels the angry waters into a narrow
channel, by walls yet partly existing after two thousand years of wear and tear
from earthquake and inundation. In some places the course of the old road is
quite obliterated by loose stones which have rolled from the mountains above,
in others, the great blocks which formed its substructions, are tossed about as
if they had been pebbles. Here you follow a narrow mule track over frag-
ments shivered by the fall of some vast mass from an overhanging rock ;
there you cross a little opening, where, through a narrow valley you catch a
glimpse of the lofty Terminillo, or his surrounding heights, already tipped with
snow or folded in rolling clouds; from his sides of many channels in spring
and autumn descend furious streams, blotting out all work of man as they
spread downwards to the rapid Velino, and recording their passage by a deso-
late broad tract of bare white stones.
Of the several cuts in the rock to allow of the formation of the old
road, that about five miles from San Quirico is the most remarkable, being
a perpendicular height of one hundred palmi.* About five feet from the
bottom is a space where, until lately, a tablet remained, with an inscription
of the time of Trajan, which is given below. “This,” says Galetti, “ was
carried to Antrodoco,” but I could not hear of it there.
This gigantic remnant of man’s work in so wild a solitude, has a strange
effect : nor is it wonderful that the peasantry attribute all these stupendous
monuments to diabolical agency: one Cecco di Ascoli,’ a learned doctor and
engineer, who repaired the road under Carlo, Duke of Calabria, is the luck-
* Guattani, vol. ii. p. 267.
» Thid. vol. i. p. 35.— “IMP. CHS. DIVI.
NERVE, F. NER
VA. TRAIANUS
AUG. GERMAN.
DACIOUS PONTIF
MAXIMUS. TRIB
POTEST. XV. IMP.
VI. COS. VIL. SUB
STRUCTIONEM. CON
TRA TABEM MONTIS
FECIT.
126
less mortal charged by popular opinion with having availed himself of such
unhallowed means.
So much for this part of the Via Salaria: it is certainly one of the
most impressive of the Roman roads, from the grand scenery through which
it has been constructed by that wonderful people. Yet I cannot say I was
sorry to be out of it, nor, indeed, to be fairly away from Antrodoco, for
there is something constrained and mournful in the never-get-out-again feeling
those gloomy passes invariably beget; so after an early dinner with the
Mozetti, off once more to Rieti.
Before starting I visited the judge, Dei Pasquinis, whom I had known last
year; he had become a cripple, poor fellow, from constant rheumatism, a
complaint he attributed to the damp of Antrodoco, which, to say truth, looks
as if it never had been, or could be, very dry: putting aside its low situa-
tion, and the want of free circulation of air, the danger to which it is ex-
posed from the frequent and sudden inundations of the Velino, makes it by
no means a desirable residence.
“Mi spinge la curtosita,” said Signora Pasquinis “di sapere per chi porta
lutto?” These people always will know who you are in mourning for.
Nothing particular happened in the walk back, except being wet through
by storms of rain; but at Civita Ducale a three-parts drunken carabiniére
prevented my entering, insisting on knowing my name, which I not only told
him, but politely showed him my passport, which was one from the Foreign
Office in 1837, with “Vis
“Lear” being small, and written. “ Niente vero,” said the man of war, who
count Palmerston” printed thereon in large letters,
seemed happy to be able to cavil, “vot non siete Lear! siete Palmerstoni!”
“No I am not,” said I, “my name’s Lear.” But the irascible official was
not to be so easily checked, though, knowing the power of these worthies, I
“Quel ch’ @ scritto,
”
took care to mollify his anger as much as might be.
seritto 6: dunque, ecco qua scritto Palmerstoni :—dunque siete Palmerstoni voi.”
You great fool! I thought; but I made two bows, and said placidly, “take
me to the Sott’? Intendente, my dear sir, as he knows me very well.”
“Peggio” said the angry man, “tu! incommodare 0 eccellente Signor Sott In-
tendente? vien, vien subito: ti tiro in carcere.”
Some have greatness thrust upon them. In spite of all expostulations,
Viscount Palmerston it was settled I should be. There was nothing to be done,
127
so I was trotted ignominiously all down the High-street, the carabiniere
shouting out to everybody at door and window, “ Ho preso Palmerstoni !”
Luckily, Don Francesco Console was taking a walk and met us, whereon
followed a scene of apologies to me, and snubbing for the military, who re-
treated discomfited.
So I reached Rieti by dark, instead of going to prison.
October 2nd, 1844. After a pleasant stay of three days among the kind
Ricci, Vecchiarelli, &c. I set out at earliest morning from Rieti to enter
the Abruzzi again, Lionessa being my first day’s destination; man, and donkey
for baggage, my companions.
A. gloriously bright day, and clear above, though the plain of Rieti is
now, (as whenever I have crossed it at early morn,) in thick fog, through
which one walks mile after mile without seeing anything but the farm-houses
near the road-side, which are particularly graceful and pretty, and mostly with
picturesque dove-cotes attached.
Everything is rural and tranquil about Rieti; such flocks of sheep and
turkeys—such heaps of yellow gourds at all farm-doors—such groups of pea-
sants going to market, threading the “dewy vale”* by the rapid Turano.
Passed the Fiume Susanna, a reedy stream flowing through a marsh where
bad air abounds; then, leaving Aquileggia on the left, (a little town perched
on a hill, apart,) we came to the Fosso of Vedutri, to the Archpriest of
which town Cao. Ricci had given me an introductory letter, begging him to
provide me with one to Lionessa.
The Fossa of Vedutri is a ravine of bare rocks, through which runs a
stream, and up which you must wearily make your way till you reach Ve-
dutri, an uninteresting, but clean little town at the top of all things.
No end of going up to arrive at the town-gate, by a corkscrew stair-
road, the less pleasant that at every ten paces one encounters a slow
donkey with two large Bigonze full of grapes; if you go inside these you
are squeezed flat against the horrid wall; if you take the outside, your fears
are excited in the most lively manner by the prospect of an immediate fall
down the ravine.
® Cramer, i, 315
128
The Canonico Leoni lives at the top of Vedutri, in a good-looking house.
The Arciprete was sitting in his sanctwm-sanctorum, making out his accounts;
a good sort of old gentleman, though a little partaking in appearance of the
character of the medley of things about him,—literary, domestic, and agricul-
tural ;—bottles, bundles, much linen hanging casually on walls and chairs, books
and papers, tallies or eut pieces of wood to mark the peasants’ work, two
ploughs, baskets, kittens, &, &c., &c. He gave me a letter to the Vicar-
General of Spoleto, in Leonessa, and regaled me with coffee and toast, after
which, while my donkey was refreshing himself, we discoursed on various
subjects, the topic nearest the worthy Canonico’s heart being the loss of in-
come derived from the leeches, for which the lakes of the plain of Rieti
are famous: these lakes are his property, and he had given permission to
a company of Marseillais leech-merchants to come thither a leech-fishing, and
by means of slices of meat and long poles they had left the poor Canonico
leechless: this, he contended, was not a fair way of taking them, the ortho-
dox mode being to sit with your feet in the lake till you catch sufficient.
About eleven, off once more, and now began the ascent of the high range
of mountains forming one side of the Vale of Rieti, and known all over
the Campagna of Rome as, la Montagna di Lionessa,* called so because it
is within the territory of the little City of that name. Much difference of
opinion has arisen among antiquaries as to the ancient name of these high
barriers, the loftiest part of which, Terminillo, is 6567 Paris feet above the
level of the sea; Tetricum, Severus, Fiscellum and the Gurgures mountains
have been by turns considered as the Leonessa range,* though the latter
seem more clearly identified with it; to this day the glens and little plains
among its fastnesses are celebrated for their pasturage.
Winding slowly up the mountain, the view increases in beauty at every
step: the whole vale of Rieti, with its many lakes, the Gorge of Terni, and,
higher yet, the hills of Spoleto and plains beyond. Most delicious was the
pure air, the morning brightne Either to look forward, where the moun-
tain began to be feathered with clumps of noble beech, or back to the long
lines of country, even to Monte Fiascone, was a constant delight. There is
« The mountain of Leonessa forms the background to the view of Rieti. See Plate XV.
° Guattani vol. i © Del Re, vol. ii. p. 233, Cramer, i. 321.
129
a double pleasure in going over ground you have so long known at a dis-
tance only, (for I had drawn the Leonessa mountain continually in the Roman
Campagna, and for years had longed to visit it,) and in finding, step by step,
the real qualities of so old an acquaintance.
Great forests stretch away all over the huge sides of this beautiful moun-
tain, and shelter numbers of wolves and roe-deer. Bears have not been
known there of late years.
What a walk! such rocks and velvet turf! such green hills, crested with
tall white-trunked woods, like those in Stothard’s paintings! Such hanging
oaks, fringing the chasms deep below your path! Such endless flocks of
sheep in the open glades!
At a turn of the mule-path, through a sombre vale, we met a single
capuchin,—the only creature throughout the day,—with a silver white beard
below his girdle: a most merry old monk, who laughed till the tears ran
down his face, because I would make a sketch of him. “ Morrd, morro,
chiuso in un saccoccio! Vado in Inghilterra dentro un libro!” Long after |
walked on, the old man’s noisy merriment showed that his perception of the
fun was undiminished.
Hour after hour followed of park-like wood: the red fallen leaves and
the graystone reminding me of many a spot in old England. (Mem. One
advantage of having a man with a slow donkey—more time for writing notes.)
Towards the back of the mountain, a northern aspect,—shadows and cold wind
prevailed, and dreary barren slopes of rock succeeded to the merry woods :
a long descent brought me at last to the plain of Leonessa, and soon after
to the city itself, than which, at the foot of its finely-formed wall of moun-
tain, few objects are more striking. (See Pate X XIX.)
Leone! (or Lionessa, for the name is spelt in both ways,) seems to have
9
been built about a.p. 1252, under the patronage of the Emperor Frederick IT.
—four towns, according to Guattani* and others, having united to make a
single city. There is little to be found concerning its history. Pachichelli?
and Fra. Lean. Alberti make mention of its strong fortifications, and_ its
® Guattani, i. 235.
» Pachichelli, p. iii, 68. Like many of the towns near Aquila, it had frequent contests with that
city: and about 1450, one Gentile of Leonessa is frequently mentioned as one of Alfonso’s most skilful
generals.
It is situated in the d
stowed it on his daughter Marg:
six villages are depenc
only title to celebrity
130
general splendour, and that it was originally called Gonessa, or La Gonessa.
iocese of Spoleto, and that of Rieti." Charles V. be-
et of Austria, and it possesses one of the
four institutions founded by her for the benefit of poor orphans.” Twenty-
ent on it, or united with it. At the present day its
is in its manufacture of a sort of cream cheese called
cacio fiore, which is very excellent. On the 14th of January 1703, it was
not spared by the ear
hquake, which devastated all the northern provinces of
the kingdom of Naples: all the walls fell, and the greater part of the city
was ruined: one thousand of the inhabitants were killed, and as many severely
injured.© Owing to its situation in two bishoprics of the Ecclesiastical States,
its greater facilities of communication with Rieti than with other towns, and
bY}
{| to the whole of its flocks migrating with their shepherds to the Roman Cam-
i pagna, from October to May, when the country round the Terminillo is deep
@ Giustiniani.
ETRO DEGLI AGOSTINIANI. LIONESSA.
Georgii Baglivi, p. 350.
4
Bie
¥,
Bat
YR PE OTE”
131
in snow, Leonessa, though in the kingdom of Naples, is, in almost all respects
essentially Roman. Shut out from the world by a circle of hills, scarcely
passable in winter, the little city looks forth from her immense mountain
background on her tributary villages scattered below; and a cheerful prospect
it is, though rather chilling, from being so enclosed by lofty heights.
The entrance to the town is by a picturesque Gothic arch, combining
strikingly with the solemn mountain ridge above, and a castle on one of its
lower crags. The streets are narrow and clean, and the look of the place
is rather Swiss or North Italian—roofs steep, &c.,—though some long lines of
convents are quite in the style of Southern Italy, and very beautiful in form.
But little trouble was given me at the Dogana, and so I went to my
host the vicar of Spoleto, a hospitable old man. A lame old lady, his sis-
ter, showed me my room, a place of such combined magnificence and filth,
that I was glad to escape to the town to sketch. There are several
ARIA FUORI DELLA PORTA. LIONI
churches with gothic doorways, more or less perfect; San Pietro degli Agos-
tiniani, date a.D. 1467, and Santa Maria Juori della porta, a.D. 1852, were
1
182
among the most sketchable. But the cold, as evening approached, drove me
back to my host’s house.
The supper would have been agreeable if it had not been for the old
lady of the house, whose conversation was of the oppressive order, being
strictly confined to a detailed description of the dislocation of her hip during
the preceding Autumn, on which unpromising subject she was peculiarly fluent.
The whole account she gave about five times in the course of the evening,
and every time she came to the resetting by an unskilful surgeon, by whom
she was “rovinata,” and “ sagrificata,” she performed what she was pleased to
call the “ strilli e convulsion,’ with so alarmingly natural an effect, that a
huge house-dog rushed wildly into the room in a paroxysm of sympathy at
every repetition, and joined in the chorus, just as, no doubt, he had thought
it his duty to do on the original occasion. As for me I sat grinding my
teeth in patience.
October 3, 1844. The whole of the ear y morning passed in hard sketch-
ing. The inhabitants seem a simple good sort of people.
No man and mule at eleven, as had been arranged on the previous even-
ing, and long waiting ensued, during which they repeated the eternal “ mo,—
mo viene” every five minutes. My hostess also did the “sérilli” once more,
besides telling me all her family affairs, specifying the amount of her dowry,
and recapitulating all the good and evil qualities of her departed husband.
After much storming and entreaty, the mule and man were ready—but not,
alas !
fall.
before two o'clock, though I had wanted to reach Mopolino by night-
There is a grand view of Leonessa, as you leave it towards La Posta, of
which I had had no idea: but there was no time to stop for drawing, and
we hurried along through the majestic pass behind the Terminillo range, whose
sides are here wooded nearly to the summit, until we reached the high ground
above La Posta, whence my old friend the Gran Sasso was seen towering with
all his clouds and snows.
At Posta, the most dreary and dirty of places, the Giudice, to my hor-
ror, was not in the town, so that I could not have my passport signed, with-
133
out which precaution it is a folly to move in ‘these provinces, since the first
gendarme you meet has a right to make you return to your last sleeping place,
if your Carta di Passo be not “in regola.”
On, therefore, I went with trembling for three miles, when I met the
Judge returning, who, with many apologies, caused me to go back with him,
seeing I should surely be stopped at Borbona, the next village. “ L’ inchiostro
ci Vho,” said I.“ Ma al sigillo ci manca,” quoth he—so back I went.
An extra walk of six miles! when one had scant time to reach Mopolino
by dusk, even then!
The Passport being done, and Don Federigo Pasqualucci, the Giudice, hav-
ing regaled me with some vinocotto, (to which a draught of assafoetida would
have been preferable,) on we went again, with an extra guide, for a short cut,
to Fano, by Bacugno, up steep hills, whence were glorious views of Termi-
nillo, as the sun, alas! went down, and along the stupid vale of Fano, with
its scattered hamlets and snapping curs: then came pitchy darkness, and we
felt gropingly our long way up the steep ascent above Montereale.
At the top we went altogether wrong, a matter the more distressing as
the lights of Mopolino were glimmering afar off, before our very eyes. Yet,
if we went forward, we slid into a ravine or a hole, or we sidled into cop
and bushes, or into ponds, or over crags, in a fashion alike destructive to
limbs, patience, and wearing apparel. And this state of things lasted for two
unhappy hours, in the jet-black night; the donkey kept perpetually falling
down, and the guide bewailing the coming certainty of our utter de
by legions of rabid wolves.
After diligent examinings, we somehow struck into a path which led us to
the Capuchin convent, and so to the suburbs of Montereale, whence the
friendly Giudice Rizzi sent a guide with us over the quiet plain to Mopolino.
Though late, nobody was gone to bed. Good Don Celestino and the
Principessa were as cordial as ever, and the comforts of my room were fully
appreciated after the d
ys fatigue,
October 5, 1844. Yesterday passed quietly with the famiglia Ricci, only
leaving the house to go as far as Catignano, an adjacent village, whose church,
134
built on the strong walls of an ancient Benedictine monastery, is very pic-
turesque. To-day I set off at sunrise, with a guide, to Amatrice, intending
to return to Mopolino after having explored those parts. I can only say of the
walk there that it is wofully bare and ugly,—the plain of Montereale, with
hamlets here and there, and a vale of monotony rising to Arrigo, a dirty little
town full of drying Indian corn, and alive with dogs, pigs, and fowls.
Then came more dull valley and a long ascent, at the top of which was
compensation for all in a fine view of the valley of the Tronto, with Ama-
trice on a ridge in the centre. To the left the lofty Sibilla, seven thousand
three hundred Paris feet above the sea,* near Norcia, commands the landscape ;
and opposite are the great mountains of Pizzo di Sega, and Pizzo di Moscio,
of which Fra Alberti says, “ they are too big to be either drawn or described.”
On the whole, from a want of wood, the prospect is rather imposing than
agreeable. (See Puate XXX.)
But after passing Nemici, and crossing the infant Tronto, the deserted
* Guattani, i §
> FL, Alberti, p. 262.
way 2 BP OTT
——————————————————————————————
135
walls of Amatrice, once a considerable city, became interesting on a near ap-
proach; a forlorn mouldering place, wasted by earthquakes and dissensions.
Ill-paved streets conducted me to the Palazzo of Don L. Ameliorati, the
Giudice or Governor (to whom Don G. Rizzi had given me a letter): a
friendly and gentlemanlike man, who sent a servant with me to lionize the
town, warning me to be back in time for dinner.
The origin of the city of Amatrice is attributed, but on no good ground
to the Samnites:* whatever its age, I am not aware of its appearance in
history until the thirteenth century, when it seems to have been the constant
rival of Aquila. I could hear of no antiquities in the place or its environs,
except a subterranean road from the town to the valley, and some remains
of the Via Salaria in the adjacent vineyards. The vestiges of a much more
ancient road, which has passed perhaps from Amiternum to Ascoli, are still,
it is said, to be traced along the high mountains to the east of the Tronto.?
In 1316° the Amatriciani united with the Ascolani to subdue Aquila; but
the Aquilani being strongest, Amatrice was sacked and burned. For this
Aquila was muleted by King Robert in thirty-six thousand ducats, a fine after-
wards commuted to twenty-four thousand. In 1318 a rebellion in Amatrice
incensed the King so much that the Aquilani were ordered to destroy the
city of their old enemies, which by fire and sword they almost utterly ac-
complished, no doubt with a very good will. In 1528 Amatrice was taken
and held by Gian Giacopo Franco, for the King of France, but was retaken
and again sacked by ‘Prince Philibert, under the Emperor Charles V.,’ who
bestowed the principality, in 1538, on Alessandro Vitelli, at which time it
contained twelve hundred and sixteen families. In 1606 it passed by mar-
riage to the Casa Orsini.°
In 1638 and 1703 Amatrice was devastated by earthquake: in the latter
year the greater part of the city was entirely destroyed, and a great portion
of the population perished, many hundreds being buried alive :‘ this calamity
the ruinous walls and churches, and the mournful appearance of the whole
place, sufficiently attest to this day.
At present the population of Amatrice is very scanty, and of a very
2 Del Re, vol. ii. p. 236. » Martelli, vol. i. p. 122. © B. Cirillo, p. 18.
* Pachichelli, vol. iii.
® Giustiniani, vol. i. p. 174. ' Georgii Baglivi, p. 350.
:
y
136
fluctuating character, since the greater part of the men go to Rome as came-
rieri and grooms, while those of the suburban villages migrate annually with
their flocks to the Campagna of Rome.
Forty-five casali, or hamlets, are dependent on this fallen city, whose five
gates, and once strongly fortified walls, yet raise a voice in testimony of its
past importance. It is in the diocese of Ascoli.
NCESCO. AMATRICE.
Amatrice contains several churches of interest; in some of them are paint-
ings by Cola dell’ Amatrice ;* these are, however, mostly retouched, so as that
little of the original remains. The apse of San Francesco is gothic, the rest
modernized: Sant’? Agostino, date 1428; both have gothic doors, but parts of
the facciate have been replaced after the earthquake. Some tall towers, or
campanili, are picturesque, and remind one of Lombardy; that in the market
piazza more so than any.
Returning to the Casadel Guidice, I found a most admirable dinner await-
ing, at which were present all his family, and very nice people they were.
The wines of Capestrano are beyond praise.
All my afternoon went in hard work, interrupted only by being obliged
to visit a miraculous image of great sanctity, which, though only shewn once
a year, they did me the honour, as a stranger, to exhibit to me. My day-
* Gola dell’ Amatrice resided chiefly in Ascoli del Piceno, in the 16th century. Lanzi, History
of Painting in Italy, vol. ii. p. 386.
137
light I wound up by a ramble about the walls and ravine, a joyless wild
sort of scenery, frowned at from a purple cloud, which capped the lofty
Sibilla as the sun went angrily down.
Played till supper time with my host’s merry little children, and the
evening would have ended pleasantly but for rumours of suspected persons
TOWER I
saat sae é aa —
138
having made their way over the frontier, and having been seen near the
town.
A report of two or three frantic Dragons casually supping in the vicinity
could not be half so horrible as that of passportl persons moving about
the Kingdom of Naples, especially when supposed to have escaped from
trouble-brewing Bologna. So the town was alarmed, the rural guard mounted
round it all night, the Judge foreboded, and Signora Ameliorati, having already
a2)
lost some relations in the last disturbances of one of these unquiet petty
places, wept amain during great part of the night.
October 6th—10th. Having changed my first intention of visiting Civita
Reale, the birth-place of Vespasian, I returned by yesterday’s dull journey to
Mopolino. Here, in the vain hope of passing by the Gran Sasso to Teramo,
did I patiently wait through three days of rain and storm: the 10th of
October saw .me on my way to Aquila, having taken leave of the kind and
hospitable Ricci with regret.
All is bustle just now in these parts, as everybody, except the sick, the
aged or infant, among the labouring classes, migrate during this month, to the
Campagna of Rome. On the day of departure the women and children ac-
company the emigrants to some spot near the frontier, where a sort of Bac-
chanalian féfe solemnizes their adiews.
The villages of Marano, Barete, &c., and the classic site of Amiternum
were old acquaintances (see page 113). Aquila, spacious and melancholy, I
reached at sun-set.
October 10th—20th, 1844. These days I passed in Aquila, hoping for
finer weather, now and then tantalized by a day of sunshine, though the mor-
row was surely wet, so that after several disappointments, I finally decided to
return to Rome, leaving the Teramana unexplored, my churches undrawn, and
my good Marsican friends unrevisited. Meanwhile, my luckless stay in
Aquila was enlivened by the kindness of the Ricevitore Generale, Marchese
Spaventa, to whom Don C. Ricci had furnished me with an introduction, and
139
who lionized me all over the city, scarcely leaving a scrap of Gothic architec-
ture unshewn; the church of San Domenico, the barracks on the site of Fre-
deric the Second’s palace, Gothic cortili and houses, Santa Chiara, containing a
i! > g
series of beautiful little paintings on wood, representing the life of the Vi
the beautiful facciata of San Silvestro, the castle built by Charles V., 1535,
and commanding all the city of Aquila, an old tomb of the Camponeschi, and
doors and windows ad infinitum.
Under porticoes or an umbrella I persevered greatly in sketching, and
spite of the rain carried off much of what I wished to possess.
{
140
The Riviera, or great fountain, of Aquila, is curious; it was built in
1272," and is a quadrangular court of red and white stone, surrounded by ninety-
nine little fountains, each, it is commonly said, representing one of the com-
munities which were originally united to form the city. The Riviera is gene-
rally crowded with washerwomen.
i
|
One day, while drawing the church of Collemaggio, I talked with an intel-
ligent Padre Guardiano of the convent attached to it. He informed me that
the painter of the beautiful animal pieces round the walls, (representing the
life of San Benedetto,) was a Flemish monk, Andrew Ruter, a pupil of Rubens.
Here is kept the skull of San Pietro Celestino, secured under eight keys,
* Del Re, vol. ii. p. 149.
141
four of which are in the possession of the City authorit
It is shewn pub-
icly once a year, and has a square hole over the left temple, said to have
een made by the nail which caused his death. That evening, the 11th of
October, was the only very fine one I was so fortunate as to enjoy in Aquila.
As I strolled to the Cappuccini, I thought I had seldom seen a grander
mrospect, overlooking the plain and castle of Ocre, and the vast Maiella
beyond, dimmed by floating clouds. Over all the Gran Sasso reared its
pointed head in perfect clearness.
On the 13th an hour of bright weather tempted me towards Vettoijo,
supposed to be, though on slender grounds, the site of Pitinum.* Wide
flocks of turkeys speckled the plain as they slowly moved on to Rome, from
the districts of Lanciano, Chieti, and Penna. They advance by daily journeys
of eight, ten, or twelve miles. Vettoijo itself is but a mill, near a lake
choked up with reeds, and in a damp hollow, replete with poplars. Above
it is an elevated position, certainly like the site of an old city, with one
solitary ruin, part of a tomb or temple, yet standing. This antiquaries enlist
as a proof of their conjectures, though it looks much like the avanzi of some
Roman villa to inexperienced eyes.
October 14th. The day promising to be tolerably fine, I set out to Civita
di Bagno, proved beyond doubt to be the ancient Forcona by many inscrip-
tions, &c.; a walk, not of the liveliest, leads one to this place in about an hour
and a half? Forcona was the seat of a Bishopric in the early ages of Chris-
tianity: under the Lombards, by whom it suffered greatly, but was not de-
stroyed,° it became the head of a Contado. It has been known as Civita di
S. Massimo from its cathedral, and later it was called Bagno, from a collection
of little villages, the united inhabitants of which may amount to one thousand
or fifteen hundred.* The city of Forcona was, however, fallen, and its popu-
lation removed to Aquila before the fourteenth century.
29
33,
* Cramer, vol. i. p. 338. » Cramer, vol. i. p. 339. Del Re, vol. ii. p.
© Guattani. vol. i. p. 98. * Giustiniani.
}
——EEE = — ———
142
Quantities of brick ruins, scarcely rising above the ground, are scattered
on the hill-side, and all around the desolated church of San Ranieri, which
has been rebuilt from the wreck of the old cathedral. It still has marks of
former magnificence, both in its extent, and in the fragments of cornices, in-
scriptions, &e., inserted in the walls. There is little to interest in the neigh-
hourhood, the view over the plain, with Aquila on its ridge, and the high
boundary wall of Monte Corno on the opposite side excepted.
Then I strolled on through a little village, (where everybody was polluting
he evening air with hemp,) towards the town of Fossa, before arriving at
which, the convent of Sant’ Anna di Ocre provoked me to open my sketch-
00k.
Fos
‘eatures of situation, though not containing any object of particular interest.
is in a secluded nook between high mountains, and has many grand
The modern town stands above the site of Aveia, an ancient city of the Ves-
, e Ves
ini," the ruins of which are widely scattered over the low ground hard by.
A yery learned, but rather dry, dissertation has been written by Signor Gio-
yenazzi,” fixing, most indisputably, the position of Aveia.
Once more I essayed to go from Aquila to Teramo, and had arranged
with a guide to sleep at Pizzoli the first, and at Montorio the
second night,
but lo! when morning came, pouring torrents once more forbade the attempt:
a sad disappointment after spending so much time and money. So not to
be again deluded, I hired a coach at once to Rieti, and proceeded thence
immediately to Rome.
mer, vol i. p. 3.
sila Citta di Aveia ne Vestini. Diss. di V. M. Giovenazzi, 177:
A.
105.
ation of the name ;
Anapussa, 102.
Abruzzo :—deriv
ancient state, 7; modern divisions,
subdivi-
boundaries, population,
sions, &e., 8; general description
of, mountains, m:
&e., 9.
Alba) yea
Niel we
Alfidena, 98.
gration of flocks,
Amatrice, 1835—138.
Amiternum. San Vittorino, 113-138.
Angizia, 20.
Anio, 7.
s of, 48; description,
, 49; return to, 57,
58, 116; third visit to, 123.
Aquila.
Capital of Abruzzo Ulte-
riore Secondo. rival at, histo-
1 notices of, churches, &e. &c.,
40—47 ; return to, 111; third
visit to, 138—142,
Arsoli, 7
Aternus, 33.
Atri, 107.
Ayezzano, arrival at, 14, 73.
Bacueco, 108.
Balzorano, 73
Barete, 113, 1
Bocea di Castelluccio, 79.
Borbona, 115, 124.
Borghetto, 116, 123.
Borgocollefegato, 117.
INDEX.
Calascio, 40.
Camerata, 7,
Campi Valentini, 14, 70, 77.
Canistro, 76.
Capelle, 14.
Capistrello, 76—77.
Cars6li, Carseoli, 10,
Castel di Sangro, 98.
Casoli, 100.
waliere, 7,
Cayamonte, 2.
Celano, 24
castle, 26; second visit to, 77—79.
historical notices of,
Celestino,.5 ; Pope—hist. of, 30—31.
Chieti.
338—34, 102.
Cicolano, the, 9, 117, 119.
Citta Sant "Angelo, 37.
Civita D. Antino, 74, 76.
Civita di Bagno, Forcona, 141.
Capital of Abruzzo Citeriore,
Civita Dt
third visit to,
le, 50 ; return to, 55, 56 ;
Civita Thomasa, 47.
Citta di Penna, 35; return to, 106—
108.
ivitella di Subiaco, 6.
Civitella di Roveto, 76.
Cocullo, 93, 94.
Colle Sponga, 117.
Colonies, Greek, account of, 108-104.
Coll ’Alto, 7.
Corbara del Conte, 60.
Corfinium, 29, 32, 96.
Costumes of the Abruzzi,
86—88, 103.
Cutili
a, 50, 122.
|
|
|
D
«Dies Iree,” the, 26.
E.
Emissario, notices of 18—20.
F.
Fano, 115, 124.
Fossa—Aveia, 142.
Forea Carusa, 20; passages of,
Frascati, 1, 53, 120,
Frezza, 29.
Frisa, 102.
Fucino, Lago di)
Fucinus Lacus J
Description and notices
19, 20; second visit
8,
c:
Gallicano, 2, 3.
Gesso di Palena, 100.
Gioja, 83.
Girano, 6.
Goriano Siculi,
Guadagnolo, 3.
Introdacqua, 95.
Isola, 108, 110.
Lanciano, 101.
La Posta, 132.
La Spiag
Lecce,
Lione
Loretto,
Liris 24, 74—76.
Luco, 21, 73.
Luco, 8. Maria di, 20, 21.
—(Leonessa), 129, 132.
of,
to,
144
M. |
Madonna delle Grotte, 47, 58. |
Magliano, 14, 68—70. |
Marano, 113, 138.
Mareri, 117. |
Marruvium, 80.
Marsi
115.
Mentorella, 4
, country of the Marsi, 14, 60,
Miglianico, 102.
Molise, province of, 8, 98.
Montebello, 38.
Monte Compatri, 1.
Monte Corno, or Gran Sasso, 9,
38, 46, 102, 110—111
Monte Maiella, 9, 28, 100, 102.
Monte Morrone, 30.
Monte Nero d’Omo, 98—100.
Monte Porzio, 1.
Monte Sibilla, 9, 134.
Montereale, 113, 133.
Monte Terminillo, or Montagna di
Lionessa, 9, 128.
Monte Velino, 9, 11, 69.
Mopolino, 113, 115, 132
N.
Nemici, 134.
0.
Oricoli, 7.
Ortona, 84.
Ortuechio, |
Oyindole, 79.
Ie, |
Pace, or Macchiatimone, 117. |
Paterno, district of Avezzano, 24. |
district of Civita Ducale, |
50, 122.
Pedum, 3. |
Peligni, country of the, 28.
|
Pendenza, 116.
2,
Pentima, 29.
Pereto, 7.
Pesear:
‘a, the River, 33.
the Town, 34, 35.
Pescina, 82.
Peseo Canale, 76.
Printed hy S. & J, Bentuey, Witson, and Fir
INDEX.
Pescorocchiano, 117.
Petrella, 117.
Pettorano, 29, 97.
Pianello, 35.
Piano di 5 miglia, 97.
118,
Pizzo di Sega, 134.
rrato, 99.
Pizzoli, 113.
Poggio San Lorenzo, 121.
Poggio-Cinolfo, 7—10.
Poli, 3.
Ponte Santa Margherita, 50.
Popoli, 31, 96.
Pratola, 29.
Rajano, 29, 96.
Rieti, 52, 121—127.
Riofreddo,
Riyasondoli, 9
Rocea di Botte, 7.
Rocca Calascio, 40.
|, 96.
Rocea di Cerri, 11.
u di Corno, 47, 59.
u di Raso, 98.
Rocca San Stefano, 40.
Rocea di Vall ’Oscuro, 97.
Rocca Casale,
Sant ’Anatoglia, 60, 61.
San Benedetto, 80.
San Clemente, monastery of, 33.
Santa Croce, 76.
San Donato, 61, 73.
Sant ’Eusanio, 100.
Santa Maria di Collemaggio, 45.
— della Vittoria, 72.
San Potito, 79.
San Quirico, 124.
San Sebastiano, $4—85.
Santo Spirito di Solmona, 30.
IG
San Vittorino, in the plain of Sol-
—— della Maiella,
mona, 29.
San Vittorino, or Amiternum, 113
138.
LONDON
, Bangor House, Shoe L:
San Vittorino, Chureh of, 122.
San Venanzio, 96.
Seanno, Lago di
— Town of, 86.
—— Foce or Pass of, 91—94.
Scurcola, 14, 69, 71.
Serra di Sant ’Antonio, 24, 74.
Siciliano, 6.
llo, 124.
second visit to
Solmona, Sulmo,
95—97.
, 14,
Staffoli, 116,
Stretti di San Luigi, 93.
Subiaco, 6.
tT
Tagliacozzo, 11; notices of, 18; se-
cond visit to, féte of, 59—68.
Tivoli, 120.
Tollo, 102.
Tor di Passere 33.
Torricella, 100.
Trasacco, 22, 80.
Tronto, the River, 134.
Tufo, 118.
Turano, the River, 11.
the Town, 60, 117.
5i
Val di Roveto,
Valinfreddo,
Valle di V:
Vedutri, 127.
Velino, the River, 49, 115, 123.
Venere, 82.
Vettoijo, 141.
Via Prenestina, 2.
Salaria, 115, 122—126.
—Valeria, 7.
12
Villa Catena, 3.
Vico Varo,
— Santa Lucia, 39.
Villalago, 85, 90—92.
eT EOIILELS
APPEN DIX.
No.1. (see Excursion 1. page 10 )
The following air is generally known as that of the Pifferari, because at Christmas time it
is played on the Bagpipes before the shrines of the Madonna in Rome. The shepherds who per_
form it in that city are most frequently from the neighbourhood of Sora, in the Province of Terra di
Lavoro, but it is in common use throughout all the mountains of the Abruzzi, where I haye learned
it from many shepherds. The first part is usually repeated 4 or 5 times: the last is played but once.
The music of this air is said to be of great antiquity .
ALLEGRO
CON
SPIRITO.
No.2. (see Excursion 2. page 56 )
The following is a song to the swallow much in use among the peasantry:— I learned the notes
at Civita Ducale but they are sung with more or less variation elsewhere.
ALLEGRETTO CON SPIRITO.
pt 4 = ———o e
Wa) T z ra = [Te == | = —~?
7 a a ——— a
r Quanto sei bella Rondinel, _ ~ -la Quan — to a bella Rondi_
ee a Quanto sei bel_la Quanto sei bra_va
a z = } - t =
Sr e = @ @ 3 2
; | | \ ’ | | ; ;
; ' a
i t ec a eee al ec
— = —-e =
— 5 b ] 1
Tu vieni colla rima prima ve-~ - - -fa uan . to sel el _ la
(il P Q j
SS == = —%
SSS =e
\ 4
No.3. (see Excursion 2. page 66)
he following chant, was, as nearly as I can remember, that sung in the Piazza at the Fete of
TVayliacozzo.
ANDANTE ESPRESSIV0.
cones
a ae A = a
le. w+ =
No. (see Excursion 2. page 94:)
Chant sung by the Pilgrims in the Pass of Anversa.
N ae ee
* | | | |
# i = i it Set T =
=< — ise = 2 2 ae
ADAGIO irs =e $85 ia . l= * 33 Li z g :
10N |
CON | | f ‘eae si dim ae a
ESPRESSIONE. (ORFs —= 1 6 = See — ——— oa
Seal” e— | | joe 2
h é z + : ey ! A
=e : Fi —_ = =
<2 - t it o : Ci —
So a ae = Se
dim.
ee 2 eS ae a
——7 — “o = ———
SS St
y d y =
Note This
theet of Music to he purchased seperately of the Publisher.
GETTY RESEARCH INSTITUTE
TT
|
3125
al é
Ved Z bs
CLLLTELLLE, : VEEZLL LL,