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JOURNAL 
 
 a^onr In Ikt^Xn^ 
 
 THE TSAR 1821. 
 WITH A DESCRIPTION OF GIBRALTAR. 
 
 ACCOMPANIED 
 
 WITH SEVERAL ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 BY AN AMERICAN, 
 
 / — ^^ ^ 
 
 I . Aa-OceC ^/ 
 
 
 PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR, BY ABRAHAM PAUIr 
 72 NASSAU-STREET. 
 
 1824. 
 

 Southern District of J\i'ew- York, ss. 
 BE IT REMEMBERED, that on the thirtieth day of March, in the forty-eighth year of the 
 Independence of the United States of America, Abraham Paul, of the said district, hath deposi- 
 ted in this office, the title of a book, the right whereof he claims as Proprietor, in the words follow- 
 ing, to wit : 
 
 "A Journal of a Tour in Italy, in the year 1821, Avith a description of Gibraltar. Accompanied 
 
 ivith several engravings. By an American." 
 
 In conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, entitled " an Act for the encourage- 
 ment of Learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books to the authors and proprietors 
 of such copies, during the time therein mentioned." And also to an Act, entitled " an Act supple- 
 mentary to an Act, entitled an Act for the encouragement of Learning, by securing the copies of 
 Maps, Charts, and Books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein 
 mentioned, and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving, and etching histori- 
 •■al and other prints." 
 
 .TAMES DILL, Clerk of the Southern District of JVezo- York. 
 
XNTTRODVCTIOIf. 
 
 The following work can lay no claim to that degree 
 of literary merit which is usually expected in a book 
 relating to Italy. It is composed of materials collect- 
 ed in the country, and daily noted down : so that in 
 giving to it its present form, it may be said that the 
 author has only expressed in full what was necessa- 
 rily much abridged in his original notes, and recorded 
 those trains of thought which the objects themselves 
 originally suggested. 
 
 The design which has been kept in view in prepa- 
 ring this journal for the press, is, to give a faithful pic- 
 ture of objects which came under the author's obser- 
 vation, and to bring them up in such a manner that they 
 may strike the reader's mind as they at first struck 
 his own. For this reason, the descriptions have been 
 made diffuse, in order to embrace such circumstances 
 as- he deemed necessary to his plan. It may be con- 
 sidered a fault to enlarge so much on trifles ; but per- 
 haps it will be received in palliation, if not in excuse, 
 that they are always the very same trifles which have 
 served to fasten in his mind the more important subjects 
 with which they were connected, and are still strongly 
 and agreeably associated in his memory. 
 
jv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The Author has chiefly to apprehend the criticism 
 of those who have travelled in the country of which 
 he writes ; as they may reasonably look for subjects of 
 a higher nature than the details of every day occur- 
 rences. For travellers, however, the work was not 
 designed; but for those who have no personal ac- 
 quaintance with Italy, and who, after having gathered 
 from other sources the history of the antiquities, 
 arts, and sciences of that interesting country, are dis- 
 posed to enter a little into the examination of things in 
 common life. Persons of this description may look 
 upon this book as a mere journal, in which many old 
 subjects are brought up again to view, but usually 
 among circumstances in which they have appeared but 
 once, and then to the eyes of the author. He has at- 
 tempted to preserve some portion of their original dis- 
 tincness and interest : if he has not succeeded, he 
 must confess that the fault will lie neither with his 
 readers, nor with the scenes and objects themselves ; 
 but in the inadequacy of his language — the feebleness 
 of his pen. 
 
 With regard to the accompanying sketches, they 
 are all copied from original drawings made on the 
 spot, and like the book itself, intended to represent, 
 without embellishment, the subjects to which they 
 refer. 
 
wmmm. iw i^A^m 
 
 We sailed from New-York, on the 19th of October, 
 1820, for Gibraltar and Sicily, intending to travel into 
 Italy, at least as far as Rome, and indulging some 
 undefined hopes of seeing Venice and Genoa. This 
 was an exhilirating prospect, particularly at this sea- 
 son, on account of the difference of climate ; and the 
 political disturbances, which had lately begun in Na- 
 ples and Sicily, promised an unusual variety of inci- 
 dent. 
 
 It must be acknowledged that a voyage across the 
 Atlantic, in a small vessel, is little calculated to che- 
 rish lively and romantic ideas, and it was remarka- 
 bly the fact with us ; for it was a fortnight or more be- 
 fore we could get out of the gulf stream, where we 
 were absolutely beset with cloudy weather, fogs, squalls 
 and gales of wind ; and the remainder of the passage 
 was universally rough and disagreeable. Our books, 
 however, afforded us much amusement, as they related 
 to the part of the world to which we were bound ; and 
 the nautical members of our party in the cabin, were 
 ever ready, with some new tale or device, to amuse us 
 under every unfavourable change of weather. 
 
 GmRALTAR Bay. — JYov, 29. Last evening, having 
 been able to perceive no indications of land, it was 
 necessary to proceed with circumspection, for fear of 
 
(5 VOYAGE TO GIBRALTAR. 
 
 running upon the coast of Africa in the night, as the 
 shore is very bold, and the lead is of course of very 
 little use in the dark. At sun-set we overtook and 
 spoke two brigs, one American, the other English, 
 which were likewise bound up the Straits, and found 
 them in the same uncertainty with ourselves. We all 
 agreed to proceed under easy sail ; and after night 
 had closed in, we were able to keep within a few 
 miles of each other by occasionally showing lights. 
 
 This morning about eight o'clock, the helmsman 
 suddenly exclaimed, that he saw land a-head. No one 
 else could perceive it however, and as Jack was the 
 greatest '-'"yarn spinner'''' on board, he got this report 
 charged on the long list of falsehoods, white and black, 
 which had been accumulating on his conscience during 
 the voyage. It was a fine, clear morning, and the rolling 
 of the waves, and the motion of the vessel exhilarated 
 us all. Jack received many a jest concerning his new 
 discovery. One soberly inquired, what had become 
 of Cape Fly-away ; another thought the prospect for 
 "Jack's farm" was not very flattering this season. The 
 captain asked if his " old sodger" story about a pain 
 in his side, was as big a lie as this : but Jack persisted 
 that he still saw land, and coolly described its form 
 and appearance. The captain looking once more in 
 the direction he pointed, changed countenance on dis- 
 covering the forms of lofty mountains faintly delinea- 
 ted on the sky, at a considerable height from the hori- 
 zon. As usual. Jack was rewarded with a bottle, and 
 at that moment the American brig, which was before 
 us, hoisted her colours, as a signal that she had made 
 the same welcome discovery, and changing our course 
 and crowding sail, we all pressed on towards Cape 
 Spartel, the north-western point of the continent of 
 Africa. 
 
VOYAGE TO GIBRALTAR. 7 
 
 Several lofty ridges became distinctlj visible as we 
 advanced, backed by a chain of distant mountains far 
 in the interior ; and the steep sides of the Cape were 
 covered with a dark coat of green, interrupted by- 
 straight, sloping ledges of whitish rocks, and single 
 stones of the same colour scattered about in all direc- 
 tions. Here and there were little spots of a brighter 
 green, seen by the help of the glass, cut into squares 
 by hedges or rows of trees : but we could not discern 
 a single habitation till we came in sight of Tangiers, 
 which is situated about five miles from the Cape. The 
 buildings are white and stancT in a cluster; some of 
 them nearly on a level with the water, and others 
 stretching along on the top of a hill, which descends 
 to the shore with a broken precipice. The town is 
 surrounded by a wall, and defended by extensive for- 
 tifications: and in the centre is a mosque, with its 
 square tower. Wherever the surface of the hill slant- 
 ed towards us, it showed green fields divided by 
 hedges; and these, with a succession of smooth hills 
 beyond, formed an agreeable contrast with the ridges 
 of waste mountains, which rose to a great height be- 
 hind, ending in the distant conical peaks we had seen 
 before from a different point of view. Sunset spread 
 its accustomed tranquillity over the scene, in spite of 
 the tyranny of the Emperor of Morocco, under whose 
 dominion all these regions lay. 
 
 The coast presents the same appearance through 
 the Straits ; though as night came on while we were 
 beating up. we had no opportunity to see it all. On 
 the Spanish side we saw a few huts, lying near cultiva- 
 ted fields, some of which were spotted with small trees, 
 and had the appearance of our orchards : but the 
 greater part of the soil seemed to be entirely useless, 
 or. at best, capable only of affording pasture for sheep. 
 
^ GIBRALTAR. 
 
 In a few hours we beat up to Cabreta Point, with 
 the aid of a lighthouse, whence the captain was able 
 to distinguish the Rock of Gibraltar through the dark- 
 ness of the night, by the glimmering of several lamps 
 in different parts of the town, though it was then ten 
 miles off! 
 
 At day-light we were entering the bay of Gibraltar ; 
 and the dark rock rose before us, with a cloud stretch- 
 ed above it in the form of a bow, or, rather, like an 
 eagle hovering over its summit. At sun-rise, an exten- 
 sive scene opened agreeably before us. The bay is 
 about ten miles in length, and five in breadth ; and 
 principally enclosed by mountains, which are divested 
 of trees, covered with rocks, and worn into channels 
 by the torrents which pour down their sides in the 
 rainy seasons. Small portions of the soil near the wa- 
 ter are cultivated ; but the whole country in sight is 
 very thinly inhabited. Algesiras made a handsome 
 appearance, being built on the margin of the bay, and 
 presenting a cluster of white stone houses, with an 
 aqueduct stretching from the hills into the town. With 
 a glass we could discover men at work in the fields, 
 and others passing out at a gate with loaded mules. 
 San Roque stands on the top of a round hill, two miles 
 from the bay; and beyond it are distant ranges of noble 
 mountains, the last of which are covered with snow, 
 though, with us the air is very mild and pleasant. 
 The remains of old deserted towers, villages and 
 breastworks, are to be seen in many places, serving as 
 hints of the military operations of former times. 
 
 The rock of Gibraltar, the key of the Mediterra- 
 nean, and probably the strongest fortified position in 
 the world, forms the eastern point of the bay ; and is 
 no less remarkable for its natural shape and situation, 
 than for the artificial works by which it has been ren- 
 
GIBRALTAR. 9 
 
 dered impregnable. When seen from Cabreta Point, 
 it appears much diminished in size ; and from certain 
 places in the Straits it looks like a narrow cone, very 
 steep on one side, and quite perpendicular on the 
 other. It is in fact, however, about three miles long, but 
 very narrow, and perfectly straight. The precipitous 
 side is towards Spain, and overlooks a low flat plain 
 at its foot, several miles in extent, called the Neutral 
 Ground. The town is built on the other side, close 
 to the water; and a mole has been run out, to form a 
 harbour for small vessels, which is overlooked by the 
 guns of the new mole — an important work, constructed 
 within a few years. Ships are obliged to anchor at 
 the distance of a mile or two from the shore, where 
 the bottom is rocky, and the situation exposed to the 
 whole force of a wind blowing into the harbour, as 
 well as to a bad sea. 
 
 From the place where we have anchored, which is 
 devoted to vessels in quarantine, we have a full view 
 of the north end of the rock, where the greatest 
 labour has been expended in fitting it for defence. 
 The small zigzag lines, which may be just distinguish- 
 ed in several places, are breastworks, where cannon 
 and mortars are mounted ; and the long marks which 
 point towards some of the most important positions, 
 are roads dug with great labour along the steep accli- 
 vity, and sometimes turning round the face of a preci- 
 pice so steep, that it makes one dizzy to look at them 
 even from this distance. A row of dark spots on the 
 face of the perpendicular ledge, which begins just 
 below the old square castle, are in fact embrasures, 
 through which a number of large cannon look down 
 upon the harbour; though from this place they appear 
 like stains in the rock. A long gallery, made by means 
 of gun-powder, runs along behind these openings; so 
 
 2 
 
10 GIBRALTAR. 
 
 that troops may be marched up, or supplies of ammuni- 
 tion raised, without the least exposure to the shot of an 
 enemy. Another gallery of still greater size is made in 
 the face of the rock, on the other side, to command the 
 Neutral Ground ; and the projections from the profile of 
 the mountain, resembling towers, are not entirely natu- 
 ral, but have been shaped by art, and each mounts se- 
 veral heavy cannon. The shore on this side is lined 
 with walls of hewn stone, supporting long ranges of ar- 
 tillery nearly on a level with the water, the sight of 
 which would discourage any hopes of landing. 
 
 It was not a little amusing to observe the fishing- 
 boats, frequently passing us while we were sailing 
 up the bay. They were worked with triangular sails, 
 which were raised on long yards, pointed high into 
 the air; and the men on board them made a very 
 singular appearance. One of them was manned by 
 half a dozen men and boys, whose faces were of a dark 
 brown colour, and a strange physiognomy ; with large 
 trowsers and turbans. The steersman, an old man in 
 a large cloak, sat leaning with his arms almost a-kimbo, 
 and an expression of disdain in his hard features, which 
 might have become a bashaw, but was ridiculous in a 
 fisherman. 
 
 We had hardly come to anchor, when a boat came 
 along side, and a dark-complexioned man, with a 
 sort of uniform dress, demanded, in broken English, 
 whence we came. He was the health officer; and 
 his boatmen wore glazed hats marked G. R. The 
 papers which were handed them, were taken with a pair 
 of tongs, immersed in water, and then spread, by means 
 of the boat's tiller and some sticks, for the officer to 
 read ; for as we were in quarantine, we were treated 
 exactly as if we had actually had the plague on board. 
 We found we were to remain in quarantine two or three 
 
GIBRALTAR. j j 
 
 days ; and our ensign being hauled down, we hoisted a 
 white flag. 
 
 The American consul, Mr. Henry, who soon after 
 came out to us, very politely remained along side for 
 some time, not being permitted to come on board. He 
 communicated to us the most interesting news concern- 
 ing the troubles existing in Sicily ; and favourable ac- 
 counts of the healthiness of the neighbouring Spanish 
 and African ports, which would tend to shorten our 
 quarantine up the Mediterranean. His boat soon after 
 came out again with a welcome supply of fresh beef, 
 mutton, sallad, radishes, apples, pears, and a singular 
 sort of cabbages, which were twice as large as ours, 
 and very flat on the top. The apples were from Genoa, 
 but notwithstanding the high character they bear in this 
 part of the world, we thought them small, hard, insipid, 
 and fit only for the cider-press. 
 
 After dinner, it began to rain from the eastward, from 
 which quarter comes the most disagreeable wind known 
 in the Mediterranean. The weather was warm, but 
 gloomy and dispiriting. The rock looked remarkably 
 black, and a thick misty cloud hung on the top of it : 
 but at eight in the evening, the air was so clear, that 
 the Hghts in the town shone with splendour, and were 
 so numerous and irregularly disposed, as to supply in 
 some measure the place of stars and constellations. 
 
 JM^ovember 31. It rained repeatedly during the 
 night, without the least wind : but the air was clear 
 at three in the morning, when only a few lights re- 
 mained burning in Gibraltar, and the barking of dogs 
 and crowing of cocks could be distinctly heard, 
 though all was still on board the ships of different 
 nations, which lay on all sides of us ; for the " anchor- 
 watch" is kept by a single sailor. The silence all 
 around us, had something of solemnity in it, when we 
 
12 (^IBRALTAK. 
 
 considered the neighbourhood of so tremendous a bat- 
 tery, with all its power in a stater of repose ; and re- 
 collected how often it had disturbed the tranquillity of 
 night, with heavy peals of artillery. At half past three, 
 " seven bells" were struck in succession on board the 
 vessels in the harbour, some at the distance of two or 
 three miles, and others close at hand ; giving a momen- 
 tary liveliness to the scene, but soon passing away, and 
 leaving all as still as before. 
 
 In the forenoon the clouds disappeared, the sun 
 shone, and the weather was clear and warm. A thin 
 mist lay along the sides of the neighbouring mountains, 
 and collected in dense masses on the more distant 
 summits. This in some measure destroyed the naked 
 uniformity of their surfaces, which is unpleasant, I may 
 almost say disgusting, to eyes accustomed to Ameri- 
 can forests. On the opposite side of the Straits, the 
 African mountains were in full view, at the distance of 
 about thirty miles, and were loaded to excess with 
 clouds of mist piled upon each other, and shining in the 
 sun. Every thing was now full of life. Voices were 
 heard from the ships, speaking in different languages ; 
 boats, with long sharp sails, were seen gliding along 
 smoothly in all directions, and a multitude of sounds, 
 from the haze which covered Gibraltar, came mingled 
 and almost dissolved into one general hum. We could 
 see men and women on the distant beach of the Neu- 
 tral Ground, driving loaded mules and wagons, and 
 followed by their dogs. The very fish rejoiced in the 
 delightful morning, and came in shoals to the surface to 
 see the sun shine. 
 
 If one might judge from the appearance of the por- 
 tion of country visible from the bay, this part of Spain 
 must be on many accounts, very uninviting. The soil 
 is neglected, and the towns compactly built, so that the 
 
GIBRALTAR. 13 
 
 inhabitants can find little of that comfort which depends 
 on room enough at home, and nothing like rural plea- 
 sures when they leave their walls. There are no roads, 
 properly so called, within this vicinity, excepting 
 only those at Gibraltar, and that which the governor 
 has made to San Roque, his usual residence. For- 
 merly the latter was impassable for a carriage, as is now 
 the mule-path to Algesiras. 
 
 December 1. To-day we received notice of the ter- 
 mination of our quarantine, and landed at the mole 
 among a great number of boats of various sizes, and 
 many of them smugglers, which carry tobacco to 
 all parts of the neighbouring Spanish coast. They 
 are long, sharp boats, carry long sails, and have a 
 great number of men to row them, in a calm, and to 
 work their guns in cases of necessity; for they are 
 armed, and sometimes fight desperately. The land- 
 ing mole was out of sight from the vessel, being hidden 
 by the new mole, which is well built of hewn stone, 
 runs out a great way into the water, and serves the 
 double purpose of securing the landing from the sea, 
 and from the attack of an enemy. It is strongly forti- 
 fied : for as we rowed along, we had to pass before 
 the mouths of fifteen heavy cannon. The outer wall 
 of the garrison stands on the water's edge; and rising 
 above it, just behind each other, were seen three tiers 
 of cannon, ready to sweep both the moles and a large 
 part of the anchorage. 
 
 We stepped on shore among boatmen and sailors of 
 several nations, and merchants collected on the mole 
 about packages of goods; and after showing our pass- 
 ports, entered the outer gate, called the Water Gate. 
 Here we found ourselves at once in the midst of the 
 bustle and din of Gibraltar, the crowd of which, is as 
 heterogeneous as can well be imagined : Spanish. 
 
14 
 
 GIBRALTAR. 
 
 Moorish, English and Genoese sailors — Spanish mar- 
 ket people driving loaded donkies — Moorish Jews car- 
 rying monstrous burthens, with small scullcaps, and 
 loose trowsers cut off at the knee, leaving their mus- 
 cular legs bare. These last are porters, and are all re- 
 markably strong men. The streets were so narrow and 
 crooked, and the crowd so great, that it was difficult 
 to move. The houses are filled with inhabitants, for 
 the limited ground within the walls has long since been 
 occupied, and the population has increased till every 
 thing is as full as a rabbit-warren. As we passed along 
 we heard the confused sounds of half a dozen un- 
 known languages, mixed with English, and the national 
 dialects of Scotch and Irish soldiers. The shops pre- 
 sented a singular collection of various wares from all 
 parts of the world, and the market was stocked with 
 many strange roots, fruits, and fish, such as we had 
 never before seen, except in books of natural his- 
 tory. 
 
 Our inn is the only one in Gibraltar which makes 
 any pretentions to the English style, and is still in some 
 respects, half Spanish. From the dining-room, which 
 is on the second floor, we look down upon the princi- 
 pal street, and the Custom House, where the passers- 
 by are continually presenting to our eyes the costumes 
 of different nations, in new and striking contrasts. 
 Here are peasants from the neighbouring parts of An- 
 dalusia, dressed in round jackets and small clothes of 
 green velvet, broad brimmed hats, leathern gaiters, 
 scarlet sashes, and ruffled shirts ; some also in panta- 
 loons trimmed with rows of buttons and cord ; English 
 ladies with Leghorn hats and merino shawls ; Spanish 
 women in black dresses, or muffled in scarlet cloaks 
 with high hoods; besides Genoese sailors, Barbary 
 Jews and English soldiers. 
 
GIBRALTAR. 15 
 
 We had hardly recovered from the first impression 
 made by this new scene, when we had to sit down to 
 dinner, and were confused afresh by a varied conver- 
 sation, which after a long and sedate voyage, set our 
 minds vibrating in a most singular manner between 
 Europe, Asia, Africa, and America. A Scotch ship- 
 master, who had just arrived from Algiers, made an 
 expose of the views and designs of the " Algeric" 
 government, and one described the reception given by 
 Governor Don to a British plenipotentiary a few days 
 since. On his arrival he was saluted by all the cannon 
 in the garrison ; and during his stay, St. Michael's 
 Cave was illuminated and visited by a large party. On 
 inquiring, we found nobody pretended to speak with 
 confidence of the state of things at Sicily ; but the last 
 accounts were of so gloomy a nature, and the charac- 
 ter of the nation is so w^ell known, that even a short 
 stay there, at this time, must be insecure if not dan- 
 gerous. 
 
 This afternoon we went to look at a house where 
 we had been recommended to take private lodgings, 
 by a friend who had little to say in their praise, but 
 spoke of them as very commodious for Gibraltar. 
 The house is owned by an Englishman ; and the only 
 entrance, (such the universal scarcity of room,) is 
 through his little shop into a court-yard, scarce twenty 
 feet square. In the Spanish fashion, the house is built 
 round this little open square, in one corner of which 
 were two women at their wash-tubs, in another, the 
 stable of a she-goat, [the family cow,] and in a third, 
 a flight of stairs leading to the upper apartments. 
 These we mounted at the peril of our necks, and 
 were introduced into two chambers, eight or ten feet 
 square, one of which was lighted through the door, 
 and the other through a square hole without glass, and 
 
IQ GIBRALTAR, 
 
 capable of being covered only with a swinging shutter 
 made of a palm-leaf netting. 
 
 At sun-set the report of a cannon was heard from the 
 top of the rock, and drums and horns instantly began 
 their martial notes to summon the soldiers to their 
 various places of parade. All along the margin of the 
 water is a broad carriage-road, or rather military path, 
 faced with strong parapets, and planted with a row of 
 cannon. According to the rules of fortification, the 
 line of the shore is occasionally broken by a project- 
 ing bastion, the guns of which command every point 
 on three sides ; and every thing is regulated with such 
 perfect precision, that each soldier knows his place 
 and his duty. Every part of this fortified margin has 
 its particular name written in large letters upon the 
 parapets, whether it be gallery, curtain, bastion, or 
 battery, together with the number of the regiment 
 selected for its defence. Each gun bears the name of 
 some company, as well as its weight and that of its 
 shot. Near at hand are heaps of balls, ammunition 
 wagons, and a magazine surrounded with a palisade. 
 The barracks afford comfortable habitations for the 
 soldiers ; for though none of the largest, they are all 
 white-washed ; and even English, Scotch, and Irish 
 women find it convenient in this climate to cook their 
 husbands' rations in the open air. 
 
 The Cameronian regiment have their place of 
 parade on the King's Bastion, where they were re- 
 viewed this evening at sun-set, and the band played 
 several marches in fine style, to a motley collection of 
 inhabitants and strangers, among whom was a tall man, 
 in the full dress of an opulent Moorish merchant, a 
 blue coat or cloak, much ornamented with cords and 
 buttons, full Turkish trowsers, a white turban, and a 
 long beard. 
 
GIBRALTAR. 17 
 
 December 2. The two walls of the garrison are built 
 from the margin of the water up the side of the steep 
 hill, and include one third part of the rock. It is very 
 difficult to communicate an idea of the strength of 
 these walls by a description ; so many devices have 
 been invented and carried into effect, for taking every 
 possible advantage of the nature of the ground, and 
 to supply by works of art, what nature had left incom- 
 plete. The gates are very low and narrow, and the 
 roads leading to them are made to perform various 
 turnings, in order to expose them as much as possible 
 to guns on the neighbouring walls. 
 
 There are two ancient Moorish inscriptions over the 
 southern gate of the garrison ; and we had hardly 
 stepped without it, when we observed two rows of 
 cannon looking down upon us from the high walls on 
 the right and left, ready to sweep away not only our- 
 selves, but the narrow bridge on which we stood. 
 The shore is fortified from this place to Europa Point, 
 about two miles, in the same manner as it is in the gar- 
 rison; and pyramids of shot and shells are ready for 
 use, heaped up to the height of twenty or thirty feet. 
 Here is a large public garden, on the irregular ground 
 at the base of the rock, which has been made by the 
 German soldiers, after the design of the governor, 
 divided by serpentine paths, and planted with roots, 
 herbs, flowers, and trees. The walks are bordered 
 with geraniums, green and in blossom, even at this 
 season, and mixed with large rock-pears and many 
 beautiful plants, some of which have long leaves 
 like those of a tulip, and are as high as a man's 
 head. Rustic seats, and arbours, are placed in those 
 spots which command the finest prospects over the 
 bay and across the Straits ; and on the whole, the 
 Alameda, (for so the garden is called,) is a delightful 
 
 3 
 
1 8 GIBRALTAR— EXCAVATIONS. 
 
 place, and the more so, because from the bay, one 
 could never have suspected its existence. 
 
 December 3. About one third the way up the rock, 
 and near the north end of it, stands a Moorish castle, 
 of uncertain antiquity. It occupies the brow of a per- 
 pendicular ledge, containing the excavated galleries, 
 for which Gibraltar is so famous. We set out this 
 morning, under the guidance of a Serjeant, to visit 
 these galleries; and after a tedious walk through 
 several streets, on the steep side of the rock, we found 
 ourselves just below the castle, and at the gate of an 
 old wall stretching down from it. The gate was very 
 low, and of plain and solid architecture ; and the 
 walls, which are Moorish, are formed of rough Stones, 
 and large, thin bricks, in alternate layers, cemented 
 with mortar. A subterranean passage led us under 
 the wall of the garrison, and a few steps brought us 
 to the beginning of the modern works : a dark pas- 
 sage bored through the rocks, for a distance of 150 
 feet. A little way beyond, is the entrance to Wyllys' 
 Gallery — a powerful battery, capable of playing upon 
 an enemy from an inaccessible height, through em- 
 brasures or port holes cut in the face of the high, 
 rocky precipice. The passage to the guns is a gal- 
 lery, blasted with powder, three hundred feet long, 
 and large enough for the passing of a wagon ; imper- 
 fectly lighted by the embrasures ; and where nothing 
 is to be seen, but heavy cannon, (mounted, according 
 to custom, on iron carriages,) bolted magazines, and 
 piles of shot. This passage terminates at a shaft like 
 a well, down which we went, in total darkness, by a 
 winding staircase, where our footsteps echoed like guns, 
 above and below. CornwalHs' Hall, into which these 
 steps led us, is a room about 40 feet across, supplied 
 with a magazine, and three pieces of cannon. 
 
GIBKALTAR.— EXCAVATIONS. 
 
 19 
 
 Going up the dark stair-case again, and walking 
 through a level passage, more than a hundred feet in 
 length, we came to the brow of the precipice, which 
 may be a hundred and fifty feet high, and whence a 
 breastwork, and several forty-two pounders overlook 
 the bay, and at a great distance below, the Moorish 
 castle; while the peaks of the mountains above, seem- 
 ed yet as distant as ever. There are also two or three 
 mortars mounted here, of the diameter of 13 inches. 
 There is one in the garrison, half an inch, or an inch 
 larger; and that, a soldier told us, was taken from the 
 Spanish, and was the largest ever made. 
 
 Our guide now led us up still further; and at length, 
 passing between broken rocks, some of which, jutted 
 out overhead, and made a roof for the path, we sud- 
 denly found ourselves on the very edge of a preci- 
 pice, five or six hundred feet high; and leaning upon 
 a slight railing, looked down upon the Neutral Ground, 
 which stretched out in a sandy plain, on the left to the 
 bay, and on the right, to the Mediterranean; while in 
 front, it was bounded by hills and mountains, in the 
 neighbouring parts of Spain. 
 
 By a dark hole just at hand, we entered the Wind- 
 sor Gallery, which is formed on the same plan as 
 Wyllys'. It is, however, at a greater height — quite 
 out of the reach of an enemy's artillery, and about 
 500 feet in length. The guns too, are larger, and on 
 account of the irregularity of the rocky surface, through 
 which their embrasures are cut, the gallery is some- 
 times quite dark, and so irregular, that it is difficult 
 to proceed. We next reached the most admirable 
 part of these magnificent works — St. George's Hall. 
 Externally, it has the appearance of a round tower, 
 against the side of the precipice, which the Rock of 
 Gibraltar presents towards the Neutral Ground. 
 
20 GIBRALTAR.— EXCAVATIONS. 
 
 This is partly the effect of art : but the skill of the 
 engineer has been chiefly devoted to forming a beau- 
 tiful circular apartment within, about 40 feet in dia- 
 meter, and vaulted overhead. The floor is perfectly 
 smooth, and the walls are pierced for six sixty-four 
 pounders. The care taken to keep every thing in 
 perfect order, together with the shaft cut through the 
 top to let off the smoke, the smoothness of the walls, 
 and the agreeable light admitted by the embrasures, 
 are calculated to please the eye, after it has become 
 accustomed to the roughness and gloom of the long 
 galleries. Through the embrasure on the right, we 
 looked along the perpendicular side of the rock, broken 
 indeed, yet on the whole surprisingly smooth for a 
 natural surface, and rising to a sublime height like the 
 wall of a colossal city. The gun which stood beside 
 us was so balanced, that the guide, with the strength 
 of one hand, pointed it down almost perpendicularly; 
 and such is the regularity of the precipice, that a 
 ball fired from it, would have almost grazed it the 
 whole distance, and yet have met with no obstruc- 
 tion, till it fell upon the heap of loose stones, which 
 has accumulated upon the plain below. While we 
 were in quarantine, we had often noticed a bright' 
 spot, like a window, near the line of junction be- 
 tween the rock and Cornwallis' Hall, which now 
 proved to have been occasioned by two opposite 
 embrasures, through which we had seen the sky : for 
 standing in a line between them, my eyes ranged over 
 the quarantine anchorage, and soon singled out our 
 vessel among a crowd of merchantmen below. On 
 the Neutral Ground, are the remains of several old 
 entrenchments, raised on various occasions ; and 
 though they appeared like works of but little conse- 
 quence at that distance, had been important batteries. 
 
GIBRALTAR— EXCAVATIONS. 21 
 
 The Serjeant ^as familiar with many points of local 
 history, and had numerous anecdotes at command. 
 He pointed out particularly one of the breast-works, 
 which the Spaniards erected, to annoy the Windsor 
 Gallery : but it was found impossible for the guns to 
 carry so high, and the only point within their range, 
 was an insignificant battery at the water's edge, un- 
 der the north end of the rock, far on our left. In the 
 mean time, the tremendous artillery we had just 
 been reviewing, had poured down such a shower 
 of heavy shot, that the position was very speedily 
 abandoned. 
 
 A flight of steps, cut info the solid stone, brought us 
 to the verge of the precipice, on a level with the top of 
 Cornwallis' Hall. It is surmounted by a conical cap, 
 through the centre of which is the chimney, which 
 lets off the smoke of the guns. As we had become 
 confused by the various objects we had seen, and the 
 irregular manner in which we had gained this spot ; 
 and besides, could see nothing above us but a single 
 mass of rock, we supposed ourselves on the summit : 
 but the guide desired us to follow him, and judge for 
 ourselves whether we were yet at the top. We 
 accordingly stepped upon a crag which projected near 
 us — though I confess it was somewhat appalling to 
 observe that the cleft between, over which we had 
 to spring, was bottomed by the Neutral Ground. 
 Looking up, we saw the North Pinnacle — a mass of 
 grey rocks, almost over our heads, and about a thou- 
 sand feet above us, which, so suddenly discovered, had 
 a most singular effect upon our minds. We seemed 
 to be shrinking to the size of pigmies, and felt at the 
 same time, so strong a disposition to contemplate the 
 vast magnitudes around us, that, for fear of forgetting 
 ourselves, and falling from the shelf on which we stood. 
 
22 GIBRALTAR.— EXCAVATIONS. 
 
 we lay down, and grasped with all our might a ring- 
 bolt, the only thing we could lay hold on. For a mo- 
 ment, the crag seemed to be shaken, and almost to 
 dance in the air like a bird's nest in a high wind, as if 
 separating itself from the precipice. 
 
 The only exit from this place is through Cornwallis' 
 Hall. We entered, and again found ourselves on the 
 other side of the rock, which is a steep, sloping 
 surface, covered with loose rocks of grey, compact 
 lime-stone, spotted with a few shrubs and dwarf palms, 
 a foot or two high; with the garrison and bay just 
 below. We were bound to the middle peak of the 
 rock, which is called the Signal Station ; and the path 
 leading to it is one of those fine ones, which have 
 been made at great expense, to facilitate the commu- 
 nication between various points. It is more than 20 
 feet wide, and runs in a slanting direction at such an 
 angle, that guns, ammunition, and stores, may be raised 
 with comparative facility. Among the sharp stones 
 under our feet, we observed chrystalised carbonate of 
 lime and arragonite ; but, what was worthy of more 
 attention, was the singular appearance of many of the 
 rocks. These were frequently perforated with holes, 
 in a most unaccountable manner, sometimes as accu- 
 rately as if bored for blasting ; sometimes irregularly, 
 or tunnel-shaped, and that in places where they could 
 not have been washed by torrents ; sometimes of such 
 forms, and running in such directions, that water run- 
 ning downwards could not have produced them.* 
 
 * What had been or might be thought by learned men, of the ancient tra- 
 dition, that the Straits of Gibraltar were originally closed up, 1 knew not, at 
 the time when I made the remarks above ; nor did I intend ever to hazard 
 what I then considered the only rational conjecture, that a strong current had 
 once run over the rock, even, at that immense height. The stones certainly 
 present an appearance like that frequently observed near rapids and cata- 
 racts in America ; and many of them seem to have been broken, and turned 
 
GIBRALTAR.— EXCAVATIONS. 23 
 
 When we approached the Signal Station, the ascent 
 became very steep, and the road mounted by short 
 zigzags, and was supported by fine walls. On the top 
 of one of them, a pretty little boy had taken his 
 station ; he was not more than three years old, and 
 amused himself by throwing down stones at us, laugFi- 
 ing with great glee at every discharge. We tried to 
 persuade him to leave a place so dangerous, for he 
 stood on the edge of a perpendicular wall 30 ket 
 high, but in vain. Four men are stationed on the 
 summit, under a corporal, who is father of the little 
 boy. He listened to our description of his dangerous 
 situation, and then remarking, that he was an only 
 child, and a great rogue, yet had often played in that 
 spot without meeting with any accident; invited us to 
 his house, which is situated with the soldiers' bar- 
 racks, on the summit of the rock, where is a small 
 level about 50 feet across. Here we received a wel- 
 come supply of refreshments, and were much pleased 
 with the frank, military air of our host, and the neat- 
 ness of every thing we saw. He lives here with his 
 wife, child, and four soldiers, so that although in full 
 view of crowded towns, and a port filled with vessels, 
 he was almost entirely cut off from all correspondence 
 with the rest of mankind, except such as he could 
 carry on by a telegraph. He complained of the dif- 
 ficulty of getting many of the conveniences of life 
 raised to his dwelling. His rations are carried up 
 
 over in the same manner. In other . places, the same phenomena were 
 observed ; particularly, in a subterranean passage, just within the gate, open- 
 ing upon the fortified line at Europa Point. 
 
 A French geologist has lately published a work, in which he maintains the 
 ancient account concerning the Straits ; and asserts, that the Spanish and 
 Moorish coasts are of sufficient height to make it probable. He believes, 
 that the Mediterranean and the Atlantic formerly had a communication, 
 along tl^e base of the mountains in the northern parts of Spain. 
 
24 
 
 GIBRALTAR.--EXCAVATIONS. 
 
 every d^y, as well as a quantity of water; for he 
 wisely remarked, that it would be foolish to attempt 
 to sink a well there, and he suspected we were the 
 first who had ever proposed it. The lightning, he 
 said, sometimes gave them some alarm, and the thun- 
 der seemed to burst in their ears. The wind, too, 
 would often blow as if determined to clear the rock of 
 them. He apologized for the want of chairs, as he 
 offered us a seat on a sofa, by saying the difficulty of 
 bringing them from the garrison would double their 
 cost : but we had seen apartments arranged with 
 less neatness and taste, though more accessible, and 
 more exposed to the visits of strangers. The house- 
 keeper, his wife, to whom this good order was at- 
 tributable, appeared more than once at the kitchen- 
 door, hastily reconnoitring our party, as if every 
 stranger were of course a curiosity. 
 
 The whole space occupied by the buildings and 
 yard is so small, and so ill-defended from the pre- 
 cipice on one side, that it seemed to us more like 
 an eagle's nest than a dwelling place for men. But 
 we had not yet reached the highest point of the 
 rock : for the South Pinnacle rose before us like a 
 sharp cone, above the line of the horizon, made by 
 the sky and the Mediterranean. On the right, the 
 side sloped with the most perfect regularity to the 
 bay; and on the left descended with one tremen- 
 dous precipice to the shore of the Mediterranean, 
 and masses of rock, which had fallen down from 
 above, lay at the base, half covered with water. 
 
 On our way to the South Pinnacle, we passed a 
 wall built by the Emperor Charles V. from the top 
 of the rock half down to the bay. The present limit 
 of the garrison, on this side, is further north ; and 
 Charles' Wall, as it is still familiarly called, is quite 
 
i'^" 
 
n 
 
GIBKALTAR— EXCAVATIONS. 25 
 
 useless. The level on the summit, which we reached 
 after a long and toilsome walk, is even smaller than 
 that gt the Signal Station; and is defended on two 
 sides from a terrible precipice by a low wall, three 
 or four feet high. Here are the ruins of a small 
 round tower, and of barracks intended for half a 
 dozen soldiers. These buildings were erected bj 
 Governor O'Harra, with the vain expectation of being 
 able to overlook the neighbouring Spanish moun- 
 tains, and to open a telegraph communication with 
 the bay of Cadiz. The mountains, however, seemed 
 to straighten themselves at this attempt to gain an 
 advantage on them ; so that, when the tower was 
 completed, Cadiz was as much out of sight as ever ; 
 yet sentries were stationed here regularly, until the 
 lightning struck the tower, and killed the soldier at 
 the door. The ruins have long been neglected, and 
 serve no other good purpose, but to warn every body 
 for twenty or thirty miles round, against precipitate 
 determinations. The governor named his tower 
 after St. George ; but the world call it O'Harra's Folly. 
 Among the ruins we observed a broken marble 
 slab which bore the height of that spot, ascertained 
 by a careful measurement to be 1470 feet. Looking 
 around and below, one feels as if suspended in the 
 air, in the midst of a magnificent display of broad 
 sheets of water and mountainous shores. The at- 
 mosphere was so clear that the line of the horizon 
 was quite distinct over the Mediterranean, and a very 
 distant promontory on the north-east jutting out from 
 the coast of Spain first interrupted its regularity. 
 Turning slowly to the left, the eye rested in succes- 
 sion on several similar points of land, till it began to 
 distinguish hills and valleys, rocky shores, green 
 fields, clusters of trees, and scattered houses, backed 
 
 4 
 
2(3 GIBRALTAR.— EXCAVATIONS. 
 
 by the noble ridge of the Grenada mountains. The 
 land at length settles into a dead level ; and the sea, 
 making two or three long, sweeping arches, into the 
 Neutral Ground, follows a waving margin of white 
 sand, till it washes the base of the rock and the frag- 
 ments, at a dreadful distance below. 
 
 On the opposite side of the Straits, the Rock of 
 Ceuta, the twin-sister of Gibraltar, was seen partly 
 hidden by surrounding hills and mountains, loaded 
 with thick heaps of clouds ; and the recollection that 
 art had converted this place also into a tremendous 
 battery, increased the effect of the scene. The im- 
 mense plain of water formed by the Mediterranean, 
 which stretched off to the east till it met the sky, was 
 spotted with a few white things like flakes of snow, 
 or sea-birds ; but these proved, on closer examination, 
 to be ships passing the Straits, and placed the con- 
 cerns of men in a still more humble point of view. 
 
 Towards the south, the rock terminates at Europa 
 Point, which is completely fortified, and may be ex- 
 mined with satisfaction from our elevated situation. 
 Long ranges of artillery line the precipitous shores, 
 zigzag roads, scattering barracks, huge insulated 
 masses of rock, crowned with breastworks and can- 
 non, diminished by the distance to marks and spots : 
 all these added greatly to our preconceived ideas of 
 the natural and artificial strength of Gibraltar. 
 
 This upper part of the rock is inhabited by 
 nothing but a few apes of an unusual size, which are 
 currently reported to come from Africa by a subter- 
 ranean passage : and, indeed, some shadow of proba- 
 bility seems to be thrown upon the tradition by the 
 foreign air of these animals, and the fact that St. 
 Michael's Cave is near at hand, which is of so great 
 a depth that its bottom has never been discovered. 
 
GIBRALTAR— EXCAVATIONS. 27 
 
 In descending from the South Pinnacle we passed 
 near the mouth of this cavern, and stopped to examine 
 it. It is divided into several apartments, the largest 
 of which is about eighty feet long, and sixty feet high, 
 supplied with a number of broken columns, which 
 present the most grotesque forms in the imperfect 
 light. This is the first apartment into which we 
 entered, and the only one light enough to be tra- 
 versed without a torch. The others have columns 
 of various sizes reaching from the floor to the roof, 
 which are of a beautiful white, except where they 
 have been smoked by the torches of guides; and one 
 is often tempted to think he has discovered the sump- 
 tuous palace of some subterranean king. Some parts 
 present the gloomy majesty of a cathedral; and the 
 eye often betrays its credulity, by attempting to trace 
 the imagined plan of its natural ornaments, and the 
 course of broken, confused lines, which spring from 
 clustered columns and seem tending to pointed arches. 
 In one place is a striking resemblance of a small 
 chapel, where the gradual accretion of the walls has 
 formed a niche with rude steps ; the fragments of rocks 
 fallen from above resemble a broken statue, and the 
 water, which is constantly trickling down, collects 
 itself in a little clear fount. The way is frequently 
 obstructed by broken rocks, and sometimes rendered 
 dangerous by the neighbourhood of a yawning chasm, 
 so deep that a pebble falls a long time before it is 
 heard to strike the bottom. Several passages are very 
 narrow ; and one, which leads into two or three apart- 
 ments of considerable size, is so small as scarcely to 
 admit a person even on his hands and knees. The 
 columns are sometimes of great height and wonderful 
 beauty. They have always an uneven surface, but yet 
 preserve a degree of regularity which well nigh inclines 
 
28 GIBRALTAR. 
 
 one to question their being shaped by nature. A fine 
 hall through which we passed contains the most beau- 
 tiful collection of columns in the whole cavern. Here 
 the smoke of the torches has had little effect; so that 
 every thing appears of a clear white, and possesses an 
 air of unusual cheerfulness. A cluster of columns 
 Standing within two or three feet of each other, were 
 just before us, hanging like beautiful icicles from the 
 roof, and in the midst of them was one distinguished by 
 its regularity and richness above every other. It was 
 scarcely three feet in diameter, fluted and filleted all 
 over, and broken at short intervals, by projections, 
 which were rounded on all sides like the edge of a 
 mushroom. Looking up, it stretched 50 or 60 feet to 
 the roof, with a perpendicular shaft ; and a broad beam 
 of light bursting through a cleft in the rock, and stream- 
 ing through the dusty air, shone full upon its white, 
 irregular surface, and upon several other columns 
 around it. The guides then spread a sudden illumi- 
 nation through the cavern, by moving their torches 
 above their heads ; screaming at the same time, to set 
 the echoes at work. Distant rows of columns began 
 to appear on all sides ; and sounds, strangely altered, 
 from those of the human voice, rang through halls and 
 passages still beyond. 
 
 Leaving the cavern, I made the guide clamber up 
 with me to the crevice through which the light was 
 admitted into the upper part of this hall from without, 
 and there the columns appeared still more beautiful, 
 being nearly as white and pure as those of the famous: 
 Kentucky cavern, which probably surpasses all others 
 in the world. 
 
 December 4. The population of Gibraltar is a most 
 heterogeneous mass, consisting principally of Genoese, 
 Rnglish, and Spanish, or their descendants. The pre- 
 
GIBRALTAR. 29 
 
 sent number of officers, soldiers, and other men be- 
 longing to the army, is about five thousand; or, to 
 speak with precision, four thousand seven hundred 
 and fifty three. Many English, Irish, and Scotch 
 should be added, vi^ho have accompanied their mili- 
 tary relations and friends to this place of security, 
 rather than post of danger. Beside these, there are 
 many individuals from the various nations on the Medi- 
 terranean, particularly from the neighbouring coast of 
 Africa. A great number of Jews are always seen 
 in the streets, and one would think they must form a 
 large part of the population ; but they are said to 
 amount to no more than seven hundred in all. They 
 supply the place with shop-keepers and porters, and 
 still retain the black scull-cap, the full trowsers cut 
 off at the knee, and the striking appearance of wretch- 
 ed poverty which they brought with them from Algiers. 
 Some of them, however, who are the worst clad, are 
 among the richest men in Gibraltar, and, on the Jewish 
 Sabbath, repair to the synagogue, arrayed in the splen- 
 did flowing robes which were worn in Jerusalem in 
 the times of the prophets. From their scrupulous 
 observance of the Mosaic Law in this respect, they 
 are transformed in appearance, once a week, from 
 beggars to creditable representatives of the house of 
 Israel, and many of them to priests and rabbis of a 
 most reverend aspect. Business is almost entirely at 
 a stand on Saturday, for there are few retailers in the 
 garrison who are not Jews. 
 
 The natives of this place are all known by the 
 same general appellation, which bears no reference 
 at all to the country of their parents : every one born 
 in Gibraltar is of course called a " Rock Scorpion." 
 And truly their residences are often better calculated 
 for the nature and habits of reptiles, than for those of 
 
30 
 
 GIBRALTAR. 
 
 men. The ground included by the walls of the gar- 
 rison is so broken and steep, that many of the streets 
 are, strictly speaking, great stair-cases; and (|thers 
 are supported so high in the air by stone wallil, that 
 you may almost look down the chimnies of the nearest 
 houses. In the gardens, many trees and plants are 
 collected, which in our own country are known only 
 as rare and curious exotics. Here too, rocks are 
 observed, which have been excavated, so as to form 
 the cellars and the lower apartments of handsome 
 houses, the upper stories being supplied by stone and 
 mortar, while the weather-beaten surface, and the 
 broad leaves of old palm-trees extending over the 
 garden walls, give an appearance of respectable 
 antiquity to the residence of many an ancient family 
 of " Rock Scorpions," whose successive generations 
 have witnessed, from their singular and elevated situa- 
 tion, the various warlike operations that have been 
 directed against this place of strength. 
 
 The inhabitants of Gibraltar, as I have before men- 
 tioned, preserve, with great tenacity, the costumes of 
 their several countries; so that a walk through the 
 place is like reading a chapter of manners and customs. 
 Many ladies appear in the street wrapped in dresses of 
 jet black, after the Spanish fashion ; while others of the 
 inferior classes wear hooded scarlet cloaks, trimmed 
 and edged with black. Their faces are all formed 
 after one model, with round, sallow cheeks, tolerable 
 features, and black eyes ; and they are rarely seen 
 without their fans, which they keep continually in 
 motion, and which they are said to use in conversa- 
 tion like telegraphs. Long blue Spanish cloaks are 
 frequently seen muffling tall men, who, whether they 
 be wealthy merchants, or mere idlers, move with a 
 striking air of conscious importance. The right 
 
GIBRALTAR. 31 
 
 corner of the cloak, is thrown over the left shoulder, 
 and the loose drapery lies in the graceful folds of the 
 Roman toga, and is drawn up till it hides the face, and 
 shows nothing but a pair of mysterious black eyes, 
 looking suspiciously out upon the world. 
 
 Neither do the inhabitants confine their national 
 partiality to dress alone : they let it follow them home ; 
 and give it a place at the table and the hearth. In 
 one house, children are brought up on Neapolitan 
 maccaroni ; in the next, the cry is for " bannocks of 
 bear-meal, bannocks of barley !" Here, you may hear 
 unleavened bread called for in Hebrew, during the 
 passover; and at the opposite door, the Irish name 
 for potatoes every day in the year. 
 
 The number of Genoese inhabitants is so great, 
 that it may be proper to give a hasty sketch of an inn, 
 kept by one of that nation, where 1 am at present 
 lodged, particularly, as both reader and author are 
 bound up the Mediterranean, or, as it is here fami- 
 liarly expressed, " up aloft." This hotel is consi- 
 dered the best in the whole garrison, except two or 
 three, but is not the resort of Americans or English- 
 men. The entrance from the street is through a gate- 
 way, leading to a court surrounded on all sides by the 
 house, which is necessarily built in the form of a hol- 
 low square. A piazza, which runs round the second 
 story, affords a communication between the stairs and 
 the dining rooms, sleeping chambers, &lc. On the 
 ground-floor, several doors open on all sides, into the 
 tap-room, the kitchen, the host's private parlour, and 
 the stables. The dinner, in effecting its way from the 
 fire to table, has therefore to make a passage of con- 
 siderable length, beside the ascent of a stair-case. 
 But a precursor never fails to anticipate its arrival by 
 an hour or more, in the fumes of strong small fish, fried 
 
32 GIBRALTAR.— SAN ROQUE. 
 
 in oil, and the penetrating odour of garlic. Above 
 the outer gate is a sign, which tells the world in 
 Spanish and English, that the host keeps a large num- 
 ber of horses, donkies, and mules to let to such as 
 are ambitious of a gallop to San Roque, or a ride 
 through the " excavations." These animals are ac- 
 commodated with racks and mangers in an apartment 
 adjoining that in which the females of the house (who 
 bear the round, foreign features of Maritorness,) 
 amuse themselves all day w^ith a discordant spinnet, 
 and their incessant Genoese jargon. The weather is 
 so warm even at this season, that none of the indwel- 
 lers sit with closed doors ; and the strangest composi- 
 tion is produced by the squealing, stamping and bray- 
 ing from the stable, the steams of the kitchen, and the 
 mirth and music from the adjacent parlour. 
 
 December 5. San Roque is a small Spanish town, 
 situated about ^\e miles from this place, where the 
 governor and several English merchants have coun- 
 try houses. A fine road has lately been opened 
 thither, by the permission of the king ; and to make 
 a short excursion into the country from the garrison, 
 never means any thing more than going to San Roque. 
 We took a walk there to-day, and in leaving Gibral- 
 tar passed through the northern gates at the base of 
 the rock, but little raised above the water level. 
 The various artificial works which command indispu- 
 tably this passage are truly admirable. The path 
 crosses several draw-bridges, and coasts along broad 
 ditches, whose opposite sides present only batteries of 
 heavy cannon, planned and erected in times of peace 
 and leisure, and kept in as perfect order as if an 
 attack were expected to-morrow. The northern wall 
 of the garrison overlooks a great part of the road, 
 with its battlements and embrasures ; while the loop- 
 
GIBRALTAR.— SAN ROQUE. ^ 33 
 
 holes, cut here and there through the excavated rocks, 
 which form the substruction of its heavy towers, re- 
 mind one of the fatal skill of sharp-shooters, for whom 
 they were doubtless intended. A precipice rises on 
 the right several hundred feet, where the Wyllys' Gal- 
 lery was sleeping as it were with her eyes open ; and 
 Cornwallis' Hall stood advanced from the rock like a 
 watch-tower, looking down with suspicion on the neigh- 
 bouring coast and country. Every turn in our path 
 brought to light some new battery ; so that when we 
 were just ready to congratulate ourselves on losing 
 sight of a long row of guns, a double tier stood right 
 before us ; and soon afterwards we came suddenly in 
 sight of three rows of cannon, which yawned so wide in 
 our faces, that we looked directly down their throats. 
 
 When these were all passed, we came upon the 
 Neutral Ground, which is sandy and quite barren, 
 except a tract of a few acres, where the present 
 governor has made a garden for the supply of the 
 garrison. This spot has been manured by the sweep- 
 ings of the streets, reduced to ashes, and produces a 
 variety of herbs for the market. Here are the houses 
 of the gardeners, which, with the large wheels for 
 raising water turned by mules, the unknown vege- 
 tables cultivated in some of the fields, and the inclo- 
 sures made of woven canes, or of a shrub with im- 
 mense leaves shaped like those of a tulip, offered 
 many picturesque little scenes. 
 
 The Spanish lines are marked by ditches, batteries, 
 and low, white barracks; where we found ourselves 
 suddenly among officers and soldiers wearing the uni- 
 form, and bearing the arms of his most Catholic Majes- 
 ty. It was very gratifying to us, who are likely to have 
 very little time for seeing the neighbouring country, 
 that the face of things, even at this short distance from 
 
 5 
 
34 GIBRALTAR.— SAN ROQUE. 
 
 Gibraltar, should assume an expression so decidedly 
 Spanish. A few houses clustered together in this 
 spot were built of stone, and inhabited by people who 
 could not understand a single word of English. We 
 stopped at a passport-office, whose master we found 
 had public duties to perform of more than one de- 
 scription ; for his walls were ornamented with razors, 
 cows' tails, teeth fastened in strings, and hanging in 
 festoons. In one corner an ancient basket-hilted 
 sword was capped with a barber's basin, as if to 
 convince us that we were actually in the land of Don 
 Quixote and the peerless Dulcinea. 
 
 Two miles beyond, the road lay on the beach round 
 the head of Gibraltar Bay, from which the governor's 
 road led us back across the uncultivated hills and 
 valleys we had often overlooked befpre. There are 
 indeed, a few clusters of houses and patches of tilled 
 ground ; but the inhabitants wear all the marks of 
 extreme poverty, and the soil is almost entirely neg- 
 lected, spreading in unenclosed pastures, and culti- 
 vated in small fields here and there. Several gardens 
 were fenced with rock-pears, which, though of so 
 diminutive a size in our own country, grow here to the 
 height of six or eight feet, and produce well-flavoured 
 fruit. This vegetable is even cultivated in fields 
 devoted expressly to the purpose ; where it is planted 
 in hills like Indian corn. 
 
 Three small wooden crosses, standing by the road 
 side, denoted the places where as many murders had 
 been committed ; and a small tomb bore an inscrip- 
 tion, purporting that a Spanish officer had fallen on 
 that spot, while defending himself against seven 
 Frenchmen. 
 
 We met a few Englishmen riding towards the gar- 
 rison on imported horses, and ladies mounted on mules 
 
GIBRALTAR.— SAN ROQUE. 35 
 
 and dowkies, that were covered with gay trappings, 
 and followed by men on foot with long sticks. The 
 peasants who passed us never failed to take off their 
 hats, and to cry in a drawling tone, and with no little 
 formality : " Sa-lud ! Sa-lud !" 
 
 Among the clusters of hovels on the road, were a 
 number of inns, which fully justified the discouraging 
 representations we had heard, of the wretched accom- 
 modations prepared for travellers in Spain. With 
 thesolitary exception of the short road we were travel- 
 ling, there is not a single path for many miles around 
 passable in carriages, and the inns are correspondent 
 with the expectations of the travellers, who are almost 
 exclusively muleteers. The barest necessaries of life: 
 a little wretched food and wine, the shelter of a roof, 
 and a sack of straw, or perhaps the ground-floor for 
 a couch, can possess few attractions in the worst cir- 
 cumstances, and would never be preferred to the open 
 air on such a fine day as this. At the inns which we 
 passed, therefore, travellers were seen lying on the 
 ground, under the southern walls, wrapped in their 
 blue cloaks, with their horses tied to posts near at 
 hand : for there appeared to be no stables for their 
 reception. 
 
 The town of San Roque stands on a steep round 
 hill ; and, on entering it, is found to consist of narrow 
 streets, and old fashioned houses with low stories. 
 Here are the high, small, latticed windows, the bal- 
 conies of gingerbread-work, and the general air of 
 antiquity, which correspond with the backgrounds of 
 many Spanish prints we were familiar with at home. 
 An old woman and two or three beggar children con- 
 ducted us with great reverence into the church, which 
 occupies the summit of the hill, and were surprised 
 that we did not kneel before the statues and pictures 
 
36 GIBRALTAR.— SAN ROQUE. 
 
 in the various chapels. There was "Holy Mary 
 in tears," and " Christ on the cross," represented in 
 the most incorrect manner, and with most miserable 
 taste. 
 
 On our way home we stopped a moment at a hut to 
 quench our thirst. Like several others we had ob- 
 served, it was built entirely of reeds, so twisted and 
 woven as to form walls quite impervious to the weather. 
 A sign offered to all passers-by, and to ourselves 
 among the rest, such things as a house of this kind 
 might be expected to afford — bread and cheese, and 
 two or thee sorts of wine of inferior quality. A low 
 partition cut off the sleeping room, while that which 
 we entered, and the remainderof the whole house, had 
 a ground floor, and a recess devoted to casks and cups. 
 The inhabitants, an honest but wrinkled pair, were 
 then occupied at dinner, which it seems is fashion- 
 able here about one o'clock. The meal consisted 
 of bread and a few small fishes, cooked over a pian of 
 coals for want of a fire-place. As soon however as 
 we could make them comprehend, with our scanty 
 store of Spanish, that we wanted a draught of wine, 
 they set out a light wooden table and a bench, be- 
 tween the two doors, in such a manner that the wind 
 blew on us fresh from the bay ; and placed before us a 
 bottle of Malaga wine. When the old woman had 
 dined, she took a seat near us with some coarse needle- 
 work in her hands, and with an intention half hospita- 
 ble, half curious, began to remark on the pleasantness 
 of the weather. Several fowls, and a large black pig 
 without a single hair upon his skin, were called in 
 appropriate chuckles, and a dish of Indian corn was 
 furnished them : and we looked around us with plea- 
 sure, on the few and simple objects which supplied 
 these honest old folks with comfort and content. The 
 
VOYAGE UP THE MEDITERRANE AIN . 37 
 
 larder and the wardrobe occupied but little space, 
 and the few rough tools and utensils they possessed, 
 found ready lodging between the reeds of which the 
 walls were made; and there we observed a few bits 
 of harmless finery, and the rosary and crucifix with 
 which the good woman decorates herself, for a walk 
 to the church of San Roque on Sabbath and holy-day. 
 
 The scenery under our eyes excited our admiration ; 
 for the door, humble as it was, commanded an unin- 
 terrupted view of the rock and bay of Gibraltar, the 
 Straits, and the opposite African coast; and every 
 vessel in the harbour and every foreign ship sailing 
 from one ocean to the other, aflforded its portion of 
 pleasure to the tranquil minds of this aged Andalu- 
 sian pair, who had looked out upon them, with little 
 knowledge of their cargoes or their destination, for 
 half a century. " Yet," said the good woman with 
 a melancholy look, " the place will never again be as 
 pleasant as 1 have seen it. I have had seven little 
 children who have played around me on this floor: 
 but the last of them died many years ago, leaving our 
 home desolate, and every thing gloomy on which we 
 used to look." 
 
 At sea. — December 13. Yesterday afternoon we set 
 sail with a very light breeze and pleasant weather, 
 and our anchor was got up at the bows, to be thrown 
 only on the coast of Italy. This was a delightful con- 
 sideration; and it was natural to look forward with 
 pleasure towards that attractive country, so soon to 
 lie in our po^ession, with all its interesting sites and 
 venerable antiquities. An old Italian had engaged a 
 birth on board our vessel, but we presumed some acci- 
 dent had happened to detain him, for though his 
 trunk and bales were on board, and we had waited 
 for him a length of time, he did not make his appear- 
 
38 VOYAGE UP THE MEDITERRANEAN. 
 
 ance. All the boats coming from the shore were nar- 
 rowly examined through our glass; but thej either 
 belonged to some vessel in the harbour, or were 
 bound with fishermen or passengers to Algesiras, and 
 in that case frequently passed us with merry jests at 
 our foreign appearance, which we but half under- 
 stood, and therefore endured very well. In the even- 
 ing, the Rock of Gibraltar appeared like a sharp, 
 conical mountain, being seen directly endwise. 
 
 At eight o'clock, when it was quite dark, and we 
 had reached the mouth of the bay, we were hailed by 
 a boat, that in a few minutes came alongside, with two 
 Genoese rowers and our fellow passenger. He imme- 
 diately began to give orders of where to go and what 
 to do, of which however we comprehended but little, 
 as he spoke Italian ; but there was a life and energy 
 in his voice and manner, which promised to survive the 
 excitement of the occasion. His hair was white with 
 age, as was evident when he took off his hat, in spite 
 of the darkness of the evening, and this circumstance 
 rendered his vociferous activity still more surprising. 
 He was soon clambering up the side — a short old man 
 in a blue coat, tight flesh-coloured pantaloons, and 
 a scarlet sash tied about his waist in the Spanish 
 fashion. As soon as he touched the deck, he seemed 
 quite wild with joy ; caught the captain in his arms, 
 embraced him like a brother, and talked his unintel- 
 ligible language so fast, that he set us all laughing 
 in spite of ourselves. Two or three Italian words, 
 which I mustered not without much d^Hculty, made 
 him quit his hold, spring upon me with extravagant 
 joy, and exclaim in Spanish and Italian, " Ah my dear 
 friend, how delighted I am to see you ! What beauti- 
 ful weather ! What a lovely night !" Then skipping 
 away as suddenly, he went to tell the boatmen to ban* 
 
VOYAGE UP THE MEDITERRANEAN. 39 
 
 die every thing with great care, particularly the "chi- 
 corriditos." These last proved to be nothing more 
 nor less than six green parrots, chained to their 
 perches, which with three large trunks were handed 
 down below. 
 
 When the boatmen came on board to receive their 
 wages, a most ludicrous scene took place. The 
 demand was two dollars, which the Italian pronoun- 
 ced in a loud voice to be exorbitant. They per- 
 sisted ; — and both parties were instantly in a transport 
 of rage. The old man threw himself into a thousand 
 nervous attitudes, each of which shook him all over; 
 and talked so vehemently between, that his voice 
 failed him several limes, and he stopped on the verge 
 of suffocation. Two dollars, the boatmen protested, 
 was the least they could take, and with much throw- 
 ing about of the arms and clenching of the fists, called 
 the saints to witness that they were not extortionate. 
 The naming of the saints however, even St. Antonio, 
 who was repeatedly called, had no effect on the 
 obstinate old man, who showed, besides, a wonder- 
 ful dauntlessness ; while to us, the exasperated boat- 
 men seemed ready to slay him outright. At length 
 they turned to go to their boat : but, suddenly 
 recollecting themselves, approached the old man 
 with extended hands, and with every appearance of 
 cordiality wished him much happiness and a good 
 voyage. So instantaneous a change from hot to cold 
 was never seen in our climate ; — now they had smiling 
 faces, and reduced their loud voices to the unimpas- 
 sioned tones of common conversation. The sight of 
 a solitary dollar, which the old man tendered them in 
 a very amicable manner, was like another shock of 
 electricity, and a new storm ensued. The three 
 voices were again mingled in deafening and bewilder-^ 
 
40 VOYAGE UP THE MEDITERRANEAN. 
 
 ing confusion ; and through the stillness of the night, 
 the sound might perhaps have been heard even in 
 Gibraltar. The issue was that the full price was 
 paid ; and the boatmen left us with many blessings 
 invoked on our voyage. 
 
 Our new companion now began, in high glee, to 
 give us the reasons of his leaving Gibraltar so late. 
 He had got several luxuries prepared for his voyage, 
 and when just ready to come off, recollected that they 
 were at a friend's house on shore. But he was de- 
 tained until the time of shutting the gates of the gar- 
 rison, and then forced to fly from the embraces of his 
 friends, and rushed through the crowd with the utmost 
 precipitation, leaving behind him a quantity of fresh 
 bread, two casks of wine, and a bottle of excellent 
 snuff This account was attended throughout with 
 appropriate signs, by which alone we understood 
 him, and fortunately he expressed himself in that way 
 with the utmost facility. He ran about the quarter- 
 deck, screaming and pretending to pull about the 
 Rock Scorpions without ceremony : — he was the last 
 through the wicket-door at the gate; — he sprung 
 headlong from the mole into the boat. But he stop- 
 ped ; — the loss of his wine, his bread and his snuff 
 came across his memory. " Oh what a misfortune !" 
 said he, " nothing to drink but water, no snuff," 
 except a little he showed us in his box ; and he threw 
 up his eyes, clasped his hands, shut his lips closely 
 together, and uttered a sigh and a groan in one breath 
 — an explosion of grief peculiar to himself. Then 
 shrugging his shoulders and assuming an air of great 
 resignation, he calmly whispered, " ma patienza !" 
 [but patience !] 
 
 A new thought now struck him, and he began to 
 search for something on deck. It was dark, and as 
 
VOYAGE TO NAPLES. 41 
 
 he felt every where, under the long-boat, and among 
 the water-casks which are stowed near it ; he talked 
 to himself, but with such volubility that we could not 
 separate from the mass a single intelligible word. 
 He roared out to the boat, and received an answer 
 which did not satisfy him : he besought them to return, 
 but they replied coldly and proceeded. This was 
 the perfection of his distress. He jumped, clapped 
 his hands, and stamped ; speaking exceedingly fast, 
 and ejaculating from time to time in a voice that 
 made our ears ring. He grew calm again however in 
 a moment, and having said, " patienza !" told us that 
 two of his parrots were missing. " Dos chiquitos !" 
 he said in Spanish, [two pretty little creatures!] and 
 then added in Italian, " Ah ! ch'erano belli !" [how 
 beautiful they were !] and hiding his face in his hands, 
 seemed once more overcome by his loss. 
 
 At sea. — December 1 6. We suppose ourselves about 
 ninety miles south-west of the island of Sardinia, and 
 are sailing along briskly with a fine wind, and warm, 
 delightful weather. After leaving Gibraltar, the 
 mountainous coast of Spain and Africa long remained 
 in sight, until the increasing breadth of the Medi- 
 terranean gradually removed them to too great a dis- 
 tance. 
 
 Mattia, our singular companion, is a Neapolitan ; 
 and, according to his own account, has formerly made 
 no small display in Naples with a splendid equipage, 
 and a gay and dissipated life. He is not inclined to 
 particularise on the cause of a change of fortune; but 
 hints at the treachery of friends whom he despises, and 
 declares that he is perfectly contented to wander 
 about the Mediterranean from port to port, as he has 
 done for many years, carrying on a little trade, no- 
 ticing the peculiarities of different countries, and visit- 
 
 6 
 
42 VOYAGE TO NAPLES. 
 
 ing the few friends he has left in the world. His dis- 
 position is very amiable and obliging, and his liveli- 
 ness and mirth are inexhaustible, notwithstanding his 
 age, which is full sixty. He will sit down and kiss 
 and talk to his favourite parrot half an hour together, 
 feed his fowls, or kill and dress them, to the tune of a 
 Spanish fandango ; roar out " viva !" to every one 
 that sneezes, praise the brig for a " bel barco ;'^ 
 call Saint Antonio our " buon amico" for giving us 
 a favourable w^ind ; and sigh with a look of meek- 
 ness when he remembers the luxuries he has left at 
 Gibraltar — " two casks of wine, two thousand segars, 
 and a bottle of tobacco-for-the-nose : — ah, patienza !'' 
 He chose to bring his own provisions with him : and 
 retiring to a corner of the cabin three or four times a 
 day, and ranging his parrots about him, he lays aside his 
 red woollen cap, and prepares for a meal. A Gibraltar 
 onion, three or four inches in diameter, with a dry bis- 
 cuit, and a bit of bacon, or, on Friday, a little salt fish, 
 is placed on a clean handkerchief, spread across his 
 knees ; a knife is produced from a pocket where he 
 keeps his pipe ; and, all being ready, he composes his 
 laughing face into an expression of profound gravity, 
 whispers a short prayer^ crosses himself, and begins 
 to eat in perfect silence. His manners have a natural 
 polish, somewhat surprising in a man of his dress and 
 
 condition ; and Captain is always treated with 
 
 the utmost deference and respect, " because he is a 
 thorough pilot, and commands so fine a vessel." The 
 whimsical old man feeds the parrots from his own 
 scanty store ; and if the captain is present, interdicts 
 all the social prattle in which they are fond of indul- 
 ging, and holds their mouths, if they attempt to raise 
 their voices. He delights in rummaging over the nu- 
 merous articles with which his trunks are crowded : 
 
VOYAGE TO NAPLE>S. 43 
 
 suits of clothes of various fashions ; sets of curtains, 
 and table furniture; pictures; provisions; presents and 
 curiosities. "This walking-stick," said he, "with a 
 hollow to conceal money, was given me in Malaga — 
 with this sword [ killed two robbers who attacked me 
 on the road to Rome." He has been at Tunis, and 
 will sit down on deck, with his legs crossed under 
 him, to show us how the Turks smoke and drink cof- 
 fee. Besides, he abounds in anecdotes which he re- 
 counts to us with great force and animation; more 
 than half by the use of signs, and never fails to excite 
 our interest by a tale of distress, or to make us laugh 
 at some ludicrous narrative, clothed and quickened 
 by his own wit. 
 
 Off Sardinia. — December 17. The land was disco- 
 vered about noon ; and at sun-set we had approached 
 near enough to render its mountainous coasts a feature, 
 and a striking one, in the monotonous scenery of a mari- 
 time view, though not so near as to discover any thing 
 smaller than cliffs and hills. Two islands, San Pietro 
 and Anticche, lay in front, and behind them rose a tall 
 mountain on the main land of Sardinia. This sight 
 was sufficient to remind Signor Mattia of what he had 
 seen on shore there during some former voyages ; and 
 we have been much amused at the expense of the 
 Sardinians, whom he describes as half savages, living 
 among the mountains, shooting apples off the heads 
 of their children, riding horses without saddle or bri- 
 dle, and racing up and down "like infernals." 
 
 In the height of his good nature, our fantastical 
 companion has already began to form plans for our 
 comfort and amusement after our arrival. His friends 
 (for he has still a few very good friends in Naples) 
 will supply him with an abundance of provisions, fruit, 
 and excellent wine ; the king, who is also his friend, 
 
44 VOYAGE TO NAPLES 
 
 will abridge our quarantine. He longs to show us the 
 street of Toledo during the masquerade, and the thea- 
 tre of San Carlo, which he admires more than any thing 
 else in the world. He professes to have a garden on 
 the side of Mount Vesuvius, every production of 
 which shall be at our service; and he has already 
 given us a sketch in the language of signs, of the 
 ludicrous procession we shall form, bestriding mules 
 and donkies, on the way to his cottage, and to the 
 summit of Vesuvius, whither he intends to conduct 
 us at night with torches. Beside all this, he insists on 
 accompanying us to Rome, though he had before no 
 intention of going there, with the professed design of 
 securing us against the difficulties and dangers which 
 always await travellers on that road. His country- 
 men he pronounces "great thieves," and every thing 
 faithless, with as little hesitation and reserve, as if 
 they were all Sardinians ; and therefore urges us to 
 accept of his escort, lest we should be cheated, rob- 
 bed, and perhaps murdered — which would be a shock- 
 ing thing to our friends, and very discreditable to Italy, 
 as we have been attracted from a world he had never 
 heard of by the fame of his country. The habitual 
 ease with which the old man converses, his vivacity, 
 quickness of apprehension, ingenuity, shrewdness, and 
 acquaintance with the world, (that is, with such a por- 
 tion of it as he has had an opportunity to observe,) 
 form the most striking contract with his low stature, 
 and his unpretending dress. His beard is white, and 
 is suffered to grow under a vow, or at least a promise, 
 never to cut it till we shall be allowed to land at 
 Naples. 
 
 At Sea. — December 20. While approaching a new 
 country, one finds his attention fixed, and his curiosity 
 continually abroad, to catch the earliest intimation of 
 
VOYAGE TO NAPLES. 4/j 
 
 its vicinity ; and is ready to trace some characteristic 
 peculiarity in the first object he meets. We have 
 been delayed by light or adverse winds for several 
 days, sometimes sailing all day, and returning at night 
 almost to the spot from which we had started in the 
 morning, and frequently lying becalmed for hours to- 
 gether. Some amends, however, are made even by 
 the clouds themselves, which seem to dehght in pre- 
 senting the most rich and beautiful colours at sun-rise 
 and sun-set. They cluster about the eastern parts of 
 the sky before the dawn, there remaining to reflect 
 the first light of day ; and then, as it increases and 
 changes, each seizing a beam of its favourite hue, and 
 arraying itself as with a gay and changeable robe, 
 waits till the sun shines out fair and bright, in the 
 midst of a profusion of blue, purple, rose, orange, and 
 gold. The evenings, too, have been no less delight- 
 ful; and we are half inclined to allow the Italian sky 
 the superiority it claims over the whole world, though 
 the captain declares, that, in forty years' sailing, he 
 has never seen a coast where the stars are so nume- 
 rous and so brilliant as that of America in a cold win- 
 ter night. The eye of so experienced a navigator, 
 long accustomed to observations on the sky in various 
 climates, including several parts of the Mediterranean, 
 is certainly worthy of no small confidence : yet, the 
 transparency of the atmosphere, and the rich colours 
 of the sky, I certainly have never seen surpassed. 
 Besides, we are happy to find that nature, accord- 
 ing to her usual taste, here delights more in delicate, 
 than in gaudy hues, and in rich combinations, rather 
 than strong and glaring contrasts. This season of 
 the year is usually the most unfavourable, as the win- 
 ter in this southern part of Italy is little better than a 
 succession of cloudy, rainy, cold, and misty weather: 
 
46 VOYAGE TO NAPLES. 
 
 and the unexpected calms by which we have been 
 detained for several days, as well the probability of 
 dangerous winds, have affected the spirits of some on 
 board, particularly Signor Mattia. The guardain 
 saint of all sailors had showed him a particular fa- 
 vour, in carrying the vessel from Gibraltar to Sardinia 
 in four days; so that, like most other men in pros- 
 perity, he had calculated on many successive bless- 
 ings. He feels himself bound, however, to conceal 
 his disappointment, lest the holy saints should lose 
 credit in the eyes of us unbelievers; and on hearing 
 a remark yesterday, that St. Antonio was no longer 
 our friend, he insisted that we were all his favourites 
 as much as ever, but that he doubtless had other 
 friends who were bound westward, and the winds had 
 changed on their account. Then taking up the tone of 
 an instructer, which better suited his gray hairs than 
 the accustomed levity of his conversation, he added : 
 " My dear friends, you must not expect uninterrupted 
 prosperity: this is not the world for perfect happiness. 
 La ros' ha bel odore, ma tenga una spina che vi 
 spunge." [The rose has an agreeable odour, but it 
 has also a thorn to wound you.] "The friendship of 
 a saint," remarked one of the party, " is at present of 
 very little value. We might have head winds and calms 
 if left to ourselves. There is no need of St. Antonio." 
 " There is need of patience," he replied a little tartly, 
 and turned on his heel. 
 
 This morning I stood beside him, looking towards 
 the east where the sun was rising among broken 
 clouds, tinging their edges with dazzling light, and 
 shooting up broad red beams through every aperturCj 
 while the waves around us, and every cloud in the 
 distant parts of the sky, like ripening fruit, presented 
 a blushing cheek to the sun. " What a beautiful sight !'^ 
 
VOYAGE TO NAPLES. 47 
 
 exclaimed the old man ; " such a sun, such a sky at 
 this season, when it is usually so cloudy and cold ! 
 Thanks to St. Antonio, we have still delightful wea- 
 ther; and, by his blessing, we are now so near our 
 port, that seventy hours of the very best winds would 
 bring to our destined anchorage." This was so inge- 
 nious, and spoken with so much sincerity, that I had 
 no heart to tell him the saint's conduct, in deserting us 
 at this moment, seemed so much more inexplicable ; 
 and with happy resignation he repeated^ i^ JUa ros' ha 
 belodore." .:h>#^'' 
 
 Dec. 21. One 6^ clock in the morning. We discovered 
 a strange light before us a little while ago, which is 
 remarkably red, and keeps disappearing and shining 
 again, but too irregularly for a light-house. Our nau- 
 tical books are entirely silent on the subject; and the 
 captain was certain there was no beacon hereabouts, 
 when he was on this coast fourteen years ago. It is 
 evidently at a great distance, yet its size is such as dis- 
 countenances the opinion that it is artificial ; and its 
 shape is no less singular, being long and narrow. It 
 remains bright for a moment, and then, gradually fa- 
 ding, soon becomes quite invisible : it reappears with 
 a flash, like a transparent column illuminated by a sud- 
 den fire. " Vesuvius !" cried a man in the shrouds ; 
 and every one on the suggestion was convinced that 
 the mountain was in a state of eruption, and we are 
 happy at the prospect of witnessing the burning of a 
 volcano. 
 
 Dec. 22. Mattia agrees with us in our opinion of 
 the light, but seems to regard it as a matter of no con- 
 sequence, except as it proves our vicinity to Naples — 
 a city he speaks of in the most unbounded praise. 
 Slight eruptions of Vesuvius occur every year; and he 
 declares that the lava now flowing down its sides will 
 
4B VOYAGE TO NAPLES. 
 
 undoubtedly become cool and stop, long before it 
 reaches the villages at its foot, or even the vineyards 
 above them. 
 
 We found, to our disappointment, that the land we 
 had first discovered was not Ischia, but Ponza, one of 
 a cluster of islands off Gaeta, and about sixty miles 
 north of the bay of Naples. The weather this morn- 
 ing is clear but cold ; and we are yet surrounded by 
 the islands, which rise out of the water like walls, 
 with high and precipitous sides of brown, yellow, and 
 whitish rocks, presenting a dreary and discouraging 
 view of coasts apparently inaccessible. They are sup- 
 plied with a few inlets and harbours, which, from the 
 nature of the ground, are usually hidden from the sea, 
 so that a stranger would never suspect their existence. 
 
 Mattia's usual liveliness and humour, however, are 
 able to throw an interest over so dreary a region as 
 this. He tells us of a thousand little vallies and re- 
 cesses among the mountains, where a rich soil has 
 been deposited by the torrents, and where people live 
 sheltered from the storms, among groves of olives green 
 throughout the year. Their employments and their 
 amusements too, he describes with surprising ease 
 and distinctness ; so that he seems no less an agricul- 
 turist and a fisherman than a sailor. After a most ani- 
 mated imitation of the mode in which they catch eels 
 with long spears, one of the crew burst into a hearty 
 fit of laughter, and declared it was "just exactly so as 
 he'd caught 'em himself in Connecticut river." 
 
 Dec, 23. One o'clock in the morning. It has been so 
 calm during the night, that we have hardly moved ; 
 indeed we have had so little wind for a day or two 
 that we are almost in the very place we left yesterday 
 morning. Vesuvius occasionally appears, whenever the 
 intervening land is not too elevated; and yesterday 
 
VOYAGE TO NAPLES, 49 
 
 afternoon we could clearly distinguish its conical form, 
 though at the distance of forty-five miles. By a calcu- 
 lation, it proves to have been full sixty miles off when 
 the light was first observed. A few minutes ago I came 
 on deck, and looking towards the volcano, which was 
 shining brilliantly, a broader light appeared just be- 
 low, and though much paler than the other, preserved 
 the same appearance without change. On searching 
 for the old man I found him sitting beside the caboose, 
 with his pipe in his mouth, and very much agitated. 
 His tone too was melancholy, in a degree I never had 
 heard from him. " Ah," cried he, '' how unfortunate 
 they are at Vesuvius ! My dear friend there is an 
 eruption of the mountain !" Then taking the pipe from 
 his mouth, he stepped out on deck, and pointing to- 
 wards the light, said in a voice of unaffected sorrow, 
 " Ah, what a fire ! My dear friend, Torre del Greco 
 has been destroyed nine times already, and I fear it is 
 now to be overwhelmed again." " But is your garden 
 out of danger ?" " That will depend," he replied, " on 
 the course it takes. If it runs in the old channel it is 
 safe, if it finds a new course I shall lose all. It will cost 
 me more than a thousand dollars. But that is a matter 
 of no moment compared with the distress it may occa- 
 sion. It is very easy for you to think lightly of the sub-^ 
 ject ; but I have been in the vicinity when the moun- 
 tain burst out in flames, and poured down a river of 
 fire which swept away a town, and even drove back 
 the sea from its shores. If you had seen the dark night 
 illuminated by that supernatural fire, and heard the 
 screams of wretched families flying from their homes, 
 you would not wonder at the melancholy with which 
 this sight always fills me. Ah, what a fire ! What ruin t 
 What devastation !" I could not but sympathize with 
 him in his unaffected distress, and feel interested for 
 
50 VOYAGE TO NAPLES. 
 
 the welfare of a country, in which so honest and gene- 
 rous a heart was bound up. 
 
 The night is clear and pleasant, and the air quite 
 dry, notwithstanding the remarkable dews which often 
 fall in this climate, almost like showers, and have some- 
 times covered the deck with large drops of water. 
 There is hardly wind enough to ruffle the sea, and the 
 moon shines *so bright, as to justify a description Vir- 
 gil gives of a night scene on this coast nearly two thou- 
 sand years ago. 
 
 " Adspirant auras ia noctem, nee Candida cursum 
 Luna neg-at ; splendet tremulo sub lumine pontus." 
 
 [The wind blows softly in the night, nor does the white moon refuse to per- 
 form her course ; the ocean glitters in the trembling light.} 
 
 Dec, 24. This evening we are beating up between 
 the island of Ischia and the promontory of Misenum, 
 through one of the channels into the bay of Naples. 
 About noon we passed so near the island, that we could 
 see white houses scattered about the shore, and culti- 
 vated grounds formed of small terraces, like sheep- 
 paths, on a very high and steep hill. The whole island, 
 which is sixteen miles in circuit, is in fact a single 
 mountain, apparently of solid rock, with only a little 
 soil collected into hollow spots, it contains several 
 towns, some of which are celebrated for springs of va- 
 rious sorts, and are the resort of many strangers, prin- 
 cipally English. 
 
 While I am writing, we have entered the channel 
 between Misenum and the small island of Procida ; the 
 head-wind has increased to a gale, and as the captain 
 is not acquainted with the passage', we are obliged to 
 tack very often. Whenever we come near Procida, 
 we can see a great many lights among the streets, some 
 very large, and moving briskly up and down, throning 
 gigantic shadows of men's heads and arms against the 
 
VOYAGE TO NAPLES. 5£ 
 
 houses. This, our oracle says, is on account of the usual 
 rejoicings on Christmas eve ; and he wishes we were 
 all once well on shore among the people, whose condi- 
 tion is so different from our own. It is with pleasure 
 I remember my own country, and the society in which 
 I spent this evening last year: a group of happy 
 friends, about the generous kitchen fire of a Massachu- 
 setts farmer ; and 1 sincerely hope to be again sur- 
 rounded, at some future time, by the virtuous, cordial 
 inhabitants, the invaluable old customs, the substantial 
 comforts of New England, 
 
 On board, in the harbour of Naples. Dec, 25. Even- 
 ing, After we had got^ well into the bay, as the gale 
 still continued, we lay-to until morning, when we found 
 ourselves so near the island of Capri, that the white 
 houses were in sight, notwithstanding the misty weather. 
 The island is much smaller than Ischia, though of 
 equally bold outlines. We soon took a fair wind, and 
 filled away for Naples. Occasionally the wind cleared 
 away the mist, so that we could distinguish very high 
 land in several directions, though it was long before 
 w^e could form any idea of the peculiar beauties of the 
 bay; and as there were frequent showers, this land of 
 promise seemed, in no way, materially different from 
 our own matter-of-fact country. 
 
 We made little progress for some time, on account 
 of the changeableness of the wind, though we had a 
 heavy sea in our favour : but things by and by began 
 to improve, and the prospect became finer, by our 
 gradual approach to the other side of the bay, and by 
 the dispersing of the clouds of mist. Mount Vesuvius, 
 which had been so entirely concealed that we knew 
 not where to look for it, all at once freed itself from 
 the clouds, and stood supporting a heavy column of 
 dark smoke, which rose to a great height, and remain- 
 
•32 VOYAGE TO NAPLES. 
 
 ed motionless, as if above the influence of the wind ; 
 while the fumes were rising from two distinct courses of 
 lava, about three quarters of the distance towards the 
 summit. The sun now broke from the clouds, and 
 shone full upon a range of large white structures, five 
 or six miles ahead, spreading along the shore, and 
 reaching up to the top of a hill, a little to the left. The 
 cupolas of many churches appeared above, and at the 
 distance of fifteen miles, a ridge of mountains was 
 seen beyond them, white with snow. Twelve or fifteen 
 ships of the line and frigates lay in full view, and the 
 masts of many merchantmen began to be discovered, 
 clustered close together; and Naples lay before us 
 in all her beauty and magnificence. On the left was 
 Posilipo, a high hill five miles in length, descending 
 abruptly to the water, and charmingly varied with 
 villas and hanging gardens. Behind us, and full twenty 
 miles offj was the island of Capri, with a broken out- 
 line like a blue cloud ; and from Capo Campanella, the 
 southern boundary of the bay, the whole eastern shore 
 rose hastily to dark hills, half covered with vines and 
 olive trees, in some places succeeded by the summits 
 of the distant Appennines. Mount Vesuvius, on the 
 right, rose from an extensive plain, with a long gra- 
 dual sweep, nearly abreast of us, marked along the 
 shore with a narrow line of white villages, and scatter- 
 ed with a thousand cottages and villas, as small to 
 the eye as grains of sand ; which shone whenever the 
 sun touched them, and showed, by contrast, the over- 
 whelming size of the mountain. New objects were 
 unfolding every instant; the city seemed extending 
 its size; and gardens, houses, and palaces, grew up 
 under our eyes, like objects through a microscope. 
 
 We had soon passed the large ships of war anchor- 
 ed in the bay, and were under the guns of the new cas- 
 
VOYAGE TO NAPLES. 53 
 
 tie, when two boats, painted with bright colours, came 
 round the mole, arid hailed us. One contained a pilot 
 who spoke English, and took command of the vessel 
 without coming on board. The good-natured face of 
 our old mess-mate was seen at the companion-way : for 
 he had heard the noisy fellows bawling to us, now on 
 this side, now on that ; and had come up with his red 
 cap, long gray beard, and ear-rings. One or two of 
 the boatmen recognized him, called him " Mattia," 
 familiarly, and a most animated dialogue instantly be- 
 gan, by which we were convinced that the Neapoli- 
 tans are not a whit behind the inhabitants of Gibraltar 
 in noise or gesture. We were now amidst the bustle 
 common on such occasions, not a little increased by a 
 large brig following us, which seemed to be in danger 
 of running foul of our vessel ; and the crew, gathering 
 forward, screamed with all their might in French to 
 our helmsman, who deigned not to regard them, never 
 moving the tiller a hair, nor altering a muscle of his 
 face. Several reports, as of cannon, had been occa- 
 sionally ringing through the city ; the sounds, however, 
 soon proved to be something more impressive, for a 
 bright flash of lightning crinkled through a cloud, and 
 was instantly succeeded by a clap of the most appalling 
 thunder we had ever heard. It was a succession of 
 several loud, sharp, distinct reports, which rung and 
 echoed among the high buildings and narrow streets, 
 as shrill and clear as if it had been a still, frosty night. 
 Flash after flash succeeded, attended by similar peals 
 of thunder, which seemed to break just over our heads, 
 drowning for a moment the various sounds of busy 
 men, and then, rattled along the side of Vesuvius, 
 and the high coast beyond. This was indeed an ap- 
 propriate and impressive introduction to the . noble 
 scenery of the Bay of Naples. 
 
54 VOYAGE TO NAPLES. 
 
 As soon as we had got round the mole we were in 
 still water, and found ourselves among a great number 
 of vessels moored in rows. There was a long range 
 of white houses, five or six stories high, lining the 
 shore, and following it about a mile and a half to the 
 right, in a gentle curve. Other buildings were scat- 
 tered here and there on the margin of the bay, which 
 takes a sweep of four or five miles, to the foot of Vesu- 
 vius. 
 
 Boats crowded round us with men of all conditions, 
 many of whom recognized with great joy their singu- 
 lar countryman ; and though some of them were fisher- 
 men in ragged clothes, and others merchants with 
 spruce black dresses and powdered hair, they all ma- 
 nifested equal surprise and joy, and called him with 
 equal familiarity plain " Mattia." Several boats came 
 off expressly to speak with him, and after compliments 
 and kind words returned. The old man's heart seemed 
 actually to boil over with delight, and he often made as 
 if he would leap from the vessel. He returned to the 
 unbounded hilarity of childhood — he was once more at 
 Naples, the gathering place of all his happiness ; and 
 the memory of the various scenes he had passed 
 through since he left it, seemed to impregnate with 
 delight the very air he breathed, and gave him a de- 
 gree of importance in his own eyes, because he knew 
 that those who live at home hold a returning traveller 
 in great, though undefined respect. He took care, 
 therefore, to introduce into every sentence a few Spa- 
 nish words, of which he possesses some dozens; and 
 he even laid claim to an indifferent knowledge of En- 
 glish, though all our instructions have hardly been able 
 to instil into his obdurate memory, the names for ship- 
 bread and the cabin-boy. To our surprise, the lan- 
 guage spoken by all around us was such a jumble of 
 
NAPLES. ^'^ 
 
 strange sounds, that we found the utmost difficulty in 
 tracing any resemblance to Italian : indeed, we at all 
 times judged of the subject of conversation, more by 
 the looks, tones, and gestures of the speaker, than by 
 the words he uttered. Their speech is quite over- 
 loaded with vowels, pronounced with great distinct- 
 ness, and frequently with a monotonous drawl, like a 
 complaining child. The old man's tongue readily 
 joined the chime of his native dialect, and changing 
 from its usual tone, he screamed and drawled, and be- 
 came as unintelligible as his countrymen. 
 
 Among the reiterated welcomes from all sides, none 
 were more hearty or more pleasant to behold, than 
 those from Mattia's faithful servant, Giovanni : a pale, 
 emaciated man, with a beseeching look, whose ap- 
 pearance and dress denoted the faded fortunes of his 
 master, no less than his attachment bore testimony to 
 the kindness of his heart. He heard, with the warm- 
 est gratitude, how St. Antonio had taken him under his 
 care, granted him the peculiar favours of good health, a 
 prosperous voyage, and inclined toward him the hearts 
 of strangers. He communicated in return, various items 
 of family news, some of which caused in his master 
 sighs and clasped hands, and others a loud laugh, and 
 a short dance on deck. The good fellow gladly set off 
 for provisions, and soon returned with two gallons of 
 excellent red wine from Vesuvius, a quantity of oran- 
 ges, and two fowls dressed with sprigs of box, on ac- 
 count of the great feast of Christmas. Several choice 
 dishes ready cooked, with a bundle of wearing appa- 
 rel, and some " tobacco for the nose," were added by 
 the attention of some friends, who expressed a strong 
 desire to see the old man once more on shore. 
 
 Naples, on board. — December 26. We learn, from 
 the American consul, that we have been sentenced 
 
56 NAPLES. 
 
 to a quarantine of twenty-one days, as a quantity 
 of nankins, of which our cargo partly consists, are 
 considered peculiarly susceptible of contagion : be- 
 cause no official accounts have lately been received 
 from Spain, although the plague had entirely disap- 
 peared long before we left Gibraltar. We are to leave 
 this harbour, therefore, as soon as possible, and go to 
 Nisita, a small island in the bay of Pozzuoli, which is 
 a recess in the great bay of Naples, about five miles 
 distant. This is a great disappointment to us, after 
 the hopes we have entertained of being speedily allow- 
 ed to land, and to mingle with the crowds of the city, 
 which we have already reconnoitred with our glasses 
 along the quays, and in front of the tall white buildings 
 which cluster on the shore. There we see citizens 
 riding by in coaches and on horseback ; peasants gau- 
 dily dressed ; and groups of pale and wretched beg- 
 gars, all unconscious of our observation. 
 
 Two musicians have taken the pains to honour our 
 arrival with a most singular serenade. One of them, 
 an old man of seventy, bore an instrument like a bag- 
 pipe in form, but of triple the size, called zambogna- 
 da ; and the other, a boy of twelve, played a sort of 
 flageolet, called ceramele. They were dressed in 
 coats of sheep-skins, the sleeves of which were of se- 
 parate pieces, fastened together with a strap behind. 
 Instead of stockings, they wore rags upon their legs, 
 bound about with strings. The boy had a high coni- 
 cal hat, and a leathern pocket, or scrip, hung by his 
 side ; and the dress of both was so singular and anti- 
 quated, that we concluded they must be the inhabitants 
 of some secluded spot, inaccessible to the changes 
 of costume, and the votaries of a fashion at least a 
 thousand years old. They were from some distant 
 part of Calabria ; and our mirth was not a little exci'* 
 
NISITA.— IN QUARANTINE. 57 
 
 ted by their discordant notes, sometimes accompanied 
 with dancing. The boy would occasionally check his 
 pipe, and substitute a cracked voice, with the gesture, 
 air, and gravity of an accomplished singer, and with a 
 most irresistible effect. 
 
 Some Neapolitan troops embarked to-day for Sicily ; 
 and it was a melancholy sight to watch the friends of 
 the soldiers, crowding the shore to bid them farewell, 
 and then to observe through the spy-glass, the down- 
 cast looks and last signals of friends and sisters, sons 
 and mothers. 
 
 We have received various accounts respecting Mat- 
 tia. One says that he has squandered an estate of an 
 hundred thousand dollars : — an immense sum in this 
 country, and has become poor and crack-brained, in 
 consequence of his prodigality and dissipation. Ano- 
 ther declares, that he is still very rich, but will soon 
 reduce himself to indigence. Some choose to evade 
 a precise answer, by shrugging their shoulders myste- 
 riously, and tapping their foreheads, so as to leave it 
 doubtful whether they mean that he has lost his wits, 
 or that he never had any. 
 
 NisiTA, IN QUARANTINE. — December 27. The morning 
 was delightful, as we made sail and moved into the 
 bay, with a light wind, on our way to this retired 
 spot. Vesuvius stood behind us, with nothing be- 
 tween but two frigates, and several fishing vessels. 
 We sailed along near the shore of Posilipo, which is 
 a steep hill several hundred feet high, and fiwe miles 
 long, and whose broken surface has been cut down 
 with great labour into terraces, and thus is covered 
 with hanging gardens. Here we passed by vineyards, 
 orange-groves, and fields of flowers, interspersed with 
 many beautiful houses, and villas, and varied by the 
 natural undulations of the surface. A fine road, the 
 
 8 
 
5{j JSIS1TA.-1N QUARANTINE. 
 
 work of Murat, traverses the hill, gradually rising 
 from the shore, crossing numerous ravines on arched 
 bridges, and reaching the summit near the western 
 extremity, which is a bluff, three or four hundred feet 
 high, and overlooks, at the distance of half a mile, 
 the island of Nisita, the place of our retirement. 
 
 North-west from this spot is the bay of Pozzuoli, 
 whose hilly coast was formerly covered with many 
 magnificent cities, and was the most populous tract of 
 country in all this vicinity. Here were the harbours 
 of Puteoli, Julius, Baiae, Misenum, &c. the cities of 
 Puteoli, Cumae, Baiae, Baulis, Linternum, and Mise- 
 num ; the lakes of Avernus and Acheron ; the Elysian 
 Fields : and, in short, all that region sometimes called 
 the Baian coast, once so crowded by the edifices of 
 the luxurious citizens, and the magnificent emperors 
 of Rome, and into whose history Virgil has thrown so 
 much of the enchantment of poetry. 
 
 As we came slowly round the island of Nisita, this j 
 noble bay gradually opened to our view : but the irre- 
 gular hills by which it is surrounded, bore no signs of 
 inhabitants, except two or three villages, situated se- 
 veral miles from each other ; and the soil was not only ! 
 destitute of trees, but unenclosed and neglected, pre- 
 senting every where a surface brown with dry grass. 
 
 The dreariness of this scene was the more striking, 
 as it succeeded the bustle of Naples ; and our spi- 
 rits began to sink at the melancholy prospect before 
 us, till having sailed under the lofty cliffs of the island, 
 from which an old castle was looking down, we got 
 round the mole, and entered the quarantine ground. 
 Here, under the shadow of a precipice two hundred 
 feet high, lay at their moorings seven or eight vessels 
 loaded with wheat, from the Black Sea, modelled with 
 peculiar beautv, and manned with Greek sailors, whose 
 
NISITA.—IN QUARANTINE. 59 
 
 singular costume at once excited our surprise and our 
 mirth: for while their loose coats, flowing trowsers, 
 and coloured turbans, made us question whether they 
 were not women, their deep scowling eyes, and black 
 mustachios, gave them the expression of fierce ban- 
 ditti. 
 
 We soon came to our destined moorings, with the 
 row of Greek vessels on our left, under the shade of 
 the island, and almost touching the Enigheden of Sand- 
 borg^ a Danish brig, which lay within a few yards of 
 the shore. The striped volcanic rocks which almost 
 overhang us, are worn so ragged by the elements, as 
 to present a fantastic outline, when seen against the 
 sky ; and the chirping of Httle birds is heard among 
 the shrubs clustering in the crevices, and the ever- 
 green olive trees peeping over the verge of the preci- 
 pice, which rises to such a height above us, that it 
 threatens to intercept the sun's light nearly half the 
 day. In front, at the distance of half a mile, is the 
 bold bluff of Posilipo, formed of yellowish volcanic 
 rock, and descending on the left to the valley of Bagn- 
 uoli, which is covered with a forest of tall trees, sup- 
 porting vines in beautiful festoons. Two or three 
 mountains on the other side of the bay of Naples, are 
 visible between Nisita and Posilipo ; and at the base 
 of the latter stands a small insulated rock, called the 
 Lazaretto, where the stores for quarantine goods are 
 formed, partly by building, and partly by excavations. 
 The view is bounded on the left by a range of unin- 
 habited hills, terminating at Pozzuoli ; a miserable 
 town on the scite of the ancient Puteoli. From this 
 place, opens the broad bay of the same name ; which, 
 with the opposite coast of Baiae, about four miles dis- 
 tant, is brought under our view by going up the shrouds 
 high enough to overlook the mole. 
 
(JO NISITA.— IN QUARANTINE. 
 
 Mattia has conceived so strong a prejudice against 
 the whole Greek nation, that he particularly requested 
 we would say nothing to them, and even that we would 
 not look that way; professing to know them of old, 
 and to have found them ev^en worse than the Neapoli- 
 tans : " and they," he cried, beginning to change colour 
 again, " they are a nation of thieves and robbers.^ — 
 Oh ! how hard it is to be the victims of their plots ; — 
 to be consigned to the pilfering hands of the quaran- 
 tine guard," pointing to their hut on the mole, " and 
 to the Cavagliere, and his gang," pointing at the Laza- 
 retto, " and all under pretence of a dread of the 
 plague ! Oh ! this vessel that came from Gibraltar to 
 Sardinia in four days, and our captain, the best pilot 
 that ever sailed the Mediterranean I — let me tell you, 
 1 know Naples — I know NeapoHtans — I tell you they 
 have brought us here to rob us — T wish with all my 
 heart the king were in the city? he is my friend, and 
 never would have permitted us to come to this place. 
 It is the most unfortunate thing that could have hap- 
 pened to us, that he is gone at this time. Every thing 
 goes wrong with us. It is only three or four days 
 since he sailed for Leghorn, to meet the congress of 
 sovereigns at Laybach. But this is a pretence; he 
 never intends to return. The government has been 
 overturned by the Carbonari, who last summer pro- 
 claimed the constitution of Spain, and have now be- 
 come so powerful, that it is no longer safe for the mo- 
 narch of the country to remain in his own dominions. 
 His son Ferdinand is regent, or, as he is called. Gene- 
 ral of the Constitution : but he is a revolutionist, and 
 cares little for the friends of his father. His father 
 has called me friend. I knew him when he was a chico^ 
 [a little boy,] and he never has forgotten Mattia. I 
 had once a large parrot with silvery eyes, the most 
 
NISITA.— IN QUARANTINE. 61 
 
 beautiful bird in Italy. I bought it for an immense 
 sum ; for, whatever jou may think of me now, I once 
 threw gold away by hand-fulls. The king saw it, 
 and inquired if I would sell it. 1 told him I valued it 
 more than money ; yet, said I, all I have is my king's, 
 and if he will accept of the bird, I shall feel myself 
 most highly honoured. The next day he offered me 
 the command of a frigate ; but I told him that I me- 
 rited nothing, by his acceptance of my gift he having 
 left me doubly his debtor. Oh ! he never would have 
 permitted me to come to this den of thieves. Yet 
 things are changed, and mark well, and remember my 
 words, " II re di Napoli non ha piu regno — il re di Na- 
 poli non e piu re." [The king of Naples has no lon- 
 ger a kingdom — the king of Naples is no longer a 
 king.] But captain, my dear captain, trust to me. 
 You shall not be wronged. I am a Neapolitan as well 
 as they, and will prevent their impositions. I know 
 the prices of things on shore, and in these scales I 
 will weigh what they sell you, and detect their short 
 weight. Do not be cast down, then — patienza ! By 
 and by we shall get on shore, and all our troubles will 
 be ended." So saying, his countenance brightened, 
 and he began to dance a fandango, with the agility of 
 a boy; then clapping us on the shoulders, and looking 
 cheerfully into our faces, he brought out his wine, and 
 pledged us in a bumper, saying there was no reason 
 for being either melancholy or abstemious, for the sur- 
 rounding coast was peopled with his friends, and he 
 was sure of supplies as abundant as if he were at Na- 
 ples itself. " I have friends," said he, " at Pozzuoli, 
 at Baia, at Procida, at Ischia, at Capri, at Posilipo, 
 and," to complete a Neapolitan enumeration, ^'"iieW 
 inferno.''^ 
 
t)2 NISITA.— IN QUARANTINE. 
 
 NisiTA. — December 28. When the water sparkles at 
 night, it is considered, in the Mediterranean, a pre- 
 cursor of easterly weather. Last evening the waves 
 shone like liquid fire; and to-day we have a wind 
 from east-south-east, with clouds, and a few drops of 
 rain. 
 
 The yellow colour, and the granular appearance of 
 the romantic precipices of Posilipo and Nisita, led us 
 to suppose them formed of sand ; but on close exami- 
 nation, they proved to be solid masses of volcanic 
 rock, of surprising hardness, and of that description 
 sometimes denominated Pozzolana, from the neigh- 
 bouring town of Pozzuoli. The bare precipice above 
 us betrays innumerable concentric strata, of different 
 shades and hues, which preserve the same undula- 
 tions, from the summit to the surface of the water, and 
 are evidently sunk a considerable distance below. 
 Each of these layers, varying in thickness from two 
 or three inches, to several feet, imbeds a great many 
 bits of volcanic stones, which seem to have dropped 
 from the air while the mass was still soft, and retain 
 their form, colour, and texture. Some of them are 
 little sparkling grains, others, small pummice stones, 
 or compact fragments, like variegated marbles, and 
 others still are lumps of black cinders, or scoriaci 
 which mineralogists distinguish by the name of bombs. 
 This singular formation 1 can account for in no other 
 way, than by supposing it the result of numerous de-f 
 positions of sand and ashes, thrown out at different 
 periods by the several volcanoes in the neighbour- 
 hood. Whether this will be thought even plausible, 
 I know not, for I am not skilled in theories; but it 
 seems possible that such a mass, after a course of time, 
 and exposure to wet, might become indurated, as these 
 
NISITA.— IN QUARANTINE. 93 
 
 very rocks, when ground to powder, are well known 
 to make a most durable mortar. The principal objec- 
 tion seems to lie in the number of layers, and the as- 
 tonishing accumulation on the original surface of the 
 earth. 
 
 Whatever be the geological history of this vicinity, 
 however, the appearance of the rocks is strikingly sin- 
 gular and picturesque. The dashing of the water has 
 worn many little caverns at the base, which often give 
 a hollow echo to the waves, while the face of the pre- 
 cipice presents many similar irregularities. Mattia 
 declares it to be the universal tradition, that the cliffs 
 above us at some former age were washed by the 
 ocean, which has since receded to its present level. 
 The warm, yellowish hues of the rocks, form a beau- 
 tiful contrast with the green shrubs and flowering 
 vines, which fasten themselves in every little crevice, 
 though it is impossible to discover the least particle of 
 soil. 
 
 The discharging of our cargo has begun, and we 
 have been allowed to land at the Lazaretto, and 
 amuse ourselves as well as we could on that little 
 rock. We found it the residence of half a dozen rag- 
 ged fellows, and it was not a little surprising, when we 
 stepped out of the boat, to find that they all avoided 
 us, and shrunk into the nearest corner, screaming 
 aloud, if we approached, apparently in the greatest 
 distress. We were not a little irritated at what looked 
 so much like a premeditated insult; and the sailors 
 were ready to fall upon the wretches with the boat's 
 oars. But Mattia begged we would not notice them, 
 saying, that as we were in quarantine, the mere touch 
 of our clothes would subject them to a strict confine- 
 ment for twenty days; and he at length effected a 
 general pacification, and arranged matters so that we 
 
54 NISITA.— IN QUARANTINE. 
 
 might pass and repass with the greatest convenience ; 
 for he showed as much familiarity with the rules of 
 the place, as if he had been in quarantine half his 
 days. Besides, this singular philanthropist knew half 
 this society by name ; and the arrival of " Mattia" 
 seemed to them the harbinger of much enjoyment : 
 for they soon ranged themselves at a convenient dis- 
 tance from him, and listened to what he said, with the 
 looks of men expecting to be pleased. He seasoned 
 his discourse with gifts of tobacco ; and occasionally, 
 taking a pinch of snuff, he placed his box on the 
 ground and retired, while his audience helped them- 
 selves, and prepared for another of his long stories ; 
 which, if we might judge from the laughter they pro- 
 duced, (for the dialect was utterly unintelligible,) were 
 well worthy of record. 
 
 Even the limited space afforded by the Lazaretto, 
 proves an agreeable retreat from the vessel, particu- 
 larly as it commands a much more extensive view, and 
 being exposed to the wind is usually surrounded with 
 dashing waves. There are two little gardens on the 
 brow of a precipice forty and sixty feet above the 
 water, which are supplied with earth brought in boats, 
 and, even at this season of the year, are full of many 
 vegetables we have never seen before, all in a most 
 flourishing condition. 
 
 We are indebted to the old man, not only for a great 
 deal of amusement, but for many opportunities of 
 observing the peculiarities of Neapolitans : for he 
 seems to delight in stirring them to the greatest show 
 of hostility, and then in pacifying them, as if to exhi- 
 bit his countrymen in every point of view. This, though 
 not very comfortable to the subjects themselves, is 
 deeply interesting to him, and was at first highly amu- 
 sing to us: for it seems that the wordy quarrel he 
 
NSIITA.— IN QUARANTINE. 65 
 
 brought with him when he came on board off Gibral- 
 tar, is a fair specimen of half the employment of those 
 by whom we are daily surrounded. These are princi- 
 pally pale, ragged, and effeminate men, without much 
 ostensible business, and apparently the surplus of a 
 beggarly population. But they are, if possible, still 
 more noisy than idle ; and if they do five times less 
 than ordinary men, they talk ten times more. A sin- 
 gle word of raillery from the old man, is sufficient to 
 raise their hasty spirits to the boiling point, and a most 
 violent ebullition is the immediate result. But a cause 
 of provocation is never long wanting among themselves : 
 for scarcely a boat leaves the shore, without an insult- 
 ing address from some quarter, which never fails to 
 bring on a retort, and an engagement of tongues soon 
 becomes universal. The recruits are as noisy and vio- 
 lent as the principals; fists are clenched, bodies thrown 
 into contortions like violent spasms, and the most tre- 
 mendous oaths poured out in torrents. At first we 
 looked with dread at such signs of deadly rage, and 
 expected blood and broken heads : but in an instant 
 all became quiet, and proceeded as if nothing unusual 
 had happened. Unusual indeed it was not, but unac- 
 countable it is still; and we are as much at a loss 
 to explain these sudden transitions from one extre- 
 mity of feeling to the other. Mattia's mind is certainly 
 wrong, but where, it is difficult to tell : for many of 
 those extravagances which seemed to stamp him as a 
 madman, are now converted into national peculiari- 
 ties. He is not, as I can see, a whit more irascible 
 than his countrymen. They all fly into fits of passion 
 as hastily, and yet show that they possess the same 
 control over themselves when in a frenzy. The loud 
 voices and drawling tones which they assume on such 
 occasions, have so often proved them all a set of noisy 
 
 9 
 
QQ NISITA.-IN QUARANTINE. 
 
 cowards, that we no longer give them any notice. We 
 hear them quarrelling twenty times a day, but not a 
 blow has yet been struck. " If they were Yankees," 
 was the reflection of one of our sailors, " half of them 
 would have been dead long ago." Their behaviour 
 forms, indeed, a striking contrast with the noiseless 
 and unimpassioned lives of ourselves, the Danes, and 
 the Greeks, who are all too proud to be affected by 
 their useless clamour. Yet, when undisturbed by 
 passion, the Neapolitans show a vivacity of mind, a 
 propensity to humour and satire, and a natural ease 
 of expression, above all other men 1 have ever seen. 
 The most degraded of those around us, will often 
 enter into a conversation with the greatest appear- 
 ance of wit, fluency, and easy gesture; They never 
 speak without making a motion of the limbs or body 
 correspondent to their words, so that they may be 
 said to speak two languages at once. A deaf and 
 dumb person would often comprehend their mean- 
 ing, by observing the innumerable and expressive 
 signs with which they enforce their words; and they 
 exceed the French in this particular, at least as much 
 as the French exceed ourselves. 
 
 NisiTA. — Dec. 29, A boat came rowing from Pozzu- 
 oli to-day to bring Mattia a present of wine, oranges, 
 &c. with a notice that the friend who had sent them 
 intended to pay him a visit, and bring his wife and 
 children to meet him on the mole. " Three beautiful 
 children !" exclaimed the old man, " two chicos and 
 a chicorridito^''^ for he really loves miniature men and 
 women, and maintains the staunch bachelor doctrine 
 that he alone truly enjoys their smiles and prattle, who 
 is able to fly from their tears and their inharmonious 
 complaints. The Spanish words above quoted, mean 
 small, and very small indeed ; and these, in the jargon he 
 
NISITA— IN QUARANTINE. (57 
 
 uses to US, are applied equally to the glass for rossog- 
 lia, (the famous Neapolitan cordial,) a coal for light- 
 ing his pipe, and to Sam, our little cabin-boy. 
 
 To-day, by a most unlucky accident, the favourite 
 parrot of our non-descript messmate flew on board the 
 Greek brig beside us, much to his chagrin: for he 
 dreaded lest the guards should discover it, and inter- 
 dict its return, as the Greeks lie under an eternal 
 quarantine, on account of the plague vs^hich now rages 
 on the coasts of the Black sea. The crew of the brig 
 collected about the parrot as soon as he touched the 
 deck, and formed a group truly Asiatic, with their 
 round jackets, loose trowsers, legs bare from the knee, 
 and some of them with shaggy great coats and hoods. 
 Their turbans were of different colours, and showed 
 a tuft of red cloth, or dark hair on the crown. A re- 
 quest was made that the guard might not become ac- 
 quainted with the circumstance, (for many of the 
 Greeks understand a little Italian,) and a young man, 
 of a finely-proportioned and muscular frame, came 
 forward with a few words in Greek, and took the 
 " chicorridito" under his charge. This was the com- 
 mander of the vessel ; who, by the strength and manly 
 beauty of his form, his regular and expressive features, 
 and, above all, by the native dignity of his carriage 
 and behaviour, would have figured at the head of a 
 fleet. His face possesses many of the peculiarities 
 for which ancient sculptors manifest so decided a 
 a fondness, though yet varied and tamed in such a 
 manner, as to be entirely free from that faultless insi- 
 pidity which is at fi st their most striking expression. 
 The national physiognomy may be traced through the 
 whole crew, and the effect of it is much heightened 
 by their black mustachios, and their hair which hangs 
 in curls almost to the shoulders, after the ancient 
 
gg NISITA.— IN QUARANTINE. 
 
 fashion preserved in the Apollo Belvidere and many 
 other statues. 
 
 These men are all active seamen, decidedly more so 
 than any others we have ever seen; though they 
 make, to our eyes, an awkward figure aloft, and look, 
 vi^hen they are handing the sails, not unlike a coun- 
 cil of old women. The Greek merchant vessels are 
 considered the finest models in the whole world : but 
 the men are deficient in that skilful and neat perform- 
 ance of their duty, which our sailors regard with so 
 much delight, as the perfection of their art. Several 
 of the vessels near us are well armed, and they all 
 carry such large crews, as to ensure their safety 
 against the attacks of both cruisers and storms. 
 
 NisiTA. — January 1. Yesterday mornings (it being 
 both Sunday and the last day of the year,) several 
 boats came to visit the vessels, and to supply such 
 persons as were inclined to buy, with religious pic- 
 tures, crucifixes, &c. Each of them contained a priest 
 or two, who succeeded in bartering a few of their 
 wares, and obtained in return money for themselves, 
 and wine for their rowers. The Greeks were their 
 principal customers, for their own church resembles 
 that of Rome in some particulars; and the noble 
 young captain in the adjoining vessel kissed, with 
 great solemnity, the emblems he thus obtained. 
 
 The day was bright and warm, and in the afternoon 
 we went to the Lazaretto. Every thing was still, ex- 
 cept the dashing of the waves against the base of the 
 rock, forty feet below. Towards the south-east, the eye 
 ranged, without interruption, over a part of the bay of 
 Naples, bounded at the distance of near twenty miles 
 by a ridge of blue mountains, ending at Cape Campa- 
 nella ; beyond which was the bold form of Capri, and 
 the sea beyond, soon intercepted by the little neigh- 
 
NAPLES. (39 
 
 bouring island of Nisita, sloping towards us, and 
 covered with vineyards and olive groves. Several 
 vessels were sailing for the harbour of Naples ; but 
 not one of them turned her course towards the bay 
 of Pozzuoli and her numerous ports, once so important 
 in commerce and in war. From the northern preci- 
 pice of Nisita, under whose shelter the quarantined 
 vessels lay at their moorings, this bay opened to view, 
 with its opposite shore, four or 6ve miles off Saving 
 tw^o or three villages, the hills were varied only by a 
 few shapeless heaps, the ruins of edifices, which, 
 under the empire of Rome, gave this scene a de- 
 gree of magnificence, of which Naples, with all its 
 splendour, can afford us but a faint idea. To realize 
 with what throngs this coast was once populated, and 
 then to turn and look upon it as it now is, strikes the 
 mind like the sudden shifting of scenes in a drama. 
 The soil is neglected and wild, the navies have disap- 
 peared from their anchorage, the sounds of life from 
 an overflowing population, have given place to a 
 solemn silence, and the deserted bay of Pozzuoli 
 spreads out before us : a bare sheet of water, on 
 which nothing is seen but the crazy boat of some 
 wretched fisherman. It is not the silence of well- 
 earned repose, and of calm meditation, such as over- 
 spreads our country on this Sabbath: but it is the 
 stillness of desertion and ruin. 
 
 Harbour of Naples. — January 15. After a fortnight 
 more spent in the monotony of quarantine, we this 
 morning received permission to unmoor ; and the 
 sailors immediately began this work, with a loud " yo- 
 heave O !" which, in the clear morning, rang among 
 the rocks like the notes of a bugle. So light was the 
 wind that the sun set before we reached Naples, and 
 the bright red in the west threw a briUiant hue upon 
 the waves, where it mingled with a rich blue borrowed 
 
70 NAPLES. 
 
 from the sky, like the play of colours on a dove's 
 neck. When the twilight had succeeded, this rich 
 tint still remained, though much faded, and partially 
 broken by several English and French frigates lying 
 at anchor in the bay. In the east, the moon was be- 
 ginning to shine over the mountains ; and the water, 
 when disturbed by the passing of a boat, sparkled 
 like silver dust ; Vesuvius, rising dark and almost to the 
 moon, was spotted by different masses of the flowing 
 lava, like red-hot iron; and threw a long train of light 
 upon the bay, where it was darkened by the shade. 
 
 As the carnival is to begin to-morrow, we were led 
 to expect unusual signs of festivity; and, as we ap- 
 proached the city, a thousand lights were moving along 
 the shore. Candles shine from the windows, at different 
 heights, and torches from the fishing-boats in the har- 
 bour. Many of them are constantly moving, frequently 
 hidden by passing crowds, and each throws a bright ray 
 upon the water, so that the scene is not unlike that 
 presented by one of our meadows, when illuminated 
 by a host of fire-flies on a still summer evening. A 
 confused but musical sound is heard from the city. It 
 is the bustle of the crowd of Naples on a holy-day 
 evening, mixed with the chiming of bells, the explo- 
 sion of fire-works, which resembles the roll of a drum, 
 the loudest notes of many a distant serenade, and the 
 roar of the surf dashing against the shore. 
 
 January 18. The celebrated scenery of thi- vicinity 
 is of a peculiar description. The bay of Naples is 
 well nigh thirty miles in diameter ; and this immense 
 basin, or goblet, as the Neapolitans are fond of deno- 
 minating it, is surrounded by mountains on a corres- 
 ponding scale of magnificence. As if to add a mas- 
 ter-stroke to the scene, a volcano is introduced, with 
 all that is imposing in its size and figure, and all the 
 sublimity of a depository of power so enormous, 
 
m 
 
 1"^ 
 
NAPLES. 71 
 
 SO mysterious, whose terrible effects are seen in 
 devastated fields and ruined cities. It rises near the 
 shore, from an extensive and fertile plain, at first with 
 a slope so smooth and gradual as to be hardly per- 
 ceptible, then steeper and steeper, till its upper part 
 is a perfect cone, like the heap of sand in the bottom of 
 an hour-glass, and formed in the same manner, by ma- 
 terials supplied from the top. In addition to the 
 various appearances which, in common with other 
 mountains, Vesuvius assumes from the changes of sea- 
 son and weather, the smoke, which is continually 
 ascending from the crater, gives an important variety 
 to it at every change of wind, light and shade. When 
 it is perfectly calm, the smoke rises to an immense 
 height, like a noble column supporting the sky : at 
 other times, it flies to such a distance that it forms all 
 the clouds that are to be seen, and heightens the 
 scene at sun-set, by a reddish dusky hue, peculiar to 
 itself. This morning the sun rose a little southward 
 of the mountain, among piles of broken clouds, which 
 dazzled the eyes with red, yellow, and orange-coloured 
 light. The wind was strong from the north-east, and, 
 blowing the smoke from the crater, rolled it slowly 
 down the side of the mountain, in a dense, unbroken 
 volume. At two-thirds the distance to the plain it 
 lifted itself up, and forming a fine curve, rose into the 
 air much higher than the crater, growing broader and 
 brighter, till it assumed the colours of the clouds and 
 mingled in their company. For half an hour, the 
 mountain was entirely in the shade : but when the 
 light of the sun at length shone over the summit, it 
 fell upon the descending volume of smoke, and tinged 
 the edges of its ten thousand little curls. A view 
 hke this is worthy of being longer dwelt upon, if 
 it could be adequately described : — the mountain 
 -oemed pouring out a flood of coined silver. 
 
72 NAPLES. 
 
 Naples. — January 20. Our quarantine having ex- 
 pired, we stepped on shore this morning, among a 
 crowd of pale and ragged men, who extended their 
 hands, not to welcome us into their country, but to 
 beg for alms. " Take care of your pockets, gentle- 
 men," cried our friends — " they are great thieves." 
 " Keep your mouths shut," said Mattia, (or something 
 like it,) " they will steal your teeth." The buildings 
 are very high, the streets narrow, and crowded with 
 people bustling about among a thousand shops, whose 
 windows are stocked with articles of all sorts exposed 
 for sale. The Corso, which is one of the finest 
 streets, appeared to us inconvenient, both by its nar- 
 rowness and its want of side-walks : for foot-passen- 
 gers are obliged to mingle among horses and coaches, 
 to the no small risk of life and limb, in a most motley 
 crowd ; and we were often forced from the wall by a 
 row of orange-women, or other little merchants, who 
 are permitted to occupy some parts of the narrow pave- 
 ment. This new scene was quite bewildering. Citi- 
 zens were passing by at various paces, all wearing 
 black mustachios, which are here considered neces- 
 sary for soldiers ; and, since the proclamation of the 
 Constitution, every man holds himself ready for its 
 defence. The state of things is extremely doubtful. 
 An Austrian invasion is regarded as almost inevitable, 
 sooner or later, and the presence of so many French 
 and English ships of the line and frigates, twelve or 
 fifteen in all, which have been collecting in the bay for 
 some time without any avowed object, has caused sus- 
 picion and uneasiness. Many persons, both foreigners 
 and natives, are removing with their property to other 
 countries; and the little money-changers, who sit at 
 the corners to give copper for silver and gold, without 
 discount, prove practically the increased value of the 
 precious metals. 
 
NAPLES. 73 
 
 ft was amusing to observe the street-scribes, whom 
 we frequently passed, seated with small tables before 
 them, and all the materials for writing. This is a 
 description of persons, I believe, found no where else, 
 though they certainly seem to be considered here of 
 the utmost importance, by those who need their ser- 
 vices. These are chiefly soldiers, who wish to com- 
 municate with their friends at home, and some of them 
 assume the penitent air of a wild son, or the glistening 
 glance of a faithful absent lover, while they stand at the 
 ear of the scribe, and dictate their epistles. A Ho- 
 garth would love to perpetuate on his canvass the 
 groups they often formed, and catch the half comic 
 expressions of abstraction and diligence in their re- 
 spective faces, while the sigh is translated into written 
 language, the letter sealed and the money paid. 
 
 There is something peculiar in the physiognomy of 
 the Neapolitans — round faces, black eyes, dark com- 
 plexions, and a national resemblance remarkable only 
 by a stranger, but as palpable to him as the strong 
 family likeness in brothers and sisters. 
 
 The consul and the members of an American mer- 
 cantile house, to whom we brought letters, have 
 received us with a cordiality which testifies the 
 attachment they retain to their country, after a long 
 residence in a land of strangers ; and to them, as 
 well as to the Americans in Gibraltar, we are already 
 indebted for many offices of kindness. 
 
 In the evening we looked down, from an upper 
 window, upon the funeral of one of the king's old 
 generals, which passed along the street, from a church 
 in which it had lain some hours, to the " Holy Field," 
 without the city, where many of the dead are now 
 interred. A long procession of troops proceeded 
 in silence, while the lamps shone on their afms and 
 
 10 
 
74 NAPLES. 
 
 steel helmets, yet left them in such ohsnnrity, that the 
 antiquated and foreign aspect of the houses, with the 
 motley crowd of gazers at window and balcony, some- 
 times brought to minda crusade army, sometimes a 
 Roman legion. Forty friars followed, muffled in white 
 frocks, and bearing lighted candles, their faces con- 
 cealed by linen caps, with holes for the eyes, and 
 shaded with broad black hats. All at once the trum- 
 pets struck up a dead march; and long after the 
 procession had passed by, w^e heard vollies of musketry 
 fired over the grave. 
 
 A gentleman who had politely offered to conduct us 
 to the landing-place, for fear of some accident in the 
 darkness of the evening, stept into the boat to accom- 
 pany us to the vessel, as we have had no opportunity 
 to seek for a hotel. With much enthusiasm he refer- 
 red to the liberal institutions of America; but his 
 praises of our country would have flattered us still 
 more, if he had shown any distinct idea of the sub- 
 ject. He is quite young however, and many of his 
 countrymen may be much better informed ; though, to 
 confess the truth, after this introduction to Naples, 
 with its dizzying bustle, and stunning sounds, I believe 
 we are all wiUing to allow, that it is difficult to form 
 an intimate acquaintance with any people, except by 
 personal contact and observation. Our friend how- 
 ever showed that warmth of manner, while speaking 
 of the situation of affairs, and declared with so much 
 enthusiasm, his resolution and that of his countrymen 
 to be free or die, that I am sure we shall think of him, 
 wherever we are, when w^e hear of the termination of 
 their contest. On taking leave to return on shores 
 we were obliged to yield to the fashion of the coun- 
 try ; for, in spite of his long mustachios, he insisted on 
 giving each of us a memorable salute on the lips. A 
 
NAPLES.— VESUVIUS. 75 
 
 momentary silence ensued among us, which was caused 
 by our making involuntarily a mental inquiry, whe- 
 ther similar things were likely often to occur ; though 
 it is certain, that in the case of so warm a heart, the 
 true value of a kiss should not be regarded as dimin- 
 ished by a long beard. But after all, how difficult it is 
 for a traveller to foresee "• through what new scenes 
 and changes" he must pass ! 
 
 Naples. — Vesuvius. — January 20. We had fixed 
 on to-day for making an excursion to Vesuvius ; 
 and according to a previous arrangement, Mattia, 
 that compound of eccentricity and good nature, was 
 put at the head of the expedition. At sun-rise a 
 carozza, (a sort of four-wheeled carriage with a bel- 
 lows top,) stood ready for us ; and notwithstanding its 
 size, was made to contain our whole party, including 
 the officers of the vessel. Little Sam, the cabin-boy, 
 rode behind, his presence being insisted upon by the 
 old man, who had given him his word that he would 
 carry him to Vesuvius, for he takes equal delight in the 
 happiness of old and young. It was a clear, delight- 
 ful morning ; and as we rolled swiftly along the curved 
 shore, the little fountains seemed to play with un- 
 wonted life and freshness. When we had emerged 
 from the shade of the long line of houses, which borders 
 the margin of the water for a mile or more, the view 
 opened upon the great plain on the left ; the bay lay 
 spread out beautifully on the right, with its moun- 
 tainous shores and distant islands ; and Vesuvius stood 
 majestically in front, with all the smoke of its crater 
 rising to an immense height, through the still air. 
 Fishermen were collected, along the shore preparing 
 their nets, or pushing off their boats, with that air of 
 languor in their motions and postures, which in pic- 
 tures seems so much like the creation of the artist. 
 
7(3 NAPLES—VESUVIUS. 
 
 The delightful plain on our left stretched off' to the 
 Appennines, about fifteen miles ; and, though now so 
 much changed from its ancient fertility as to be called 
 the " Fields of Labour," instead of the "Happy Coun- 
 try," the tract around us seemed the richest and best 
 cultivated ground in the world. Here are numerous 
 gardens, which supply Naples with vegetables of 
 various sorts, all divided by ditches, through which 
 water is distributed from reservoirs, by means of 
 bucket-wheels, like those used in ancient times on the 
 banks of the Nile. The beds were covered with 
 crops of a rich green, heightened by the dew, and 
 by the horizontal light of morning ; and the plastered 
 and thatched cottages here and there were more pic- 
 turesque than comfortable. Many peasants were on 
 the road, with loads of vegetables on mules and don- 
 kies, long pipes of wine in carts drawn by oxen, of a 
 most uncommon size, and a light grey colour, some*- 
 times working with a puny donkey, not much larger 
 than a dog, harnessed with old ropes, and sticking to 
 his side like a collateral circumstance. On the whole, 
 the scene was of the fairest and brightest, notwith- 
 standing the figure it makes when thus led out to view 
 in the fetters of written prose; and it would have done 
 nothing more than justice to all our feelings, had we 
 joined our voices with little Sam, who declared it to be 
 his full belief, that he should never see such a day 
 again. 
 
 The immense range called the King's Granaries, is 
 about half a mile in length ; but the white villages 
 which border the bay at the foot of Vesuvius, proved 
 to be clusters of miserable old houses, instead of the 
 neat and elegant structures which they had promised 
 to furnish when at a distance ; and the inhabitants, 
 like their dwellings, excited only ideas of the most 
 antique and slovenlv fashions. 
 
NAPLES— VESUVIUS. 77 
 
 Having passed three or four distinct towns, we 
 arrived at Portici, where we were instantly surround- 
 ed by a set of ragged fellows, leading mules and don- 
 kies enough to carry forty men. Each tried to attract 
 our notice by calling louder than his neighbours, and 
 forced his sorry animals as near to us as possible, by 
 dint of the most outrageous cudgelling. It would 
 have been almost impossible to proceed — luckily we 
 had reached our stopping place, and Mattia, hastily 
 seizing some provisions he had got at Naples for our 
 dinner, and desiring us to follow, pushed through the 
 crowd and led us down a dark lane, where probably 
 no inhabitant of the New World had ever strayed 
 before. Keeping at his heels, we entered a gate, 
 scaled an outside stone stair-case, and startled a quiet 
 family by our sudden appearance. But all was set 
 right by the fluent tongue of our leader, who explained 
 to a man and his good-humoured old wife, with large 
 eyes and curious broad ear-rings, that he should take 
 the liberty to bring us to the house of an old friend, 
 on our return from the mountain towards evening, to 
 dine on the provisions he had just laid on the shelf, to 
 wit : a leg of veal, two small animals which resembled 
 skinned cats but proved to be lambs, together with 
 various other articles. This proposition was heard 
 with pleasure, though they much marvelled who and 
 whence we could be — such singular faces, such strange 
 clothes — men that could not understand a '' Christian" 
 when he spoke, but jumbled together an incomprehen- 
 sible mass of sounds, and had doubtless come from a 
 very far and a very strange country. Curious eyes 
 were seen peeping at us through half-shut doors and 
 old-fashioned latticed windows, and we were glad to 
 hurry away and bestride the horses, donkies and mules 
 which we found waiting patiently for us at a corner. 
 
7 a NAPLES.-VESUVIUS. 
 
 Our saddles were so old, and the animals had been so 
 cruelly disfigured by the galling of various harnesses 
 before, that it was difficult to tell which was saddle, 
 and which was skin. We mounted, however; and 
 long ears and rope-haUers were the order of the day. 
 
 Our cavalcade indeed was a ludicrous one, and cor- 
 responded well with the anticipated description we 
 had heard of it, off the coast of Sardinia. For what 
 with the wretched appointment of our animals, their 
 proverbial stubbornness, increased rather than soft- 
 ened by the hardness of their lot, together with the 
 awkwardness we felt on shore, excited the mirth of 
 persons both up street and down ; and windows were 
 thrown open and doors crowded on all hands, to wit- 
 ness our setting out. Great confusion immediately 
 ensued — some of us were borne along sideways to- 
 wards a stable or an inn door, by the inveterate 
 habits of our animals, and others found to their surprise, 
 that knotted ropes and broomsticks, possess little or 
 no virtue in Italy: some clattered awhile along the pave- 
 ment, like a cat shod with walnut-shells, and then, by 
 a sudden stop, were near being thrown to the ground. 
 
 By dark and narrow lanes, we began a gradual 
 ascent. Vineyards succeeded, which at this season 
 are quite leafless ; and for about two miles the ride 
 was dreary, and the few persons we met wore igno- 
 rance and poverty written in their countenances. 
 The stones of which the walls were built, were only 
 varieties of volcanic matter; and it was evident that 
 every particle of the soil had originally proceeded 
 from the crater. On inquiring of Mattia for his gar- 
 den, he said it was on the opposite side of the moun- 
 tain, and inaccessible on account of the lava. 
 
 At length, we reached the limit of cultivation, and 
 all the obstructions of vineyards and houses being 
 
NAPLES.— VESUVIUS. 79 
 
 removed, the bay and its coasts were seen below. In 
 front was a tract of level ground, about a mile across, 
 rising very gradually to the foot of the conical mount, 
 properly called Vesuvius, and presenting a surface 
 made entirely of black stones, thrown together with 
 the utmost irregularity, like the broken ice floating 
 down one of our rivers in the spring. This is the 
 path of that stream of lava which burst out at the side 
 of the mountain in 1794, and swept away the village 
 of Torre del Greco, near the shore. It was easy, 
 with the description given by the guide, (a man in tat- 
 tered clothes and a sugar-loaf hat,) to understand the 
 state of things during an eruption, and the degrees of 
 risk to which different parts of the neighbourhood are 
 exposed. The failing of the springs, the subterranean 
 sounds, and the earthquakes, which precede every 
 great eruption, give the inhabitants sufficient warning; 
 and flames, smoke and ashes burst out at the crater, 
 before any great quantity of lava makes its appear- 
 ance. Sometimes indeed it overflows, and rushes down 
 the side of the cone before us with great rapidity, for 
 it is very steep and smooth in every part. But a 
 chasm is usually opened at the foot of this cone, 
 whence a stream flows out till the internal commotion 
 is relieved : and this is sometimes great, as we might 
 well conclude from the sight now before us. This 
 plain, perhaps not more than a mile broad, yet extend- 
 ing to the right, and then following the natural declivity 
 of the ground for about three miles down to the sea, 
 presented an uniform surface of broken, black stones, 
 where was not to be discovered any other object 
 whatever, nor a single spot of any other colour. 
 
 As we left the sand and short turf, and entered upon 
 this dreary tract, the lava grated under the feet of the 
 mules, though it is of such hardness and durability 
 
y 
 
 8Q NAPLES.— VESUVIUS. 
 
 that the path, which has not been trodden for many 
 years, is now scarcely perceptible. It led us however 
 to the left, across one corner of the current, and to 
 a steep ridge about three hundred feet high, which 
 runs from the base of the cone towards the bay, and 
 seems the only spot entirely out of danger. The 
 sides of the ridge are partly covered with scattering 
 trees, and in many places present only the naked faces 
 of stratified volcanic rocks of a warm yellow hue. A 
 sudden turn showed us a steep path, winding with 
 toil through a natural rift, where the scene instantly 
 became circumscribed, but wild and striking in a high 
 degree — a mere foot-path between natural walls often 
 surprisingly smooth, and sometimes irregular with 
 overhanging cliffs, and bunches of shrubs. Our caval- 
 cade was in such excellent keeping with this wild 
 place, that it was a most fortunate circumstance for 
 us there was no artist on the spot to carry us off in 
 his port-folio, like pressed leaves in a hortus siccus. 
 
 Having passed along the ridge to near the middle of 
 it, we mounted a bank, so steep that our nautical com- 
 panions thought of nothing but " wind and tide ahead," 
 and found ourselves at the Hermitage. It fronts the 
 west, where is a large area lined with old trees, and 
 a garden declining in front; and the view is delightful 
 over Naples, and the bay. Some of the ships below 
 were firing salutes ; but distance had so much dimi- 
 nished human concerns, that although we heard the 
 cause, my memory refused to retain it. The building 
 is large for two men, certainly for two hermits. It con- 
 tains stables for a number of horses, and lodgings for 
 their riders, beside the small apartments occupied by 
 the brethren, the furniture of which is so antiquated, 
 and the stone walls and floors so worn aw^ay, that the 
 aspect of the whole might be compared with that of a 
 
7\ 
 
 
 \ ^ ' ^^. 
 
 ^4U 
 
 A \ V 
 
NAPLES.— VESUVIUS. 3 1 
 
 countenance embrowned and wrinkled by extreme old 
 age. Near at hand is a spot occupied by a number of 
 ^one posts, called the Stations of the Cross, intended 
 to represent the several circumstances which, accord- 
 ing to the traditions of the Romish church, occurred 
 on the way from the judgment seat to Calvary. Here 
 the religious sometimes perform a solemn circuit, 
 kneeling and praying before each, according to pre- 
 scribed rules, miserable pictures being painted there 
 to describe the various scenes. 
 
 This rocky ridge on which we were now travelling, 
 was very narrow ; and a little beyond there was barely 
 room for a path. On the right, lay the dismal plain we 
 had lately left, three or four hundred feet below, while 
 before us rose Vesuvius, in an immense cone, surround- 
 ed and capped with clouds of smoke. On the left was a 
 deep ravine, the opposite side of which rises to Monte 
 Somma, a broken summit of bare, grey rocks, the 
 highest as well as the most ancient peak of the moun- 
 tain. Down this narrow valley ran the current of 
 lava which burst out I think during the eruption of 
 1772 ; and it now lies at the bottom — a broken bed of 
 black and useless rocks. It had to pass a precipice 
 seventy feet high, where, during the night, it presented 
 the splendid spectacle of a cascade of fire ; and one 
 may form some idea of its appearance, as well as of 
 the manner in which a current of lava usually flows, 
 by observing the broken masses lying confusedly 
 below, and others still hanging from above. The 
 upper surface soon becomes partly cooled and hard ; 
 and, by the motion of the half liquid mass beneath, soon 
 cracks, and is thrown up in flat pieces, exactly, as 1 
 have before remarked, like the ice in a river, torn 
 away by the stream. Thus the ridge on which we 
 were standing, has been almost insulated by torrents 
 
 11 
 
32 NAPLES.— VESUVIUS. 
 
 of a terrible description; and the hermits have been 
 sometimes seriously alarmed, though without much 
 reason, as they are at a great height above them. * 
 
 We crossed the old lava just above the precipice; 
 and here were obliged to dismount and go on foot, 
 because of the present eruption, which a month ago 
 sent a stream in this direction, and to this spot. It 
 was still warm, and even hot under our feet, and in 
 many places hot air rose from the crevices, so that it 
 was probably still soft beneath. Passing this, we 
 arrived in a few minutes at Monte Somma, which is 
 formed of a light grey volcanic rock, speckled with 
 dark, crystalline grains- Notwithstanding its appa- 
 rent durability, it gradually yields to the elements : for 
 several veins, or dykes, w hich cross it nearly perpen- 
 dicularly, are left projecting, from one to three feet^ 
 like low stone walls. 
 
 The guide now led us towards the foot of Vesuvius 
 properly so called, which rises, like an immense ant 
 heap, about twelve hundred feet high; and all the way 
 we trod on newly-formed lava. Steams were issuing 
 out on all sides ; but at the foot ♦of Vesuvius, the 
 place where the lava first appears, smoke was rising 
 in clouds, which sometimes shaded the sun. There 
 we scrambled up a heap of loose rocks, along the top 
 of which was slowly flowing a stream of half-fluid 
 matter, in a ditch three or four feet wide, self-formed 
 but perfectly straight and regular. It was encrusted with 
 a porous, black surface : but whenever a cloud passed 
 over, or rather when the smoke of Vesuvius rolled for 
 an instant between us and the sun, it brightened like 
 red-hot iron, or a rattle-snake suddenly enraged, while 
 a strange crackling sound passed over it that made us 
 start. Quantities of the lava were easily taken out 
 with a stick, but the heat was so great as to make the 
 operation somewhat inconvenient. It was so hot as to 
 
NAPLES.-VESUVIUS. 33 
 
 make the wood blaze ; but soon grew hard, and in 
 a few minutes cold enough to handle. While thus era- 
 ployed, we heard repeated sounds like distant thunder, 
 which we supposed to be the guns discharged from the 
 ships in the bay, though our guide declared they came 
 from the mountain. 
 
 About thirty yards above this place, was a heap of 
 rocks fifty feet high, which marked the spot where the 
 lava burst from the ground. Smoke was passing off 
 by a hole in the top, while the current flowed from its 
 base. Within a short distance, there were several 
 other mounds of this description, each of which 
 was performing on a small scale the work of a vol- 
 cano, and was in fact a mimic Vesuvius. By an accu- 
 mulation of stones, the passage gradually becomes 
 clogged, and at length the lava finds a new vent, where 
 it forms a new channel and a new cone. 
 
 Through a hole, we saw the lava just as it issued 
 from the mountain — there it was, fifteen feet below us, 
 in a cauldron it had formed, eddying and almost boil- 
 ing, like melted iron, shining in its own infernal light, 
 and possessing an aspect unaccountably dreadful, as 
 if it had brought along some of the horrors of the bot- 
 tomless pit. Here, we were told, a Frenchman lost 
 his life few days before. Whether his death was 
 accidental or intended, we could not satisfy ourselves. 
 Our guide, the brother of him who had accompanied 
 the Frenchman, declared he threw himself in : but 
 nobody, 1 think, could look down this chasm and 
 believe it. That he perished here is certain however; 
 and the Neapolitan saw his remains re-appear below, 
 and float down the current ! 
 
 But the most arduous part of our enterprise still lay 
 before us. The quantity of lava lately thrown out 
 has raised the surface considerably, and left a narrow 
 
84 NAPLES.— VESUVIUS. 
 
 space between it and Vesuvius, in crossing which we 
 sunk to our ankles at every step, in black ashes. We 
 told the guide to lead the way up : but he pretended 
 surprise at finding we thought of going any further, 
 declared that a stream of lava was running down from 
 above, which had cut off the usual path, and finally 
 told us the ascent was impossible, and he was resolved 
 not to proceed. This was probably only a pretended 
 objection. We set out, therefore, leaving half our 
 party behind, and climbed up the side of the moun- 
 tain, which was made of sand and ashes, smooth, and 
 compacted very hard ; while at the distance of every 
 three or four feet, were the projecting corners of 
 stones, which have been thrown from the crater. The 
 angle of ascent we judged to be nearly forty-five 
 degrees, so that the labour was great. Sometimes we 
 slid back on the hard surface, sometimes lost one step 
 out of two among soft ashes, catching at the sharp 
 stones, for a hold, and thus labouring on till we could 
 hardly creep, and then sat or lay down to recover 
 breath. Above, the smoke appeared more and more 
 distinctly, rising up in thick curls : but when we had 
 reached the top, the crater was still at a great dis- 
 tance. An irregular plain of five or six acres lay be- 
 fore us, bounded by hills on three sides; and just 
 opposite was a conical mound, about an hundred and 
 fifty feet high, with the great column of smoke issuing 
 from it. The unobstructed view we had just had under 
 our eyes, of the bay and its vicinity, now suddenly 
 gave place to a most revolting landscape : little hills 
 and vallies of black, volcanic matter, with rocks so 
 arranged as to form a sort of scenery, but of such a 
 gloomy character as cannot well be imagined. 
 
 Our guide, who had unwillingly followed us to this 
 place, now declared it would be utterly impossible to 
 
NAPLES.— VESUVIUS. ({5 
 
 proceed any further : and we were inclined to believe 
 him. Clouds of smoke were rising from the broken 
 rocks in every direction, and often obscured the sight ; 
 the flat ground at the foot of the little hills on the left, 
 was the place occupied, only last year, by a smoking 
 mount, which had suddenly fallen in, and given place 
 to that now before us. Even where we stood the lava 
 was hot to our feet; and scalding streams burst out 
 from the crevices, with a loud hiss, like the leaks of 
 a steam-engine. After some persuasion however, and 
 the show of more resolution than we actually pos- 
 sessed, the guide consented to proceed, and led the 
 way up this " valley of the shadow of death ;" which, 
 with the surrounding hillocks, was reeking like a 
 smothered furnace, through a surface as black as the 
 coals. 
 
 Mounting the ridge on the left, and walking in the 
 soft ashes of which it is composed, we reached the 
 conical hill, or " mouth," as the guide called it, and 
 here saw the first mark of former footsteps, in the deep 
 volcanic sand and ashes. The wind was so light, that 
 it was safe to approach to the very edge of the abyss, 
 and to stand so near the precipice as almost to reach 
 the column of white smoke with our hands : but un- 
 fortunately, it was so dense that we could scarcely see 
 three feet beyond. 
 
 This spot is more than six thousand feet above the 
 Bay of Naples, which, with its irregular shores, here 
 crowded with inhabitants, and there encumbered with 
 ruined cities ; the fertile campagna scattered with 
 white cottages; and the Appenines, whose most. dis- 
 tant peaks were in Calabria and Apulia, presented at 
 once a rich banquet to the eye and to the mind. By 
 so gentle a swell does the mountain rise from the 
 plain, that it is considered to be thirty miles in circuit 
 
^g /NAPLES— VESUVIUS. 
 
 at the base ; and from this spot we could see the 
 seven^l courses which the lava has taken at different 
 eruptions. Portici on the west side, and on the mar- 
 gin of the water, stands over Herculaneum, and on a 
 spot which probably has been overflowed by repeated 
 eruptions. The guide called our attention to a cluster 
 of buildings on the south-eastern side, at the distance 
 of four or five miles ; and we were not a little grati- 
 fied to learn that they belonged to Pompeii. For a 
 great distance around them, we saw but a few solitary 
 cottages; and this old city had been dug out among 
 uniform acres of cultivated fields. 
 
 Thus we were furnished with numerous objects 
 of various descriptions, but all highly interesting. 
 The Neapolitans compare this landscape to Paradise, 
 seen from the infernal regions : but every one must 
 feel his mind ennobled by such a view of the present 
 and the past — the soul spurns at the magnificence of 
 kings, for there are the wrecks of Roman grandeur; 
 and exults at the reflection, that when Naples shall 
 have sunk into ruins like Baiae, the spirit shall be 
 but in its youth, and from some nobler eminence than 
 this, may take a more sublime survey of an ampler 
 past, and a no less boundless future. 
 
 But we stand on dangerous ground. The hill under 
 our feet has been formed within a twelvemonth, and 
 like a thousand similar ones, which in turn, have risen 
 and disappeared, is destined to a speedy and a tremen- 
 dous destruction. Probably Vesuvius once rose to a 
 perfect cone, and smoked three or four hundred feet 
 above us : nay, it is supposed that Monte Somma 
 itself, which shows the bend of a concentric circle 
 immeasurably greater, raised the summit far higher, 
 before the destruction of Herculaneum. We turned 
 to descend, when an explosion was heard under our 
 
^ NAPLES— VESUVIUS. 37 
 
 feet, from that lake of fire far below, to which the lava 
 we had seen was but a rill; and the sounds re-echoed as 
 if the whole mountain had been hollow. Our descent 
 commenced very speedily, and it was hardly neces- 
 sary to step at all — our feet ploughing a trench in the 
 loose ashes, as we slid down without exertion, till 
 we reached the dismal valley, having had repeatedly 
 to empty our shoes of the ashes, which in some places 
 were hot enough to scorch our feet, if they sunk 
 deeper than usual. The surface around us was here 
 and there covered with sulphur, and various salts, 
 white, red, and yellow, which sometimes spread over 
 a quarter of an acre like a coat of snow. 
 
 When we arrived at the brow of the great cone, we 
 chose a narrow stripe of soft ashes, on the edge of a 
 stream of lava which had flowed down a few weeks be- 
 fore, and thus descended with ease and great rapidity. 
 In a few minutes we reached the spot where we had 
 dismounted, but could not at first perceive either 
 of our animals, because they were so nearly the 
 colour of the rocks. At the Hermitage, the re- 
 mainder of our party were regaling themselves, at 
 an old marble table under the trees, served by the 
 master of ceremonies, and we felt happy at being 
 restored again to society. As soon as the old man 
 perceived our approach, he hastened to help us dis- 
 mount, rebuking us gently for undertaking so arduous 
 an enterprise, led off our mules, and then returned to 
 conduct us to a seat in the shade ; and filling our 
 glasses in sight of the whole bay of Naples, drank 
 to our safe return, and to the memory of Nisita. 
 
 A party of peasants were collected at a little 
 distance, with a store of dainties they had brought 
 with them. They were arrayed in their gayest 
 clothes, and most splendid ornaments, and excited 
 
3g NAPLES.— VESUVIUS. 
 
 our wonder with their odd combinations of round, 
 stupid faces, gaudy colours, short persons, long 
 waists, crucifixes, ear-rings, and quaint devices ; 
 which, when Mattia perceived, he insisted on bring- 
 ing us nearer, and introd uced all round. The peasants, 
 in spite of the surprise which this occasioned, 
 received us with that urbanity which seems wrought 
 by nature into the composition of the Italians, and 
 heard with a full relish the sarcastic descriptions 
 he saw fit to subjoin to each of our names. 
 
 "Two brother hermits, saints by trade," made 
 their appearance at the call of Mattia, with their 
 large limbs and full-fed bodies wrapped in brown 
 frocks, their shorn heads covered with hoods or 
 cowls, crucifixes at their breasts, knotted Cords 
 about their waists, and — small kegs of red wine in 
 their hands. But it was our bill that was now de- 
 manded : for we were all mounted, and our purse- 
 bearer had begun to handle his ducats and carlines. 
 He soon saw fit to question the justice of their de- 
 mands, and a dispute ensued which was rather un^ 
 canonical, whether the subject be considered, or the 
 warmth of the holy men. The Italian words " vino," 
 and " argento," [wine, and the root of all evil,] were 
 all that we could well comprehend, till Mattia coolly 
 desired us to proceed without him, while he unbur- 
 thened his soul. This he did in a full and unrestrained 
 torrent of abuse and curses, loaded without remorse 
 on the astonished hermits, calling them mock-saints, 
 rogues, cheats, wine-bibbers ; and then throwing them 
 some money with the utmost disdain, and crying that 
 he hoped to be delivered for ever from such devils 
 in brown jackets, he shrugged his shoulders so as 
 to hide his ears, uttered a groan which was audi- 
 ble at the distance of several rods, fi:ave his mule 
 
NAPLES— VESUVIUS. g^ 
 
 a hollow bang with his club, and came hurrying 
 down hill as if there had been a new eruption of 
 the mountain. 
 
 During the remaining part of the descent, our atten- 
 tion was divided between the prospect below and the 
 perverse tricks of our horses, donkies and mules ; for 
 many of them were outrageously stubborn, and did 
 despite to the nautical science of our friends, and set 
 at naught all the rules of navigation. " It is of no 
 use," complained one, " to crowd sail on this crazy 
 old hulk, it only deadens her head-way and makes her 
 uneasy ;" another proposed " that his ship should be 
 hauled down and condemned ;" a third, who had 
 broken the rope that suspended his left stirrup, "hove 
 to to set up his larboard rigging ;" while another still 
 complained that, though he had been to sea off and 
 on for fifteen years, he had "never been aboard such 
 a craft" in his life. She was so " by the head she 
 would pitch bows under" — She was " an unsafe boat 
 — wouldn't mind her helm when it was hard up." Nay, 
 she had several times " broached-to, and got stern- 
 way on her." 
 
 At length we reached the house where we were to 
 dine ; and having mounted the stair-case, which like 
 the house, and indeed like all Portici, was built of 
 brown lava, we entered the dining-room, and after hav- 
 ing been supplied with wash-bowls filled from pitchers 
 of an antique form, and towels clean, though coarse, 
 we sat down to dine under the approving smiles of 
 half a dozen heathen gods and goddesses, that looked 
 calmly down from the old oil pictures on the walls. 
 Each plate was supplied with a napkin, a small loaf 
 of bread, and a bottle of Vesuvian wine. A soup 
 made of maccaroni was first set before us ; then 
 boiled and roasted meatswere brought on in succes- 
 
 12 
 
90 NAPLES.— HERCULANElfM. 
 
 sion, but in such small quantities, and at such distances 
 that the Yankees would probably have been as well 
 content with a simpler meal and a more liberal sup- 
 ply. It was impossible however to beat out of the 
 Italian fashion, either the cook or the waiters, and we 
 proceeded as we might, while the whole family stood 
 by, heartily amused at our language, and at seeing us 
 use both knife and fork at once. After dinner, some- 
 thing was set before us like a sallad, which our master 
 of ceremonies hailed in high glee, as a delicacy he 
 had long desired : but it was disgustingly sweet, 
 and proved to be nothing but the stalks of fennel ! 
 Oranges, nuts, a better wine and rosoglio having 
 been discussed, and our teeth being almost broken and 
 our mouths sweetened with half a dozen sorts of con- 
 fections, we expressed a wish to Mattia, which we 
 desired him to translate to his friends, the master of 
 the house and one or two others who were beside him 
 at table. It purported that, whereas we had now con- 
 formed with such scrupulosity, to the ancient and 
 respected customs of Italy, we craved permission to 
 drink a glass of wine after the fashion of our own 
 country, and give the health of Mattia and his friends. 
 The Italians, with their characteristic shrewdness and 
 warmth of feeling, instantly comprehended the spirit 
 of the thing, and entered into it heart and soul. 
 They filled their glasses, while their dark eyes bright- 
 ened with pleasure, and drank "I Americani e la loro 
 patria," [to the Americans and their country.] 
 
 Naples. — January 22. Our Neapolitan companion^ 
 who begins to see how little real comfort is to be 
 expected by an old man of sixty, from executing such 
 laborious plans as we have laid, took an early oppor- 
 tunity this morning, to enter his protest against our 
 scheme. Like all his countrymen, rich and poor, his 
 
NAPLES— HERCULANEUM. 9| 
 
 heart is bound up in Naples; and though he feels 
 proud of the scenery, and the remains of antiquity in 
 the neighbourhood, he loves them principally as the 
 scenes of past pleasures. He submitted therefore to 
 our consideration a plan for all future excursions, in 
 which there was more comfort than curiosity, and 
 more wine and rosoglio than ruined cities and melan- 
 choly reflections : but we are in haste to leave Naples 
 before the approach of the Austrian army, which is 
 said to be already on its march, and have reluctantly 
 rejected it. He promises to see us occasionally, 
 though he says nothing further of his Vesuvian gar- 
 den, which has either passed into the hands of others, 
 or was the fair creation of his own fancy, intended 
 only to amuse us with pleasant hopes. 
 
 The weather being fine, and our party reduced to 
 four, we took an early breakfast at a coffee-house, 
 according to the Neapolitan fashion, and set out about 
 sun-rise for Herculaneum and Pompeii, or as they are 
 called by the moderns, Ercolano and Pompeia. Our 
 road, as yesterday, lay along the shore to Resina ; and 
 there a beggar boy led us to a small house where the 
 " custode," or keeper, was at breakfast. He came out 
 in an old military dress, wiping his mouth, and with 
 an obsequious bow conducted us down into a ravine, 
 over which the street was built on an arch thirty or 
 forty feet above; and, unlocking a wooden door, 
 entered the cellar of a house, and consigned us to the 
 charge of a pale, crouching, half clad man, who has 
 learnt by rote a description of the objects under his 
 care, which he delivers to every traveller in a whining 
 tone, to us almost unintelligible and quite ludicrous. 
 
 He took some candles in his hand, one of which he 
 lighted, and preceded us down a dark stair-case, cut 
 in the solid volcanic rock. In a little time the light of 
 
92 NAPLES.-HERCULANEUM. 
 
 the sky broke in through a shaft which was dug in 
 1711, for a well, and by means of which the buried 
 city was discovered. The workmen dug up the pieces 
 of a beautiful marble pavement, but the surrounding 
 rock was so hard that the excavations were not begun 
 till some years after. It is well known that many 
 houses and several temples, forums, a theatre, &c. 
 have been discovered, from which statues, columns, 
 pictures, and papyri, or ancient books, have been re- 
 moved and deposited in places of safety. 
 
 Several Roman historians had mentioned the de- 
 struction of certain cities, which were overwhelmed 
 during a terrible eruption of Vesuvius, and the first 
 on record, in the year 79, under the reign of the 
 emperor Titus : but the situations of them all had 
 been only conjectured before the accidental dis- 
 covery of Herculaneum. Unfortunately, there were 
 very few objects brought to light of sufficient real 
 value to tempt any farther researches through streets 
 and buildings completely filled with solid rock ; and 
 the work has not only been abandoned, but, for fear 
 the pressure above should prove too great for the 
 diminished support, every part, except the theatre, has 
 been filled up. 
 
 The guide continued to descend. — "That step," 
 said he, "is modern: the next is ancient. We are 
 now in the theatre, and descending the flight of steps 
 which leads to the middle of the theatre, ft was ori- 
 ginally cased with marble : but nothing is left except 
 these fragments," he added, lowering his light, and 
 picking up bits for us to put into our pockets. 
 
 On account of the hardness of the surrounding rock, 
 a large part of the building is still imbedded, and only 
 the principal passages are accessible. We saw the 
 curve of the long seats which rise behind each other 
 
NAPLES.-HERCULANEUM. 9^ 
 
 in semicircles, walked through the arched corri- 
 dors beneath them, bending in the same manner. A 
 narrow path has been hewn out before the marble 
 seats of the musicians, who occupied the front of the 
 stage : we ascended to the elevated seats of the con- 
 suls, from which two equestrian statues have been re- 
 moved ; and examined with surprise the three doors of 
 this noble structure, which are of most beautiful archi- 
 tecture, and cased with coloured marble, still smooth 
 to the touch, and shining to the light of our candles, 
 which were raised on poles to show the height of the 
 arches. An ancient bronze mask was found in one 
 place, and we saw in the solid rock the impression it 
 had left. 
 
 We would gladly have remained here for hours, lost 
 in the interesting reflections so natural in such a place, 
 and entirely forgetful of the world above us, (except, 
 indeed, when the sound of a coach on the pavement, 
 overhead, roused us for a moment,) for even the mono- 
 tonous rehearsal of the guide worked like magic, when 
 he told us that through this place the most honourable 
 citizens used to proceed to their seats ; by these steps 
 the rabble used to crowd to their more elevated 
 places, all eager for the dramas acted here so many 
 centuries ago; that this window, which, though now 
 filled with lava, once lighted the arched passage, and 
 looked towards Vesuvius — and from that, the eyes of 
 men had ranged over the harbour of Herculaneum, 
 the bay of Naples, and the surrounding country, 
 covered with population, and magnificently adorned 
 with the structures of ancient times. 
 
 But we had a long and laborious excursion still be- 
 fore us, and dismissing such thoughts with a secret 
 promise that we would indulge ourselves with another 
 visit to this interesting place, we rose again to the un- 
 
94 
 
 NAPLES— POMPEII. 
 
 welcome light of day, and soon changed the sublime 
 silence of Herculaneum for the disgusting noise of 
 cicerone and custode begging for a larger gratuity. 
 As we remounted our carozza, we were besieged by 
 a whole mob of ragged men and boys, some of whom 
 begged most clamorously, and others urged us to hire 
 the ragged animals they had brought along with them. 
 At Portici we were so beset, that the coachman found 
 much difficulty in proceeding ; and hearing a shouting 
 behind, we saw many more hastening on, with long 
 poles, a score or two of animals, which seemed to be 
 emblems of the multiplied distresses to which their 
 kind is liable. The coachman plied his whip, and 
 we had for a short time to contest the honours of a 
 race against the most ignoble competitors. 
 
 A short ride brought us to Torre del Greco, a vil- 
 lage which has been swept away nine times by erup- 
 tions of the mountain, and exposed by the nature of 
 the ground to every succeeding one. Soon after we 
 entered the town, the tall white houses on both sides, 
 built of volcanic stone, and compacted like the closest 
 city, suddenly gave place to a waste, a mile in diame- 
 ter, where no object was to be discerned above 
 the uniform surface of black lava. It reached on 
 the left, far up the mountains, and on the right, to 
 the neighbouring shore of the bay, where it disap- 
 peared under water. The houses which stood on the 
 verge of the current were burnt within, and had 
 nothing left but walls, while those next them, like 
 almost the whole village, had been borne away by the 
 irresistible mass of melted lava, and left not a single 
 remnant in sight. The road now runs across this solid 
 pavement, several feet above the former one ; and as 
 we proceeded we could not discover a vestige of a 
 building — every thing was the same black and porous: 
 
NAPLES.— POMPEII. 95 
 
 stone we saw yesterday. Probably the very materials 
 of which the houses were constructed were melted, 
 and swelled the torrent : for every rock and every 
 pebble, the sand and the soil, are all vocanic. Nay, 
 the particles which form the vegetable productions, 
 have proceeded from the crater of Vesuvius, and the 
 bodies of men must necessarily be composed of the 
 same materials; to which certain philosophers have 
 very sagely referred the fire of their tempers, and the 
 smoke of their threats and promises. Men of common 
 sense have often wondered at the unaccountable follj 
 of those who inhabit places peculiarly exposed to 
 danger, and the people of this very village have long 
 been notable for the blindest confidence in volcanos, 
 hurricanes, and earthquakes, after they have repeat- 
 edly ruined their ancestors and themselves. Yet it 
 seems that the total destruction of nine villages is no 
 reason why nine more may not be destroyed; and 
 many proprietors have gone gravelj to work to ascer- 
 tain their old limits, and enclose, with loose walls, 
 yards and gardens of lava. We had no time to exa- 
 mine the law of the land concerning taxes : but it is 
 probable a clause might be found, suspending for a 
 term the ground rent of a tract buried by an erup- 
 tion, as the lava of 1794 is as barren as ever, after 
 having lain fallow t ear forty years. 
 
 Leaving the neighbourhood of the bay, and turning: 
 off to the left, to keep near the base of Vesuvius, we 
 soon found ourselves restored to the fertihty of the 
 vast plain, which stretches off on three sides to the 
 Appennines. The land is so low as to make it neces- 
 sary that the road should be raised on a causey, and 
 we looked down on a thousand little square fields dug 
 up in ridges for the purpose of draining, and planted 
 with vegetables for the Naples market. The utmost 
 
96 NAPLES.— POMPEII. 
 
 care and skill were shown by the gardeners, in the 
 good order and flourishing condition of every thing : 
 the soil is almost jet black, and the plants were singu- 
 larly placed, so as to grow from one side of the ridge. 
 This beautiful scene extended for a mile or more on 
 both sides, occasionally varied by a vineyard with its 
 tall trees and high festoons, and then gave place to 
 extensive fields of wheat, and pasture land. 
 
 An unfrequented road at length turned off toward 
 the left, and after a short ride, on the level of the 
 plain, we saw a gentle elevation before us about thirty 
 feet high, extending to the right and left, a mile and 
 a half, and covered with tall trees and vines. The 
 path wound to the right, and passed along just at 
 the base, where was a large hillock of earth, evi- 
 dently heaped up by art; and the next instant we 
 caught a glimpse behind of the place whence it had 
 been removed, and the walls of twenty or thirty small 
 brick buildings^ which had been dug out of the hill. 
 " Stop !" we cried, rising up eagerly, " it is Pompeii !" 
 " Gentlemen," said the coachman, in a pacifying tone, 
 and so coolly as almost to make us ashamed, " have a 
 little patience. You may trust me to take you to the 
 proper place to begin your examination of this ancient 
 city : for there is not a public coachman in Naples, 
 who is ignorant of one of all those places, in which 
 the strangers who resort hither every winter take such 
 interest." 
 
 We drove on therefore, a short distance farther, 
 and having passed several great mounds of earth, 
 stopped under a wall of red brick, so fresh and so 
 like a modern one, with white cement which seemed 
 to have been laid scarce ^ve years, that we could 
 hardly believe it ancient. A cicerone offered his ser- 
 vices ; and unlocking a modern door through the wall, 
 
NAPLES.— POMPEII. 97 
 
 while our eyes were aching with curiosity, stepped 
 into a small room, through which he led us into a large, 
 open, oblong piece of ground, surrounded on all sides 
 with rows of low buildings opening with broad doors, 
 and in front of which was an interrupted line of 
 broken columns. This was a forum — a public square, 
 but whether intended for assemblies of the people, or 
 a market, is uncertain, because the Romans made them 
 all on the same plan ; though the small buildings 
 around it, which look like shops, countenance the latter 
 supposition. Pompeii, as well as Herculaneum, was 
 deeply buried by the showers of sand and ashes which 
 descended from the clouds during the eruption of the 
 mountain : but Herculaneum was afterward flooded 
 with a river of hot water, which converted the whole 
 mass into a solid rock of cement; and it is conjectured 
 that a quantity of lava subsequently flowed over it, by 
 the heat of which those ancient books, or papyri, 
 lately discovered, were converted into charcoal, and 
 rendered imperishable. Pompeii, on the contrary, 
 was found imbedded in ashes so loose as to be easily 
 removed with a spade, and about one third of the low 
 hill which contains it has been dug away, and a number 
 of streets and some hundreds of buildings are opened 
 again to the sun. 
 
 It was easy to account for the disappearance of the 
 roofs, which had been crushed in by the superincum- 
 bent weight: "but how," we inquired, "have these 
 columns been all removed or broken ?" for many frag- 
 mients of columns and friezes lay in heaps in the cor- 
 ners. " They were thrown down," replied the cice- 
 rone, " by an earthquake which happened several 
 years before the destruction of the city ;" and these 
 fragments were collected here when Tiberius was 
 emperor of Rome, by the Pompeians themselves, who 
 
 13 
 
9B NAPLES.-P0MPE1L 
 
 were preparing for a new colonnade, and little thought 
 the nineteenth century would look on their work and 
 find it unfinished. 
 
 Adjoining the forum are two theatres — the tragic 
 and the comic, the access to which is through vaulted 
 passages, intended to conduct the spectators to the 
 piazzas of the forum, when the performance was 
 interrupted by a shower. They are built on the same 
 plan as that of Herculaneum, though much smaller 
 and far less splendid. Fifteen rows of seats rise 
 behind each other in semicircles, supported on the 
 outside by a wall of the same curve forty ieet high, and 
 internally by four tiers of arches which form the cor- 
 ridors, or passages leading to every part of the build- 
 ing. The involved plan on which these passages 
 are arranged, often brings the stranger abruptly to a 
 stair-case or a dark and narrow door, when he least 
 expects or wishes it ; but every spectator was pro- 
 vided with an ivory ticket, marked with three or four 
 numbers, which corresponded with the Roman letters 
 over the passages, and conducted him without con- 
 fusion to his proper seat. On the steps and floors, 
 which were both of hewn stone, we frequently noticed 
 places much worn down by the feet of our ancient pre- 
 decessors, particularly among the upper parts, and in 
 places where the vulgar, to whom they were devoted, 
 had often crowded to witness some interesting exhibi- 
 tion. The door-posts leading to the upper seats also 
 bore the marks of much crowding and leaning- On 
 the other side of the theatre is a high and straight 
 wall, at the foot of which is the stage, with a semicir-^ 
 cular space, or arena, in front, for the occasional ex- 
 hibition of wrestling. The lower seats were for the 
 most honourable citizens, while the musicians sat just 
 before them, and the consuls occupied elevated plat- 
 
NAPLES.— POMPEII. 99 
 
 forms above the doors, which open on each side of the 
 arena. 
 
 Turning round, we looked down from the height of 
 about forty feet upon a great many small, unroofed 
 buildings, crowded confusedly together, and inter- 
 rupted here and there with an open space, or a kw 
 broken columns. Just below, on the right, a narrow 
 lane ran by the wall of the theatre, and at a short 
 distance turned suddenly to the left, and was soon lost 
 in the city. 
 
 Our guide begged us not to loiter : telling us we had 
 yet so much to see, and objects of such superior impor- 
 tance, that we should thank him for having hastened 
 us on. He led us therefore into the street, which is 
 the Consular Way. It is only about fifteen feet wide, 
 with side-walks of a foot and a half more on each side, 
 and is lined with buildings of a single story. We 
 eagerly inquired whether every thing we saw wa& 
 really ancient — whether the houses had not been 
 repaired, and whether the deep ruts in the large 
 stones of the pavement, had not been worn by modern 
 carriages. He requested that we would have a 
 little patience, promising to tell us everything: but 
 first we were to go, if we pleased, to the Amphi- 
 theatre. As he spoke we turned to the right, into 
 another street, and came to a spot where the double 
 line of buildings entered the side of a sandy bank and 
 disappeared, for here was the limit of the excavations. 
 Having scrambled up we found ourselves in a vineyard, 
 with a path winding before us till it disappeared among 
 tall and leafless trees, the campagna on the right, and 
 Vesuvius on the left. The scene appeared to have 
 assumed an aspect of peculiar gloom, since we had 
 been in Pompeii, and could realize that two-thirds of 
 a city lay buried below. 
 
100 NAPLES.— POMPEII. 
 
 A walk of a mile brought us to the eastern extre- 
 mity of the mound, after we had seen a few farm- 
 houses at a distance through the trees ; and here a 
 street with its houses emerged from a broken bank. 
 At thirty yards distance, on the right hand, stood a 
 large oval structure of hewn stone, with three arched 
 entrances opening upon the street. We had hardly 
 stepped within the threshold when we heard a noise 
 from the interior, very loud and confused, which seem- 
 ed to proceed from a number of persons stamping or 
 clapping their hands. As we proceeded through a 
 dark arched passage, we began to see the rows of seats 
 on the opposite side of the house, which rise behind 
 each other like those of a theatre, but form a complete 
 oval, of such a size that the flat ground in the middle, 
 which was devoted to games and battles, is eighty-four 
 steps in length. Nobody was yet to be seen, though 
 the sounds continued till we stepped on the soft sand, 
 when they suddenly ceased ; and on looking round, the 
 whole arena was clear, and we were alone in the am- 
 phitheatre. We had heard but the echoes of our foot- 
 steps ; and when we spoke, our words were repeated 
 distinctly on the opposite side. It was no deception, 
 for our words were justly pronounced whether in 
 Italian or English. 
 
 The building may be compared to two theatres 
 united : and the ascent is in the same manner, by steps 
 leading to long corridors, which are numbered and 
 communicate with every part. As in the tragic theatre, 
 the marble casings have been removed, and the upper 
 parts of the wall are decayed : but one may mount to j 
 many places with ease, looking out upon the campagna 
 from the windows of the corridors, seat himself on the 
 short turf which bears the shape of the old rows of 
 benches, and recal with interest the scenes which 
 
NAPLES.— POMPEII. IQl 
 
 passed in the arena so long ago, while Vesuvius, the 
 destroyer and the preserver of Pompeii, is seen oppo- 
 site, throwing up columns of smoke. 
 
 In the arched passage by which we entered and left 
 the Amphitheatre, are shown several small dungeons, 
 in which it is probable wild beasts were kept for the 
 shows, and in the door-post of one of them, an iron 
 staple still remains. 
 
 Having gratified our curiosity at this place, and 
 entered a few of the neighbouring buildings, probably 
 shops, which were very small, and entirely empty, we 
 eagerly returned by the way we had come, and a 
 deep melancholy seized us as we descended again 
 into the city of the dead. The narrow Consular Way, 
 paved with heavy stones, in which deep ruts were 
 worn by ancient wheels, and lined with small shops, 
 built close together, led on before us about fifty 
 yards, and then turned to the left and was lost. The 
 side- walks were made of bits of marble, and other 
 stones of all colours, laid in a hard cement, and worn 
 perfectly smooth by the feet of the old inhabitants, 
 but they were very narrow, and every thing about us 
 was on a most diminutive scale. There was not a single 
 window, yet every door was open, which gave an air 
 of hospitality to the town : but when we entered, we 
 found the roofs gone, no furniture to be seen, and 
 nothing but the remains of a fire-place raised two or 
 three feet from the floor, or a few earthen jars. 
 
 A little way from the street on the left side, is the 
 Temple of Isis, which occupies an oblong piece of 
 ground, open above, and surrounded by rows of plas- 
 tered columns. An inscription which was found here, 
 but has since been removed, purports that the temple 
 was ruined by the earthquake before mentioned, and 
 rebuilt by Numerius Popidius Celsinus. On one side 
 
1 02 NAPLES.— POMPEII. 
 
 is an altar for burning victims, and on the other that 
 for receiving the ashes, a quantity of vi'hich were 
 found on digging it out. The sanctuary, at the farther 
 end, is ascended bj seven steps, where the great altar 
 is seen, faced by a vestibule with six beautiful columns, 
 and ornamented with a picture in Mosaic. This was 
 one of the principal temples of the city ; and here 
 were found the skeletons of several priests. 
 
 Near this place is the tribunal — a small square with 
 a pulpit on one side, surrounded with twenty fluted 
 columns; and just beyond is the great tragic theatre, 
 already described. There is an inscription which 
 mentions the rebuilding of it, together with " the tri- 
 bunal, the public fountain, and the water channels." 
 
 The public fountain is a large reservoir close at 
 hand, under which have been discovered several con- 
 duits branching off to the lower parts of the city: for 
 this spot is a little elevated. 
 
 Beyond, the ground rises gradually to a gentle hill, 
 with a precipitous termination towards the south. 
 The top is occupied by a ruinous temple of Grecian 
 architecture, and near it is the grand portico — a 
 spacious triangle on the brow of the hill, with the wall 
 of the tragic theatre on the left, and a row of fifty-six 
 columns on the right. From this airy spot the view 
 ranges over the neighbouring parts of the campagna„ 
 and of the Bay of Naples, the opposite mountains and 
 several distant villages, and towns, and villas. In all 
 probability, the base of this sandy and stony hill was 
 jformerly washed by the sea: for Pompeii was an im- 
 portant sea-port, though the shore is now nearly a 
 mile and a half off, and the intervening plain covered 
 with cultivated fields 
 
 Close by is seen the city wall, twelve feet thick, and 
 twenty feet high, this point being one extremity of 
 
NAPLES.— POMPEII. ] 03 
 
 Pompeii : but retracing our steps for a short distance, 
 we again found ourselves in a quiet street. Still, the 
 narrow pavenaents, the ruts of small carriage-wheels, 
 and the lowness of the buildings continued to strike 
 us as very diminutive : for though the public buildings 
 were large and even magnificent, the streets and 
 houses srem intended for a race of pigmies, and quite 
 unfit for Romans. 
 
 The Consular Way crosses at right angles the street 
 in which we now were walking: and, turning to tljp 
 right, and passing down it some distance, you come 
 to the house of a surgeon, in which more than.fiiiy 
 surgical instruments were found. It consists of three 
 small rooms, which, according to custom, are plas- 
 tered and ornamented with pictures, in water colours. 
 The Pompeians were so fond of pictures, that scarce 
 a house is to be found in the city without them. It is 
 well known, that all the valuable ones are removed 
 as fast as they are discovered, by a very ingenious 
 process, by which they are taken down and trans- 
 ported to the king's palace at Portici, without the 
 least injury. In these apartments however they had 
 all been left untouched, and proved much more 
 interesting in their original localities. They were all 
 small, and one occupied the middle of each wall. 
 Two of the rooms, I think, were painted with birds, 
 and the other with groups, relating to the profession of 
 the inhabitant, of which I can recal but one : Adonis, 
 lying on a bank surrounded by Venus and her weep- 
 ing nymphs, with a bloody bandage staunching his 
 wound. The group was graceful ; and the colours, 
 which are all metallic, were as bright as if just painted. 
 In a closet was still remaining a wooden shelf, from 
 which the instruments had been taken to be carried 
 to the palace of studies at Naples. 
 
I Q4 NAPLES.— POMPEII. 
 
 Returning from this place toward the Public Way, 
 on the opposite side of the Consular Way is the shop 
 of a sculptor, in which were found bits of marble, 
 several busts and statues, with others half formed of 
 rough blocks, and the tools with which they had been 
 wrought. In some of the dwellings were found tickets 
 for the theatres and amphitheatres, in the forms of birds, 
 beasts, &;c. with Roman numbers answering to those of 
 the doors and stair-cases ; but all these various objects 
 have been removed to Portici. 
 
 Near thi? is the Temple of Esculapius, and the in- 
 tersection of the Public Way with the Consular, by 
 which the city is divided into four irregular parts. 
 Beyond, are the ruins of many buildings, in which 
 were found some beautiful paintings and marble pave- 
 ments. Next, are the houses of Marcellus, and Suet- 
 tius Popidius, an edile. On the opposite side, are 
 the dwellings of Caius Julius a decemvir, Kneius 
 Hilarius Sabinus, and S. Fortunata. 
 
 The mode in which the largest dwellings were built, 
 is singular, but, on many accounts, the best fitted for 
 the climate and situation. All, except a very few, are 
 of one story, probably to guard against the effects of 
 earthquakes : and the rooms are very small, I presume 
 on account of the scarcity of room. According to 
 their size, houses and villas contain one or more 
 square courts, open above, and surrounded with piaz- 
 zas, which partially protect from the weather the 
 entrances to the sleeping-rooms, usually ranged 
 around them by fours. Other apartments of the 
 house are situated according to the taste of the 
 builder : but it is easy to conjecture the uses to which , 
 they were devoted by the remains of furniture, uten- 
 sils, or the pictures on the walls. 
 
 At a corner of the street is a building, with a pic- 
 ture on the outside, of a serpent biting an apple, which 
 
NAPLES.— POMPEII. 105 
 
 is supposed to have been the shop of an apothecary 
 from this circumstance, as well as on account of the 
 dry vases and pills found within. 
 
 The villa of Julius Equanus, has a number of 
 Columns surrounding the principal court-yard, which 
 are painted imitations of Mosaic. 
 
 Next to this is the villa of Julius Polybius, the his- 
 torian. Here, as in the other splendid habitations we 
 had seen, were courts, bed-rooms, a kitchen, and vari- 
 ous other apartments, supposed to have been the par- 
 lour, dining-room, and hall : but there were some 
 objects of more than usual interest. In a corner of 
 one of the courts, was the ancient well, guarded by a 
 circular curb, cut from a solid block of marble, and 
 worn inside in many deep channels made by the rub- 
 bing of the bucket-ropes. Besides, in a small yard is 
 a narrow bed of earth, in which herbs and flowers 
 seem to have been once planted; and behind it are 
 still remaining untouched, long branches of trees, and 
 birds of various plumage, painted on the wall to de- 
 ceive the eye. At a little distance, in a recess, is a 
 triclinium, or small circular table of marble, standing 
 between two long seats, made of stones and plaster, 
 which slope gently outward to favour the recumbent 
 posture, used by the Romans at meat. This was evi- 
 dently a favourite retreat for the family, from the bus- 
 tle of the city, and the warmth of the house ; and 
 every thing around us spoke of seclusion and domes- 
 tic enjoyment, while above us was the open sky of this 
 delightful climate, and the top of Vesuvius, the de- 
 stroyer, was seen at a distance throwing up volumes 
 of smoke. 
 
 Contiguous to this, and separated only by a single 
 wall, is the house of Svettius Erennius, with the name 
 of its ancient inhabitant written over the door. We 
 
 14 
 
106 
 
 NAPLES.-POMPEII. 
 
 then passed'^everal other houses; and crossing the 
 street, entered the door of a smith's shop, in which 
 were found iron hoops, and many tools : hammers, pin- 
 cers, &c. . In a shop, bejond, we saw^ a number of 
 large earthen jars of antique forms, with curious 
 turned handles and ears, in which oil and wine were 
 kept for sale. Some of them have a dry crust within, 
 the remains of these liquids. Next is the ruinous 
 house of Julius Cecilius Capella, and another with the 
 name of Caius Salustius, which is one of the finest 
 dwellings in the city. 
 
 Proceeding still farther along the street, we passed 
 another oil and wine shop, a public fountain and re- 
 servoir, long since dry, two shops where wine was. 
 sold by the draught, a soap-manufactory, and the pub- 
 lic weighing-office. Here were found weights of lead 
 and marble, two pair of scales, and several steelyards ! 
 Near by, is a baker's shop, where was a heap of w heat 
 perfectly black, and converted into charcoal; with a 
 loaf of bread, in the same state, which had been 
 baked in a round, scalloped dish, and was marked 
 with crossing lines on the top, and the brand of th^ 
 maker. 
 
 After we had thus followed our guide for a long 
 time, from one place to another, he told us, that be- 
 fore proceeding farther in the Consular Way, we were 
 to turn off to the right, through a narrow street, td^ 
 see a number of buildings lately brought to light by 
 the workmen. We followed him, therefore : but, irt 
 spite of all our care, we soon began to grow uncer^^ 
 tain, and then perfectly bewildered, so that we could! 
 not tell a single point in the whole compass. NeW 
 streets and lanes, shops and villas, opened upon us at 
 every turn, while the guide preceded us, with the^ 
 familiarity of an inhabitant : now along a blind alleys 
 
rsAPLES.— POMPEII. 
 
 107 
 
 to shorten our walk, and now through a private house, 
 and dark passages, to a breach in the garden wall. 
 We often hesitated to enter so unceremoniously, 
 places which had, at first, the appearance of being 
 inhabited ; yet not a person was to be seen, and not a 
 sound to be heard. 
 
 A large building of two stories, lately cleared of 
 earth, contains a statue of Ceres, erected by the 
 bakers of Pompeii. It is much admired, and has 
 been suffered to remain, with the inscription on the 
 wall behind it. What followed, is a confused impres- 
 sion of much that was surprising and interesting in a 
 high degree, which gave the mind alternately great 
 pleasure and great pain, until we came to where the 
 streets and houses have been uncovered within a year 
 — a month, a week; and saw fine buildings whose 
 names or inhabitants have not yet been conjectured; 
 rich marble columns, variegated pavements, and beau- 
 tiful paintings, still untouched; and, at last, where two 
 or three labourers were at work, with spade and mat- 
 tock, in the loose sand hill which still entombs so large 
 a part of the city. These half-clad wretches fell a 
 begging as soon as we approached, though the sound 
 of a voice made us shudder with an involuntary hor- 
 ror: for this house had been dishumed to-day, and 
 the figures on the walls seemed the men of antiquity 
 just waking from the dead, and gazing on the heavens 
 again, after a sleep of seventeen centuries. 
 
 On our way back, we were still bewildered, and so 
 occupied with thoughts we could not express, that 
 scarce a word was spoken. We were looking at the 
 very objects with which the inhabitants of this city 
 were familiar, when Pompeii ranked among the cities 
 of the earth — when each house was a dwelling-place, 
 when these pavements rattled under the wheels of 
 
103 NAPLES.— POMPEn. 
 
 coaches, and the steps of thronging men were wear- 
 ing their traces in the stones. The streets with their 
 lines of buildings, preserved their ancient aspect as 
 unaltered as the sky above ; and the inhabitants — the 
 inhabitants! were continually obtruding upon our 
 thoughts. We listened to catch the sound of their 
 voices, and looked anxiously in at every door. Surely 
 they must be at hand. 
 
 We entered once more the Consular Way; and the 
 feet of men have worn a hollow in the side-walk by 
 turning hastily round the corner. Here is the villa 
 of Cicero. You gain it by a single step from the 
 street, but linger unconsciously at the threshold for 
 some one to bid you welcome. Your eye falls upon 
 the paved floor, made of small squares of white mar- 
 ble, and just before you is the Roman salutation, 
 "SALVE," inlaid with black. It speaks like the 
 voice of the venerable inhabitant, and you pass from 
 room to room, wondering to find them all deserted. 
 Here is the kitchen — ^^on one wall is painted a heap 
 of dead birds, on another, pieces of flesh, there fruits 
 and vegetables, and over the fire-place, which was 
 raised two or three feet from the floor, are oysters, 
 live eels, and other fish, of various shapes. Proceed 
 to the first court — the inlaid pavement is slippery with 
 frequent footsteps, the marble well-curb is marked with 
 the draw-ropes of Cicero's servants. Did you not see 
 the waving of a garment as some one entered yonder 
 door? Follow, and see. It is his bed-chamber, and 
 its walls are beautifully painted with figures of sleep- 
 ing gods and goddesses. But where is the inhabitant.^ 
 Perhaps in the street, at the forum, at one of the tem- 
 ples, where he ofliciated as high priest. They are 
 empty. At the amphitheatre, — you think you hear 
 the applause of the multitude as you enter ; but the 
 
NAPLES.— POMPEII. |09 
 
 arena is clear — not a solitary spectator in all those 
 ranges of seats. Return. — What would you not give 
 to meet a single man ? But no. It is a delusion. It 
 is seventeen hundred years since this city was deserted 
 by its inhabitants. And such a flight! What tumult, 
 what dread, what shrieks did Pompeii witness ! But 
 all has passed ; and the silence of ages has settled 
 upon it. And what has occurred in that time? 
 The thought is insupportable — it stupifies, it over- 
 whelms, yet by turns, it delights, and absorbs so en- 
 tirely the mind, that every other subject is thrust out, 
 and even the faculties of hearing and speech seem 
 suspended. 
 
 You forget yourself and the age you live in. Where 
 am I ? It is Pompeii — the old city, which has been 
 dug out of its grave—and the inhabitants ! Ah ! they 
 are long since dwellers in another world, and there 
 the faces are seen, and the voices heard, which you 
 seek for here. Thus you reflect, and are convinced : 
 there is no one here ; and at the very next corner you 
 start, because the street is empty. Where are the 
 people ? Hush ! it is Pompeii ! . Full of a thousand 
 new thoughts, and feelings, his mouth closed, because 
 it has failed to express them; the traveller wanders 
 on from object to object, and stares wildly round him, 
 as if he had just opened his eyes on a new world, and 
 hardly deemed himself awake. " 1 shall have nothing 
 more to desire," he says, " I have lived a whole life 
 to-day. Antiquity has stood before me like an ill- 
 formed dream — it is now reality, i stand, I move 
 among the men of old times. They aire not shadows, 
 the indistinct visions presented by the imagination, 
 when we would recal our predecessors back to this 
 world : not the confused multitude in the back-ground 
 ^f a picture, where a single dash of the pencil makes 
 
I IQ NAPLES.— POMPEIL 
 
 a score of things you would fain call men : but human 
 beings, each possessed of a peculiar look, and voice, 
 and air; with an object, a character, and interests of 
 his own. Now you are surprised at the mist through 
 which you have always seen antiquity. History 
 changes at once from the cold, dull words of a moth- 
 eaten volume, to the livehness of a speaking voice ; 
 and her children have lost the dead and stony gaze 
 of a marble statue : the blood flies through their 
 v^ins, and they turn upon you with moving eyes and 
 speaking lips. But this is not all : we feel superior 
 to history herself, and proud at enjoying privileges of 
 which she would have boasted. She has instructed 
 us with a parrot's tongue in the deeds of the great 
 men of ancient times : but we are admitted like asso- 
 ciates into their houses. We converse with them, we 
 feel with them ; we look from their doors, and through 
 their eyes, upon their world. Nay, we mingle with 
 their friends and a thousand of their cotemporaries, 
 who have been forgotten, because not a papyrus in 
 Pompeii bears their names. 
 
 The scholar may range through an ancient world of 
 his own, which he has formed in his study of the men 
 whom partial history has enrolled for immortality : 
 but, in the streets of Pompeii, we mix with the sub- 
 jects of Rome : the objects of her laws, the materials 
 of her empire ; part of that world for whose applause 
 great deeds were undertaken by her soldiers, and 
 even by her emperors : a mass of those beings on 
 whom the philosopher, the statesman, the poet re- 
 flected, and based their own peculiar systems. All her 
 long boasted wisdom history now resigns, and humbly 
 places herself at our feet for instruction : for we are 
 familiar with things of which she doubted the exist- 
 ence ; and those of which she formed the wildest con- 
 jectures, we see and handle. 
 
NAPLES— POMPEII. 1 1 1 
 
 But would you escape to some retirement, to indulge 
 at leisure in reflections on some few and definite ob- 
 jects? Step in at this open door — go on to one of the 
 most secluded apartments. This is the home of a 
 happy family. Mark their faces — these are not the 
 bold, harsh lines of Roman physiognomy, nor the 
 classic, but inexpressive features of a Grecian statue ; 
 but the looks, the expressions with which we have 
 been familiar, such as exist in our world, traits which 
 remind us of our friends. Here is one surrounded by 
 a circle of her children, the centre of which is to her 
 the most blessed spot on earth. This house once 
 bounded her affections — yes, this apartment, so long 
 deserted and forgotten, and now exposed to the sun 
 and the rain, this apartment was seventeen hundred 
 years ago the home of a family. A thousand delight- 
 ful things were once associated in the minds of its 
 inhabitants with this neglected place, with the seclu- 
 sion of this retreat, with these very pictures on the 
 walls. Can you tell how much it interests you to 
 stand in the midst of them, and to take a view of the 
 world from their peaceful hearth ? There is some- 
 thing irresistibly affecting in the solemn silence of 
 this place, when you think of it as the peaceful abode 
 of persons, who were alive to more amiable affections 
 than the love of fame — who regarded the deeds of 
 Rome, not as they promoted the glory of the empire, 
 and triumphed over subjugated nations, but as they 
 touched the happiness of friends, and blasted the 
 hopes of parents. 
 
 Whoever has a father, let him remember the head 
 of this house. Who has a mother he loves ? Here 
 was once such a woman ; yes, in this spot. Do you 
 not recognise in her manner, her smile, her eye, all 
 that is amiable in an affectionate mother of modern 
 
112 NAPLES— POMPEII. 
 
 times? Centuries, indeed, have passed away; but 
 the human features, as well as the human character^ 
 are essentially the same. Look at that picture on the 
 wall ; smiles and tears were known in Pompeii. Are 
 you a husband ? Here lived a husband, the father of a 
 family. This apartment was not always empty : it was 
 arranged and garnished like your own home, by a 
 woman who drew her happiness from his approbation 
 and love. In this place, he found such domestic peace 
 and happiness as attach you to your home, and make 
 you love to live. But where has he gone ? Vou are 
 told his life is an antiquated, a long forgotten tale; 
 that there is no trace of him on earth. Nay, did I not 
 hear his voice in the next apartment ? No — the roof 
 is gone, nothing is seen above but the sky. The truth 
 returns upon you, as it were, with a staggering blow; 
 this house has been untenanted for ages : its last inha- 
 bitant was a Roman citizen, and he lived under the 
 reign of the emperor Titus : a man who heard of the 
 desolation of Judah, from captives taken fighting on 
 the walls of Jerusalem, and the first glad news of 
 Christianity — perchance from the mouth of Paul him- 
 self Perhaps he was one of those who believed the 
 wondrous tale of the resurrection ; and if so, how- 
 ever humble and poor, was capable of instructing the 
 wits and the statesmen of Rome. 
 
 You remain speechless — for what can you say.^ 
 You are in the cell of a magician, whose wand bears 
 control over time, and rolls back past centuries, like 
 clouds before the wind. A supernatural power is at 
 work, producing effects which strike us with awe, and 
 calling up the ghosts of antiquity, to frighten away 
 our usual enjoyments. And seen from this place, how 
 does the present world appear? A mass of the bones 
 and ashes of men; a melancholy shore, which the 
 
NAPLES.— POMPEII. 
 
 113 
 
 waves of time have strewed with the wrecks of nations, 
 and heaps of broken sceptres. 
 
 There is too much of distress in the scene. — Let us 
 pass on. — Nay, stop ! This is the place where men 
 should meditate; here a monarch would find a reproof 
 for his pride, and despise the tinsel of his crown : for 
 here the voice of death would whisper, nay, scream 
 in his ear, and remind him of his mean mortality. 
 This is a book of history spread out before the world : 
 and who can help but read ? — Here ruin stands ; and 
 while he points at antiquity, to show the spectres of 
 past centuries, flitting away, and lost, and a thousand 
 times forgotten, he raises the finger at the cities, the 
 successors of departed Pompeii— at the world, the 
 phantoms of to-day, and threatens them with a down- 
 fal as complete, and an oblivion as deep and inevita- 
 ble. Here months, years, and ages have sunk toge- 
 ther in silence, like the waves of the ocean in a whole 
 climate of calms: here time has left his glass un* 
 turned, for seventeen hundred years. 
 
 No man ever visited this place for the first time, 
 without considering that day an era in his life. It 
 opens channels of thought, and sources of serious 
 reflection, as well as of high enjoyment, which can 
 never be exhausted. Pompeii surfeits curiosity with 
 painful heaps of novelties. The ears, the eyes, all 
 the passages of sense, are choked ; and leisure and 
 seclusion are eagerly sought, to arrange and preserve 
 the precious hoards of knowledge. 
 
 A traveller once exclaimed that he had been into 
 the quarry of antiquity, and dug out history like blocks 
 of marble ; and added, that he should spend his life 
 in reflecting on what he had seen, and in rejoicing 
 that he had reached there, even if he had reduced 
 himself to poverty in performing it : for there were 
 
 15 
 
] ] 4 NAPLES.— POMPEII. 
 
 mental riches there to be obtained, with which all 
 the gems of the world are not fit to be compared, and 
 without which a monarch would be a beggar. '^ They 
 will ask me," said he, " why I am thoughtful — why I am 
 not cheerful like other men. I will point to Pompeii, 
 and remain silent. Pompeii is an answer to every 
 question, and propounds questions which the world 
 cannot answer." 
 
 We returned again towards the Consular Way, whe- 
 ther by the route we had come or not, was a matter of 
 doubt; but at length reaching a corner, where a little 
 hollow was worn in tbe side-walk, by the feet of the 
 ancient passengers, we recognized some of the dwell- 
 ings and shops already particularly mentioned. On 
 the left we examined the ruins of a block of large 
 houses, of which little more than the cellars are now 
 to be seen; and these are upon a steep declivity, so 
 that we descended into them by broken stair-cases of 
 stone. The ground beyond is now cultivated; and 
 the bay, I think, was hidden from us by the trees, 
 although it seems incontestable that this was the 
 margin of the port. In spite of the grass and shrubs 
 with which the walls are much overgrown, enough 
 may still be seen in the size and solidity of the build- 
 ings, the broad stair cases and doors, to prove that they 
 were devoted to the reception and storing of mer- 
 chandize in large quantities; and in one place is a 
 ring-bolt fixed in a wall, intended either to assist in 
 raising heavy articles, or for fastening small vessels to 
 the shore. 
 
 The remaining part of tbe street is lined with such 
 little shops as have been spoken of before, with only 
 a few buildings of different descriptions. In one of 
 the former, which is supposed to have been a money- 
 changer's, was a jar half full of gold coins, which is 
 
NAPLES.— POMPEII. j ] 5 
 
 the only money yet found in the city. " Had not the 
 inhabitants had time to remove all their money and 
 jewels," remarked our new guide, " all Pompeii 
 would have been laid open long ago." On the 
 marble sill of another shop, we saw a small circle 
 worn in and stained, which is generally taken for the 
 mark of the cups in which wine was sold to pas- 
 sengers. What I have here called a window, served 
 indeed the purposes of one, but was thrown into one 
 general opening with the door, not divided even by a 
 post. 
 
 One of the city gates was now in sight before us ; 
 and near it is a building with a wide door, supposed 
 to have been a place where carriages were mended 
 and let. On another house is an inscription, which, if 
 rightly translated, indicates a state of public manners 
 and feelings, more corrupt than we would fain attri- 
 bute even to the ancient worshippers of the Roman, 
 Grecian, and Egyptian gods. Such a religious system, 
 however, as thej were taught to believe and practice, 
 must have effects ; and those effects must inevitably 
 be opposed to the fundamental laws of a virtuous and 
 well regulated society. In fact, so far from being sur- 
 prised at such proofs as Pompeii and Herculaneum 
 have furnished, of the moral degradation of the 
 ancients, a little reflection makes us wonder at our- 
 selves for not suspecting them before. 
 
 The city gate is a solid structure of hewn stone, 
 thirty or forty feet high, connected with the wall, which 
 is partly dug out. It was formerly the only passage on 
 this side, and stands over the Consular Way, the road to 
 Naples and Puteoli, the latter of which is about thirty 
 miles distant. This ancient road is supposed to con- 
 tinue, with few important interruptions, at the present 
 day, as it has been discovered in several places 
 beneath the surface. Immediately after passing the 
 
II Q NAPLES.— POMPEII . 
 
 the gate, a new set of objects present themselves : d 
 long range of tombs on each side, generally built of 
 white marble, and in excellent preservation, as well as 
 of an imposing size and great beauty. One of them 
 particularly was of so pure a white, and retained all 
 the marks of the chissel with such freshness, that we 
 could hardly credit the guide, when he said it was not 
 a recent work. The almost total want of inscriptions 
 left much of our curiosity ungratified ; for their cost- 
 liness, together with the manner in which they were 
 elevated from the street, showed very plainly that 
 rival families had vied with each other in their con- 
 struction. One of them is supposed to have been 
 built for gladiators killed at the public games, because 
 it has sculptured weapons upon its outer wall; but 
 that in which our friend the captain seemed to feel the 
 warmest interest, was the tomb of a sailor. It was 
 about twenty feet square, and perhaps of the same 
 height, accessible as usual from the street, by a 
 flight of steps, which are of the same snow-white 
 marble as the structure itself A little walled 
 passage leads round it on three sides, from one of 
 which we looked, through a grate, into a small cham- 
 ber with three niches, one of which contained an 
 ancient glass vase, partly filled with human bones and 
 ashes. At some distance from the ground, is carved 
 a Roman galley, with a long latteen yard, apparently 
 rigged on the same plan with the boats now used in 
 the bay of Naples. 
 
 The road soon brought us to the remains of a large 
 building on the right, which is supposed to have been 
 a custom house for articles from the country, or a toll 
 house for those who passed the gate. The skeletons 
 of horses were found collected about stone posts, to 
 which they had been tied. This countenances the 
 ©pinion that a toll was to be paid, which would pro- 
 
NAPLES.— POMPEII. 117 
 
 bably induce strangers to leave their horses outside. 
 It is not conclusive, however, for the house may per- 
 haps have been only an inn after all. 
 
 There remains one more villa to be seen : that of 
 Marcus Arrius Diomedes, one of Cicero's friends. 
 It stands among a few other ruins, which formed the 
 village known by the name of Pagus Augustus Felix, 
 and is much more spacious than those we had visited 
 in the city, it enclosed a large court, which we over- 
 looked in passing along an old gallery on the second 
 story The cellar is built of stone and mortar, 
 arched overhead, and dimly hghted by narrow slips 
 or loop holes, extending round the three other sides 
 of the court. Here we saw many amphorse, or jugs 
 and jars of different forms, and some of them large 
 enough to contain a barrel or two, some of which were 
 lined with a crust — the remains of the oil and wine 
 which they formerly contained. Whole rows of 
 similar vessels have been removed, as well as cer- 
 tain other objects of a more melancholy description, 
 such as the skeletons of seventeen persons, who had 
 probably sought refuge here during the fatal eruption 
 of the mountain. It is to be supposed that they had 
 been detained in the neighbourhood by saving their 
 property, or searching for lost friends, until they were 
 afraid to attempt an escape, over a region covered 
 with cinders and ashes from the mountain, which had 
 overspread the whole surface, with such drifts as we 
 saw on our journey to the crater, and had already 
 crushed in the roofs of their own or their neighbours' 
 dweUings. The substantial walls of this cellar, and 
 its arched roof, were admirably calculated to with- 
 stand such a dangerous pressure; but they were over- 
 taken by another calamity, which was as inevitable as 
 unexpected. The mountain poured down a river 
 
123 NAPLES.— POMPEII. 
 
 of hot water, which, although it did not enter the 
 walls of Pompeii, flowed through this little village, 
 and drowned the forlorn and terrified persons who 
 had fled to it for safety. The neighbourhood was 
 consequently covered with a hard cement, like that at 
 Herculaneum ; and the bones, which were principally 
 found heaped together in a corner, were thus imbed- 
 ded, and protected from decay. At a little distance 
 from them was the skeleton of a man, probably 
 Diomedes himself, with necklaces and coins in his 
 hand, and a bunch of keys, once fastened to his gir- 
 dle, DOW to his bones; and behind him that of a ser- 
 vant, with several vases of silver and bronze. Among 
 these gloomy reliques, were the bones and jewels of 
 a woman, supposed to be the mistress of this once 
 magnificent edifice ; and the surrounding mass of 
 indurated ashes retained the impressions it had re- 
 ceive(3, from the arms and the breast of the corpse, 
 although the flesh had long ago mouldered away. I 
 
 We had now done with Pompeii and its vicinity, 
 where our minds had so long been lost among the 
 men and the scenes of ancient days, that for a moment 
 we could hardly recollect what century we lived in^ — 
 what age the world had reached : but as we passed 
 out of a iittle gate, where our coachman was waiting 
 for us, we were suddenly beset by a herd of beggars, 
 who fairly teased us back to modern times. There 
 were many reflections now returning to our minds, 
 which were received as unwelcome visitants : some 
 related to the fatigue we began to feel, others to 
 the state of things in degraded Italy ; the worst of 
 them all was the conviction, that there was now no j 
 imagination in the case. Yet in some points of view ' 
 the world had improved by the change ; and it was 
 with a throb of exultation, that we recurred to the 
 
NAPLES.— PORTICr. | j g 
 
 new world in the west : its institutions, its prosperity, 
 its inhabitants. 
 
 On our return from Pompeii, we stopped at the 
 king's palace in Portici. Here are to be seen a great 
 number of the pictures taken from Herculaneum, 
 Pompeii and Stabiae — a third city covered by Vesu- 
 vius, and now partly dug out. A large part of the 
 paintings were transported to Sicily some yeai^s since, 
 for fear of the French : but those which remain are 
 interesting in a high degree. With such care have 
 they been taken from the walls, that many of them 
 are injured only by the carelessness of their ancient 
 owners, or by the shaking of earthquakes. There 
 are fifteen hundred and eighty in all, of various sizes 
 and descriptions: and they are ranged in order around 
 the walls of ten or twelve apartments. The first two 
 or three contain specimens of ornamental lines, grace- 
 fully drawn, and brilliantly coloured — mere flourishes, 
 often delineated with the most scrupulous exactness, 
 according to the principles of grace and proportion. 
 Next we saw great numbers of birds and beasts ; 
 then a few landscapes and pictures of buildings. 
 But the largest pnrt of the collection consists of single 
 figures, or groups of gods and goddesses, nymphs, and 
 many other of those aerial beings, with which the 
 Roman mythology is crowded. Many critics have 
 taken occasion from the imperfection of these pic- 
 tures, to speak lightly of the art as it existed among 
 the ancients : but who would look on the plastered 
 wall of a house, or even of a villa, for the painting of 
 a master? It is not surprising that we should find 
 haste and imperfection in this place : yet if one were 
 disposed to defend the side so often attacked, he might 
 speak of the permanency of these water-colours, the 
 beauty of the design, in those especially which appear 
 
220 NAPLES.— PORTICI. 
 
 to be copies from others of more value, and the many 
 strong, masterly touches, which betray an experienced, 
 though a hurried hand. 
 
 An old man, of a very modest mien, conducted us 
 through the various apartments, with something like 
 the gratified air of one who has a promising family to 
 bring out to his friends. He is so swallowed up in a 
 long past age, that he seems hardly to have any con- 
 nection with present time : but who, among ob- 
 jects like these, would be content with less than an 
 enthusiast.^ He is an antiquary by profession ; and I 
 am more and more surprised, at the number and 
 variety of the objects preserved in this vicinity, as it 
 were, expressly for the pleasure of such men. 
 
 It may easily be supposed, that so soon after going 
 into Pompeii, and mingling with the ancients in the 
 ordinary concerns of life, the numerous pictures of 
 imaginary beings will not prove the most interesting 
 to a traveller. He cares not for the gods and god- 
 desses of their poets, and his attention is much drawn 
 away from the statesmen, wits and heroes of their his- 
 torians : he looks for men and women. The four pic- 
 tures to which the " antiquary" first directed our 
 attention, are the largest, and some of the finest in the 
 whole collection, (two of them being six feet and a half 
 high,) and were taken from an apartment of a private 
 house in Herculaneum. The process by which the 
 pictures are removed remains a secret ; but, by some 
 means or other, the plaster is torn off from the wall, with 
 such art, that even paintings of this size are not broken, 
 nor anywise injured by the operation. They are indeed 
 generally cracked in several places, but as they were 
 so when discovered, it was probably done by the 
 shaking of the walls by earthquakes. Flora, Hercules 
 and a Victory occupy the first picture, but to what par- 
 
NAPLES.— PORTICI. 221 
 
 ticular incident it refers is not decided. Here the 
 figures are done in a dingy flesh-colour, upon a brown- 
 ish red ground : and in this respect it may be given as 
 a specimen of nearly the whole collection. Cleopatra 
 with an asp, Theseus and the dead Minotaur, and a 
 centaur learning the young Apollo music, are the three 
 others. In the latter, the monster is playing the harp, 
 and the beautiful boy stands gazing at him, with a coun- 
 tenance expressive of the deepest attention. The- 
 seus, it appears, effected the death of the Minotaur 
 with a common walking-stick, hastily cut from a tree 
 and cleared of its twigs. Connoisseurs discover many 
 beauties in the composition and the drawing of these 
 pictures, while the execution is so inferior as to make 
 it probable that they are hasty copies ; and I dare say 
 they might find much pleasure in standing here, and dis- 
 cussing the state of the arts in Italy under the reign of 
 Titus. But untaught travellers will be gratified with 
 such things as introduce them more directly to the 
 ancients, and to the scenes with which they were 
 actually familiar. Perhaps one will no where feel 
 more strongly the desire of truth, so natural to the 
 mind : and fortunately he finds much to gratify him. 
 These paintings have brought to light few facts of 
 great import : but many minute circumstances, beneath 
 the notice of history it is true, but not beneath our 
 desires, and exactly what a man of common sense 
 seems to require, in order that he may realize in a 
 vivid manner, that his old predecessors in the world 
 were beings like himself, affected in the same manner 
 by similar circumstances, and driven by similar exi- 
 gencies to the same expedients. He longs for some- 
 thing to remove the cold reverence he feels while 
 viewing them at such a distance, to take them as it 
 were, by the hand, and feel if they really be flesh and 
 
 16 
 
1 22 NAPLES.— PORTICr. 
 
 blood. At Pompeii, and at the cabinet of Portici, he 
 finds this something removed, and his desire fulfilled 
 in a manner the most satisfactory. 
 
 The following enumeration I made with my pencil 
 on the spot^ being unwilling to trust my memory with 
 such a number of particulars, in which accuracy is 
 quite indispensable. — A young lady, with a fan shaped 
 like a large leaf, has a very amiable expression of 
 face, though her features are such as we* call ordinary, 
 and her nose, so far from what we call the Roman stan- 
 dard, is short, and a little turned up. I might not have 
 been surprised to meet her in modern times : but how 
 strange to find her living in Pompeii ! — Sappho medi-r 
 tating an ode, with her stylus, which somewhat resem- 
 bles a pencil, pressed to her lips. In her left hand, 
 she holds her tablets: four thin, square plates, like 
 ivory, tied together with a blue riband, in the form 
 of a small book. — Cupid holding a parasol, which is 
 shaped exactly like a modern one, and is ornamented 
 in the same manner, with a fringe. — Ariadne deserted 
 by Theseus. She is starting from sleep at the sound 
 of his vessel passing by, part of which is represented 
 on the picture, and shows two oars through the stern, 
 to be used instead of a rudder. — The education of Bac- 
 chus : taught to drink before he can well walk. An 
 old saddle on the back of an ass, which the painter 
 has introduced, might be mistaken for one of those on 
 which we rode up Vesuvius. — A family at dinner. 
 Here is set out a trichnium, or small round table with 
 three legs, on which are three vessels, and something 
 which may, perhaps, be a spoon. A girl is bringing for^ 
 ward a square smoking dish, a man, on the right hand^ 
 reclines upon a bench, and his wife opposite is sitting 
 on a circular chair, which has no back. The bus-* 
 band is drinking from a horn, which he holds at arm's 
 
iVAPLES.— PORTICL J23 
 
 length, in such a manner that the liquor runs into his 
 mouth. The woman is speaking to the girl, and wears 
 large ear-rings, with her hair curled and dressed high 
 on the top of her head. 
 
 There is a picture of Dido deserted by Enaeas, and 
 one of the introduction of the Grecian horse into 
 Troy. There is one which represents the harbour 
 of Puteoli ; but, unfortunately, the rules of perspec- 
 tive are all so set at nought, that a man is fishing 
 from the top of Nisis [Nisita,] and the water stands 
 up straight before you. It presents the mole, now a 
 mere ruin, in its perfect state; and two gallies, of 
 three banks of oars, are entering the port. The 
 holes for oars are ranged in three lines, like the ports 
 of a line of battle ship. Splendid buildings crowd 
 the shore, and many others run out on piers, present- 
 ing a magnificent display of white walls, and colon- 
 nades. A little portico rises from the bay, toward the 
 south, the substructions of which the old man de- 
 clared he had seen, remaining under water about thirty 
 years ago. 
 
 In one place were children playing with masks; 
 and in another, caricature-drawings of men and wo- 
 men, much after the modern fashion, with enormous 
 heads and small bodies. There are also priests in 
 their officiating dresses, which doubtless must afford 
 some hints on the subject of religious ceremonials. 
 
 Painted signs were found over several shop-doors in 
 Pompeii, which, without the use of letters, told the 
 occupation of the master. One was for a shop of 
 kitchen utensils: and another is, a picture of a shoe- 
 maker's shop, executed in the most wretched style. 
 There is something like a work-bench, too indistinct 
 to be well seen, and many shoes hanging from above. 
 A man and woman have brought in their little boy, 
 whom the craftsman is fitting with new shoes. Next, 
 
124 i\APLES.~PORTICL 
 
 stands a sign taken from the door of a school, in 
 which is a most satisfactory proof of the antiquity of 
 horsing: a punishment some moderns are well ac- 
 quainted with. A delinquent is held on the shoulders 
 of one of his school-fellows, while another holds his 
 feet, and the pedagogue is bestowing his chastisement. 
 The other boys are ranged round on benches, with 
 something like bits of parchment in their hands; and, 
 terrified at the example, are studying with all their 
 might. Another sign, which seems to have been merely 
 ornamental, is a picture of three equestrian statues 
 erected by the road-side, before which several men 
 and boys have stopped, as if to read their inscriptions. 
 
 A small apartment was found in a private house at 
 Pompeii, which is supposed to have been devoted to 
 religious worship, and its walls were removed hither, 
 covered as they were with painted serpents, and many 
 inexplicable things. In the next room is a picture of 
 a private apartment, wliho, glass window opened, which 
 looks into a small yard, where a Corinthian colonnade 
 is thrown into beautiful perspective : as if to prove, in 
 the most satisfactory manner, that many assertions con- 
 cerning the ignorance of the ancients are unfounded. 
 
 On the walls of some buildings in Pompeii, which 
 are by some supposed to have been barracks, were 
 found a great number of inscriptions apparently in red 
 and black chalk, which have often been taken for the 
 scribbled jests of soldiers. The characters are so 
 antique, that 1 could hardly make out a single word: 
 but the old man, who is familiar with them, declared 
 they were almost all names. Here is, however, an 
 advertisement of nine hundred shops to let for five 
 years, by a woman named Julia Felix. 
 
 We were afterward shown a very melancholy sight : 
 the skull and arm-bone of Diomedes' wife, taken from 
 the great cellar near Pompeii, together with a lump 
 
NAPLES— PORTICI. 1 25 
 
 of indurated ashes, bearing the impression of her 
 breast, and part of the arm about the elbow, made 
 while the form was perfect. 
 
 After the highly interesting subjects in which my 
 mind has been lost for two or three days, I deem it 
 little better than trifling to descend to the king of Na- 
 ples, and the royal palace of Portici itself On apply- 
 ing for admission, a servant took the keys and led us 
 through a long succession of apartments, which he 
 designated as halls, chambers of pages, audience- 
 rooms, guard-chambers, private parlours, dining-rooms, 
 bed-chambers, libraries ; besides the apartments for 
 princes and princesses, the servants' rooms, &c. &:c. 
 Many silken hangings and curtains it was here our 
 lot to see, together with beautiful pictures, tables 
 made of costly stones, inlaid in the richest manner, 
 splendid furniture, and sometimes walls composed en- 
 tirely of coloured marbles : but, to our plain mindsy 
 there seemed little comfort in tiled floors without car- 
 pets, and little refined taste in the king's young wife, 
 in whose library I observed, among other English 
 books, "Tom Jones," and •' Uncle Thomas." 
 
 The view from many of the windows is, however, 
 delightful ; and the garden is extensive and remarka- 
 bly fine, being, at this season, so shaded by cypresses, 
 oranges, and other evergreens, as to put winter quite 
 out of memory. My friends visited also " La Favo- 
 rita," another palace of the king, and describe it as 
 very beautiful. 
 
 When, at the approach of evening, we at length re- 
 turned into the street, we were surrounded by fifteen 
 or twenty of the most impertinent fellows, pressing us 
 to hire their carriages, and driving their horses across 
 our path. Each seemed to claim a sort of property 
 in us : and when we refused to agree to their exorbi- 
 
1 26 NAPLES.— POZZUOLL 
 
 tant demands, they scr(?amed around us like maniacs^ 
 and made such a noise, that the inhabitants of Portici 
 threw open their old-fashioned windows, and heads 
 oddly decorated looked down from the sixth or seventh 
 story, as from a cloud. 
 
 NvPLEs. — Jan, 24. We set out this morning be- 
 times, and entered the grotto of PozzuoH, the length 
 of which is about two-thirds of a mile, and its 
 antiquity unknown. Some antiquaries suppose it to 
 have been made by the Cumseans : others believe it 
 was at first only a quarry for building-stone. From 
 the marks of wheels still seen in the walls, twenty 
 feet from the present floor, it is reasonably sup- 
 posed to have been at first of much smaller dimen- 
 sions. Lamps are hung from the roof and lighted 
 in the evening, and for the day-time, a communica- 
 tion is opened with the upper air, by two slanting 
 shafts near the middle. It is however a gloomy ride 
 at best ; and we were well pleased to reach the end, 
 and descend upon the valley of Bagnuoli, which is 
 covered with a forest of tall trees, from which vines 
 are stretched in festoons from limb to limb. To- 
 ward the west this valley opens upon the water ; and. 
 here we suddenly caught a view of the island of Nisita,. 
 and our late neighbours, the Greek vessels, lying in ai 
 hopeless and cheerless quarantine. ':> 
 
 A ride of two miles along the shore, brought us tq» 
 the gate of Pozzuoli, where several men and boys 
 made their appearance, and offered not only to instruct 
 us in the curiosities of their own town, but to lead us 
 to the lake of Avernus. the city of Cumae, and the 
 whole coast of Baiae. Their appearance formed the 
 most ludicrous contrast with their pretensions : for 
 while they ran over the names of ancient cities, 
 Roman heroes, and the sacred retreats of divinities, 
 
NAPLES—POZZUOLI. j 27 
 
 with almost a sacrilegious familiarity, they trotted by 
 our side in the dust, some with torn jackets, some 
 with half a shoe, and some with none at all. One, 
 more forward than the rest, actually leaped up be- 
 hind the carriage, to sing his own praises with more 
 effect in our very ears ; and when driven down, 
 outstripped his ragged companions, followed us hard 
 a full mile, and, when we dismounted, was among us 
 again like a familiar spirit. 
 
 Our coming excited a general buzzing among 
 scores of beggars, who seemed to have been lying 
 in wait for exactly such a party as ours, and forth- 
 with surrounded us, offering their petitions, in such 
 a variety of voices and tongues, that not one of them 
 could be understood : " Date mi qualche cosa, 
 signore," repeated over and over, till we could scarce 
 recollect where we were, or what they wanted. If 
 we separated, each was attended by a swarm of his 
 own, from which there seemed to be no escape ; and 
 \[ we met again, their combined noise quite drowned 
 our voices, and broke up the consultation we had 
 intended to hold at this place, concerning the best 
 plan for our future route. 
 
 We were in a large square, and had alighted beside 
 a piece of sculptured marble in the middle of it, 
 which is supposed to be a monument erected in Pu- 
 teoli, to the Emperor Tiberius, by fourteen cities of 
 Asia Minor. It bears emblems of those cities, w^ith 
 their names written below, and is too valuable an 
 antique to be exposed in a public place; though to 
 do the Pozzuolites justice, they seem to respect it as 
 it deserves, as well as a Roman statue at a little dis- 
 tance from it. 
 
 But we had already remained on this spot quite long 
 enough, for neither threats nor entreaties availed to 
 
] 28 NAPLES.— POZZUOLr. 
 
 deliver us from would-be guides and real beggars ; 
 and taking to our heels, we ran down a neighbouring 
 street, followed by the rabble in full chase. The same 
 persevering cicerone before mentioned still kept at our 
 elbow. "What do you want.^^" we inquired angrily, 
 " Gentlemen," he replied, in very good English, with a 
 shrewd smile, and his hat in hand, " I want to rid 
 you of these troublesome fellows. I am a cicerone ; 
 and, if you will trust yourselves to my direction, you 
 will make the tour of the various interesting scenes in 
 this neighbourhood in the shortest time possible, and 
 with the least fatigue. My father was a cicerone 
 before me, and instructed me in all the knowledge he 
 was possessed of" So saying, he drew from his 
 pocket a book full of recommendations, from travel- 
 lers of many nations, who had all been signally bene- 
 fitted by the profound literature of Pietro Rocca. 
 But the rabble were now coming up ; so, hastily 
 accepting him as a guide, we desired him to lead our 
 retreat. This checked the ragged mob; and Pietro, 
 with a short speech in the dialect of Pozzuoli, which 
 Mattia had before taught us to regard as perfectly 
 ridiculous, sent them all back the way they came. 
 
 We had now time to look about us. We were on a 
 smooth modern quay on the north side of the town, 
 and under the shadow of a range of tall and deserted 
 store-houses. The remains of the ancient mole lay 
 further south, like a row of black rocksjust above the 
 surface, but not visible from this place ; and the har- 
 bour, which it has long since ceased to protect, con- 
 tained only two or three fishing-boats. The beach, 
 running about a mile to the north, made a bold sweep 
 to the fool of Monte Nuovo, a hill several hundred 
 feet high, which was thrown out in one night by a vol- 
 cano, from the bowels of the earth. On the opposite 
 
 1 
 
l^fAPLES.— POZZUOLI. 329 
 
 side was the harbour of Baia, with the modern town 
 on a hill just below it, and the remaining part of the 
 cape ending two or three miles down, at a bluff which 
 still bears the name of Misenus, the friend of ^Eneas. 
 Among a thousand other interesting incidents, which the 
 scene is calculated to recall to the memory, there is 
 none more splendid than that which is said to have been 
 exhibited by Caligula, the narration of which was still 
 fresh in mind as recorded by that downright historian 
 Suetonius, or, shall I say.it? his still more downright 
 translator John Clark. The story was indeed ques- 
 tioned, even when the lives of the Twelve Caesars 
 were written : but the historian quotes his grandfa- 
 ther, whose authority we are bound to treat with 
 respect on his account. From the end of the mole, he 
 tells us, ships of burthen were drawn up and moored 
 in a line, which reached to Baise, a distance of 3f 
 Roman miles, and covered with earth so as to resemble 
 the Appian Way, over which the emperor passed 
 and repassed for two days, in a triumphant manner. 
 The first day he went on horseback, with a crown 
 of oak leaves, dressed in cloth of gold, and armed 
 with a shield, sword and battle-axe. The next day 
 he drove a chariot, drawn by two celebrated horses, 
 and attended by a young Parthian hostage named 
 Darius, and some of his friends mounted in British 
 chariots. According to the account given by the 
 grandfather of Suetonius, this was done in conse- 
 quence of an astrologer having declared, that Cali- 
 gula would no more be emperor, than he would ride 
 over the bay of Baise on horseback. 
 
 But this scene, with all its magnificence, was far 
 removed into oblivion, when we recollected " a certain 
 ship of Alexandria, whose sign was Castor and 
 Pollux," that once entered this port, and brought 
 
 17 
 
130 NAPLES— BAIA. 
 
 as a prisoner the great apostle of the Gentiles. Here 
 he remained seven days, among a company of believers 
 whom he found, in a city where Serapis and Diana 
 were worshipped, and where afterwards Augustus was 
 added to the number of the gods. This soil was 
 trodden by Paul, while acting under the command of 
 the vision that said, " Thou must bear witness also at 
 Rome." 
 
 When we had determined to make the travellers' 
 tour by land, instead of taking a boat to Baia, and 
 walking over the neighbouring country, Pietro dis- 
 patched a man for three donkies, and then led us to 
 the temple of Jupiter Serapis, where, on an oblong 
 piece of ground, 140 feet long, and 120 wide, English 
 measure, (like all future dimensions in this journal,) 
 were three granite columns standing, and several 
 lying at their feet, still highly polished, and about five 
 feet in thickness. The friezes also are rich " beyond 
 compare," and their minutest flowers and beads are ae 
 smooth as pearls. 
 
 In the baths, we observed sculptured dolphins ; and 
 some of the basins are still in good order, supplied 
 by a spring of warm, sulphureous water, and used 
 for bathing. 
 
 Three miserable donkies were waiting for us when 
 we left these magnificent ruins ; though we at fir^t 
 refused to take them on the score of humanity, when wfei 
 saw how they had been galled and ill-treated by their 
 inhuman masters, we soon found that no better could be 
 obtained ; and, having arranged the knotted harnesses 
 as humanely as possible, we at length mounted and 
 set off. One of the poor animals however stumbled 
 and fell over the first stone, the rider being thrown 
 into the dust as far forward as the stirrups would per- 
 mit, and both lay as dead ; but it happened for- 
 
NAPLES.— BAIA. J3|^ 
 
 tunately that neither man nor beast received any 
 injury, though they looked raore like a miller the rest 
 of the day. 
 
 A lonely ride of about two miles, over a sandy 
 beach partly shaded with bushes, brought us to Monte 
 Nuovo, when w^e turned to the right, and followed 
 along at its foot, till at length we began to ascend an 
 adjoining hill. From the top, we caught through a 
 chasm, a glimpse of a dark pond, about a mile in 
 circumference, surrounded by high, steep banks, 
 which had an air of desertion and seclusion decidedly 
 melancholy. It was the lake of Avernus : and no 
 traveller perhaps ever saw it break thus suddenly 
 upon him, and heard the guide pronounce its name, 
 without a thrill of pleasure. Beyond, the road lay on 
 the top of the bank, on the north side ; and a little 
 mound near at hand commanded at one glance a view 
 of the whole. A few scattering trees opposite, stand- 
 ing in a gap of the hills, are called the remains of the 
 Groves of Trivia ; the mouth of a cave among them 
 is said to be the entrance to the infernal world, 
 through which ^neas was conducted by the Cumaean 
 Sybil ; and a ruin on the left, which rises from the 
 margin of the water, is called the Temple of Apollo. 
 
 In the sand-banks by the road, were the broken parts 
 of an acqueduct, built perhaps by Nero, while that 
 mad fit was on him, which induced him to attempt 
 to bring water from BaiaB to Rome. They are built of 
 brick, shaped like narrow drains, and large enough for 
 a man to walk through them, by stooping a little : but 
 the surface has been so much raised by ashes from the 
 volcano, that the acqueduct is buried beneath the 
 soil. 
 
 A mile or two beyond, are the ruins of Cumae, 
 a city founded by a colony from Euboea, and the 
 
J 32 3NAPLES.— BAIA. 
 
 most ancient settlement on this coast. The gate, 
 which is called the Arco Felice, is the largest ruin we 
 have seen ; the arched passage being about thirty feet 
 wide, and Mty high, and the whole structure about 
 eighty feet to the top. It is built of broad and thin 
 bricks, and pierced with two holes, which may 
 have given room for acqueducts. Its broken summit 
 is overgrown with green bushes, and commands a 
 very extensive view toward the west, of the Mediter- 
 ranean and the distant island of Ponza. The retire- 
 ment of the place partook not a little of solemnity; 
 for my companions having passed, there was no sound 
 except the voice of a shepherd boy, singing at a dis- 
 tance, and the rustling of lizards among the dry 
 leaves. A trampling was afterwards heard, and an 
 exclamation in broad English of "There's the Arco 
 Felice ! What a d — n fine ruin !" and two English 
 sparks passed by on the gallop. 
 
 The road which passes under this noble arch, once 
 led into Cumae, but now is a mere mule-path to the 
 vineyards by which its ruins are covered : for Cumae 
 is as completely enveloped by the ashes of Monte 
 Nuovo, as Pompeii by those of Vesuvius. But an im- 
 portant difference is to be kept in view ; Pompeii was 
 overwhelmed while it was a crowded city, but Cumae 
 lay a heap of ruins for centuries. We readily acce- 
 ded to the proposition of our guide to diverge a little 
 to the right, in order to call at a solitary farm-house ; 
 and there regaled ourselves with some excellent white 
 wine, resembling the best cider, which was drawn from 
 one of a huge pile of casks, and afforded at a very 
 moderate price. Beneath us, all this time, lay a whole 
 city in ruins ; nothing appeared to betray it, except 
 along the path, where old houses were frequently seen 
 peeping from broken banks ; and, for the distance of 
 

 
 
NAPLES— BAIA. 233 
 
 a mile, the ground is half paved with old walls, fre- 
 quently worn down a foot or two by the passage of 
 mules. 
 
 Here are the remains of what is called the Giant's 
 Temple ; and the amphitheatre, a little farther on, re- 
 tains nothing of its ancient appearance, except its form: 
 the arena being covered with old olive trees. 
 
 Having passed Virgil's lonely lake Acheron, we 
 turned east, and soon came to the top of a hill, look- 
 ing down upon the bay and the town of Pozzuoli, 
 Nisita, and many distant points of the coast. A steep 
 and broken path before us, descended to the shore of 
 a beautiful arching bay, shut in by hills, in the form 
 of a horse-shoe. The surface was every where une- 
 ven, and in some places were green olive trees, stand- 
 ing on small terraces. Indeed a great part of the 
 ground seemed, at first view, to have been cut in this 
 manner for cultivation: but a little attention proved 
 that the appearance was owing to the walls of build- 
 ings, now many centuries in ruins, filled up by the 
 washing of rains, and the ashes from Monte Nuovo, 
 which furnished the fine theatre of sloping hills, with 
 numerous broken tiers, like the remains of seats for 
 spectators. 
 
 This was the scite of Baiae, and these were the re- 
 mains of the baths, villas, palaces, and temples, with 
 which it was rather crowded than ornamented. But 
 the elements have made such havoc here in the course 
 of ages, that there exists not a single ruin with an un- 
 disputed name ; and not more than five or six whose 
 character can be even conjectured. Near the foot of 
 the hill, on the left, is a Temple of Mercury, consist- 
 ing of a circular room with a vaulted roof The walls 
 are bare, but well preserved ; and a low whisper may 
 be heard by a person on the opposite side, at the 
 
134 
 
 NAPLES.— BAIA. 
 
 distance of forty steps. Near the shore is a Temple 
 of Venus, connected with a range of ruinous baths ; 
 and at a short distance Pietro made us stop again, at 
 a dark hole overgrown with weeds, which leads into 
 several chambers, with gilded walls, supposed to 
 be the tomb of Agrippina, wife of Germanicus, and 
 mother of Nero, whom he poisoned, and afterwards 
 buried with much pomp. There were but three or 
 four dwellings to be seen among the heaps of ruins 
 around us; and they were small and comfortless, 
 though built of stone, and tolerably white without; so 
 that the twenty-seven wretches we now counted press- 
 ing round us, clamourous for alms and offering antiques 
 for sale, must have formed nearly the whole present 
 population of a place, where half the emperors of 
 Rome, and many of her most wealthy citizens, once 
 built their favourite villas and palaces. The scene 
 has changed, indeed, since this spot was the centre of 
 all that was attractive in this delightful vicinity; since 
 acqueducts brought the water of many distant springs 
 for the supply of its baths ; the fertile Campagna yielded 
 the richest fruits and wines for its inhabitants ; and par- 
 ticularly when, on some part of these deserted hills, 
 stood the villas of Mecsenas, and Augustus, the resort 
 of Horace, Virgil, and their contemporary wits and 
 poets. Virgil, could he see this coast in its present 
 state, would find it reduced nearly to the desertion of 
 the times of his iEneas ; and Horace would discover 
 little of that luxury which once provoked his satire. 
 The long piers which were run out far into the har- 
 bour, to furnish room for new buildings, after all the 
 land had been occupied, have now disappeared ; for 
 the earthquakes have long since destroyed them all, 
 and filled up the port with their ruins; and, as we 
 walked along the beach, the sand was full of broken 
 
NAPLES.— BAIA. I35 
 
 bricks, white and coloured marbles, verde-antique, 
 and fragments of red earthen jars, rolled together and 
 thrown up in ridges by the waves Here are some- 
 times found gems of some value ; usually small carne- 
 lians, engraved with various figures, an art in which 
 the ancients are quite unrivalled. Most of them were 
 probably for rings, and all of them are well calculated 
 to take the fancy of any one, who possesses the least 
 degree of the spirit of an antiquary : but they are so 
 well counterfeited in glass by the Neapohtans, that 
 hundreds of spurious ones are probably carried away 
 every year, by travellers who have the credulity to 
 trust the asseverations and oaths of the wretches now 
 inhabiting these shores. 
 
 On the high point which bounds the harbour on the 
 south, is situated the modern Baiae, a miserable vil- 
 lage fortified with a small castle ; and, for two or three 
 miles beyond, we rode on high land, and enjoyed an 
 extensive view, over a large part of the Bay of Na- 
 ples, including some of the islands and Vesuvius, in- 
 terrupted only by one or two villages beyond. Here 
 the houses, though often tall, and substantially built 
 of stone, were extremely old, and looked comfortless 
 within ; while the streets were so narrow and broken 
 that we were usually forced to proceed in a single line, 
 and half the inhabitants instinctively muttered, " qual- 
 che cosa signor," and stretched out their hands, as 
 soon as they saw us coming. The women w^ere almost 
 all engaged in spinning, and that in the ancient fashion, 
 without the music of a wheel, twirling a heavy spindle 
 with the right hand, while they drew the flax with the 
 left, from a reed fastened at the waist. 
 
 Extreme poverty is no less evident in the dress of 
 these people, than mental degradation in their fea- 
 tures; and while they receive from the soil they cuUi- 
 
136 NAPLES.— BAI A. 
 
 vate, the scanty share allowed them by gnping land- 
 lords, they gaze like idiots on the magnificent sce- 
 nery, once familiar and delightful to the eyes of the 
 greatest Romans, and stumble among the ruins of their 
 habitations, which they regard only as they encumber 
 the ground. 
 
 As we passed through Bauli, the streets were almost 
 paved with the buried walls of the ancient city of 
 Baulis, over which the surface has been raised, as 
 over Raise, and Cumae, and probably in the same 
 manner. When we had passed the modern town, the 
 ruins often interrupted the wheat fields, and vine- 
 yards ; and Pietro frequently warned us against leav- 
 ing the foot-path for a moment, lest we should fall into 
 dangerous holes among the weeds, with which the 
 heaps of stones are often overgrown. 
 
 The southern point of the promontory, at the head 
 of which stands the scite of Cumae, is a bluff still 
 called after the name of Misenus, the pilot of iEneas's 
 fleet ; and just this side of it is the Dead Sea, a pond, 
 probably a mile in circumference, defended from the 
 ancient naval port of Misenum on the left, and on the 
 right from the channel through which w6 entered the 
 bay of Naples, by low beaches of smooth sand; and 
 seems to have been admirably calculated for an inner 
 port to that of Misenum, with which it was con- 
 nected by a canal made by Julius Caesar, now entirely 
 filled up. 
 
 The day was now fast wasting; and we found it 
 necessary to return towards Naples, which was many 
 miles distant. We were obliged, therefore, to content 
 ourselves with a distant view of the ruins of ancient 
 Misenum, a town beyond the Dead Sea ; with the 
 small but populous island of Procida, and the steep 
 mountains of Ischia. 
 
NAPLES.—BAIA. I37 
 
 By a narrow and devious path, which turned off to 
 the right, we reached the Hundred Chambers, or the 
 prison of Nero, and were conducted by candle-light, 
 down a winding stair-case of hewn stone. Here we 
 found a great number of small apartments, in excellent 
 preservation, and were particularly struck, on arriving 
 at the end of a passage, to find four small cells, which 
 met at such a narrow door that a single man, standing 
 between them, completely guards, or rather blocks up 
 the access of them all. In another place there 
 remains a ring-bolt, from which time indeed has long 
 since freed the prisoner; but the sight is enough 
 to awaken anew the strongest detestation of the 
 tyrant. 
 
 We returned through Baia ; and following the 
 beach, climbed the opposite hill, from which the 
 retrospect was very fine. But Pietro besought us to 
 hasten forward, and not linger at the ruins of Caesar's 
 palace, for a row of loaded mules had been seen 
 coming round the head of the bay, and must now be 
 near the entrance of the grotto of Baia, which pene- 
 trates the hill just beyond the place where we were. 
 This grotto is made much like that of Posilipo, and 
 probably of still greater antiquity. It is about a 
 quarter of a mile long, and arched above; yet, though 
 about twenty feet wide, is so much filled up with rub- 
 bish that only one mule can pass at a time. Pietro 
 screamed therefore as he hurried on our wretched 
 animals ; and when we emerged from the darkness of 
 the grotto, we found the muleteers waiting for us, 
 together with an old crouching man, who offered to 
 conduct us to the Vapour Baths of Nero, pointing at 
 another dark hole in the hill. 
 
 A steep descent brought us to a narrow stripe o( 
 low ground, which divides the bay of Pozzuoli on the 
 
 18 
 
138 NAPLES.—BAIA. 
 
 right, from lake Acheron, on the left. Following the 
 bend of this lake for three quarters of a mile, and then 
 winding along a blind path through overgrown fields, 
 we reached the side of a hill, which sloped to the 
 shore of lake Avernus. Three ragged men made 
 their appearance, at the mouth of a gloomy passage 
 overgrown with bushes; and while they were light- 
 ing torches, the length of which threatened us a 
 tedious subterranean journey, we had a little time to 
 look around, and see what changes had taken place 
 here since the days of Mneas. There are a few old 
 trees scattered about, which are called the Groves of 
 Trivia, the Temple of Apollo is in ruins opposite; and 
 the lake has lost all its ancient gloom. There are 
 several apartments belonging to the Sybil's Grotto, as 
 the cavern is called : but their floors are covered with 
 water, and we were carried through them on the backs 
 of the guides, while Pietro hastened them on, with 
 such screams as are used in this country in driving 
 mules and horses. Here are the remains of gilded 
 ceilings, and a passage which pierces the hill, and opens 
 on lake Acheron : but we returned by the way we had 
 come, and reached again the shore of the bay, with- 
 out meeting a single person, (such is the solitude of 
 almost every interesting spot in this vicinity,) except 
 a few sailors, cutting bushes and making them into 
 fagots, under the direction of a midshipman, belong- 
 ing to a small British vessel, at anchor in the harbour 
 of Baia. , 
 
 The beach, as it swept round the head of the bay 
 of Pozzuoli, brought us to the base of Monte Nuovo, 
 and to the ruins of the mole, which once shut in the 
 Julian Port ; and a little beyond, we saw several 
 masses of ancient brick-work or masonry in the water. 
 Approaching Pozzuoli, we passed again the ruins of 
 
NAPLES.-BAIA, 139 
 
 Cicero's Villa ; for he had a villa at Puteoli as well as 
 Baiae and Pompeii. The margin of the water in front 
 of it is strewed with bricks and marbles ; and gems 
 are sometimes picked up by children playing in the 
 sand. 
 
 We passed through a part of Pozzuoli ; and, when 
 we had reached the fields, the surface was often 
 broken by ancient walls, shaken down by earth- 
 quakes, and buried by the ashes of Solfaterra, 
 now a smothered volcano a little way off. The 
 houses of the peasants, who cultivate the vine- 
 yards through which our path lay, are so old, as 
 hardly to be distinguished from those of Roman 
 dates, except by the fact that they are built above 
 them : for the door-posts are sometimes half cut away 
 by time, and wherever utensils or furniture are usually 
 placed, the stone wall is often worn in, to the depth 
 of several inches. The dress of the inhabitants too 
 was whole ages out of date, and so quaint that it bor- 
 dered on the ridiculous : yet it is evident, from what 
 we saw in passing, that contentment may be found 
 among the ruins of palaces, and that even the Poz- 
 zuoli dialect is, to a native, an intelligible and very use- 
 ful language. 
 
 The remains of the amphitheatre are in a large 
 field ; and prove the structure to have been second in 
 size only, to that of Titus in Rome. In point of anti- 
 quity, it has even the advantage over that by some 
 years ; and possesses a still farther interest, from the 
 fact, that in it was martyred one of the early Chris- 
 tians, since adopted as the patron saint of Naples, 
 St. Januarius. The arena, where he was first exposed, 
 unhurt, to wild beasts, is now covered with vines and 
 trees. 
 
 A short walk through the fields, brought us to the 
 place where an ancient tomb has been lately disco- 
 
1 40 NAPLES.— POZZUOLI. 
 
 vered. A vine-dresser, who accompanied us to the 
 spot, was at work in the fields, some time in the year 
 1817, when the ground suddenly gave way under him, 
 and he fell down, twelve or fifteen feet, upon the floor 
 of a small square room. The sides were furnished 
 with niches, in which were placed four white marble 
 sarcophagi, or coffins, richly ornamented with reliefs 
 and recumbent statues. One of these coffins has 
 been sold and removed to the palace of the studii, at 
 Naples; the others still keep their places, and even 
 contain small quantities of human ashes and bones. 
 Every thing speaks of a wealthy owner. The niches 
 were covered with Mosaic, and one of them bears the 
 picture of a galley of three banks of oars/ made in 
 white and gilded marble. 
 
 "Nothing found here belonged, of right, to the dis- 
 coverer," said Pietro, with a knowing look, " and there- 
 fore Vicenzo took care to find nothing worth having.'^ 
 This was spoken in English : then turning, he said in 
 Italian, "The gentlemen inquire whether you found 
 any thing of more value than these ashes." " Nothing,'* 
 said he, with an air of affected sincerity, only half 
 supported. " Nothing," repeated Pietro in English, 
 with a Neapolitan shrug: "yet he carried four hun- 
 dred dollars worth of coins the next day to Naples, 
 beside a quantity of such stones as these, and has 
 been contented ever since." The stones he showed us 
 were small, and bore the profiles of men and women. 
 They were found in great numbers, and most of them 
 were alike. 
 
 It is impossible to tread on a soil like this, without 
 wishing it might be inhabited by men of intelligence, 
 or at least of more curiosity and activity, who would 
 not rest till they had brought to light the treasures 
 with which it teems, and ransacked old Puteoli to her 
 foundations. 
 
NAPLES.— POZZUOLL j 4 j 
 
 Near a mile farther on, is a Franciscan convent; 
 «ind on our way thitber we walked for a few minutes 
 on the Consular Way, which is here laid bare by the 
 washing of the rain against a hill-side. That road 
 formerly extended from Pompeii to Baiae, and proba- 
 bly this is a part of it, though it is almost every where 
 else destroyed, or concealed under the surface. During 
 our walk, Pietro amused us with a story of his spend- 
 ing two years in a British transport, merely to learn 
 English, to fit him better for his business; and with his 
 complaints against the emperor of Austria, for threat- 
 ening the country with an invasion, and thus injuring 
 the business of an honest cicerone. He gave us a 
 description too, of the twenty monks who inhabit the 
 convent during the wirjter; the only season when it 
 is safe from the unhealthy atmosphere, which at other 
 times infects the neighbourhood. "They have heads 
 the same as a bullock," said he, " for the best bread 
 is for the monks, the fattest mutton is for the monks, 
 the best wine is for the monks. Go there any day 
 after dinner, and you will find them all asleep. They 
 have nothing to do; they live better than any body 
 else, and do a thousand things which they would call 
 great sins in me. They pretend to be poor, and go 
 into Naples to beg for the convent; but nine times 
 out of ten the poor Franciscan will stop on his way 
 home, and leave the alms he has received in a shop." 
 
 Oil reaching the convent walls, we found reason to 
 believe some part of this shrewd fellow's statement: 
 for two donkies came up loaded with casks, from which 
 the red wine was dripping; and we were forced to 
 knock loud and repeatedly, before we could gain admis- 
 sion. A tall, broad-shouldered young man at last ap- 
 peared, in a coarse brown frock, with his cowl thrown 
 back, leaving his shorn head uncovered. "Brother 
 
142 
 
 NAPLES. 
 
 Giacomo," said our guide, with much familiarity, "I 
 hope we have not disturbed the whole convent: but 
 reallj you slept so much more soundly than usual, 
 that I thought you were all dead." Brother Giacomo 
 smiled, and led us to the cells, which are ranged about 
 a small court, and certainly appeared comfortless 
 enough. Pietro looked incredulous, and assumed a 
 corresponding tone of irony. " Brother," said he, "you 
 are too austere. Take care of yourself; too much 
 abstinence sometimes may be worse than a little indul- 
 gence. Your flesh is wasting away, and here you are 
 mortifying yourself in every possible manner ; and that 
 cord you wear about your waist — is it not a hard and 
 knotty thing to be whipped with?" 
 
 We were now in the chapel ; and surely, the altars 
 and the pictures were of no inconsiderable value, 
 while the half-worn inscriptions under foot, proved 
 that many persons had thought it worth their ambi- 
 tion, and probably their money, to be buried in this 
 holy place. The monk, with a slight attempt at an 
 expression of reverence, opened a case, in which was 
 a wretched picture of St. Januarius ; and then showed 
 the bloody stone on which he was beheaded. " How 
 old is that picture ?" inquired Pietro, at our instiga- 
 tion. "Dont you know? Is it four thousand years?" 
 " Yes," replied brother Giacomo, " at least that." 
 
 On returning to Pozzuoli, we were beset with chil- 
 dren offering us coins, and hastened through narrow j 
 streets, to the church of St. Proculus, where are seve- j 
 ral fine Corinthian columns built into a wall, which 
 are the remains of a temple erected to Augustus as 
 a god. I 
 
 We took a carriage after sun-set, to return to Naples, j 
 and met about fifty boys led in procession by a priest, S 
 
 who was their instructor. They were dressed in large 
 
NAPLES.— VIRGIL'S TOMB. ]43 
 
 cloaks, and three-cornered hats. According to Pietro, 
 who followed us out of the city to bid us farewell, all 
 schoolmasters are members of the priesthood. Our 
 coachman would not consent to go so late to the Dog's 
 Grotto, for fear of the bugbear of " robbers and Car- 
 bonari." 
 
 In about half an hour, we entered the long, dark 
 grotto of Posilipo, with a row of feeble lamps hung 
 along the roof; and a ride of two miles more after 
 night-fall, and an occasional glimpse of Vesuvius, with 
 spots of fire on her sides, brought us again to Naples. 
 
 As the country is, at this time, in great ferment, 
 military parades are frequent in the city, and the coffee 
 and dining houses are sometimes crowded with officers 
 and soldiers. They are almost without exception, noisy 
 and ill-bred, and have so disgusted us, that we hope 
 and care less and less for their success. What wretch- 
 ed republicans would be made of the Pozzuolites and 
 the Baians ! and the national guard, the yeomanry of 
 the kingdom, seem more like braggarts than patriots. 
 
 Naples. — January 28. We must suppose the clear 
 skies and pleasant weather, in which we have been so 
 long indulged, to be very near their close : and whether 
 we look at the usual character of the winter seasons 
 in this climate, or the long established system of this 
 world, our period of enjoyment must shortly be suc- 
 ceeded by a double share of clouds and storms, for 
 which we are already deeply in arrears. — Such were 
 our reflections this morning, as the early light began 
 to steal silently into our apartments : but the voices of 
 Neapolitan criers, from the narrow streets below, rung 
 so clear and shrill, as to dispel in a moment all our me- 
 lancholy forebodings, and yield a fair promise of ano- 
 ther delightful day. Some of our neighbours were soon 
 afterwards heard conversing with great liveliness, from 
 
144 NAPLES.— VIRGIL'S TOMB. 
 
 the little iron ballustrades with which the upper win- 
 dows are usually furnished ; and there was so much hila- 
 rity in their tones, and such mellowness in some of their 
 cadences, that they resemhied the notes of singing 
 birds, when they start away in a prolonged current of 
 unintelligible music, and then dwell upon the close, 
 and prolong the sweetest chord in their little octave. 
 When we had studied awhile the quaint device by 
 which our windows were secured, and had succeeded 
 in opening them inwards, from the ceiling to the 
 floor, the old women, girls, and children, who ap- 
 peared at almost every opening, together with the 
 antique structures they inhabited, presented a scene 
 foreign and singular, like some strange aviary, stuffed 
 with birds from some newly discovered couritry, and 
 many an uncouth combination of discordant colours 
 and forms. Here was a face all lined and interlined 
 with wrinkles, set off with gilt combs, sparkling gew- 
 gaws, and gaudy ribands ; and near by, and perhaps 
 in the act of paying to it the compliments of a de- 
 lightful morning, a smiling, dimpling girl of thirteen, 
 crowned with a cap of such a sad and antiquated 
 form, as would have done credit to an Egyptian 
 mummy. The hilarity of the morning seemed to have 
 every where diffused itself; for, on emerging from the 
 hotel, to seek breakfast in a neighbouring coffee house, 
 the coachmen were unusually urgent in the offer of 
 their services, taking it for granted that the " English- 
 men," as they call us, could not fail to be tempted inta 
 the country by such a morning; and crowded rounds 
 us with their importunate cries of '^ Andiam' a Poz*/ 
 zuol', a Baia, a Ercolan', a Pompeia — amdiam' sig* 
 no'!" 
 
 But our course had been determined in another 
 direction ; and consulting our books, we set off for the 
 
NAPLES.— VIRGIL'S TOMB. I45 
 
 tomb of Virgil. Among dark and narrow streets, we 
 wound our way, and passed through the long public 
 garden, while the drops of dew were yet on the cold 
 marble statues, which lined its then deserted walks. 
 The noble sculptured bull, which occupies a large 
 pedestal in the centre, frowned upon us as we passed; 
 while the muscular exertion expressed in the young 
 man who holds him forcibly by the horns, was admi- 
 rably contrasted with the passive terror of poor Dirce, 
 who lies at his feet, with her long tresses entangled in 
 the horns of the ferocious animal. The little temple 
 beyond, lately erected to receive a bust of Tasso, 
 and the view of the broad bay, which opened full upon 
 us when we began to tread the sweeping beach of 
 the Margellina, seemed to harmonize with the reflec- 
 tions which occupied our minds, as we gradually ap- 
 proached the object of our research; and even the 
 promptitude with which the little children came up 
 of their own accord, and offered to conduct us to " il 
 sepolcro di Virgilio," only proved beyond controversy 
 the permanency of a great name. 
 
 A long and steep zig-zag road soon afterwards ap- 
 peared, and conducted up the hill, with many a toil- 
 some winding. When our height permitted a view 
 beyond the neighbouring houses, the bay appeared 
 more and more extensive at every pause we made; 
 while, close at hand, the lofty precipices of hewn vol- 
 canic rock, and the vineyards and gardens with which 
 they were crowned, afforded many new and interest- 
 ing varieties, and called again to mind the picturesque 
 peculiarities of the country. 
 
 Every one has looked with pleasure on the striking 
 points of Italian landscapes, as detailed on the can- 
 vass ; but 1 apprehend it is usually with a monitory 
 whispering of doubt. Painters have forms and colours 
 
 19 
 
146 NAPLES.— VIRGIL'S TOMB. 
 
 submissive at their command, and are never bound to 
 follow nature when she contradicts the rules of har- 
 mony, or deviates from the line of grace ; and to their 
 invention are often attributed the riches of the scenery, 
 the languid postures and striking costumes of the 
 figures, the quaint caparisons of steeds, the myste-r 
 rious shades of the cavern, and the warm tints of the 
 surrounding landscape. But a slight attention to the 
 subject on the spot, is sufficient to convince us that, 
 in these respects, the artist may be a mere copyist : 
 nature has supplied him abundantly with models, and 
 among her works are to be sought the elements, or 
 rather the originals, of his designs. The peculiar 
 appearance of the lower class of the people has been 
 noticed before, as well their manners and their dress; 
 but the richest and most appropriate foregrounds are 
 afforded, in this vicinity, by the artificial forms of the 
 rocks, whose warm red and yellow volcanic tints light 
 up afresh at sun-rise and sun-set, and harmonize most 
 generously with the richest colours of the pallet. 
 However useless may now appear the vast labour 
 bestowed in chisselling them down to their present 
 forms, at some long past and unknown period, they 
 may serve to recall the time when these regions bore 
 many marks of Roman luxury ; when the magnificence 
 of Baiae and Puteoli overflowed the cities of Hercu- 
 laneum and Pompeii, and even reached the elevated 
 ranges of Parthenope or Pausilipus; when the villas 
 of the splendid were seen encircling the bay, and 
 Grecian columns stood in marshalled ranks along the 
 shore. There is now indeed no want of fair country- 
 houses on the neighbouring summits, nor of stately and 
 royal edifices on the distant promontories; and their 
 clear whiteness beautifijlly sets off the deep purplish 
 blue of the remoter mountains : but how sadly changed 
 
NAPLES— VIRGIL'S TOMB. ] 47 
 
 since ancient times! The stranger is at first filled 
 with regret at the comparison : but when he looks on 
 the distant shores, where cultivation and sterility as- 
 sume the same colour and appearance ; on the strongly 
 featured islands of Capri and Ischia, where all the 
 traces of man are entirely lost to view; on the still 
 more distant Appennines covered with a shroud of 
 snow; and then turns to Vesuvius, rolling out its 
 clouds of mysterious vapours ; he acknowledges that 
 there is a luxury inherent in the scene, which survives 
 untouched the common wastes of time, and far, far 
 transcends the utmost reach of art. 
 
 In the sight of these noble objects it was, that 
 Virgil chose to spend the latter years of his life ; here, 
 at his own desire, were deposited his ashes, and no one 
 I think can visit the place and not associate ever after- 
 wards his favourite residency with his memory, and 
 trace some of his admirable con ^eptions to this scene, 
 so adapted to lofty poetic meditation. Though 
 divested of its former adventitious decorations^ the 
 same picture is before us in its native grandeur, 
 and must doubtless add, in the mind of a scholar, 
 a new interest to many of his lines, by enforcing their 
 meaning and redoubling their effect. 
 
 We were admitted through a little door into a garden, 
 by a young man, who led us some distance through 
 long alleys, and under the shade of olive trees ; till 
 turning to the right, and descending a flight of stone 
 steps cut out of a great rock, we came to the very brow 
 of an artificial precipice, and found ourselves hanging 
 over the entrance of the dark grotto of Posilipo. A small 
 square tomb of stones and plaster stood beside us, over- 
 grown spontaneously with wild olive and myrtle, and 
 sprinkled with a few flowers. In one of its niches, is 
 said to have been deposited the cinerary urn of Virgil, 
 
X48 NAPLES—VIRGIL'S TOMB. 
 
 although one account declares that his remains were 
 placed, at his own request, under one of the stones of 
 the old Puteoli road below, in front of the inscription 
 affixed to the base of the precipice. The seclusion 
 of the spot where the tomb is placed, well corresponds 
 with the feelings which its history excites ; for nothing 
 was to be seen except the ragged yellow cliffs around, 
 fantastically ornamented with the streaming tresses of 
 pendant vines, and crowned with verdant shrubbery ; 
 while a rude colonnade through which the steps con- 
 ducted us, all cut in the living rock [" vivo saxo,"] 
 completed a scene in which the bard perhaps might 
 have learnt to say, what now a stranger might repeat 
 for the bard : 
 
 " Ite capellae : 
 
 " Nonego vos posthar viridi projectus in antro, 
 *' Dumosa pendere /ro,ml de rape videbo." 
 '* Carmina nulla canam." 
 
 [Leave me, my herd ! No more shall I lie in my shady cavern, and see 
 you hanging- from the distant mossy rock — I shall sing" my song-s no more.] 
 
 Returning by the way we had come, the broad bay 
 of Naples opened once more to view, with its noble 
 expansion of water, thirty miles across — ranges of 
 mountains for its shores, and Vesuvius for its beacon. 
 Human power is too feeble, man is too diminutive, 
 either to improve or to mar its beauties. We may 
 indeed admire a neighbouring villa, or might perhaps 
 look out with more pleasure from a hanging-garden, 
 or a marble portico ; but cottages, palaces and towns 
 are diminished into mere spots at the foot of Vesuvius, 
 and grow more and more dim at each successive head- 
 land, until they are all entirely lost in the rich purple 
 hue of Capo Campanella. There the varieties of sur- 
 face are no more distinguishable ; and the richest coat 
 
NAPLES.~VIRGIL»S TOMB. 149 
 
 of verdure can boast no beauty over the most hopeless 
 sterility. The bold outlines of Ischia and Capri also, 
 only seem to enclose their portions of a deeper sky, 
 enveloping their villages and pastures, their olive 
 groves and rocky pinnacles, in one unvarying hue of 
 azure. In such a scene all human grandeur loses its 
 majesty; and all that art can do is but to speak its 
 own imbecility, and impress the mind with double awe, 
 at the overwhelming superiority of nature. 
 
 This was its effect when Virgil knew the scene; 
 and for this it was that it became his favourite retreat. 
 It presents to the mind a continual reference to a 
 superiour world: to a loftier, a purer state of being. 
 Like a face in which all the female virtues are dis- 
 played, as well as the corresponding traits of beauty ; 
 or like the sublime expression of a patriarch's fea- 
 tures, it directs the thoughts to a brighter realm, 
 where many a counterpart exists, and where those 
 laws of indescribable harmony prevail, whose benign 
 influence is never manifested on earth, save in the 
 production of such lovely and exalted forms, and those 
 corresponding sentiments and qualities of the heart, 
 with which the mind considers them naturally con- 
 nected. Such a poet as Virgil could never have been 
 insensible to ideas of this description, while all around 
 him was proclaiming lofty things, so congenial to a 
 soul that delighted in far and daring flights ; and here it 
 was, our fancy tells us, while contemplating this scene, 
 that he exclaimed : 
 
 " Aspice convexo nutantem pondere mundum, 
 
 " Terras, jactusque maris, coelumque profundum : 
 " Aspice venture laetentur ut omnia ceclo." 
 
 [See how the sphere of this great earth is moved : The land, the sea, the 
 immeasurable sky — all thing-s exulting in the coming age.] 
 
J 50 NAPLES.— VIRGIL'S TOMB. 
 
 Truly the scene might seem to speak such language; 
 and who that beholds it can fail to think, that it con- 
 veys a hope more bright than all the rites and doc- 
 trines of the heathen : such conceptions as could 
 never have been drawn from the ancient mythology, 
 even by Virgil himself, unless at some moment when 
 he arrayed his gods in attributes far purer than their 
 own. How willing we are to indulge the suggestion, 
 that he spoke under the influence of a belief very 
 general about that time, that great though undefined 
 events were soon to be developed, far transcending in 
 importance the most splendid spectacles which the 
 world had ever witnessed. How do we regret that he 
 could not have lived to join in the admiration of those, 
 who witnessed the fulfilment of what he thus uncon- 
 sciously prophesied, and were admitted to the fruition 
 of what he so dimly and inadequately comprehended. 
 How do we lament that his age was passed, his ashes 
 deposited in the earth, before this period arrived : 
 that he was not permitted to await its approach ; and 
 while contemplating this his favourite scene, to descry 
 from afar the white sails of that ship of Alexandria, 
 which brought to yonder port one of the wonders of 
 that age he had longed to see — a mind no less noble 
 than his own, conversant with subjects above bis bold- 
 est conceptions, and actuated by motives which had put 
 to the blush the vaunted wisdom of Athens, and fitted 
 its possessor for a great and permanent example to the 
 human race. Could Virgil but have imbibed the sen- 
 timents and feelings of Saint Paul ! — how delightful 
 it is to reflect on what he must have become ; and to 
 trace, even in imagination, the range his soul would 
 have taken, when taught to glow with the spirit of 
 Christianity, and rapt in contemplating the glories of 
 the true God. But it was not to such as he, that the 
 
NAPLES— LAKE OF AGNANO. 151 
 
 changes of that remarkable period were designed to 
 reach: the humblest minds were destined to be the 
 most exalted, that things which were before esteemed 
 great might be compared with their proper standard ; 
 and how like the proudest structures of art scattered 
 over the scene before us, did they shrink, and fade, 
 and disappear, in the superior presence of truth and 
 genuine virtue. 
 
 Descending the hill, and returning by the splendid 
 church of Piede Grotta, as far as the grotto of Posi- 
 lipo, we passed along the valley of Bagnuoli, where we 
 overtook two little boys on their way home from 
 Naples. One of them had a round Neapolitan face, 
 with bright black eyes and red cheeks, and was 
 carrying a small bag of flour on his head. They 
 inquired if we were going to the Lago d'Agnan\ clip- 
 ping and drawling it according to custom, and offered 
 to conduct us thither. We did not need a guide, but 
 consented to take the little boy, on account of his 
 beauty and his manners, which were those of nature, 
 and of good nature too. He was a Neapolitan how- 
 ever in every particular, for he insisted on an 
 unreasonably large reward, and whers he found we 
 should otherwise leave him behind, consented to be 
 content with much less. Without betraying any dis- 
 position to smile at our broken language, he would 
 stop and ^x his fine eyes on us in serious attention, 
 till he reminded me of the picture of the young Apollo 
 learning music in the cabinet at Portici ; and would 
 stop, lay down his bag, and instinctively resort to a 
 thousand graceful and expressive signs, when we were 
 slow in comprehending his meaning. He told us he 
 lived near the shores of the lake, where his mother 
 was now expecting him and his bag of flour, to make 
 many sorts of good things for them to eat. Their 
 
152 NAPLES.— LAKE OF AGNANO. 
 
 drink was water and. some wine, which was red indeed, 
 but taken by him in such small quantities, that he did 
 not believe it was that which produced the colour in 
 his cheeks. He had taken up the business of cicerone, 
 I presume, for the first time; yet with much gravity he 
 began to throw out remarks on such things as we saw. 
 There was a remnant of something like a Roman 
 aqueduct on one side of the road, shaped like that 
 near the lake of Avernus, and built outside of small 
 square bricks, turned with one corner up, in the ancient 
 reticulated form. Of this he knew nothing — but point- 
 ing at a rough, heavy stone, which had fallen from the 
 high hill through which the path had been cut, de- 
 clared that was very antique. 
 
 The lake is about three miles in circumference, and 
 surrounded by high hills, which slope, like those of 
 Avernus, with the greatest regularity. The prince is 
 to make a fishing excursion there to-morrow, and 
 boats were brought there on carts. The peculiar 
 character of these lakes constantly reminds one of a 
 crater, and always inclines me to refer them to a vol- 
 canic origin. Two buildings are erected for the 
 extraction of sulphur from the soil ; and at the foot of 
 the hills are some Roman ruins, which, an old man 
 told us, are called the city of Nero. The Dog's 
 Grotto is close at hand. It is so called because a small 
 animal going in, is temporarily suffocated by a heavy 
 gas, which rises only afoot above the floor. 
 
 Our little friend was impatient to go home. "Here 
 is the Lago d'Agnan," said he, " and there is the grotto 
 del Can', and now you have seen all." He pointed 
 out his path, which followed the shore of the lake 
 nearly half way round. " There it goes," said he, 
 " across the turf near the water, and up the high 
 hill opposite. On the ridge of the hill, you see a 
 
NAPLES. /53 
 
 row of large trees. My home is just beyond. Will 
 you go with me, and see how it opens upon you ?" 
 We had no time, but sent him off' with a present which 
 made him happy ; so taking up his burthen, he left us 
 with a light heart, and hurried on to communicate the 
 news of his good fortune. 
 
 When we reached the great garden of Naples on 
 our return, it was thronged with people, collected to 
 witness a presentation of colours to the National 
 Guard, who were paraded along the Chiaia — a fine 
 broad street extending the whole length of it. Prince 
 Ferdinand, who has been left with the regency of the 
 kingdom during his father's absence, has entered 
 heartily into the revolution, and bears the title of 
 General of the Constitution. Soon after the declara- 
 tion of the constitution last summer, the National 
 Guard was raised for the defence of the country, and 
 is chiefly composed of exempts. All that part of it 
 raised in the city and neighbourhood, were now 
 paraded here, to the number of seven or eight thou- 
 sand ; and, after the colours had been received from 
 Prince Ferdinand, were reviewed by him and his bro- 
 ther Leopold, who both rode through the line with 
 their children and attendants. Leopold married a 
 daughter of the Emperor of Austria, who is now with 
 her father; and he is therefore considered an enemy to 
 the constitution. The soldiers however made no dis- 
 tinction between the two brothers, but received them 
 both with equal acclamations ; being stimulated to it 
 by men who ran behind the lines, a little in advance of 
 the procession, crying, viva ! viva ! in their ears. 
 
 The princes and their families went to the Royal 
 Palace, which is a monstrous structure with a high, 
 flat, tasteless front, and stood at a balcony while the 
 troops passed below. Notwithstanding the loquacity 
 
 20 
 
154 Naples. 
 
 of the soldiers in coffee-houses, we should have 
 expected to find them silent on such an occasion as 
 this : but many of them seemed to take little interest 
 in what thej were doing, and often a whole squadron 
 appeared to be in conversation. They were well 
 made men, and extremely well dressed, and their 
 mustachios, which they have been training ever since 
 the declaration of the constitution, gave a fierceness to 
 the expression of their features. 
 
 At sun-set the eating-houses, or trattorias, were 
 crowded with officers and soldiers, who became so 
 noisy that they were intolerable. It was even dif- 
 ficult to find a vacant table, as they often came with 
 whole families, ladies included. On all ordinary occa- 
 sions, these houses possess many accommodations; 
 You may be retired and even solitary, have a long bill 
 of fare to select your dinner from, and be furnished 
 with tolerable wine at eight cents a bottle. 
 
 But something less flattering must in justice be said 
 of the coffee-houses, where many of the citizens 
 resort in the morning. They are abundant in the 
 principal streets, but small, and open with large doors, 
 like the common shops here and in Pompeii. Not a 
 window is to be seen in a coffee-house, nor indeed is 
 any necessary. The floors are of stone, the tables small, 
 the company mixed, the rooms ill supplied with ser- 
 vants, and the servants with brooms. But this is not 
 all. Boys offer you the Gazette, or "A letter to the 
 Ministry," (for almost every body reads the news ;) 
 a pedler urges you to purchase a knife, a bright buckle 
 or a spotted handkerchief; shoe-blacks insist upon 
 brushing your boots, while you are drinking your 
 coffee ; a man sits next you who has come in merely 
 to get his own cleaned ; and, to crown all, a miserable 
 beggar, sick or deformed, ever and anon holds out his 
 
NAPLES. 155 
 
 hand or catches your eye, and with a pitiable look, a 
 serious manner and a low tone, implores you for a sin- 
 gle grain, or a bit of the bread your are eating. 
 
 When walking in the streets, we are singled out by 
 every beggar we meet as strangers, and are pursued 
 with his persevering petitions. Wherever they can 
 find a vacant spot in the street, where they may bask 
 in the sun, they collect by dozens, tw^enties, or fifties, 
 and exhibit the most disgusting groups of poverty that 
 can easily be imagined. The beggars of Naples are 
 called Lazzaroni, and are poor in the extreme. They 
 are idle ; but whether from necessity or choice I know 
 not. 
 
 Naples. — January 30. The Palace of Studies in 
 Naples is the depository of all the curiosities found in 
 Pompeii, with the exception of the paintings. Several 
 long halls on the first floor are devoted to hundreds of 
 statues, busts and vases, some of which are very fine, 
 though the rest are of no great excellence. Hercules 
 at rest, a colossal figure, occupies the most conspicuous 
 place : but one of the most striking is a wounded 
 Amazon, falling backwards from her horse. It is very 
 natural, and much admired by Canova. Above, is a 
 succession of large apartments, filled with shelves con- 
 taining tools and utensils of all sorts, and in the great- 
 est abundance. They are nearly all of bronze, as those 
 of iron were corroded and consumed by salts con- 
 tained in the ashes. Here are bells made of a flat 
 piece of metal, which were carried in coaches to be 
 struck on entering a narrow street ; cow-bells, made 
 like common modern ones, except that they are round ; 
 instruments found in the surgeon's house at Pompeii; 
 stirrups, and various sorts of nails, much like ours ; 
 play-tickets of ivory, in the shape of almonds, birds, 
 &;c. with the numbers of the passages leading to the 
 
156 NAPLES. 
 
 seats they belonged to ; a loaf of bread, quite black, 
 but retaining its form, being scalloped at the edges, 
 marked in quarters, and branded with the baker's 
 name. There are great numbers of lamps of grace- 
 ful, antique forms, made of clay or bronze, in some of 
 which the wicks, and a dry crust left by the oil, are 
 still found. There is a quantity of unground wheat, 
 which preserves the forms of the kernels, though it is 
 perfectly black, and converted to charcoal : not I 
 presume by heat, but by a slow decomposition, for the 
 ashes must have been cooled before they fell. I 
 observed a great number of scales, and even steel- 
 yards, made very much like ours. An oil-mill, found 
 in Pompeii, we were assured is of the same descrip- 
 tion with those now used in the neighbourhood. It 
 consists of a mortar, made of a block of lava four feet 
 high, and two hemispheres of the same revolving in it 
 on a wooden axis, part of which remains bound with 
 sheet-iron, which is fastened with small wrought nails. 
 Here are a great many earthen jars, some four or five 
 feet high, for grain, wine and oil ; and a large collec- 
 tion of Etruscan vases. Several apartments beyond 
 are devoted to suits of armour, altars, censers, house- 
 hold gods, and beautiful cameos and intaglios. 
 
 As we were leaving home this morning, we met 
 one of our friends going to our lodgings, with an 
 American gentleman just arrived from Rome. He 
 was in the dress of a diligent and industrious tra- 
 veller, stepped quick, and I thought had a hur- 
 ried expression in his eye and manner, as if his 
 journey were not quite finished. We inquired the 
 news. " I narrowly escaped falling into the hands of 
 the robbers at Terracina," said he, in a way that made 
 us start. " They came down from the mountains, night 
 before last, and took off fifteen or twenty boys from a 
 
JVAPLES.— CASERTA. 2 57 
 
 school. The school-master and a soldier were killed 
 in making resistance, and the country was in a state of 
 alarm. The courier made the postillion set the horses 
 into a gallop, as soon as he heard the news, and they 
 ran all the way to Fondi. There is very little plea- 
 sure in travelling that road, I assure you. You hardly 
 see a man in all that tract of country, who does not 
 look as if he were half an assassin." This intelli- 
 gence was not very encouraging, particularly when we 
 recollected that two Englishmen had lately been taken 
 by this same band of robbers, and liberated only in 
 consideration of a large sum of money. They had 
 
 released one of them with a draft from Lord 
 
 whom they detained, for 2000 napoleons ; and one of 
 our companions happened to be present the other day, 
 when it was presented and paid, at an English 
 banker's. We inquired what was the news from 
 Austria, and received for answer, that an army was on 
 the march against the kingdom of Naples, and that, on 
 this account, he was determined to return to Rome as 
 soon as possible, allowing only a little time for seeing 
 the curiosities in the neighbourhood. 
 
 Naples, January 31. The old king of Naples has 
 several palaces in the vicinity of the city, among 
 which he divides his time ; and with the aid of an 
 occasional fishing excursion on the Lucrine Lake, 
 and a boar hunt in his parks, contrives to pass his life 
 probably with as much enjoyment as he is capable of. 
 Rural retirement has been the favourite of great and 
 good men in all ages; and a taste for the chase has 
 always been considered a manly if not a humane 
 taste. But the king of Naples does not deserve the 
 credit of being fond of rural retirement, nor even of 
 possessing the spirit of a huntsman. He does nothing, 
 it is said, towards raising or pursuing his game — that is 
 
1 5g NAPLES.—CASERTA. 
 
 done by his attendants. Neither is he more fond of dan- 
 ger than of fatigue, for if the animal be a powerful one, 
 he chooses to await his approach in a place of safety, 
 and shoot him down with the bloody disposition of a 
 mere butcher. In the palace at Portici are shown 
 several pictures, in which he is represented in his 
 favourite employments ; and that of the boar-hunt 1 
 viewed with peculiar disgust, because it exhibits 
 decided proofs of a despicable disposition. Several 
 boars, which have been driven into a small stream, are 
 prevented from making their escape by a dam built 
 across it, while high aloft, perched in security on the 
 bridge above, " the king of the Two Sicilies" is seen 
 firing among them, as they swim about here and there 
 as harmlessly as so many tame swine. His Majesty's 
 smile says it is excellent sport ; but I could think of 
 nothing but the boar-hunt in Don Quixote, and of 
 Sancho Panza in the cork-tree. 
 
 I cannot allow to such a man as this, the soul to 
 enjoy the delightful country seats he possesses, which 
 1 believe owe their existence more to the common 
 custom of European princes, and a fondness of useless 
 expense. Considerations of this sort, however, need 
 not prevent us from enjoying a sight of the palace and 
 gardens of Caserta, particularly as the old king has 
 gone to the congress of Laybach, and is not likely 
 soon to return. Having taken our seats in a carozza, 
 or public carriage, early this morning, we therefore set 
 out, but were obliged to turn back and seek a new pas- 
 sage several times, on account of a great military 
 parade, as to-day the Constitutional Congress has 
 been prorogued. The appearance of the troops is 
 certainly much in their favour ; and if their spirit 
 only half equals the accoutrements and their profes- 
 sions, the new government is already insured. But 
 
NAPLES.— CASERTA, 2 59 
 
 ah ! a Neapolitan must make a different sort of free- 
 man from the men we are accustomed to call such. 
 
 Just outside of the gate we were accosted by a priest, 
 who rattled a small iron box in his hand with a few 
 copper coins in it, called grani, and solicited our 
 charity for the souls in purgatory. Men of the pro- 
 testant belief could hardly be expected to contribute 
 for such an object ; and therefore we did as we find 
 most cathohcs do, passed on without noticing the peti- 
 tioner. 
 
 Our road lay across the Campagna di Lavoro ; this 
 fertile and delightful plain, which, beginning at the 
 base of Vesuvius just where the descent of the moun- 
 tain gently subsides into a level, extends off* on three 
 sides to the nearest ridges of the Appennines, from 
 eight to fifteen miles distant. The ground was per- 
 fectly smooth, and principally covered with vineyards, 
 which, as the vines are trained on tall trees, are in 
 reality so many groves. There were, however, many 
 open fields devoted to various other crops, among 
 which I recognized wheat, beans, flax, and lupines, all 
 of a sufficient height, even at this early season, to form 
 a coat of the richest green. The lupines are raised 
 for cattle, and are the only food [ have seen the coach- 
 men give their horses. The inn-keepers in the vil- 
 lages sell them green, in small bundles, and they are 
 made to supply the place of oats. We met several 
 large droves of hogs going to market, all of them 
 black, without bristles, and of an uncommon size. 
 The sheep and the oxen were also very large, and the 
 latter of a beautiful light grey. 
 
 The whole appearance of the country intimated a 
 thorough system of husbandry : the fields were 
 defined with the utmost precision, and the crops were 
 uniform throughout, though they were not separated 
 
1 50 NAPLES— CASERTA. 
 
 either by hedge, wall or ditch. The sheep and pigSf 
 that were seen feeding in droves upon some of the 
 young crops, had evidently been bred with a direct 
 reference to this state of things ; for with the atten- 
 tion of only a man or a boy, they would proceed in a 
 compact body round or across the field, eating every 
 leaf and stem close to the ground, without infringing 
 upon the adjacent property, and thus clear the whole 
 with as much uniformity as a mower. This presented 
 a striking contrast indeed to the roaming habits of our 
 domestic animals, but had a little too much in it of the 
 old regime to please me exactly. I was a little surprised 
 to find that the shepherds here carry the same long 
 stick, headed at one end, which I have seen among the 
 Spaniards near Gibraltar. In several instances we saw 
 parties of peasantry, women as well as men, working 
 in the fields under the direction of overseers. They 
 used either hoes or small shovels with long handles, 
 and moved along in a line, with hardly any inclination 
 of the body, apparently labouring with scarcely any 
 fatigue and to very little purpose. The soil, as they 
 dug it up, was of a deep black, well corresponding 
 with its fertility ; yet in some places heaps of manure 
 were laid on the ground, and I judged from appear- 
 ances that some of the crops were raised only for the 
 purpose of enriching it. 
 
 Our view was often confined by extensive vineyards, 
 sometimes for several miles together. The trees are 
 of the natural form and size, and are made to support 
 large vines; which minghng their branches with one 
 another, at an equal height from the ground, make 
 regular festoons about twenty feet over head, and must 
 form in summer a complete roof of verdure, and the 
 most delightful shade. The trees are placed in rows 
 with such perfect regularity, that we could look 
 
KAPLES.—CASERTA. jg^ 
 
 through their numerous vistas for a mile or more on 
 either side, so that the novelty of the scene impressed 
 me with high ideas of the perfection and beauties of 
 Italian agriculture. 
 
 This tract of country formed part of the " Campa- 
 nia Felix" of the Romans, and to my eyes bears no 
 indications of having lost any of that fertility, which 
 in ancient times rendered it famous for the richness 
 and abundance of its productions. It was in a good 
 degree the luxuries supplied by this soil, which ren- 
 dered the bay of Naples the resort of the wealthy 
 Romans under the empire ; and I should be slow to 
 believe that the soil alone has degenerated. In 
 modern days it has been repeatedly sprinkled with 
 volcanic ashes from Mount Vesuvius : but this should 
 increase its fertility, for the best wine in the neigh- 
 bourhood is made on the mountain itself. No, it is the 
 inhabitants, or rather I should say the government 
 Under which they live, that have produced the change. 
 The labourers, apparently living under the full rigour 
 of the feudal and the pontifical systems combined, are 
 crowded together in little dirty villages, basely igno- 
 rant and humiliated, without the power and without 
 the disposition to improve : while the mellow and 
 luscious fruits of their toil are sent to the palace and 
 villa of the indolent and vicious landholder, or the 
 overflowing treasury of some church or convent — the 
 abodes of sloth and vacuity. What was exactly the 
 state of things here in the days of Old Rome, I have 
 no time to inquire : bad enough I know ; yet some 
 impulse existed then which now has failed, since the 
 products of the field are not purchased by foreign 
 wealth ; and the natural consequence of that change 
 acting with the present state of society, has converted 
 the Campania Felix into the Campagna di Lavoro. 
 
 21 
 
1 62 NAFLES.— C ASEKT A. 
 
 The villages through which we passed bore the 
 strongest marks of a poor and degraded population. 
 Some of them must contain 5 or 6000 people ; yet the 
 houses were low and small, and many of them, I will 
 venture to say, not built since the discovery of Ame- 
 rica. The windows showed vacant and dirty faces, 
 the doors ill-furnished rooms, and heavy stone walls 
 and floors deeply worn by the feet and hands of nume- 
 rous generations. Nothing like anew house, nor even 
 an improved or a repaired one was to be seen ; and I 
 made up my mind while passing on, that not one of the 
 men I saw looked capable of making a chair or a 
 window-shutter, or even of putting a new button on 
 his door. — The streets had once been paved, but the 
 stones generally lay loose in the dust, and did more 
 harm than good. Now and then we passed the high 
 walls of some forbidden ground, the premises of a 
 petty title-bearer, or the garden of some convent ; but 
 every thing was concealed except the tops of the 
 nearest trees, and nothing but the owners and the birds 
 could conjecture at what they contained. 
 
 It was an after-thought with me to draw a compari- 
 son between these villages and our American towns, 
 for there was nothing to make me think of it at the 
 time. The houses were as closely built as those of a 
 city, and the streets as narrow and uncomfortable. 
 There was no neat and tasteful mansion which miffht 
 be the residence of the lawyer, the physician or the 
 clergyman, and there was not a single brushed coat 
 or tidy gown in the street, to discountenance the 
 universal poverty and slovenliness. — There might be 
 a higher character hidden behind the walls of the 
 convent or of the petty palace, but the other inhabi- 
 tants are as much shut out from its intercourse as 
 from the sight of the gardens and grounds^ which 
 
NAPLES.— CASERT A. ] 53 
 
 in our country is equally participated by the rich 
 and the poor. 
 
 No one, indeed, can cast the most hasty glance 
 about him, without being convinced that the state of 
 society is entirely different from that among our- 
 selves, and so different as to make him doubt what 
 sort of change would ultimately prove most bene- 
 ficial to the country. The people are ignorant and 
 poor. Under the present (that is the late) state of 
 things, they will always remain so. Overthrow the 
 moral oppression of the priesthood and the political 
 oppression of the lords, and you will make it pos- 
 sible for them to improve. But what sort of govern- 
 ment should be established in the mean time ?' 
 There must be an interval, and a long one too, 
 between the establishment of a new and better sys- 
 tem, and the securing of that system by a propor- 
 tionate improvement in the people. It must be 
 a government which will not only protect the 
 lives, the property and the independence of its sub- 
 jects, but which will improve their minds and their 
 habits. Now in what proportion should be mingled 
 the ordinary elements of a supreme power ? The 
 people will make but a sorry figure at legislation 
 for some time yet to come, if we may judge from 
 their appearance when at their daily occupations; 
 and will the monarchical or the aristocratical 
 branch of the national tree cherish and protect the 
 infant shoot, for the express purpose of allowing it 
 to rise high above and overshadow themselves ? 
 This has not 't>een the inclination usually shown by 
 them in other countries, but it must be so here, or, 
 foV aught 1 can see, the Neapolitan people are 
 likely to gain little by this revolution. 
 
 But it is a cold task to reason thus, while they are 
 praising the Constitution, levying troops around us, 
 
 i 
 
164 NAPLES.-CASERTA. 
 
 and exclaiming indignantly at the cowardly escape of 
 the old king to Leghorn, on his way to Laybach. Let 
 the trial be made then — at all events resist the expect- 
 ed Austrians to blood; and now that a beginning has 
 been made, proceed, and trust the event to Providence. 
 — The result may be a more fortunate one than ig 
 promised by the commencement. This long train of 
 remarks and reflections was interrupted by our ap- 
 proach to the Royal Palace of Caserta^ whose magnifi- 
 cence, contrasted with the sublimity and loneliness of 
 the mountains behind it, at once put far away all recol- 
 lections of the distresses and the contentions of men. 
 The situation which was selected for it was admirably 
 chosen, so as to afford all the advantages of a smooth 
 and fertile country, and of the immediate neighbour- 
 hood of a range of mountains. A shady avenue a 
 mile in length conducted us to the front of the palace^ 
 while level and luxuriant fields still spread out on both 
 sides, and the peaks of the naked Appennines ele- 
 vated themselves high in front, their upper ridges 
 entirely covered with snow. 
 
 On reaching the end of the avenue, it may easily be 
 imagined that the appearance of the palace was 
 imposing, when it is mentioned that the building is of 
 white marble, and presents a front of 746 feet. 
 
 Strange as it may seem, the appearance of such an 
 equipage as ours produced some bustle at the palace 
 gate ; for during the absence of the royal family, the 
 attendants have nothing to do but to wait on the 
 strangers who come on visits of curiosity; and a small 
 sum of money is in this country so mighty a thing, that 
 the most distant hope of it is a full price for the most 
 humble obsequiousness. So soon as it was discovered 
 then that we had come to see the palace, and that we 
 could not understand more than half that was said to 
 us, a dozen men stepped forward to tender their set- 
 
NAPLES.— CASERTA. JQ^ 
 
 vices, and nobody except the sentinel at the door, 
 seemed unmoved by our presence. Two or three 
 successive messengers soon brought out the custode or 
 keeper, who, though he wore a long splendid livery, 
 and was possessed of a promising exterior, accosted 
 us with a bow so low that he seemed to have laid his 
 humble service at our feet. We could scarcely move 
 a hand or turn an eye without hearing " What does 
 your excellency wish ?" — and all this for the antici- 
 pated value of two shillings. 
 
 Such serviHty at once blunted my taste, and half 
 disgusted me with the magnificent objects to which we 
 were introduced. There is something wrong here ; 
 for while walls of marble are heaped up to the clouds, 
 and hung with the richest productions of art, the 
 mind of man is sunk in proportion, and humbled to 
 the very dust. 
 
 The palace occupies a quadrangular piece of ground 
 746 feet long, and 564 broad ; it is divided into four 
 large courts, and traversed by two spacious passages 
 on the ground floor, which cross in the centre of the 
 building. The grand stair case is here considered the 
 most superb in Europe; whether justly or not 1 cannot 
 tell. — It is very broad, the steps are ornamented with 
 sculptured animals, and the walls entirely cased with a 
 precious, variegated stone, found somewhere in the 
 vicinity. This has a magnificent effect, and not a little 
 resembles the doors of the ancient theatre in Hercu- 
 laneum, yet the architecture is nearly lost in the con- 
 fusion of shades and colours. 
 
 The bare enumeration of all the apartments through 
 which we were conducted, and the splendid statues 
 and pictures with which they were decorated, would 
 exhaust too much time, and after all would probably 
 communicate but a Yery imperfect idea of their 
 
J 6(5 NAPLES.-CASERTA. 
 
 appearance. From the enormous size of the palace, 
 it may easily be supposed the halls and chambers are 
 numerous, and of no ordinary dimensions. We were, 
 indeed, quite weary with following the keeper through 
 the long succession of halls of waiting, and halls of 
 audience, entrance chambers, guard chambers, pages' 
 waiting chambers, dining rooms, breakfast rooms, 
 banqueting rooms, libraries, cabinets, antichambers, 
 baths and bed rooms ; and were more astonished at 
 their magnificence than pleased with their accommo- 
 dation to the convenience of men. The walls are 
 usually hung with silk, and the floors are all made 
 either of small red bricks or of party-coloured stucco ; 
 and the only things to be seen like carpets, were three 
 or four small coarse mats, not near so large as the 
 rooms, and too poor and mean for the house of one of 
 our day-labourers. Carpets, however, are almost as 
 Tare here as palaces are in America, and the king him- 
 self would hardly miss it if that in his bed-chamber 
 were removed. The ceilings are all vaulted and 
 splendidly painted by the best masters of fresco or 
 water-colours ; so that in admiring the beauties of 
 the palace, not only our feet were benumbed, but 
 our necks almost broken by looking upwards. The 
 king's chapel is large enough for a small church ; 
 and there are two theatres in the palace, one of 
 which is of such size and elegance that it is consi- 
 dered inferior to none in Naples, except that of San 
 Carlo — the most splendid in Europe. 
 
 The Gardens are situated in the rear of the palace, 
 and are of very great extent. From the entrance of 
 the palace, the eye ranges through the principal pas- 
 sage, and along the whole length of the grand avenue, 
 no less than two miles long, at the end of which is an 
 artificial cascade, so formed as to resemble an im- 
 
NAPLES.— CASERTA. j 57 
 
 mense Corinthian column. Every thing here is plan- 
 ned on a scale truly magnificent : indeed the palace 
 and the gardens are decidedly too large for men, and 
 better proportioned to the size of giants. 
 
 On the left, we entered the forest^ which is a thick 
 wood, occupying one corner of the garden; and fol- 
 lowed our guide through many unfrequented paths, 
 which wound along under the shade of tall trees and 
 shrubs. In several places, the paths emerged from 
 the woods into handsome grass-plats, with a few clus- 
 ters of evergreens, and were ornamented with marble 
 statues, beautifully relieved against the foliage. There 
 we met with a fish-pond, in the midst of which is 
 an island, containing a cottage and two kitchens, 
 where the king occasionally makes a repast, crossing 
 the water by a little rope-ferry. In another place is 
 a castle, built for the purpose of instructing the young 
 princes in the art of war. It is not above twenty feet 
 in height, but is furnished with a moat, towers, and 
 battlements, and is accessible only by a draw-bridge. 
 
 All the water in the garden is derived from the cas- 
 cade, at the farther end. There we at length arrived, 
 and reposed ourselves for a time, at the foot of the 
 rock down which it is precipitated. The fall is 100 
 or 150 feet, and at its foot is a broad basin of white 
 marble, in which are two mossy rocks, ornamented 
 with groups of beautiful statues. The first of these 
 represents Diana and her nymphs bathing, and the 
 other Acteon, just changing into a stag and attacked 
 by his own hounds. 
 
 The view from this place was extensive and remark- 
 ably fine. The water from the cascade, following the 
 broad avenue, sometimes spread out in large fish- 
 ponds, and sometimes sunk under ground ; then re- 
 
IQ^ NAPLES.— CASERTA. 
 
 appearing, burst out from rocky caverns, and flowing 
 along to the next terrace, poured over the descent in 
 one smooth sheet, or dividing itself into numerous 
 channels, dashed among the rocks, and spouted from 
 the mouths of marble animals and sea-monsters. The 
 ponds abound with fine large fish, and before us were 
 two beautiful Arabian gazels lying upon the grass. 
 The place where we stood was so much elevated by 
 the successive terraces, that we overlooked the whole 
 garden, and the palace, which was now two miles offT 
 Beyond was seen the beautiful Campagna di Lavoro; 
 then the bay of Naples, with the islands Capri and 
 Ischia on the right, and Mount Vesuvius on the left. 
 A scene like this, so overflowing with the beauties 
 of art, and the magnificence of nature, seemed abso- 
 lutely wasted on such a being as the grovelling minded 
 king of Naples. O, this land is deserving of better 
 masters ! 
 
 Not far from the cascade is the entrance to the En^ 
 glish garden^ which is about three miles in circumfe- 
 rence. After a walk among the gentle hills, where 
 the prospect was continually changing from thick 
 woods to open spaces scattered with shrubs and 
 large, solitary trees, we came to a little path, which 
 after a few windings disappeared below, among the 
 shades of a dark wood. We followed it under clus- 
 ters of deep evergreens and overhanging rocks; and, 
 in several places, through grottos roughly cut out of 
 the solid stone, so narrow and crooked that we could 
 hardly force a passage, and so dark that we often had 
 to feel our way; when suddenly we found ourselves 
 on the banks of a small, silent pond, so surrounded 
 by trees, that it seemed as if twilight had shut in, 
 while every distant object, and every breath of wind 
 
NAPLES.— CAbERTA. j gg 
 
 were entirely excluded. The surface of the pond was 
 half covered with the leaves of water-piants, and not 
 a sound was heard, except the dashing of a little foun- 
 tain, which started into the air close beside us. The 
 shores were made of a broken ledge of rocks, which 
 had been hollowed out so as to form a succession 
 of grottos half round the pond, and so skilfully chis- 
 selled, as to present a most perfect imitation of the 
 antique. Indeed I am now half disposed to question 
 whether the excavations were not formed by the old 
 Romans, such was their appearance of antiquity. The 
 different apartments and passages are feebly lighted 
 by small openings towards the pond, and are usually 
 named after the mutilated statues with which they 
 are respectively decorated. In one place, a part of 
 the roof had fallen in, and the fragments of Roman 
 bricks were still lying on the floor, while vines and 
 creeping plants hung down through the aperture, some 
 of them gay with blossoms. 
 
 A blind path led us away from this secluded spot, 
 which seemed too much like fairy land for any scene 
 in this world ; and we were soon lost among the neigh- 
 bouring groves, where trees and shrubs are mingled 
 with as much disorder as in an American forest. Emer- 
 ging at length, we came again to smooth, sloping 
 grounds, shaded here and there with neat clusters of 
 trees, and gently declining to the margin of a clear 
 river. On the banks were two or three cottages, and 
 several ancient Corinthian columns, some standing, 
 and others fallen down, probably arranged by art, 
 yet so placed, as to seem the remains of some magni- 
 ficent heathen temple. This was a master-touch — a 
 mode of referring to antiquity of which the Italians 
 are peculiarly fond, and which generally adds a men- 
 tal interest to their artificial, as well as their natural 
 
 22 
 
|7() NAPLES— CASERTA. 
 
 scenes, inseparable from the soil, and incapable of 
 being transferred to most other countries. 
 
 The old town of Caserta is situated on one of the 
 rude hills behind the cascade ; and to it is annexed a 
 ducal title, which has now reverted to the king. We 
 went into the modern village to find our carriage. It 
 is truly a wretched place, though it probably may 
 contain three or four thousand inhabitants. The beg- 
 gars were a great annoyance, comii»g round us in sick- 
 ening groups of blind, maimed, weak and deformed : 
 each making his own misfortunes as conspicuous as 
 possible, and begging for a little money. It is natural 
 to inquire whether the king's superfluous treasures 
 might not have been spent, in some way, by which 
 these his wretched subjects, both as monarch and 
 duke, should have been supplied with some stimulus 
 to industry and improvement. Now, they discredit 
 both him and their country in the eyes of every 
 stranger. 
 
 The grand aqueduct, by which the cascade, and 
 the fish-ponds in the gardens are supplied with water, 
 is twenty-seven miles in length, following its wind- 
 ings ; and the water is brought from the Volturno, in 
 the territory of St. Agatha of the Goths. It turns 
 eight mills in its course, and in many places much 
 labour has been bestowed in raising and sinking the 
 level ; but the most wonderful part of the whole work 
 is about five miles from Caserta. The valley of Mad- 
 dalone is crossed by an aqueduct, which is consi- 
 dered one of the noblest architectural productions 
 of modern times, and in many respects equal to some 
 of the finest remains of antiquity in Italy. Two oppo- 
 site hills are pierced by tunnels, both of which toge- 
 ther make a subterranean passage for the water, 
 nearly four English miles in length ; and it is carried 
 
NAPLES.— CASERTA. 171 
 
 across the deep valley between them, on the top of 
 three ranges of arches, built in pure taste, of hewn 
 stone. The pilasters of the first tier of arches, are 
 Doric, the middle, Ionic, and the upper, Corinthian ; 
 and some idea may be formed of the magnificence of 
 the sight, from the fact that the pilasters of the first 
 order are fifty feet high. 
 
 During our ride home from Caserta, our conversa- 
 tion naturally turned on our intended journey to Rome. 
 We have been on shore only ten or twelve days, yet the 
 weather has been remarkably fine for the season, even 
 in this climate ; for we find that the winters here are 
 usually unpleasant, the temperature frequently vary- 
 ing, and wind, mist and rain prevailing for several 
 months. Such was the greater part of our quaran- 
 tine; but it most fortunately terminated forty-eight 
 hours before we were permitted to land, and was suc- 
 ceeded by clear skies and warm weather. The tem- 
 perature and the state of the roads are most favour- 
 able for making excursions; and the atmosphere is 
 so pure and transparent, that the promontories and 
 islands 'on the opposite side of the bay of Naples, are 
 visible almost every day; while the lava, which slowly 
 flows down the side of Vesuvius, is seen almost every 
 night from the city, as if the mountain were sprinkled 
 with burning coals, or girdled with a belt of dia- 
 monds. Many delightful places, and some antiquities 
 of secondary interest, still remain unseen; and we 
 have meditated an excursion to Pesto, the ancient 
 Poestum, where the ruins of a temple of Neptune and 
 one of Ceres, present some of the noblest remains of 
 ancient architecture, and the only specimens in exis- 
 tence of the severe old Etruscan style. But we have 
 determined to hasten our departure on several ac- 
 counts. Our time is limited, and a long journey lies be- 
 
172 NAPLES.— CASERTA. 
 
 fore us, which, if we proceed as we have begun, must 
 necessarily be very laborious. A large Austrian army 
 of eighty thousand men, it is said, is actually on its 
 march towards the kingdom of Naples : and the daily 
 accounts of its situation are so inconsistent, that we 
 cannot conjecture when it may be expected at Rome, 
 or even at Florence. We are very unwilling to delay 
 our departure until it shall reach this neighbourhood, 
 as we must expect obstacles in passing through it; 
 and it is more than probable that we should not, in 
 such a case, be permitted to leave the kingdom until 
 its fate had been decided. 
 
 We all agree that no time is to be lost. The mili- 
 tary are making a great show in the city every day, 
 and, if we are to believe their professions, will fight 
 most desperately. Many foreigners and citizens are 
 leaving the country, and we have determined to has- 
 ten as much as possible, to escape the inconvenien- 
 ces of a war in which we have no concern. But the 
 next question is, in what mode shall we travel ? The 
 corriere, who leaves here every other day for Rome, 
 carries the mail in a coach in which three passengers 
 may travel. This is not only very expensive, but much 
 too hasty for so interesting a tract of country as that, 
 over which lies a considerable part of Horace's jour- 
 ney to Brundusium, and where St. Paul travelled on 
 his way from Puteoli to Rome. The vettura is the 
 common conveyance of Italians ; and, as it stops 
 every night and travels very leisurely all day, affords 
 every desirable opportunity for seeing the road. Be- 
 sides, the expense is not half So great as with the cor- 
 riere. We all preferred the vettura on these ac- 
 counts; but there was another subject to be consi- 
 dered. The banditti of Terracina, so long known 
 for the depredations they have committed on travel- 
 
JNAPLES. 273 
 
 lers, have within three days made prisoners of two 
 Englishmen^ and carried fifteen or twenty children 
 into the mountains : at the same time shooting their 
 schoolmaster and a sentinel. It was urged in favour 
 of choosing the corriere, that the robbers have never 
 dared to attack one of them, as the transportation of 
 the mail is under the care of the king; and this finally 
 determined my friends to take their seats in his vehi- 
 cle, and to begin their journey in a few days. There 
 has been, on the contrary, no late instance of a single 
 vettura being stopped by the robbers, though several 
 such carriages pass every day the frontier of the king- 
 dom, the country infested by them. On account of 
 the cheapness of the vettura, it is to be presumed that 
 the poorest travellers would usually avail themselves 
 of it, and therefore, that they would offer very little 
 temptation to the avidity of banditti ; and as this mode 
 of travelling offers a very desirable opportunity for 
 seeing, at leisure, the whole road, I have determined 
 to travel by myself, and rejoin my friends at Rome. 
 
 The common process of making a contract with a 
 vetturino, or coachman, may give some ideas of the 
 character of the Neapolitans for good faith. I never 
 would condemn a nation in the gross; but I think a 
 traveller can hardly visit Naples, without being struck 
 with the disposition to cheat him manifested by almost 
 every person with whom he has any concern. A 
 foreign merchant, who has resided here several years, 
 declared to me, that a contract is never considered 
 binding in Naples, unless it has been committed to wri- 
 ting ; and that the native merchants are so complete mas- 
 ters of the language of signs, that two persons of the 
 same party, while negociating with another, often ex- 
 press their opinions by various ordinary motions, to 
 which they have previously agreed to fix some arbi- 
 
174 
 
 NAPLES. 
 
 trary meaning. In making a bargain with a coachman 
 to-day for a conveyance to Rome, I made him sign a 
 paper, by which he promised to give me a seat in 
 the front of his carriage, be on the road only five 
 days, and give me, at his own expense, a dinner every 
 day, and a bed every night, all for the sum of seven 
 ducats, or five dollars and sixty cents ; and provided 
 1 should be satisfied with his services, half a dollar 
 more for himself To bind the bargain, the coach- 
 man gives a ducat, which, by common law, is to be 
 retained if he fails in performing the contract; or^ 
 if the traveller gives up his journey, must be returned 
 doubled. 
 
 The lazzaroni are the most wretched set of beings 
 we have met with ; and any one of them in America, 
 would be entitled to universal commiseration. They 
 are seen collected in groups wherever they can find 
 a sunny spot in winter, and present many a revolting 
 spectacle. They are half clad in tattered garments ; 
 famine and exposure to the weather give them a ca- 
 daverous expression of face, shrivel their flesh, and 
 produce an habitual stoop and feeble gait, as if their 
 frames were loosened, and ready to sink to the ground. 
 They make small fires at this season, to cook whatever 
 they have to eat, and to warm themselves. Little curls 
 of smoke are seen rising among heaps of rubbish; or, 
 on the shore, from behind a boat drawn up, where 
 clusters of these wretches collect about a few coals. 
 They are found in every place where a stranger may 
 be expected : in churches, streets, quays, coffee-hou- 
 ses, places of curiosity, on every high hill, and under 
 every green tree. They surround you, and disturb 
 you so often with their clamorous petitions, that you 
 forget their real wretchedness, and regard them only as 
 your tormentors. You are ready to ask, why do you 
 
NAPLES. 
 
 175 
 
 spend your time thus in idleness? Why are you wan- 
 dering about the city ? And forget that they have no 
 home but the streets. 
 
 My friends set off for Rome last evening; and, as I 
 am to begin my five days journey to-morrow morning, 
 I have spent the day in taking my farewell of this place, 
 in which I have enjoyed so much, that I must always 
 regard it as a kind of enchanted land. The Villa 
 Reale, the great garden on the low margin of the bay, 
 commands a view which it is not easy to forget. One 
 of my countrymen, I think, will always have particular 
 cause to remember it; for here it was that his mind 
 seemed first to recover its natural tone, after the trials 
 of a long and dangerous journey. Having spent a few 
 months in Paris, he had felt, while travelling in Italy, 
 that the blessings of life were fast abandoning him; 
 and was surprised at the new demands which every 
 city made on his diminished store of comforts. On 
 reaching Naples, he hesitated not to declare that we 
 had begun our travels at the right end of Europe, and 
 indeed of creation ; and that his only remaining conso- 
 lation was, that he had reached the southern point of 
 his tour. Welcomed on the frontier with fresh tales 
 of murder; narrowly escaping captivity, and perhaps 
 death, in the country of banditti; beset with beggars 
 in that sacred retreat, the coffee-house, and with swarms 
 of fleas in his bed-chamber; he was, for a time, too 
 much occupied with unexpected distresses, to allow 
 his mind its usual range. Last evening however, dur- 
 ing a stroll through this garden, the scene at once re- 
 stored him to himself; all the poet broke out, and he 
 exclaimed with his characteristic and amiable enthusi- 
 asm : " They are right, they are right, who say there 
 is not another place in the world like Naples ! Only 
 look at that bay, stretching out to the horizon, and 
 
176 ROAD TO ROME. 
 
 Capri, so clearly seen though it is thirty miles ofE You 
 fancy you can see every little wave on the surface of 
 the water. The transparency of the air was never 
 exceeded in the world — and then the colours ! — ^Who 
 ever saw a softer purple than that in the west — and 
 see how it spreads over the sides of the dark promon- 
 tories. Now turn this way and look at Posilipo. What 
 a noble hill — stretching out so boldly to such a distance, 
 with an irregular surface and naked cliffs of yellow 
 rock, made on purpose to be set off" with villas, hang- 
 ing gardens, and clusters of trees — and then the long, 
 arching bay, which sweeps around so gracefully to its 
 foot — see how white the sandy beach is shining in the 
 twilight — how silently those painted boats are rowing 
 to the shore ; and yonder groups of men and women, 
 in such picturesque dresses and attitudes, are drawing 
 their nets. No wonder the Romans loved this place : 
 the same spirit that made them love poetry and sculp- 
 ture, the iEneid, and the Apollo Belvidere, brought 
 them hither. What made them prefer Rome to the 
 world, made them prefer Raise to Rome. The taste 
 that induced them to build a city of palaces, baths and 
 temples, made them relinquish it and yield the palm to 
 this master-piece of nature. Was there ever such a 
 scene ? Was there ever such a sea, was there ever 
 such a sky ? Look at it again — if this weather should 
 be interrupted, we may be seeing it for the last time; 
 and if you forget it, you never can refresh the impres- 
 sion by any other sight, if you were to make a voyage 
 round the globe in search of its fellow. 
 
 Sant 'Agata DEI GoTi.— jPc^. 3, in the evening, 1 was 
 roused to begin my journey this morning long before 
 day -light, and seated myself in the front of the carriage, 
 the place I had chosen because it offers every advan- 
 tage for seeing the country. It is indeed not so warm 
 
ROAD TO ROME. jy^ 
 
 as the interior; yet there is always a boot which comes 
 breast high, and leathern curtains can be drawn before, 
 so that one is completely covered from the weather, 
 and at the same time has small glasses before him to 
 look through. My bread and cheese, and a bottle of 
 Pozzuoh wine, were hardly stowed in the pocket on 
 one side, when the coach was proclaimed to be ready 
 -^four persons got in, and a gentleman clambered up 
 and seated himself by my side, saying in Italian, "Ex- 
 cuse me sir." It was so dark I could not see his face ; 
 but, from his pronunciation, I instantly knew him for 
 an Englishman, and he was gratified as well as surpri- 
 sed, to hear me address him in his own language. He 
 started, and tried to look at me, but it was too dark. 
 " Pray sir," said he, " when did you leave England ?'' 
 When he found I was an American, he said that would 
 do nearly as well, and that he was glad to find himself 
 gradually approaching his own country, and meeting 
 more who could speak English, after an absence of 
 -several years. 
 
 The lazzaroni were seen collected closely together 
 about small fires in the open air ; and as they half stood, 
 half lay down, some awake and watching the fires, the 
 light showed such rents in their clothes, and such 
 melancholy expressions in their faces, that I sincerely 
 pitied them. They are rogues all day, it is true : but 
 they are wretches all night. My new companion and I 
 were not long in forming an acquaintance. It was im- 
 possible to see any thing along the road, or even the 
 vetturino, who rode the near horse, for it was a little 
 before day, which is the darkest hour of night ; but, as 
 we were on the Campagna di Lavoro, and indeed on the 
 road to Caserta, it was of little consequence. My com- 
 panion told me, in a voice which any one would trust 
 for its frankness, that he had been living several years 
 
 23 
 
178 ROAD TO ROME. 
 
 in Constantinople, and had lately arrived from Greece, 
 having made the tour of the islands on his way to Eng- 
 land. At daj-break, 1 discovered in his profile a 
 regular set of features, drawn with boldness, yet pos- 
 sessing an expression of frankness of disposition, not a 
 little increased by the display of his forehead, from 
 which he had thrust back his travelling cap. At the 
 proper distance from an aquiline nose, was stationed 
 an eye, so black that it seemed visible only because it 
 was darker than the shades of night. 
 
 A short acquaintance with a volcanic country, is 
 almost sufficient to make one a disciple of Hutton ; and 
 as the conical summits of the mountains rose more dis- 
 tinctly into view, I became more and more convinced 
 that they sloped at the true volcanic angle. But when 
 the loose rocks with which they were scattered, began 
 to show their lime-stone faces, and the dust in the road 
 grew almost as white as flour, my theoretical hopes 
 took a hasty leave, and went into voluntary banish- 
 ment. A light column of smoke, which a moment be- 
 fore had seemed to me a smothered crater, excited a 
 question among my fellow-travellers, which was prompt-^ 
 ]j answered by another with a double entendre: "The 
 fire among the mountains ? It is the work of the Car- 
 bonari." This political society, which has brought 
 about the revolution by its secret operations, derives 
 its name from its founder, who once concealed himself 
 in Sicily, and gained a living by becoming a collier or 
 earbonaro. 
 
 My English companion sought to amuse me, with 
 interesting; tales of the Grecian islands ; but had im- 
 bibed in Constantinople ideas so unfavourable to the 
 Greeks, that he called them rebels instead of patriots, 
 and spoke to my gratification only, when he described 
 their desolated shores, and ancient cities. He has 
 lately trodden the soil of Athens, and Sparta, and dilates 
 
ROAD TO ROME. ] 79 
 
 on the ancient tumuli, and the broken columns half 
 buried by time, on the plain of old Troy. Long and 
 agreeable was his conversation on these subjects, and 
 double was the pleasure to be enjoyed by the mind, in 
 making continual comparisons between the past and 
 the present, both in that country, and other parts of the 
 earth. We recurred to the time when the Carthagin- 
 ian army held their camp in Capua, when these regions 
 stood in the presence of Hannibal, trembling and suflfer- 
 ing under those recent acts of military rigour, which 
 so long secured to him the name of the dread of parents, 
 [" Parentibusque abominatus Annibal."] Then came 
 up the calm and classic days when Virgil, Varius, 
 and Plotius passed along this beautiful plain under 
 the tranquillity of the reign of Augustus; and the 
 topics with which they might have beguiled the time, 
 as they approached yonder Capua, little prepared to 
 meet their friend and fellow-poet Horace, on his jour- 
 ney to Brundusium, while yet were unsung the warm 
 and glowing lines in which that incident has been 
 handed down to posterity : 
 
 ■' Postera lux oritur raulto gratissima : namque 
 Plotius et Varius Sinuessae, Virgiliusque 
 Occurrunt; animae, quales neque candidiores 
 Terra tulit, neque queis me sit devinctior alter, 
 O qui amplexus, et gaudia quanta fuerunt ! 
 Nil ego contulerim jucundo sanus amico." 
 
 •'Next morning's sun arose with lig-ht more faii-, 
 For Varius, Plotius, Virgil, met we there : 
 Souls, such as never out of heav'n were found, 
 Friends to my heart with strong- affection bound — 
 O ! what embraces, and what joys attend ! 
 In vain to me the world without a friend." 
 
 Not long afterwards, but with what different, what 
 more exalted reflections, had proceeded along this 
 
] 30 ROAD TO ROME. 
 
 road the centurion Julius with his prisoner Paul. We 
 fancy some of the Christians from Puteoli in his com- 
 pany, and his thoughts sublimely occupied on the words 
 of his dream, "Thou shalt testify of me also in Rome." 
 Capua is situated five miles from the ancient city of 
 that name, once the winter quarters of Hannibal. The 
 old city, at this distance, promises little of that luxury 
 which in ancient times proved so fatal to the Cartha- 
 ginians. The modern town, which however is several 
 centuries old, stands on the borders of the plain, near 
 the beginning of the Appennines ; and here we stopped 
 two hours at noon to refresh our horses. This was the 
 first time the horses had stopped since leaving Naples, 
 even to drink. We drove into an inn-yard, which was 
 surrounded by buildings, followed by two other vetture, 
 or coaches like our own, which we found were to ac- 
 company us all the way to Rome. It was a new thing 
 to me to find that no one of the travellers seemed to 
 think of entering the inn. Some kept their seats, and 
 producing their wine-bottles and bread and cheese, 
 began to eat and drink as if they had been at home. 
 The inside of our coach soon became the scene of 
 much hilarity, in spite of the shrivelled hands of beg- 
 gars occasionally thrust in at the windows. A French 
 lady, a young man born in Turkey, (her son-in-law,) a 
 Tuscan, and a Neapolitan, had begun to exhibit more 
 festivity over an unreasonably light repast, than is some- 
 times to be found at a regular banquet. Others had 
 descended and formed clusters in the sunny corners of 
 the yard, leaning against broken carriages and farming 
 utensils, which were piled up together. Two young 
 men in peculiar dresses conversed together in a rough 
 language, probably German, but most of the rest were 
 perfect strangers to each other, as well as to ourselves. 
 It was evidently unfashionable for travellers to enter 
 
ROAD TO ROME. Igj 
 
 an inn on an occasion like this ; for, though the liorses 
 were unharnessed by the ostlers, led into the stables, 
 and treated with marked attention, no one appeared to 
 invite us into the house. 1 ventured however to take 
 a peep within doors, but saw nothing very desirable — 
 four or five boors drinking wine, at a large, coarse ta- 
 ble, in a monstrous, empty room ; and, in another place, 
 a smaller apartment, containing only a number of old 
 harnesses. 
 
 Taking a walk through a few muddy streets, my 
 new friend and I entered a church, where as usual a 
 pale beggar-boy took up, of his own accord, the office 
 of a cicerone, and began to give us the history of the 
 chapels, and the pictures with which they were hung; 
 adding with great fluency divers original remarks, 
 till we felt ashamed to be instructed by so ragged 
 and pedantic a wretch, and ordered him angrily to 
 hold his tongue. But he instantly fell a begging, and 
 thus continued to torment us alternately with his 
 poverty and his wisdom. When we stopped to admire 
 a picture, he began with the calm tone of a connoi- 
 seur: '' That, gentleman, is so fine a copy, that you 
 may perhaps have taken it for an original, — most 
 others do the same — " or, " this painting of the holy 
 mother is much esteemed — particularly if you will 
 stand where I do, you must admire the expression of 
 her face, and the colouring of the whole." ''Stand out 
 of my way, you rogue," cried my friend, for he spoke 
 Italian fluently, " and keep your learning to yourself" 
 " Date mi qualche cosa !" [give me something,] cried 
 he, with a piteous tone : so paying him for his instruc- 
 tion, we fled into the street and went home, where w^e 
 were again beset by the beggars about the inn, as if 
 they had not seen us before. " Sir," said a woman, 
 coming up to me with such diffidence that I thought 
 it was the first time she had ever begged, "do you 
 
Ig2 ROAD TO ROME. 
 
 speak Neapolitan ? I dare say you can understand 
 enough to know that I am a poor woman, and have 
 lost my husband, who was an officer, and was killed 
 in Sicily, i have four little children," she continued, 
 holding up four fingers, " whom I have no means of 
 supporting. They are only so high, and are now at 
 home crying with hunger; for 1 have no bread to give 
 them." She then imitated their sobbing and crying, 
 "Ma! Ma! — do you understand me,- sir .^ — Four little 
 children — very young — you are a Frenchman, I per- 
 ceive — but I am sure you know how to pity me. Per- 
 haps you have a wife : think how she would feel if you 
 should die in Italy, and leave her helpless and a beg- 
 gar." My hand was already on my purse ; but I thought 
 of the length of the journey before me, and of the resolu- 
 tions I had made; yet F gave her a little money, and 
 she withdrew. Our vetturino, a large, good-natured 
 man, asked me if I had given that woman any thing ? 
 " Yes." '' You have thrown away your money, sir," 
 said he with a shrug, and passed on. 
 
 Soon after leaving Capua, the road begins lo wind 
 among conical hills, which increase in size till they 
 gradually grow to mountains; but keeps for a long 
 time on the same level, by following the narrow green 
 vallies at their feet. The first turn of the road shut 
 out the sight of the vineyards, with which the great 
 plain is covered; and nothing was to be seen but 
 groves of dark green olive trees, climbing the hills as 
 far up as there was any soil, and ending abruptly at 
 the bare, rocky tract which usually spread over their 
 summits. The olive might easily be mistaken for an 
 apple tree at a little distance — the colour of the ever- 
 green leaves is nearly the same, as well as the colour 
 of the trunk, and the shape of the boughs. 
 
 When the road, at length, began to ascend, it gave 
 US a dehs^htful view between two mountains, over the 
 
ROAD TO ROME. |g3 
 
 campagna, and the sea, far behind, with a last sight of 
 Ischia and Vesuvius. 
 
 An hour after sun-set we arrived at St. Agata, and 
 drove through a dark gate into the yard of the inn, 
 which is very old, and built of whitish stone. The 
 yard has the house on two sides, and the buildings 
 connected with it complete the square. A spacious, 
 but half furnished dining room, is on the second floor; 
 and a gallery runs along the other wing, which looks 
 into the yard, and gives access to a dozen or fifteen 
 bed-chambers, the last of which are situated over the 
 stable. The great gates were immediately shut and 
 locked ; and while we were waiting in the dining 
 room, a large pan of coals was brought in and set 
 upon the brick floor ; for there was no fire-place to 
 be seen. Here was collected a party of thirteen men, 
 and two ladies, one of whom my friend whispered me 
 he understood was a countrywoman of his. She sat 
 opposite, with an infant in her arms, and had a white 
 complexion and blue eyes : unlike all the females I 
 had seen in the country. My friend invited me, in 
 English, to sit nearer the fire. The little blue-eyed 
 woman started, looked at him an instant, and, as the 
 colour began to come over her pale cheeks, inquired 
 modestly and in a sweet voice, " You speak English, 
 sir — have you been in England lately ?" " It is many 
 years," he replied. " But sir, you speak my language 
 better than any other foreigner I ever saw. Did you 
 go to England to learn it ?" " No, I happened to be 
 born there." "Indeed, sir? I am very glad to see a 
 countryman. And is this gentleman an Englishman 
 also .^" " No," I answered, " I am from America." " You 
 speak so much like us, sir, that I am sure I could not 
 have thought so; and there is so little difference be- 
 tween us, that I am as glad to see you as if you had 
 come from my own country. I dare say you must find 
 
184 ROAD TO ROME. 
 
 every thing appearing very strange here, for I canriol 
 think that any place where they speak English can 
 be like Italy. They told me I should get used to it ; 
 but I have seen much of it, and still feel that I shall 
 never be content out of old England." 
 
 During our conversation, our fellow-travellers gath- 
 ered round us, and stood hstening with surprise and 
 a little supprc f^sed mtnimeiit, at the harsh sound of 
 our language, till we were all summoned to the long 
 dinner-table, where our coachman sat down among 
 us with an air of equality. A bottle of decent red 
 wine, and a napkin, were placed for each person ; and 
 maccaroni soup, a boiled and fried dish, which 1 could 
 not comprehend, boiled mutton, fennel, salad, oranges, 
 and cheese, were served up, one at a time. While we 
 were discussing our meah a dissertation was begun on 
 the dangers of the road, headed by the Tuscan, of 
 whom I have spoken before. He is a tall, raw-boned 
 man, and pronounces Italian with such aspirates, that 
 it sounds full as hard as the language of the two Ger- 
 mans, and is so ludicrous to me that I could scarely 
 keep myself in a state of gravity. He was very fluent; 
 and, after giving at length the story of the robbers 
 and the schoolmaster at Terracina, with some im- 
 provements, together with the particulars of an attack 
 on some travellers, of which we had not heard, pro- 
 posed that we should rise to-morrow at " one hour 
 after midnight," in order to pass the spot of danger 
 early after noon. We proposed a few questions 
 and objections : hut the talkative Tuscan so over- 
 w^helmed us with words, that we became silent through 
 disgust, though less convinced, and less disposed to 
 be so, than ever. 
 
 After dinner, when the conversation had grown still 
 more earnest and loud, the young German, (for his 
 companion proves to be a Norwegian,) made a long 
 
KOAD TO ROME. ] 85 
 
 Speech, in broken French, to the few who could under- 
 stand him, on the subject of the robbers. He insisted 
 that we should go on without fear, and, if attacked, 
 defend ourselves — With what? — " With our fists — and, 
 if overpowered bj numbers, die gloriously !" 
 
 From the midst of such a Babel, it was pleasant to 
 retire to the fire-pan, and listen to a language which 
 it cost me no exertion to comprehend. Three or four 
 of the party were already there ; and among them my 
 new acquaintance, the tidy little Englishwoman. She 
 assured me that the Italians all talk a great deal, and 
 do nothing; and that she knew the Neapolitans would 
 never fight the Austrians, for they were only vaunting. 
 She said she had been among the unfortunate ones : had 
 left Rome a few months before, where her residence 
 had been for several years, in company with her hus- 
 band, who is one of our party, to go to " Palarmo^^ to 
 keep a hotel. During one of the recent insurrections, 
 her house was entered in the night by the mob, 
 who ransacked it for General Church, formerly a 
 lodger there. Not finding him they became enraged, 
 threw the furniture into the street and set it on fire, 
 while she and her husband narrowly escaped, half 
 dressed. She saw her property burning in the street 
 for thirty hours, and her husband at length seized, and 
 thrown into prison, where he was confined for some 
 weeks, on the charge of having facilitated the general's 
 escape. She forbore being more particular in her 
 description of the outrages committed, because the 
 shocking scenes she has witnessed have very much 
 ' disordered her nerves. She therefore only hinted at 
 having seen murders committed in the streets, and dis- 
 severed limbs borne about the city, then with shud- 
 dering changed the subject to speak of Italy, 
 
 24 
 
186 KOAB TO ROME. 
 
 " They have nothing comfortable here," said she, 
 ^*no fire-places, no carpets. The Italians are very 
 disagreeable to me, having no idea of truth or cleanli- 
 ness,'''^ She travels in the coach with the high-spirited 
 young German, whose courage, however, she very 
 much distrusts. " Do not regard them, sir," she said, 
 " when they attempt to frighten you about the rob- 
 bers. For my own part, I believe Italians are gene- 
 rally cowards, though they are so valiant and boastful 
 w^hen out of danger." In speaking of the comfortless- 
 ness of this country, she pointed at the Frenchwoman, 
 who was sitting contentedly by the fire-pan, and said, 
 that though they have a clear sky and a warm climate, 
 she should "prefer a rainy day in England, a neat 
 carpeted house, and a good rousing fire^ 
 
 Castello di Gaet a. —February 4, {evening,^ Not- 
 withstanding the decision of the majority last even- 
 ing, we slept until day-light, when we were summoned 
 to begin our day's journey. At four in the afternoon 
 we reached the river Garigliano, which we crossed by 
 a bridge of boats, and passed through a gate defended 
 by two old weather-beaten towers. Just beyond, I 
 saw the arches of an ancient aqueduct, and walked 
 on to the spot, while the coaches were delayed for 
 a few minutes at the river. The ruins stand on a 
 plain a mile or two in extent, now uninhabited, though 
 partly covered with young wheat. Several shape- 
 less masses of masonry, in different places, show 
 where massive buildings once stood ; though they 
 leave it entirely doubtful whether they were palaces 
 or tombs. The principal ruin is that of an aqueduct, ' 
 of which about an hundred arches remain, built of; 
 brick, and stretching above half a mile. They vary 
 in height, according to the irregularity of the sur- 
 
 
KOAD TO ROME. I37 
 
 fece, the highest being probably fifty feet ; and under 
 one of these passes the road. The soil is nnuch in- 
 jured by the materials of edifices which have now 
 disappeared, being overspread with bits of stone, 
 bricks, and earthen vessels. Our coachman calls it 
 Nero's city ; and says it once contained a million of 
 inhabitants ! 
 
 As we approached Castello di Gaeta, we travelled 
 over a tract of low country in the neighbourhood of 
 the Mediterranean, while many peaks of the Appen- 
 nines appeared before us. We were soon involved 
 among conical mountains, which presented the most 
 dreary landscape : for they were entirely bare of trees, 
 and even destitute of shrubs and grass, from near their 
 bases to the very summits. The narrow vallies 
 through which the road winds, were indeed scattered 
 with houses, and covered with fields of young grain 
 and clusters of olive-trees ; but the barrenness of the 
 mountains so preponderated over the little fertile spots, 
 as almost to let them pass unnoticed. Between two 
 of these mountains we caught a glimpse of the Medi- 
 terranean, and a cape running out from the north six 
 or eight miles distant, with a round hill upon it, at the 
 foot of which were the compact buildings of a large 
 town, surrounded by fortified walls. It was Gaeta. 
 the Caieta of Virgil: a city containing twelve or 
 fifteen thousand inhabitants, and one of the most 
 important fortresses in the kingdom of Naples. The 
 point on which it stands shuts in a fine bay, on the 
 shore of which we soon after found ourselves, and at 
 the entrance of a small town. 
 
 The inn where we have stopped is at the end of the 
 town, and situated on a hill which slopes to the water. 
 A balcony before the windows of the dining room, 
 which is up two pair of stairs, looks down upon a ter- 
 
J 85 JiOAD TO ROME. 
 
 race, and a garden, which descends to the margin of 
 the bay, full of olive and orange trees, the latter 
 loaded with fruit : so that it is like a beautiful prospect 
 seen through a rose-bush. The island of Ponza, and 
 the rest of the cluster among which we lay so long 
 becalmed when coming on the coast, are on the hori- 
 zon off the mouth of the harbour. On our left, the 
 swelling cones of the barren Appennines rise from the 
 bay ; and on the right, a long beach sweeps boldly 
 round in a semicircle to Gaeta, just opposite, and hve 
 or six miles distant. There is something uncommonly 
 beautiful in the scene ; and the interest is not a little 
 increased by its name. Here iEneas came with his 
 fleet after leaving the Baian coast, on his way to the 
 Tiber; and it was in an olive wood in its environs, 
 that Cicero was murdered, and his tomb erected by his 
 freedman. 
 
 Our spacious dining room, notwithstanding its half 
 furnished and cheerless appearance, has its walls 
 painted in fresco, with nymphs and cupids ; and what 
 is more substantially useful, the first fire-place I have 
 seen in any Italian house, except for cooking. We 
 have come but eighteen miles from St. Agata ; but it 
 has been determined to stop here to night, to avoid 
 the danger of passing the country between Fondi 
 and Terracina in the evening ; for there is no inn at 
 Fondi. 
 
 I was somewhat surprised to find the modern 
 Italians preserving, so often, the antique forms of 
 Roman amphorae in their large earthen vessels ; and on 
 entering the kitchen before dinner, was strongly 
 reminded of that in Cicero's villa and other dwellings 
 at Pompeii, by the fire-place, the hearth of which is 
 raised three feet from the floor. Here I found our 
 Tuscan orator in an apron, with his sleeves rolled up, 
 
ROAD TO ROME. Ig9 
 
 preparing some rice for our soup, and singing and 
 talking with great vivacity. Half our company w^ere 
 collected there to laugh at his jests and at him. 
 
 A small troop of Neapolitan horse were drawn up 
 in front of the inn for exercise, and exhibited less 
 regard to military decorum than is to be seen among 
 a company of the rawest New-England militia. 
 They talked with each other, and even jested with 
 their commander in a most unbecoming manner. 
 The road for a mile beyond is marked on each side 
 with ruinous Roman tombs, so that it there follows the 
 track of the Appian Way. Here I noticed again the 
 ancient reticulated brick-work, and small sepulchral 
 chambers, each with a door and three niches, in 
 most of which there are still the remains of fresco 
 paintings. 
 
 Returning to the inn, we found the Englishwoman 
 by the fire, still supporting the fatigue of travelling with 
 patience, and regarding the dangers of banditti with 
 calmness. She said she had brought along with her a 
 little plum-pudding, which she produced, and having 
 cut it, offered it to her fellow travellers. The French 
 and Italians turned it over and over, and eyed it sus- 
 piciously ; but all pronounced it good. She did not 
 know whether they had it in America or not ; but it 
 was such a custom in England. This was not very 
 good, she said, it was made in a plain way. She fed 
 her little boy with it. " So you intend to make a John 
 Bull of him .f^" " Indeed I do. He shall go there as 
 soon as he is old enough, and be put to school, (he 
 shall learn English at all events^) then go on board a 
 ship, and learn to be a Httle sailor." " You like sailors 
 then .f*" " Yes, they are so bold and generous.'^' 
 " Yes ; but they are sometimes so vicious." " And 
 are not they vicious who live on shore ?" Her tales 
 
J90 llOAD TO ROME. 
 
 of " Paiarmo^^ came to my mind, and 1 confessed it, 
 *' A sailor saved my life," she said, " and I shall always 
 like sailors. I was on a passage to the East Indies, 
 when only seven years of age, and the ship sprung 
 aleak. Part of the crew took the boat, under pretence 
 of doing something for our assistance ; but they went 
 off towards St. Helena, which was in sight, and we 
 saw no more of them. When the ship was about 
 sinking, a sailor, whose looks 1 had always disliked, 
 placing me on a plank, swam with me to the shore." 
 
 After dinner, at which the Tuscan presided with 
 great glee, we formed a party, and went out, in a dark 
 and cloudy evening, to a small coffee-house in the 
 neighbourhood. It was filled with soldiers, playing 
 cards, and listening to one in a scarlet coat playing a 
 guitar. The music ceased, and all was silence, as we 
 entered and seated ourselves at the upper end of the 
 room. The Frenchwoman at our head, with her dog 
 and son, moved along with dignity, and gracefully 
 bowed on both sides. We had hardly begun to sip 
 our coffee, when the musician, bowing to us, touched 
 his guitar, rolled up his eyes, and struck into a song 
 with a most languishing air. We applauded of course ; 
 and all the dogs in the room joined their barking and 
 howling. The dogs were hissed and commanded to 
 be silent, but for some time in vain. Just as peace was 
 restored the door opened without noise, and a tall 
 figure dressed like a woman, in black, with a black 
 mask, stepped into the room and took its seat. The 
 dogs instantly sprung at her with great noise, but were 
 again silenced. Several questions were directed to 
 her, but she answered only with signs ; and, much to 
 my surprise, the soldiers next her instantly began to 
 use gestures, without speaking, as familiarly as if they 
 had been educated in a school of the dumb. All per- 
 
ROAD TO ROME. j 9 1 
 
 severed in the strictest silence, and conducted with 
 great good manners ; though some of them were suf- 
 ferers from the silent but humourous sallies and repar- 
 tees of the mysterious stranger. Masking is practised 
 during the whole of the carnival, but it becomes uni- 
 versal only at the end of it. 
 
 Here we sat listening to the music, and observing the 
 amusing behaviour of the black mask ; and were so 
 content with the enjoyments of resting travellers, that 
 we forgot the fatigues of to-day, and the dangers of to- 
 morrow. On leaving the coffee-house, our heteroge- 
 neous party bade good night in some half dozen lan- 
 guages ; and we were again in a narrow street, where 
 it was very dark, frequently stepping into holes half 
 filled with water by the rain, which had fallen while 
 we were thus enjoying ourselves. " We have been 
 happy this evening among an agreeable party :" 
 observed one, whose thoughts happened to recur to 
 the banditti : " perhaps the incidents of to-morrow 
 evening may be very different, as well as our com- 
 panions." 
 
 Terracina, — February 5, (evening?) The Italian inns, 
 with their large dreary rooms, stone floors, and scarcity 
 of furniture, have yet many substantial comforts. They 
 have always given us a warm welcome, when we have 
 come to take up our lodgings, though we are quite unno- 
 ticed at noon, when we stop only to refresh the horses. 
 The table has been neatly though plainly set, with a 
 clean cloth and clean napkins; the servants are suf- 
 ficiently attentive, and the food good and well cooked. 
 But still higher praise is due to the beds. The bed- 
 steads are of iron, and have boards in the place of 
 sacking ; but they are made very soft, with a sack of 
 straw and a fine feather bed, and we have been 
 thus far supplied with clean and fresh linen. 
 
J 92 ROAD TO ROME. 
 
 Our coachman declared this morning that there was 
 no danger, for that he had travelled this road thirty 
 years without seeing a single robber. The driver of 
 one of the other coaches however, was taken by ban- 
 ditti only a week ago and carried into the mountains : 
 but he answers all our questions very generally, and 
 evidently is, though I know not why, very averse to 
 speaking on the subject. He pointed out, at our re- 
 quest, the ruin called Cicero's Tomb. It is a mass of 
 masonry about fifty feet high, shaped like a dilapidated 
 square tower, and half covered with shrubs and vines. 
 Every body hereabouts who is in the habit of meeting 
 with travellers, has the names of the principal objects of 
 curiosity always on his tongue. When I inquired how- 
 ever of the coachman, what were the other ruins along 
 the road, he said he believed they were all Cicero's. 
 
 Fondi is the last town in the Neapolitan territory, 
 and we felt, on approaching it, that it would have 
 graced the borders of a desert. For several miles, 
 the road had grown so hilly that the horses travelled 
 very slowly, and Mr. P. (my English friend,) and my- 
 self had descended and proceeded op foot. We 
 wound among high hills of limestone scattered with 
 olives, under which the ground was green with young 
 wheat;, apparently uninjured by the shade. Rougher 
 and rougher the surface grew, till the road, winding 
 painfully along the sides of rocky hills, became dar- 
 kened by their shadows, and looked down on deep 
 valleys worn into ravines, by the washing of torrents, 
 which at some seasons of the year pour down from the 
 mountains. iVttempts at cultivating the little spots 
 of soil situated on peaks out of the reach of the 
 water, helped to give an idea of the labour by which 
 the poor inhabitants must purchase their food. The 
 stone walls were half broken down, and the rocks on 
 
KG AD TO ROME. 293 
 
 each side of us, encroached more and more upon the 
 olive grounds at every turn. The ruins of small 
 Roman tombs were blackened within by smoke, as if 
 they had often afforded shelter to houseless heads ; 
 and the i'ew huts we observed here and there, among 
 the great grey rocks, seemed the cheerless homes of a 
 wretched people, spirit-broken by the parsimonious 
 soil. 
 
 We met a few men, whose appearance was strongly 
 marked with poverty. According to custom, they 
 saluted us with " Buon giorno Signore ;" but Mr. 
 P. declared they answered the description given of 
 them by the Tuscan, and he thought them as despe- 
 rate looking fellows as any Greeks he ever saw among 
 the islands. When we reached Fondi, and had passed 
 through the gate, which as usual was guarded by old 
 and weather-beaten stone towers, a narrow street 
 appeared before us, in all the dreary poverty of the 
 worst Italian towns. Small houses stood on each side, 
 wdthout windows, whose doors when shut made them 
 seem uninhabited, and when open, showed little more 
 than the poverty of the owners, who, since the days of 
 Horace, have not even a " Latus Clavus" to be proud of. 
 
 Here we had to stop at the custom-house, for Fondi 
 is the last town in the Neapolitan territory. Beggars 
 crowded round us, bringing their rags, and proclaiming 
 aloud their various sorts of misery, as if each one had 
 suffered beyond the endurance of humanity. If they 
 had been besieged until, like the inhabitants of Jeru- 
 salem, they had devoured one another, and we had 
 just arrived with supplies ; or if they had been ship- 
 wrecked, and were now almost dead with hunger on a 
 desert coast, and we had come with provisions ; they 
 could hardly have appeared more eager and perse- 
 vering in the cries of " Give me a little naoney — I am 
 
 25 
 
194 l^OAD TO ROME. 
 
 half starved — -My children are dead with hunger— I 
 will pray for a safe journey for you — May the samts 
 protect you from the robbers — O sir, give me a single 
 grain for my mother — You have money and we are 
 sick and poor." If we sat in the coach, a dozen 
 voices were heard repeating over such words as these, 
 and so loud, that we could scarcely think; while if we 
 descended, it was muddy and rainy. One of the most 
 disgusting of these objects was a poor boy, who had 
 the misfortune to have no teeth; and he persecuted us 
 a long time, by opening his mouth to excite our pity, 
 and begging for bread, until the Frenchwoman asked 
 him, very abruptly, " how he could eat it without 
 teeth." 
 
 The officers of the custom-house threw in our way 
 every possible impediment, so that they detained us 
 two hours, by examining our baggage, as if they had 
 been desirous we should arrive late at the place of 
 danger. 
 
 Beyond, the road lay among rough mountains, unin- 
 habited and uncultivated. Little centry-boxes grew 
 more frequent ; and in some places were seen marks 
 of former terraces and breast-works, on which camion 
 had once been planted. The road was still very fine, 
 and followed the course of a torrent, though so high 
 above as to be out of its reach at all seasons of the 
 year. Many advantageous positions for artillery might 
 be pointed out, even by one the most ignorant of mili- 
 tary affairs; and it was surprising that no attention 
 was yet paid to them, as this is one of the great passes 
 by which alone the country is accessible to an army, 
 and the Austrians are now said to have nearly reached 
 Rome, in one place there were two men occupied- 
 with their shovels, about a long-neglected battery of 
 two pieces of artillery, which, from that situation. 
 
ROA]^ TO ROME. X95 
 
 might sweep the road, that declined before them for 
 the distance of a mile — a mere burlesque on the sub- 
 ject. But perhaps it was intended, when the danger 
 approached nearer, to throw more important obstacles 
 in the way of their enemies. The road had been built 
 up in many places over ravines, and might in a few 
 hours be destroyed : cannon might be mounted here 
 and there on commanding points, to annoy the enemy 
 while they should be occupied in repairing it, and 
 then, retiring a little and repeating the same opera- 
 rations, an army might be ruined before the mountains 
 were passed. Here is one of the defiles where the 
 Neapolitans must win or lose their liberty : and in a 
 few days, the dry channels of the torrent will doubt- 
 less be flowing with the best blood in the kingdom. 
 
 A tract of plain country succeeded, and we soon 
 reached the Roman frontier, which is marked by a 
 gate over the road, adjoining the barracks and stables 
 of a small body of dragoons. Here we stopped some 
 time, while it was agitated whether we should take an 
 escort. The Roman and the Tuscan seemed much 
 alarmed : the one for his English wife, the other for 
 himself; and in concert with several others, used all 
 their eloquence to persuade the majority to hire an 
 escort. The story was that a soldier had been shot 
 by the robbers last night, and that the neighbourhood 
 was in a state of trepidation. Several dragoons, in 
 brass helmets and green coats, the military colour of 
 the Romans, seemed very ready to accompany us. 
 Their horses stood harnessed, and they walked about 
 dragging their sabres over the stones, and telling us the 
 road was infested. S6me of the travellers urged, that 
 four or five dragoons would be enough to keep the 
 bandits from attacking us ; others said, that as we had 
 no arms we could do nothing, and that so small an 
 
196 ROAD TO ROME. 
 
 escort would be insufficient to intimidate a band of 
 forty-four desperate robbers, and would only induce 
 them to fire upon us. 
 
 To my surprise, the little Englishwoman was among 
 the few who appeared perfectly calm. She declared 
 that she believed the soldiers had invented the stories 
 they told us, and said she would sooner trust herself 
 with the robbers than with them. The French- 
 woman evidently set very lightly by the danger, and 
 impatiently desired we might be no longer detained : 
 indeed the appearance which the scenery had assumed 
 was well calculated to make one estimate the danger 
 rather less. It was about an hour before sun-set ; the 
 clouds were fast dispersing, the wind had fallen, and 
 the sun was shining obliquely upon an extensive and 
 beautiful landscape. On the right, a rough mountain 
 slanted from a great height to the very edge of the road ; 
 and on the left, stretched out an extensive tract of flat 
 ground, divided into little capes and islands by large 
 sheets of still, smooth water, which reflected every 
 shrub and flower that grew on the margin. A lonely 
 Gothic tower stood on a distant point, to stamp the 
 landscape European; the grass had received a fresher 
 hue from the rain, and large flocks of ducks were 
 swimming and diving near the shores. There was 
 nothing here like the narrow defiles or dark forests, in 
 which the imagination places banditti. The road 
 continued broad and smooth, and had no trees, walls 
 nor hedges, to separate it from the low plain on one 
 side, and the bare rocky declivity on the other. 
 
 The Frenchwoman, as if to show her hght esteem 
 for her valiant fellow-travellers, set out and walked 
 a mile or more into the robbers' country, attended 
 only by her dog. When the carriages were ready to 
 proceed however, we were detained more than half 
 
ROAD TO ROME. 197 
 
 an hour by an unfortunate circumstance. The Ger- 
 man traveller, who had already mounted his seat, on 
 being solicited by a soldier for a paolo^ [a Roman sil- 
 ver coin of ten baiocchi, or cents,] struck him in the 
 face with the passport, which he had received from his 
 hands. This so exasperated the soldier that he 
 returned the blow ; and a scuffle ensued, in which 
 the German was dragged down, taken into the guard- 
 house, and threatened with irons. The coachman 
 was arrested ; and it was not until some time had heen 
 spent in arguing the cause with the officer of the sta- 
 tion, that we were able to proceed. When it was 
 proved satisfactorily that the German was in fault, he 
 was kept under guard; and we took up our line of 
 inarch, escorted by four dragoons, two preceding and 
 two following us. Their steeds were clean-limbed, 
 and stepped along the fine hard road with much 
 spirit, forming a striking contrast with our deliberate 
 mules and horses. The riders were good looking 
 men, well armed with pistols, sabres and carabines ; 
 and had so martial an expression, with their faces half 
 covered with mustachios, and the visors and straps 
 of their brass helmets, that we could not but think 
 a larger number of them might have proved a protec- 
 tion from the robbers in case of necessity. 
 
 Our vetturino, turning round in his saddle, at length 
 ventured to speak what he had long been thinking 
 of. " That German,'' said he, in a low voice, " was 
 mad to insult one of the soldiers in that manner, while 
 he was in their power. He will be very fortunate if he 
 ever sees Germany again. If he does, I would advise 
 his friends to keep him at home — such a little fool is 
 not fit to travel, histead of coming to Italy to see our 
 delightful country and our antiquities, as others do, he 
 does nothing but get himself and more honest men into 
 
398 ROAD TO ROME. 
 
 difficulty." We inquired if he thought the escort we 
 had taken would be of any use to us. " I don't know," 
 said he, " I have travelled this road thirty years with- 
 out seeing a robber, and yet I find there is much alarm 
 among the people on account of their late outrages. 
 It was very imprudent for that Frenchwoman to go on 
 before us alone : though the soldiers are rascals and 
 robbers themselves — ^I know them — they are the last 
 people in the world [ would trust myself with. They 
 hate Germans, and they will do that foolish young 
 man as much harm as they can. To gratify their 
 revenge I dare say they may tempt him to escape, and 
 then shoot him on the road." 
 
 Sentry boxes are placed along the road every 
 quarter or half mile ; and the dragoons were very 
 careful to point out that near which the soldier had 
 been shot the night before. There was the mark of a 
 musket-ball on the plaster with which it was covered ; 
 but we had only their assertion for believing that 
 the ball had first passed through the body of the 
 sentinel. 
 
 We were now at the base of a mountain, the sides 
 of which rose to a considerable height on our right, 
 entirely divested of trees and covered with loose 
 grey rocks, which in some places had been blasted out 
 with gunpowder to make a passage, and were tottering 
 over the road. On the left the Mediterranean stretch- 
 ed out to the horizon ; and the waves were roll- 
 ing up and breaking so near us, as sometimes to make 
 our horses start and almost to wet us with spray. This 
 was the place of danger ; and though few of my compa- 
 nions seemed to be afraid, all of them had some 
 anxiety in their countenances, when they found them- 
 selves on the spot which had been, for many years, in 
 the undisputed possession of a band of robbers, 
 
ROAD TO ROME. jgg 
 
 and where they had committed so many acts of 
 violence and barbarity. The dragoons pointed to- 
 wards the summit of the momitain, to remind us of 
 the people by whom it was inhabited, and spurred on 
 as if they were really apprehensive of danger. Con- 
 versation was suddenly at an end, as our horses and 
 mules got into a round trot, almost for the first time 
 since we had left Naples, and we rode on in silence 
 for two or three miles, looking at every large rock as 
 we passed it, to see if there w ere not some moving 
 thing behind. We met a small party of men loitering 
 by the road side, dressed in old cloaks made of red- 
 dish cloth, with one end thrown over the shoulder. 
 They greeted us as we passed, and we hastened on 
 towards Terracina without seeing a single habitation, 
 or meeting another living being. 
 
 At length a turn in the road, which wound round a little 
 point in the mountain, still on the sea-shore, brought 
 us in sight of a strong gate, under which we were to 
 pass. It leaned against a rock, which had here been 
 cut down forty feet, and was supported on the other 
 side by a tower rising from the water. We were now 
 in safety, and congratulated ourselves on our good 
 fortune, as w^e passed through the gate and came in 
 sight of Terracina. There are several very singulai* 
 rocks near the city gate. One of them is more than 
 a hundred feet high, shaped like a very sharp pyramid, 
 and marked all over with strata of different shades. 
 It occupies but a small space on the ground, and ter- 
 minates in an acute point. One side is nearly or 
 quite perpendicular, and serves as a post to the gate 
 of the city : for the hooks are driven into the stone, and 
 the gate hangs upon it. Does not Horace refer to these 
 rocks, when he says, " Saxis late candentibus Anxur ?'' 
 
 We were told on entering Terracina, that the inha- 
 
200 ROAD TO ROME. 
 
 bitants had been in a state of alarm half the day, be- 
 cause news had been brought by a peasant, that the 
 robbers meditated a sudden attack upon it before sun- 
 set. The story of their shooting a soldier was confirm- 
 ed, and their apprehensions seemed to be much ex- 
 cited. 
 
 The inn where we have stopped Is very large, and 
 the hospitably of its inmates was redoubled in our view, 
 by the joy we experienced on finding ourselves deli- 
 vered from the danger of banditti We were soon seat- 
 ed at a table in a recess of the enormous dining room, 
 and were happy and social in a degree that would have 
 honoured the most luxurious repast. The Tuscan re- 
 doubled his witticisms, and as usual laid a heavy tax 
 on our risibles; for the native incurable length of his 
 visage continually brought to mind the Knight of the 
 rueful countenance, and drew from my laughing neigh- 
 bours many a sarcastic remark. — One compared it to a 
 face in a spoon, and another to " a sum in long division." 
 We were all pitying and blaming the poor German; 
 for he had caused us some unnecessary inconvenience, 
 as well as exposed himself to danger, when he unex- 
 pectedly entered the room, and, after a hurried greet- 
 ing, took his seat among us. He had come from the 
 frontier to this place on foot, guarded by three dis- 
 mounted dragoons with loaded carabines; and after"' 
 an examination before the commandant of the town, 
 had been dismissed. He evidently was desirous of 
 keeping up his consequence in our eyes : but the agita- 
 tion which made his voice tremble and his hands shake,- 
 showed that his courage had long since deserted him. 
 Hfe told us in French, that he had been conducted by 
 the soldiers to a tribunal, where an examination wa& 
 held ; and, on promise of being set at liberty, had sub- 
 scribed a paper he did not take the trouble to read. 
 
KOAD TO ROME. 20 1 
 
 and had begged pardon on his knees, as it was a mere 
 form. He made bitter complaints of having been de- 
 serted by his companions, while the soldiers were 
 abusing him, and took such high ground, notwithstand- 
 ing the humiliation he had lately suffered, as to provoke 
 sharp rebukes from several of his neighbours. In speak- 
 ing of America, which he took occasion to praise in ex- 
 travagant terms, he inquired how much such a bottle oi 
 wine as that he held would cost in my country. 1 told 
 him we had none such, and that all our wines were ex- 
 tremely dear. "But how is that?" he inquired, "you 
 might buy German or Italian wines at a low rate, and 
 import them." "Consider," said Mr. P., speaking also 
 in French, " Attendez, il faut payer la douane ; com- 
 prenez vous?" [Consider — all necessary expenses must 
 be paid at the frontiers— do you understand ?] This 
 cutting jest had a surprising effect — our companions 
 bit their lips, and laughed heartily with their eyes, and 
 the poor German hung his head, and at an early op- 
 portunity effected his retreat. 
 
 Velletri, — Feb. 6, in the evening, — We entered upon a 
 large plain very early this morning, the first part of 
 which was well cultivated, and had some cottages upon 
 it. As we proceeded, however, we found ourselves 
 among vast, neglected fields ; wet low grounds, over- 
 grown with thick bushes like willows, and standing 
 ponds, full to the brim. Herds of large grey cattle 
 and half-wild horses were ranging about, and feeding 
 without a keeper ; and a few ducks and other fowl were 
 occasionally seen in the air and on the water. The 
 mountains had retired to a great distance on the right, 
 and not a habitation was to be seen on the whole plain 
 beyond us. The rising sun, which had not yet reach- 
 ed us, shone on villages perched on the lower peaks of 
 the mountains; and the road, which still continued 
 
 26 
 
202 ROAD TO ROME. 
 
 broad and flat, stretched out straight before us for many 
 miles. It is lined with rows of trees, and by canals 
 filled with water from neighbouring ponds. This tract 
 of country which we were entering, is the Pomptine 
 marshes, on which the ancient Romans bestowed in 
 vain so much expense, to render them fit for cultivation. 
 The remains of vast dykes are still seen in many places, 
 which serve to prove the ill success of their great plans. 
 Some of the popes have exerted themselves on the same 
 grounds; yet, although they have drained large tracts 
 which are now ploughed, sown, and reaped, nobody 
 ventures to build his house far from the borders of the 
 marshes, and wild horses and cattle are still their sole 
 occupants, as in the warm seasons of the year, a malig- 
 nant fever, called malaria^ seizes upon all who are ex- 
 posed to the unhealthy exhalations of these moist, low 
 grounds. 
 
 Mr. P. and myself were so situated as to feel pecu- 
 liarly the desolation of the land. We had paid so ex- 
 orbitantly for a cup of coffee at Terracina, that we had 
 resolved to supply ourselves with bread, and replenish 
 our wine-bottle, (unfortunately again dry,) at some 
 village on the road, as we had usually done before. As 
 the horses always walked, we could descend at any 
 time from the carriage, and without much exertion soon 
 leave it behind. On leaving Terracina, however, we 
 found ourselves on the marshes, and were forced to be 
 content without either food or drink till noon, when we ' 
 reached the post house, in the middle of the marsh. 
 Here we got some coarse provisions, and light, sour \ 
 wine, paying in proportion to the dearth of the land ; j 
 and made a meal in an upper, large, unftjrnished room, \ 
 in a large, unfurnished house, sitting two in a chair, at j 
 something like a carpenter's bench. In order thatj' 
 travellers may be furnished with a shelter, fire, bedff. 
 
JIOAD TO ROME. 203 
 
 and food, the government have built and provided for 
 the support of such houses as this. The buildings are 
 very large, and though almost unfurnished, and but 
 half tenanted, might protect a great many travellers 
 from the unwholesome air of the surrounding country. 
 Large stables are ready for their horses, and a small 
 church is among the buildings, though apparently less 
 used than any of the rest. A poor family have been 
 tempted by the prospect of a decent livelihood, which 
 is as attractive in this country as a fortune in ours, to 
 expose themselves to a dreadful disease, and short, 
 miserable lives. Those who now survive, are pale and 
 feeble ; and we sometimes met them, when we had 
 missed our way among the various passages of the 
 post-house, wandering about with dispirited looks, 
 among long galleries, and empty, dismal chambers. 
 Large half-wild cats were strolling around without 
 object, and on meeting us fled precipitately up and 
 down, as if a man were an unusual sight. 
 
 Our facetious Tuscan had in the mean time recov- 
 ered his wonted spirits, and drawn ofFmost of our com- 
 panions to a lower kitchen, where they suffered them- 
 selves to be made merry over some thin, hot soup, 
 cheese made of sheep's milk, and miserable sour wine. 
 Mr. P. and myself, as I said before, were enjoying a 
 luncheon in an upper room with three others, after we 
 had with some difficulty found seats enough for us all. 
 A pale, melancholy woman, with good features, and 
 deep black eyes, acted as the wretched mistress of 
 this house of desolation. She seemed brooding over 
 past scenes of trouble; and her face expressed less 
 hope than fortitude and resignation. Some questions 
 we asked roused her from a partial lethargy, and she 
 gave us a history of herself in few, but impressive 
 words. 
 
204 ROAD TO ROME. 
 
 " I was born among the mountains," she said, " out 
 of sight of the marshes, in a pleasant and healthful 
 country. In an evil hour we were induced to come to 
 this dreary place, as misfortunes had reduced my hus- 
 band to poverty. The first warm season our whole 
 household, except two, were severely attacked by the 
 malaria, which has returned upon us fourteen succes- 
 sive years, till the greater part of those who once form- 
 ed my family are dead, and all of us who survive have 
 been repeatedly reduced to the borders of the grave, 
 by a malignant fever which has never left enough of 
 the house in health, to take care of the sick." 
 
 While she spoke thus, my companions regarded her 
 with more and more attention, till their countenances 
 expressed as much melancholy as her own ; and as the 
 narration proceeded, one of the large cats occasionally 
 startled us, by making its appearance suddenly at the 
 door, or glaring from a hole in the chimney. " Figlio 
 mio," continued the poor woman in answer to me who 
 had last spoken ; " My son, the malaria has robbed me 
 of four little children, all I ever had ; and 1 have thought 
 every year since that it would take my life also. At best, 
 I cannot endure its repeated attacks much longer. I 
 am rarely free from the fever four months in the year, 
 and nearly the whole household are in the same condi- 
 tion. A dropsy, the natural effect of its repeated at- 
 tacks, has now advanced to an alarming height, so that 
 death will soon succeed my accumulated sufferings. 
 My son, we are absolutely sacrificed to the deadly at- 
 mosphere of these morasses." 
 
 1 set out on foot with my friend, before the carriage 
 was ready ; and the loud laugh of the Tuscan and bis 
 merry gang, made a shocking discord with the voice 
 of misery which was still in my ears. As we walked 
 on, the fine straight road, bordered with trees and a 
 
 i. 
 
ROAD TO ROME. 205 
 
 canal on each side, had something very dispiriting in 
 its appearance, and the landscape appeared more dis- 
 mal than ever, since we had heard so striking an ac- 
 count of the cause of its desertion. The same deadly 
 disease has for centuries, triumphed over the exer- 
 tions of men to change the face of the Pomptine 
 marshes ; and has wasted the strength of every arm 
 that has been stretched to rescue them from deso- 
 lation. 
 
 As there was nothing in the scenery to attract our 
 attention, our cofiversation wandered to a variety of 
 subjects. We talked of music, and my friend proved 
 to be an amateur. He spoke enthusiastically of many 
 Italian composers ; but declared that Rossini, lately 
 so much in vogue, has introduced an unnatural style, 
 and that all Italy has gone mad with him. " That 
 soldier, the other evening at Gaeta," said he, " played 
 several of his airs, and with a silly languishing look 
 and posture too well suited to them. I don't believe 
 there is any country in the world, but the kingdom of 
 Naples, where a tall, whiskered soldier, expecting 
 daily to be called into the field to defend his liberties, 
 would sit and roll up his eyes over the guitar, and 
 melt down every manly note in his voice to such sick- 
 ening sweetness." He then spoke of his own country; 
 and 1 found him as enthusiastic in his praises of the 
 English ladies, who, he declared, certainly make the 
 best wives in the world — except the Americans. 
 
 Our road continued to ascend ; and we were among 
 gentle hills, cultivated only in patches, with here 
 and there a cluster of trees or shrubs. The sun was 
 going down, and night fast coming on, as we approached 
 the city of Velletri. A post chaise, and a coach and 
 four, drove by us at a round trot, guarded by four dra- 
 goons who had accompanied them all the way from 
 
206 ^^^^ TO ROME. 
 
 the frontier, and entered the city. Our carriages at 
 length came up, and we soon found ourselves in the 
 dining-room of an inn, where a party of English ladies 
 and gentlemen were seated about the fire, being the 
 travellers who had just passed us, and reached the 
 inn in season to engage the best chambers and provi- 
 sions. They were all talking and laughing very gaily, 
 and my friend could hardly restrain his impatience to 
 introduce himself as a countryman. Five years' ab- 
 sence from England among the Turks have prepared 
 him to relish home in a high degree; and he never 
 meets a countryman, nor hears his native language, 
 without being reminded of another and another source 
 of pleasure that awaits him in his own country, among 
 his own kin, and in his own house. He contented 
 himself, however, with standing in the back ground, 
 and declaring again and again, that the English ladies 
 were the most modest and the most amiable in the 
 world- — except the Americans. He was restrained 
 by a respect to their higher rank ! which, I reflected 
 with pleasure, is a much smaller obstacle in our coun- 
 try When our fellow-travellers from the other vet- 
 turas came in, the ladies who were by the fire, recog- 
 nised the features of their own country under the 
 plain hat of our little Englishwoman ; and welcoming 
 her with great condescension, made her sit with them, 
 admired her little boy, heard a summary of her trou- 
 bles, gave a cup of tea to her, and to her child bits of 
 plum cake out of their bags, talked kindly to her, and 
 affectionately to each other about her, till I thought I 
 had never heard sweeter voices. 
 
 We were now informed, that the inn was too small 
 for the comfortable entertainment of so many; and 
 our dinner soon satisfied us of the justice of the remark. 
 Here was room for discontent ; but, instead of com- 
 
ROAD TO ROME. 207 
 
 plaining, we were all very soon in high spirits. The 
 Tuscan took the lead, with many humorous sallies. 
 He is considered, by a portion of our party, as an un- 
 doubted wit; and even the most disgusted, sometimes 
 condescend to smile at his jests. When dinner was 
 over he set himself to enumerate, in his rough dialect, 
 the dishes with which we had been regaled. The 
 snipe he called tordinini, a double diminutive from 
 tordi, their name in Italian ; and the soup, which was 
 remarkably thin, he denominated pane sudato, [sweated 
 bread.] 
 
 The country in the neighbourhood of Velletri is very 
 hilly, so that we set out on foot. On reaching the top 
 of a hill, the wind blew over us so cold, (for it vi^as 
 scarce sunrise,) that my friend and I sat down under 
 the shelter of a hedge. Two boys, who were kindling 
 a fire in the field, invited us to come and warm our- 
 selves, which we willingly did. A stone being placed 
 on the ground, and a quantity of the stalks of Indian 
 corn, piled upon it, a comfortable fire was soon made, 
 and we began to taste the bread, figs and wine we 
 had brought along with us. The boys were dressed 
 in blue linen jackets and breeches, with long crooked 
 knives hanging at their girdles, with which they trim- 
 med the vines. On a high hill opposite was a small 
 ancient town, half hidden by green olive trees, while 
 lower down the soil was devoted to the raising of 
 vines, which were supported by reeds. The young 
 vine-dressers, having made a cheerful fire, opened a 
 sack they had brought with them, and produced first 
 a wooden bottle, like a canteen, full of red wine ; a 
 small cheese, made of sheep's milk, shaped like a 
 crooked squash ; and then some cakes of a bright yel- 
 low colour, which they called farinella. These they 
 split, and toasted on the end of a stick, and gave us a 
 portion, which proved to be, in all respects, the identi- 
 
208 ROAD TO ROME. 
 
 cslI jonny-cake of New England, or the corn-bread of the 
 southern states. 
 
 A mile or two beyond we had several steep hills 
 to descend, where it was necessarj for a wheel of 
 the vettura to be chained, notwithstanding the 
 labour which had been bestowed upon the road, at 
 some very distant period, in several places it was 
 cut down in a straight line, to the depth of twenty 
 feet, for a considerable distance, exposing a surface 
 which had the appearance of volcanic rock. Some- 
 times we were shaded by dark, overhanging woods, 
 and here and there the soil bore marks of old culti- 
 vated fields, and fortified positions, deserted, perhaps^ 
 in the dark ages. 
 
 At the corners of the streets, in a town we passed 
 through, printed papers were stuck up bearing these 
 words upon them, "Iddio ci vede — Eternita," [God 
 sees you — Eternity ;] as if to remind us that we were 
 within the precints of a spiritual dominion. 
 
 By a steep descent we reached a narrow and deep 
 valley, towards which the old walls of the town pre- 
 sented a high and inaccessible precipice of masonry, 
 and had the air of a fortress once of considerable 
 importance. In the valley is a wall of a most singular 
 description. It is about fifty or sixty feet high, eight 
 or nine feet thick, and ten rods long ; and is cut out 
 of the solid rock, with no vestige of rubbish on the 
 ground, which is a beautiful grass-plot reaching to the 
 very base of the wall. 
 
 The ground continued very hilly several miles far- 
 ther; and the winding of the road brought us by turns 
 under the shade of dark trees, before the mouths of 
 grottos dug into the rocks, and across little brooks 
 running through narrow vallies, from which every dis- 
 tant object was hidden by the surrounding hills. At 
 length we came in sight of a ruinous mass in the mid- 
 
ROAD TO ROME. 209 
 
 die of the road, about thirty feet high, once surround- 
 ed by five small towers, two of which are still in 
 good preservation. This is the tomb of the Horatii 
 and Curiatii; I asked some questions about it of a 
 young peasant who met me, but he seemed to have 
 no knowledge whatever of its history. « 
 
 Just beyond, we entered the town of Albano, which 
 stands upon the top of a long gentle hill. The broad 
 street descending toward the north, was bounded by 
 high garden walls, beyond which were many tall ruins of 
 different forms, surrounded by trees, and half covered 
 with green shrubs and vines. Before us was seen a 
 vast plain, bounded on the right by ridges of the Ap^ 
 pennines; and in front, at the distance of thirty miles, 
 part of the same chain was seen, but it was of so light 
 a blue, that it could hardly be distinguished from the 
 sky. Such a sight was very agreeable, after having 
 travelled so long among the hills, where we had seen 
 no habitations, except those in dark, ancient towns j 
 and few signs of cultivation beside the groves of olives, 
 which half covered the hills. On the plain below us 
 we hoped to see something of the deep, fertile soil, 
 the vineyards and the gardens of that delightful coun- 
 try in the vicinity of Naples : but f started, when, on 
 running over large tracts vvith my eyes, I could dis-^ 
 cover no signs of cultivation, nor of inhabitants. 1 
 looked more narrowly; but the same undulating sur- 
 face stretched off to a great distance, and neither 
 town nor cottage could be found — not an enclosure, 
 not a tree, not a single moving thing. On the left, 
 the plain seemed to be boundless, extending so far 
 toward the west, that it lost every irregularity of sur- 
 face, assumed the appearance of water, and reached 
 to the horizon, so that I mistook it for the sea. A soli- 
 dary square tower, dilapidated and deserted, stood 
 
 27 
 
210 I^GAD TO ROME. 
 
 here and there; and a double row of old tombs 
 stretched out before us, in a straight line, to the mid- 
 dle of the plain, fourteen or fifteen miles. This was 
 the Appian Way — and looking critically beyond the 
 last -of the tombs, we saw against the light, distant 
 momntains, the dome of St. Peter's, and the towers 
 and cupolas of Rome. The sight was new and unex- 
 pected to my friend as well as to myself What his 
 thoughts were I do not know ; he instantly ceased 
 talking, and looked steadfastly before him a long time 
 in perfect silence. 
 
 How unlike is such a scene as this, to the first view 
 of one of our American cities ; and how different the 
 train of thoughts it introduces to the mind ! Instead 
 of the cheerful and exhilarating sight of a savage wil- 
 derness retreating before the progress of a free and 
 enlightened society, and a new continent assuming the 
 aspect of fertility and beauty, under the influence of 
 an enterprising population, and a generous form of. 
 government ; taking a noble stand before the world, 
 and showing an example which many a nation might 
 think itself blest to follow, even at an humble dis- 
 tance : here we have the poor remains of that mighty 
 city — the cradle and the grave of an empire so long 
 triumphant on earth — now dwindling away before the 
 wide-spread desolation which surrounds it, and shrink- 
 ing back upon itself, as if for dread of an invisible 
 destroyer. Accustomed to the fertility and beauty of ■ 
 our own luxuriant meadows, and the thick foliage 
 which covers our mountains, the campagna seemed . 
 to my eyes as dreary as if but lately wasted by the bar- 
 barians ; but the farther we proceeded, the better did 
 we realize the melancholy truth, that the soil has long 
 lost its vital principle, and, alas ! that it is most defi- 
 cient of all in things of human mould. 
 
ROAD TO ROME. 211 
 
 *————" Age, thou art chang'd ! 
 Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods — 
 When passM there by an age, since the great floods 
 But it Was famed of more than of one man ?" 
 
 It is a terrible thing to be. like ancient Rome, expo- 
 sed to the full force of malediction — to the fatal blasting 
 of those ancient prophecies, which we read on the page 
 of the sacred Scriptures, and tremble at their import, 
 though so far removed from the objects at which thej 
 were directed. This is the first of those solemn scenes 
 my eyes have ever explored. — Ah! how has Rome, 
 imperial Rome, withered under the irresistible bolts of 
 heaven, and how deeply is she seared and scarred with 
 the long delayed but inevitable blows! 
 
 It is a melancholy ride to the city. The Appian Way 
 is no longer travelled ; and the road, which turns off 
 to the right, passes through a dreary desert, without 
 any other signs of men than a kw old towers, and the 
 
 still more ancient remains of Roman architecture. In 
 
 « 
 
 many places the surface was scattered with broken 
 bricks and marbles; and the road was cut through 
 strata formed of the ruins of dilapidated buildings. 
 Long lines of aqueducts began to appear, extending 
 from various points among the mountains towards the 
 centre of the plain, and terminating at Rome. In many 
 places they have fallen down, and a noble line of 
 arches, sometimes reaching several miles from the 
 mountains almost to the spot you stand upon, terminates 
 as suddenly as if it had been swallowed up by an earth- 
 quake, and leaves an overhanging mass of bricks and 
 clusters of ivy, Miy or sixty feet from the ground. The 
 next stretches into the city, with its smooth, well 
 turned arches supporting the old water channel in 
 a just and unvarying descent, and striding by, likf» 
 a giant, over their regular surface. 
 
212 BO AD TO ROME. 
 
 We Stopped at the gate of St. John, which is modem, 
 though the wall is ancient ; and when oUr passports 
 had been examined, were presented with printed orders, 
 requiring us to appear at the police-office within fortj- 
 eight hours, on pain of being considered as spies. The 
 magnificence of the city began immediately to open 
 upon us ; for we had hardly passed the gate when we 
 found ourselves in front of the church of St. John in the 
 Lateran, second only to St. Peter's, with an Egyptian 
 obelisk standing near it, almost an hundred feet high, 
 made of a single block of granite, and brought from 
 the ruins of Thebes. Having gone through a few 
 streets, we passed the Colosseum, almost stupified with 
 its overwhelming size ; and soon after, entering the 
 midst of the city, reached the Corso. This is a fine 
 street, lined with palaces and other large buildings^ 
 where, instead of the thick crowds and busy bustle of 
 Naples, we met only a few of the inhabitants, and a 
 large p|-oportion of them had the deliberate gait, and 
 the reflecting countenances of antiquaries, artists, and 
 amateurs. 
 
 We were obliged to repair first to the custom-house^ 
 the front of which is partly supported by eleven ancient 
 fluted Corinthian columns, thirty-six feet high, with an 
 architrave much worn by the elements : the remains 
 of the temple of M. A. Antoninus. Here our baggage 
 was examined, with more or less scrutiny according 
 to the fees which the officers received ; and, having bid 
 adieu to the English woman, her husband, and little 
 boy, and to all our other fellow-travellers, even without 
 excepting the Tuscan and the German, Mr. P. and 
 myself were soon congratulating each other on the 
 termination of ouf journey in very comfortable lodgings 
 at the Swiss hotel. 
 
ROME, 213 
 
 Rome, — February 8. I can hardly tell what were my 
 feelings this morning, when I awoke from a placid but 
 bewildering dream, to the sensation of a frame exhila- 
 rated by repose, after a recent, fatiguing journey, and 
 to the consciousness of having at length, beyond all 
 contradiction, arrived in Rome. The only light which 
 then entered my chamber, was admitted transversely 
 through a glass door at the opposite end, opening upon 
 a little balcony, which overhung a retired court-yard, 
 known only to a few flowering shrubs, and a little 
 bird or two, their favourites, unless indeed the ghosts 
 of the departed do sometimes return at night to Rome. 
 There was a brightness and purity in the light, which 
 proved that it had been shed from a clear and serene 
 morning sky : and while it showed our travelling bag- 
 gage as it had been hastily thrown in a heap upon 
 the floor, as if to recal the fatigues and trials of our 
 journey, it spread its mild beams over the foreign, and 
 somewhat antiquated decorations of the apartment, re- 
 ducing every thing to a tone of quiet harmony, corres- 
 ponding with the tranquillity which reigned without, and 
 seemed to pervade the whole city. 
 
 When breakfast was announced, we found thirty or 
 forty persons '^«sembling at table, who were foreigners, 
 from various countries of Europe, as was easily inferred 
 from their difference of dress and language. The 
 principal part were Englishmen, of all grades and pre- 
 tensions : some with the careless, leisurelyair of bache- 
 lors half-naturalized in Italy, and others with the dusty 
 coats and hurried motions of unsettled travellers. 
 Frantz's house, although denominated the " Swiss ho- 
 tel," is the principal resort for strangers of all nations ; 
 and the prices, as well as the accommodations, are 
 graduated according to the scale of more northerly 
 latitudes. 
 
214 ROME. 
 
 On inquiry we found a note from my countrymeii^ 
 which served as a clue to the retired and pleasant 
 apartments of which they had already taken possession. 
 Very fortunately for me, they had made reference to my 
 arrival, although the unexpected delays of our journey 
 had given rise to some anxious reflections, concerning 
 the mountains and banditti of Terracina. A glance 
 convinced me that some one had directed the arrange- 
 ments who had much more rational ideas concerning 
 the comforts of life than most Italian house-keepers I 
 had yet met with ; and while I observed that in warm 
 weather we might have access to a balcony as secluded 
 as that at the Swiss hotel, it did not escape me that our 
 parlour was spread with a coarse carpet, and furnished 
 with a fire-place, with a generous supply of dry wood, 
 and a bundle of reeds twisted with withered vines, to 
 light them at a moment's warning. Indeed, so much 
 does our fire-side resemble those distant ones, with 
 which our hearts are still familiar, that we often fancy 
 a party of our friends somewhere near at hand, and start 
 to find ourselves in Rome. One of my companions, 
 who may emphatically be styled the traveller^ seems 
 to enter fully into the comforts of our temporary home, 
 by comparing it with the inconveniences and trials he 
 has met among various nations in both hemispheres ; 
 while the other will allow nothing more, than that he 
 should be content if he could but once look in the face 
 of his far-distant wife, and take for a moment his two 
 little ones upon his knees. Every man feels a cord 
 attaching him to his country, but, as our nautical friend 
 H would have said, his is three-stranded. 
 
 We have made a pilgrimage to St. Peter's, but my 
 prominent feeling is that my ideas want organizing, and 
 I have not the courage to write a word on that, or any 
 other subject. Indeed, I am so convinced of the inade- 
 
ROMs:. 215 
 
 quacy of my language, that I have over and over de- 
 termined to do nothing more than what my occasional 
 plan requires : to enter the date in my journal every 
 evening, and if possible, the names of the places I have 
 visited. I hope a little habit may wear off the first im- 
 pressions of Rome, which are great and highly inte- 
 resting, yet varying, unsettled, and on the whole very 
 unsatisfactory. 
 
 Rome, — February 8. The weather was again fine, 
 and the mild beauty of the morning seemed to chide 
 delay ; so I set out at an early hour, in company with 
 my English friend, to commence the tour of the city. 
 Having furnished ourselves with a map of Rome, and a 
 volume of a " Travellers' Guide," containing a copious 
 description of the most ancient scites, we directed our 
 course towards the Palatine hill. On the way, our 
 s^ttention was often attracted by various objects of taste, 
 both ancient and modern, some of which we immedi- 
 ately recognised without referring to our book : but of 
 these it will be more proper to speak on another occa- 
 sion. We were anxious, in our study of Rome, to fol- 
 low the order of time ; and hastened toward the Pala- 
 tine, not content until we should stand on the very spot 
 where Romulus began to lay the foundation of this once 
 mighty city. 
 
 After a walk of nearly a mile and a half through 
 the Corso, from near the Spanish square at the foot 
 of the Pincian hill, across the old Campus Martius, we 
 crossed a part of the Capitoline hill, through a narrow 
 dirty lane. We now suddenly found ourselves in an 
 open tract of ground, about half a mile long, and of 
 a narrow oblong shape, stretching before us toward 
 the south-east ; traversed indeed by two or three 
 rows of short trees, and nearly surrounded by build- 
 ings and cultivated grounds, but left to run entirely 
 waste, and serving no purpose but that of a thorough- 
 
216 ROME. 
 
 fare. On the right, and in front, it was irregularly 
 bounded by several hills, probably once of gentle 
 ascent, but now partly broken by precipices near 
 their highest level, as if artificially cut round to faci- 
 litate their defence in some long past age. On the 
 left, was a broken line of large edifices, which pre- 
 sented such a confusion of ancient and modern archi- 
 tecture, that it was impossible to tell what to think 
 of them : — ^tasteless modern brick walls, patching out 
 the remains of ancient fabrics, which still retained the 
 impaired honours of the deeply sculptured frieze, and 
 ranges of magnificent but weather-beaten columns. 
 At a second survey, the eye might observe the waste 
 soil excavated in various places, as if for hidden trea- 
 sure ; and here and there a cluster of two or three 
 columns, or a single one standing at a melancholy dis- 
 tance from its fellows, as if removed to meditate over 
 the destruction of some incomparable structure, of 
 which it was now the only memorial. Close at hand 
 on the right, was something resembling a tall gateway, 
 of hewn stone, richly ornamented with sculptured devi- 
 ces, and standing in the midst of a circular excavation, 
 which had been carried to the depth of nearly twenty 
 feet, to reach the level of its foundation. So familiarly 
 did many of these objects strike my eye, particularly 
 those immediately around me, that it was hardly neces- 
 sary to decipher " P. P. Optimis fortissimisq," &c. on 
 the Triumphal Arch, or "Div. Antonino et Faustina. 
 S. C." (fee. on the entablature supported by the near- 
 est columns, to realize that I was in the Roman forum, 
 and to claim a closer kindred with the silent language 
 of ancient Rome, than I can ever feel for any thing in 
 the modern city. 
 
 We easily learnt that the hill on the western side 
 was the Palatine : and hastening across the interve* 
 ning space, which presented no obstacles to a conve-^ 
 
ROME. 217 
 
 nient traverse, except such as were formed by exca- 
 vations and masses of broken marble, we were soon 
 mounting towards the top, along a narrow road shut 
 in by the walls of vineyards. The materials of which 
 these walls were composed, were in perfect keeping 
 with every thing around us : for bits of broken ancient 
 amphorae were mingled with shapeless stones, dug 
 from the bosom of the hill ; and these, in turn, with 
 blocks of marble, and the mutilated remains of sculp- 
 ture, which had aided in the construction of the 
 splendid edifices that had successively occupied and 
 mingled with the soil. And it seemed a study of a 
 new and instructive character — a science which might 
 tolerate the name of historical geology — to contem- 
 plate this confused assemblage of memorials : once 
 integral portions of the palaces of the kings, the 
 consuls, and the Caesars, now picked up so at hazard 
 on the ground, thrown so carelessly together, and devo- 
 ted to so ignoble a purpose. 
 
 A short walk, still between vineyard walls which 
 completely confined the view, brought us to a convent, 
 where the road terminated. This spot was too far 
 south for our purpose, and in order to find one which 
 should overlook the Forum, we returned to a gate we 
 had passed in ascending the hill; and after knocking, 
 like Bunyan's pilgrims at the gate of the Interpreter, 
 we were admitted by two gay peasant girls, who had 
 evidently been running from a good distance to open 
 the gate, and were much disappointed at discovering 
 that, instead of some of their friends, we were only 
 a brace of travellers in search of ruins. We were 
 allowed, though with a bad grace, to traverse the 
 Farnesian Gardens, so called after Pope Paul IIF. 
 who laid out all this northern end of the Palatine hill 
 into pleasure grounds, and built a fine edifice for an en- 
 
 28 
 
218 ROME. 
 
 trance, facing the Forum. The rustic architecture here, 
 as well as the fountains, statues and flights of steps, 
 wore a striking air of magnificence neglected ; for the 
 place has been nearly deserted since the death of its 
 former possessor. That is indeed a recent event 
 for this neighbourhood; and though the grounds 
 retain few appearances of an ornamental garden, yet 
 the less perishable objects are in tolerably good pre- 
 servation, for Paul III. lived in the sixteenth century, 
 only a little while before the Landing at Plymouth ! 
 
 Our path up the hill was the main alley through the 
 vineyards. The ground was perfectly bare, excepting 
 only the leafless vines, and the slight frames and sticks 
 by which they were supported. The soil had at first 
 the appearance of being thickly scattered with gra- 
 vel ; but this proved to be owing to vast quantities of 
 bricks, marble, stones, and pottery, broken into small 
 bits, and mingled by a long course of cultivation. It 
 seemed no very incredible thing, when we reflected 
 what piles of buildings had in former ages occupied the 
 ground : for the earth was filled with an indiscriminate 
 and incalculable mass of ruins. Here one naturally 
 thinks of subterranean apartments, and undiscovered 
 treasures hid beneath the ground ; for in a place so 
 teeming with memorials of former times, a stranger 
 thinks he could not rest until the dark interior is ex- 
 posed to view ; and quite unsatisfied with what he 
 sees upon the surface, feels that he would gladly 
 lend his strength to lay open the foundations of the 
 immortal Mons Palatinus, and search out the myste- 
 rious cause of its fame. A little boy who followed 
 us proposed to show us the baths of Julia, which he 
 described as the remains of some rich apartments 
 not long ago discovered beneath the surface, and the 
 only remains of antiquity in this part of the hill which 
 
ROME. 219 
 
 have escaped destruction and removal. The rooms 
 are so dark as to require a torch; and though the 
 walls still retain some traces of their ancient gilding, 
 the place is both damp and disagreeable. 
 
 As there was no fence, wall, nor other interruption 
 on this end of the hill, we easily found a point which 
 looked towards the Capitol; but on arriving at the 
 brow, the ground proved to be so broken that caution 
 was necessary to keep from slipping into deep 
 holes, half overgrown with shrubs, which threatened 
 the loss of limbs, if not of life. For here was an im- 
 mense pile of ruinous brick buildings, which, standing 
 against the foot of the hill, and abutting against its pre- 
 cipitous side, rose as high as the spot where we stood, 
 and had probably been originally carried to a much 
 greater height. To judge from what remained, the 
 apartments below, into which we had well nigh slip- 
 ped, must have been of a magnificent size, and pro- 
 bably fifty or sixty feet high, yet we could find no men- 
 tion made of them in our books. 
 
 Several churches were below us, and one of them 
 on the left, called the church of St. Theodore, has 
 been formed of an ancient brick temple to Romulus 
 and Remus, on the spot where those founders of the 
 city are said to have been exposed when infants, and 
 nursed by the wolf 
 
 The Capitoline hill was now opposite, and at the 
 distance of about a quarter of a mile. Imagining for 
 a moment the buildings removed with which it is 
 covered, there remains the irregular hill where the 
 Sabines were stationed ; and from this spot where 
 we stand, might Romulus himself have scowled on 
 their habitations, and watched their motions with a 
 jealous eye. If we are disposed, we may agree that 
 here was perhaps one of the corners of his mud-walled 
 
220 ROME. 
 
 city, for among the many learned conjectures which 
 have been made on this subject, it would be strange if 
 some respectable authority could not be found to 
 countenance this or almost any other opinion. Fol- 
 lowing with the eye the line of the Capitoline hill 
 to the left, it terminates with a rocky precipice 
 forty or Mty feet high, looking towards the Tiber. 
 The spot, I believe, was not visible to us, on account 
 of some interposed buildings; but it is proper to 
 speak of it in this place, to give a clearer idea of the 
 Tarpeian Rock, for such in fact it is. 
 
 It has been remarked by others that the Romans, as 
 early as the days of some of the first kings, seem to have 
 acted on a belief that the city was to be immortal; 
 for there are several specimens of their architecture 
 still remaining, which are all remarkable for the 
 strength and solidity of their structure. One of these 
 was now directly cnposite, and in full view : the ancient 
 foundation of the Capitol. The superstructure is mo- 
 dern, and an indifferent, or rather a mean building. 
 The foundation is composed of large blocks of trave- 
 tine^ or limestone from the other side of the river, 
 laid together without mortar, and retaining their posi- 
 tions, though much roughened by long exposure to 
 the action of the weather. This style of building was a 
 transition indeed from the mud wall and straw palace 
 of Romulus: and one accustomed to speculate on 
 the progress of society, and to explain the interesting 
 phenomena it has often presented, could scarcely wish 
 for a more favourable situation for the indulgence of 
 his taste. But this contrast is not greater than that 
 between the foundation of the Capitol and yonder 
 remains of the temple of Jupiter Tonans; nor is the 
 manly taste of the early kings at a farther remove 
 from that of the Augustan age, than those graceful 
 
ROME. 221 
 
 Corinthian columns, raised by Augustus himself, from 
 the doting childishness of the modern Capitol. Neither 
 are these few objects the only ones calculated to lead 
 the mind to such a train of comparisons ; every thing 
 within the compass of our view, has a direct relation 
 to one of these three periods in the history of the 
 place, and calls them up to the mind, with a distinct- 
 ness and interest which it is difficult not to feel, and 
 certainly impossible to express. The foundation, the 
 triumph, or the degradation of Rome, is written on 
 every object before us, and quite intelligibly even on 
 the pebbles beneath our feet; and the sublimity of the 
 feelings excited by the contemplation, is proportioned 
 to the range taken by the mind in grasping the crowd 
 of great ideas connected with each, which it succes- 
 sively relinquishes, but to return again and again to 
 contemplate them anew. 
 
 Nature has not distinguished the Capitoline, or even 
 the Palatine, by any ascendancy of height or pecu- 
 liarity of form : innumerable hills scattered all over 
 the Campagna, offered equal advantages for conve- 
 nience and defence ; and its present desolation, when 
 regarded in connection with this fact, is the severest 
 comment on the fickleness of fortune. The upper 
 part of the Forum, in the valley just below, was for^ 
 merly occupied by the Curtian Lake, in which one of 
 the first kings was well nigh destroyed in fleeing from 
 the Sabines ; but its water was afterwards all dried 
 up, and the spot where the enemy were checked and 
 the king's life preserved is still commemorated, in the 
 opinion of some, by yonder three tall columns, said to 
 be the remains of a splendid temple erected in after 
 times to Jupiter Stator. But the levelling hand of time 
 has once more reduced the scene to an appearance 
 almost as unvarying and dreary as that of the wide 
 
222 HOME. 
 
 spread and useless Cur dan Lake ; for the wrecks ol 
 statues and honorary columns, temples and senate 
 houses, dashed in pieces and scattered all around, 
 now form a mass of ruins which conceal the ancient 
 surface, and the streets and pavements by which it is 
 still divided, while they present of themselves only 
 a melancholy sight of hopeless confusion. 
 
 At no great distance, we reached the south-western 
 brow of the hill, and were presented with a more ex- 
 tended prospect, over the Tiber and its banks, with the 
 long Janiculine Hill rising from the opposite side of the 
 river. But the confusion of our minds was only increas- 
 ed by this view, and the necessity of traversing the city 
 and visiting every important object in detail, seemed 
 greater than before. Our map however showed the 
 form of the Circus Maximus, delineated near the foot 
 of the Palatine on that side ; and a large piece of 
 level ground was with some difficulty distinguishable 
 in that position, in the form of an elongated horse- 
 shoe about half a mile in extent, though the walls 
 have long since been levelled with the ground, and 
 the soil cultivated as a vineyard, except where the 
 ancient foundations still peep a little way above the 
 surface. Here then was the spot so familiar to our 
 school-boy recollections, where Romulus decoyed the 
 Sabine fair within the power of his little army, and 
 where afterwards were displayed the most splendid 
 Roman games, before a crowd of spectators that 
 would people all the habitations of modern Rome ; 
 and yonder balcony on the left, among the ruins of the 
 palace of the Caesars, is the place whence the signals 
 were given for commencing the races and the combats. 
 
 On our way back, across the Farnesian Gardens 
 and down the hill, we caught in succession a view of 
 different parts of the Forum, which we were better 
 
ROME 223 
 
 able to consider in reference to their history, since the 
 brief but delightful hour we had devoted to the unin- 
 terrupted study of the place. When we reached the 
 great terrace in front of the gardens and on the 
 declivity of the hill, the eastern side of the Forum 
 was seen directly opposite us ; its boundary still 
 marked, as has been already mentioned, by the re- 
 mains of several ancient buildings occurring here and 
 there. Beginning on the left hand and at the foot of 
 the Capitoline, they are in the following order : the 
 Temple of Saturn, or perhaps only its site, and those 
 of Antoninus and Faustina, of Remus, of Peace, and 
 of Venus and Rome. 
 
 As we left the vineyard again by the gate, and 
 descended the hill into the Forum, a sudden turn to 
 the right brought us to the half-ruinous Triumphal 
 Arch of Titus, which stands very near the south 
 western limit of the ancient Forum. It is built with 
 solidity, of large blocks of marble, and in the form of 
 a simple gateway ; but the deep channels worn into its 
 surface by time, and the immediate historical connec- 
 tion it has with the overthrow of Jerusalem, have 
 imparted to it a moral grandeur which even superior 
 antiquity or magnitude alone could never possess. 
 Those who have read the Scriptures from their 
 infancy, and been taught to mourn with the saints and 
 prophets of Israel, over the desolation of the city of 
 David and the house of God, can never approach un- 
 affected and regard this monument of heathen tri- 
 umph. As we entered the shelter of the arch, we 
 trod the stones of the old Sacred Way, which lay yet 
 undisturbed under our feet : probably the same pave- 
 ment that Titus and his whole train passed over, in 
 their triumphant march to the Capitol, when they 
 brougbt the spoils of the Holy Temple, and a large 
 
224 ROME. 
 
 company of Jewish captives. On the right are seen, 
 beautifully sculptured in relief, the seven golden can- 
 dlesticks, the silver trumpet, the table of shew-bread, 
 and the book of the law, all borne by priests marching 
 in order; and on the other side is the emperor, in his 
 triumphal car, drawn by four horses, harnessed abreast, 
 and represented with the highest skill of the sculptor. 
 The chariot is accompanied by the Genius of the 
 Senate, and Victory, bearing a crown and a branch of 
 palm from Palestine. This record of history, contain- 
 ing more details than I have enumerated, still speaks to 
 the eye and to the mind in language as clear and 
 impressive as when it was first erected. But the 
 unyielding spirit of the captives retains to this day all 
 its pride and sternness. There are many Jews now in 
 Rome, the descendants of the prisoners of Titus ; but 
 it is said that not a son of Israel has ever passed this 
 detested spot, and trodden this part of the Sacred 
 Way, since the day of his triumph. They still delight 
 to trace back their pedigree to those whose humilia- 
 tion they have inherited : while, it is said, not a man 
 in being can establish a clear and undoubted claim to 
 the blood of any ancient Roman family. 
 
 From this place, which was called Summa Sacra Via, 
 or the highest part of the Sacred Way, the pavement de- 
 scends before us towards the south, for nearly a quarter 
 of a mile to the Colosseum. A little out of sight on our 
 right, and just round the base of the Palatine hill, was the 
 Arch of Constantine ; between that and the Colosseum 
 or Amphitheatre of Titus, and at a greater distance 
 than either, was seen the Coelian Hill, almost surround- 
 ed by a broken wall of ruined edifices, not formed for 
 defence but for splendour ; whose plan, and whose pos- 
 sessors are long since lost in oblivion. On the left 
 was an open tract of ground, adjoining the Forum, and 
 
ROME. 
 
 225 
 
 extending quite to the Colosseum. The surface was 
 broken bj fragments from ancient buildings, and deep 
 excavations, which were so frequent as to render the 
 ground in many places impassable. Near us had been 
 dug out the foundations of the ancient Reservoir, 
 which supplied the Amphitheatre with water, to float 
 the navies which there performed their mimic sea- 
 fights ; and several trenches, branching out from this 
 great excavation, reached to within a few feet of the 
 spot where we stood. Misshapen blocks of stone and 
 marble, and large, mutilated remnants of sculpture 
 lay about us, just as they had been thrown out by the 
 workmen, the most valuable having been removed to 
 the public or private museums of the city. 
 
 Here was the site of Nero's Golden House — an edi- 
 fice, or rather an immense assemblage of edifices, which 
 required the burning of this part of Rome to make 
 room for them, and which eclipsed every thing that 
 had before been called magnificent. It extended from 
 near this place, far to the left across the end of the 
 Forum, to the Esquiline Hill, including in its way the 
 Temple of Peace, which formed its vestibule, and yon- 
 der ruins beyond, now belonging to the Baths of Titus. 
 All this waste tract of ground before us was divided 
 into gardens and pleasure grounds, surrounded on all 
 sides by different parts of this gigantic structure, and 
 filled with rare plants and animals from various parts 
 of the world. The Colosseum occupies the place of 
 the great fish-pond ; and if we may believe Suetonius, 
 the splendour* and costhness of the decorations fully 
 equalled the extent of the " Golden House." His 
 account, replenished with an enumeration of theatres, 
 baths, and three almost endless colonnades ; a dining 
 hall from whose revolving dome roses were showered 
 npon the guests ; a statue one hundred feet high in 
 
 29 
 
226 ROME. 
 
 the vestibule ; together with the magnificent plan^ 
 formed by the lunatic emperor, for bringing water to 
 his baths from the Lake of Avernus and Baiae, as well 
 as for making a canal from Baiae to Ostium — all this 
 seems incredible : or rather it would seem incredible 
 but for the vast ruins now before our eyes. If men 
 could rear such piles as these ruins denote, and 
 such a mountain of stone as the Colosseum, why 
 should they not be able to perform the extravagant 
 wishes even of Nero himself? When human power 
 has reached this point, where shall the limit be 
 placed ? 
 
 The Via Sacra was the principal street in Rome. 
 It was one of the great passages leading into the Fo- 
 rum, and was still left open when the Golden House 
 was built. This was the way by which the priests pro- 
 ceeded to the Capitol to consult the auguries, and tri- 
 umphing generals to the temple of Jupiter Pharetrius 
 to deposit their spoils. Along this pavement it was that 
 the poet Horace was walking, when he was accosted 
 by the impertinent fellow he describes in one of his 
 satires, so much to the taste of school-boy days and of 
 riper years : 
 
 " Ibam forte Via Sacra, sicut meus est mos, 
 Nescio quid meditans nugarum, totus in illis : 
 Accurrit quidam notus mihi nomine tantum, 
 Arreptaque manu ; Quid agis, dulcissirae, rerum r" 
 
 [ I was walking in the Sacred Way, according to my custom, and thinking 
 about some trifle, I know not what, when I was overtaken by one I hardly 
 knew by name, who caught me by the hand ; " Ah, my dear friend ! What 
 are you doing here ?" — &c.] 
 
 This incident happened, these lines were written in 
 the Augustan age; when Rome was at the summit of 
 her glory, in power, learning and arts — when her influ- 
 ence was acknowledged throughout all countries, and , 
 
ROME. 22T 
 
 she was confessed the mistress of the world. There 
 was then an obscure island far in the north, which was 
 regarded as the most distant point of her dominion, 
 and of creation ; deep sunk in barbarism, and fit only 
 to be contemned and enslaved. But what changes 
 had centuries produced ! A native of that same island, 
 with an inhabitant of a country a thousand leagues be- 
 yond, were now standing here among heaps of ruins, 
 having renounced much of the comfort and security of 
 civihzation to reach the place, lamenting at the degen- 
 eracy, nay the misery of Rome, and wishing that the 
 moral, religious, and civil blessings of their own coun- 
 tries might find their way to this; that the Romans 
 might be taught to understand, and then enabled to 
 obtain the elevated character, and the civil and reli- 
 gious liberty of Great Britain and of America. We 
 stepped from the pavement, to admire the remains of 
 several fine columns of Egyptian granite; and while 
 remarking that although they were three or four feet 
 in diameter, and but recently dug out of the ground, 
 they still retained their original hardness, and even the 
 glassy polish of their surfaces, our ears were assailed 
 by the petitions of two or three poor old women, who 
 followed us round among these ruins of splendour, re- 
 gardless of what attracted our admiration, and intent 
 only on obtaining a little money : for Rome abounds 
 more with memorials of the dead, than with food for 
 the living; and what is it to these poor creatures that 
 their ancestors were powerful and magnificent ? They 
 themselves are beggars, and their children clamorous 
 for bread. 
 
 From the arch of Titus towards the north, or north- 
 east, the Sacred Way is supposed to have proceeded 
 by a gentle descent, and traversed rather obliquely 
 the length of the Forum, to the arch of Severus, and 
 
228 ROME. 
 
 the foot of the Capitoline hill ; but it is now so deeply 
 covered by the earth, that no part of it can be disco- 
 vered vi^ithout digging to a considerable depth. Nearly 
 opposite to us on the other side of the Forum, were 
 the remains of the Temple of Peace, v^^hich are sup- 
 posed to have formed for the time the vestibule of 
 Nero's house ; and here we were struck with astonish- 
 ment, having never seen such wide and noble arches. 
 They are, we supposed, about eighty feet in height; 
 yet the whole fabric is of bricks, broad and square it 
 is true, yet hardly thicker than a finger. Even the 
 arches are turned and locked with them, and incredi- 
 ble as it must appear to those accustomed only to our 
 own perishable constructions, the whole is generally 
 very well preserved, and seems capable of enduring 
 the storms for a thousand years to come. The floor 
 of the temple is still preserved, as well as the bases of 
 several immense columns, and the foundation of the 
 steps which led up from the street. The ground has 
 been excavated in front of the temple; and, at the 
 depth of about twenty feet, is laid bare the ancient 
 pavement, which resembles that of the Sacred Way 
 and indeed all Roman roads, in having the stones 
 unhewn, of a size too large to be removed by carria- 
 ges and resting on a solid substratum. 
 
 The church of St. Adrian stands a little way off 
 towards the Colosseum, among the ruins of a double 
 temple, by some attributed to the Sun and Moon, by 
 others to Venus and Rome, and by others still to Isis 
 and Serapis. On the other side, and towards the Capi- 
 toline, is the little circular brick temple of Remus, or 
 Romulus and Remus, from which was removed a bro- 
 ken marble pavement containing a mutilated map of 
 the ancient city ; and still farther on, we hastened to 
 examine the beautifnl portico of the temple of Antoni- 
 
ROME. 229 
 
 nus and Faustina. The ten columns still remain in 
 their places, and have escaped unbroken the ravages 
 of time, showing only the slighter injuries produced by 
 the elements. Each column consists of a single shaft 
 of light-greenish marble, much admired in ancient 
 times. Several of them were arranged according to 
 the order in which they were dug from the quarry, for 
 veins of a more perishable nature than the rest of the 
 stone, showed themselves by corresponding channels 
 worn nearly horizontally at a great height from the 
 ground. The frieze is covered with griffins beautifully 
 sculptured, and the entablature bears the ancient in- 
 scription ; yet in the rear is erected a modern church, 
 and men enter by this noble portico, and kneel before 
 the pictures of Saint Lorenzo, to whom the building is 
 dedicated. The temple of Romulus and Remus has 
 also been converted to a Christian use, and received 
 the names of Saints Cosmo and Damiano ; but the re- 
 maining arches of the temple of Peace have been left 
 exposed to the sunshine and rain, hallowed however 
 in the eyes of the people by a small cross elevated 
 at the top, among the shrubbery with which it is 
 crowned, to preserve them from dilapidation ; though 
 cattle often wander to its shade from the Forum, (which 
 in Italian bears the name of the Cow-Pasture,) and lie 
 quietly down in the inmost recess of the temple. 
 
 But it is high time that I should render the merited 
 acknowledgments to the books and map which we took 
 with us this morning, as a guide to these interesting 
 objects, and from which with little labour, though per- 
 haps not without an appearance of more profound 
 learning than we possess, we gleaned the various par- 
 ticulars detailed above, concerning the history of the 
 ruins in this part of the city. Our excursions about 
 Naples, and our journey hither, had indeed given us 
 
230 l^OME. 
 
 some degree of familiarity with Roman remains; yet 
 here we must have felt entirely at a loss, but for the 
 sensible and pertinent remarks of our intelligent author. 
 Under his direction we may traverse the city with ease 
 and delight. Every thing has been rendered plain and 
 satisfactory to-day, except indeed in a few instances 
 when he has expressed his opinions on disputed points 
 with a little too much self-confidence, and in a style de- 
 cidedly dictatorial, and then we have caught ourselves 
 unconsciously taking up the opposition, and smiled to 
 see how soon we were learning to fight him with his 
 own weapons, [n truth such a companion may soon 
 teach a traveller so much on some local and classical 
 points, that he will look upon himself with amazement, 
 and might pass with a superficial observer for a student 
 by profession, and one who has spent his life in a 
 library. 
 
 The remarks of this book concerning the Forum, may 
 be read many times with new interest on this spot ; and 
 every one will assent to the observation, that " there 
 was not a place more celebrated or more frequented 
 in the whole city." In the times of Romulus and some 
 of the other early kings, it was very contracted, ex- 
 tending only from the side of the temple of Antoninus 
 and Faustina, where we are standing, to the foot of the 
 Capitoline ; and yonder, where is now the church of 
 Saint Adrian, was the ancient bronze temple of Saturn, 
 which served as a safe and public deposit for the most 
 valuable property. Somewhere near that stood the 
 magnificent Palace of Emilia, built by the Consul Pau- 
 lus Emilius about half a century before our era, with 
 money sent from Gaul by Julius Caesar. Nearly west 
 of us and directly across the Sacred Way, at the spot 
 where it took the name of the Sacred Ascent, was 
 built the Arch of Fabius, erected by the censor of that 
 
KOME. 
 
 231 
 
 name, who also adorned it with shields taken from the 
 Allobrogi. Next came the Temple of Julius Caesar, 
 and then the new rostra, which extended almost to the 
 other side of the Forum, where stood the Temple of 
 Vesta, the repository of the sacred fire, on the site 
 now occupied by the church of Saint Mary the Libe- 
 rator. Thence, on the line northerly to the Capitoline, 
 the first was the temple of Castor and Pollux, to which 
 some refer those three beautiful columns standing to- 
 gether yonder unshaken by the hand of barbarians, 
 or the still more resistless power of time : their origi- 
 nal grace and majesty redoubled by the waste and 
 ruin around them. Next was the Comitium, an open 
 space elevated by a few steps above the Forum, con- 
 taining the Curia Hostilia, where the senate held their 
 sessions, and the pulpits for orators decorated with the 
 ancient beaks of ships. On the north side, under the 
 steep brow of the Capitoline Hill, and at the base of the 
 Capitol itself, was the street called Vicus Jugarius, 
 w^hich is now partly exposed to view by a trench, in 
 some places nearly twenty feet deep. The pavement 
 is still unbroken, but it has a steep descent, and is so 
 narrow that it must have been dark and inconvenient. 
 The only remains of edifices here, are the well known 
 columns of the temples to Jupiter Tonans, and the 
 Arch of Severus. 
 
 This enumeration of the principal buildings in the 
 Forum in ancient times, will be sufficient to give some 
 idea of its plan and appearance. It is quite unneces- 
 sary to enter at large into a list of the numerous and 
 splendid edifices with which it was ornamented at 
 subsequent periods; and it need only be added, that 
 the golden monument from which the various roads 
 were measured, was placed near the Capitol; and 
 that the middle of the Forum was devoted to nume- 
 
232 
 
 ROIVIE. 
 
 rous statues and honorary columns erected to indivi- 
 duals. Of these last a single one still remains ; on the 
 pedestal of which was discovered so late as 1813, an 
 inscription dedicating it to the Emperor Foca. Here 
 were held the meetings of the people for the elections 
 of civil and religious officers ; and here were heard 
 the addresses of all the ancient orators of Rome. It 
 seems indeed almost incredible that here should have 
 been weighed and determined so many of those 
 mighty events which crowd the history of the empire ; 
 yet these ruins are in accordance both with her mag- 
 nificence and her antiquity, and the very vegetation of 
 the Campo Vaccino is stinted by the dilapidated orna- 
 ments of the Roman Forum. 
 
 Whether these were the limits assigned to the Forum 
 in subsequent times, I frankly confess myself too ill- 
 informed to venture an opinion of my own. Our 
 author is quite sure this was the fact, in spite of the con- 
 trary assertions of " certain moderns." It is clear 
 however that others, either more or less learned than 
 himself, have extended it quite to the Arch of Titus ; 
 and on the strength of their authority, for my own 
 convenience, I have heretofore spoken of it in that 
 manner. 
 
 In searching out the remains of the Baths of Titus, 
 we got ourselves involved in not a little perplexity : 
 for though the distance from the Forum is small, the 
 ascent of the EsquiHne Hill on which they stand is so 
 much occupied with modern houses, high walls and 
 irregular streets, that it was rarely in our power to see 
 where we were going. The materials of which the 
 houses, the walls and the pavements were composed, 
 afforded sufficient evidence of our being still in a part 
 of the city which was very populous in ancient times : 
 for bits of amphorae, or earthen jars, bricks and 
 
ROME. 
 
 233 
 
 marble were interspersed abundantly among the rub- 
 bish of the slovenly modern masonry; and wherever 
 the declivity was unpaved, the rains had cut their chan- 
 nels into a deep mass of similar composition. It was 
 not uncommon to see a fragment of a column, plain or 
 fluted, planted before the door of a mean habitation, 
 or a ruined frieze or relievo mingled with ignoble 
 rocks that had never been quarried. In one place we 
 noticed the head of some nameless statue, fastened in 
 the cement of a garden wall, and staring on us with 
 its ghastly eye-balls ; and once I involuntarily started 
 on stepping upon a broken slab of marble in the 
 pavement, at seeing that well known inscription which 
 Cicero had taught us to venerate : " S. P. Q. R." — 
 for it had borne the record of one of the mighty de- 
 crees of the " Senate and People of Rome.'''' It is pow- 
 erless indeed at present, but methinks it is a melan- 
 choly thing to see such lofty majesty sunk down so 
 low ; and every passer-by must go on meditating 
 more intently upon ancient glory than upon present 
 degradation. 
 
 On the gate of a vineyard near the top of the hill we 
 observed these words : " Bagni de Tito," scrawled 
 with apiece of charcoal, and found it to be an entrance 
 to the place we sought, although we had passed the 
 same way twice or thrice before without seeing it. 
 A labourer admitted us with an ill grace, for there is 
 another entrance more public than this, and we found 
 ourselves in a field of several acres, covered with 
 vegetables and vines, just on the brow of the Esquiline. 
 The situation is commanding, and embraces part of the 
 Capitoline and Palatine hills, with an interrupted view 
 of the Forum in the valley between them ; and in front 
 overlooks the Aventine Mount, with the Colosseum, 
 rearing her immense walls just below us, as if to inter- 
 
 30 
 
234 :R0ME. 
 
 pose a rival bulk. The ground on which we stand is 
 rich with the recollections of antiquity ; and let us re- 
 joice that another interesting site is suffered to remain 
 unoccupied, and in a state corresponding with the humi- 
 lity to which time has reduced it — this is an appro- 
 priate condition for scenes like this, for cities like 
 Rome. 
 
 Our oracle mentions that the famous villa and 
 academy of Meccenas were situated on the Esquiline, 
 that his gardens occupied the grounds a little behind us, 
 and that the dwellings of his friends Propertius, Virgil, 
 and Horace were somewhere in the vicinity. Modern 
 magnificence should never encroach upon this spot : it 
 would strike a dismal discord with the edifices which 
 the imagination loves to rear on such a place ; for the 
 mind delights in a bold flight from these ashes 
 and ruins to the piles they once composed ; from 
 a half cultivated vineyard >o the field and gardens of 
 the ancient Mons Esquilinus, here scrupulously limited 
 and divided by powerful and jealous neighbours, and 
 there spread out and decorated by the hand of gene- 
 rous taste ; in short from a patch of kitchen vegeta- 
 bles to the parterres of Mecsenas, and the court-yard 
 and grass-plot of Virgil and Horace. 
 
 The poor labourer called to us as we w^alked on 
 towards the southern brow of the hill, to beware of our 
 steps, for we were already treading unconsciously over 
 the subterranean apartments of Titus's Baths ; and 
 yonder bush concealed a fracture in the roof of one 
 of them, which we might have approached without 
 his well-timed caution. The only remaining apart- 
 ments are those on the ground ; all the upper parts of 
 the structure having been entirely destroyed. Even 
 these remains lay unknown till the beginning of the 
 16th century, when they were cleared of the rubbish 
 
ROME. 235 
 
 which had washed in from the brow of the hill above, 
 and then the ancient and celebrated group of the Lao- 
 coon was discovered, with many other precious relics. 
 After this the ruins were neglected, and became again 
 filled with earth, and thus they remained until they 
 were lately cleared out by the French while they were 
 in possession of Rome. This edifice, although smaller 
 than either of the other two public baths whose re- 
 mains we are hereafter to see, viz. those of Diocletian 
 and Caracalla, still encloses a square of about a thou- 
 sand English feet, or nearly a quarter of a mile each 
 way. No part of the upper story is to be found, and 
 nothing remains but some of the apartments belonging 
 to the ground floor. 
 
 We were obHged to descend by a crooked course to 
 arrive at the entrance, which was shut from view even 
 at a little distance by great heaps of earth removed 
 from the interior. From behind one of these a man 
 made his appearance who offered to be our guide, and 
 first we followed him into several isolated rooms in the 
 wall, which are supposed to have served for shops, 
 from the number of amphorae, and other things found 
 in them. A quantity of dry paints of different colours 
 was still lying upon the floor and in broken vessels, 
 which we were told Sir Humphrey Davy has lately 
 analyzed, and found to be metallic. Through a 
 breach forced in the wall, we entered a succession of 
 passages, which led off from a spacious corridor, 
 injured indeed by long exposure to the dampness of 
 the ground, and shut out from every beam of day 
 light, yet glittering to the light of our torches with 
 remnants of the gold which once ornamented the 
 walls, and showing a fine arched ceiling above, when 
 our guide raised a light upon a long pole, about thirty 
 feet in height. Many damaged paintings were also to 
 
236 HOME. 
 
 he seen on the walls, of superior beauty and bright 
 colours ; and in some of the bathing rooms to which 
 these passages conducted, were the fragments of mar- 
 ble basins, and the old water channels. Some of the 
 apartments according to our torch bearer, were for 
 warming and cooling the body before and after 
 bathing ; for the plan adopted here was that imported 
 from Greece, and contained the various parts indi- 
 cated by the names Sudarium, Tepidarium, Calida- 
 ium, Octaedrum, &c. though our book says these were 
 all on the second-story. The re-opening of these ruins 
 afforded to the antiquaries with whom Rome must ever 
 abound, ample space to exert their talents ; and in no 
 instance have I seen such a display of antiquarian 
 learning — so intimate an acqaintance with the history, 
 manners and customs of former days, combined with 
 a minute knowledge of local subjects ; for in no in- 
 stance have I seen a case involving such a compli- 
 cation of different dates, obscure points of history and 
 indirect inferences. It is what might well be called, if 
 antiquarians had a technical language to express it, 
 a complicated case. Without mentioning the nume- 
 rous conjectures which have been started concerning 
 the plan of the second story, it will be sufficient to 
 communicate some idea of the intricacy of the subject 
 and of the sagacity with which it has been investigated, 
 briefly to repeat some of our cicerone's remarks. 
 
 He requested our attention to the structure of the 
 walls, while we were passing through the corridor. 
 We found them to consist of a mixed mass of mate- 
 rials; some of which had evidently been employed 
 in previous buildings, and some were large pieces of 
 earthen jars : indeed every thing indicated heedlessness 
 and haste. Several small chambers, which we soon 
 after entered, were evidently of a different date. The 
 
ROME. 237 
 
 walls stood at an awkward angle with those contigu- 
 ous, and were built with care and regularity, although 
 the bricks are thick and of a loose texture. But on 
 entering a long and narrow passage, we immediately 
 recognised the beautiful Roman brick work of the 
 best times — the broad, square bricks, close, hard and 
 thin, with a bright red colour and sharp edges — 
 which brought to mind the construction of the temples 
 of Peace and of Remus in the Forum, and many a ruin- 
 ous heap at Baiae and Pompeii. These walls were 
 evidently built before the degenerate days of Roman 
 architecture ; before permanency and real grandeur 
 began to give place to overgrown size and external 
 splendour. From this circumstance and various 
 others, this part of the building is presumed to have 
 belonged to the palace of Mecaenas. The small apart- 
 ments mentioned just before are supposed to be 
 the remains of Nero's Golden House ; the corridor 
 and passages are indubitably of still later date, and 
 the apartments to which they conducted, are all parts 
 of Titus's baths. To go round in the dark, and choose 
 out all the facts which lead to these conclusioiis, to 
 discuss them, and to draw rational inferences, was no 
 doubt a difficult task : but when the recapitulation 
 was thus made by the parrot's tongue of our cicerone, 
 the whole seemed to us perfectly obvious. 
 
 It is well known that many exquisite paintings were 
 found among these ruins, and that the graceful de- 
 signs of the numerous arabesques are studied by mo- 
 dern artists. In the long passage of Mecasnas's house, 
 the upper part of the walls, and the arched roof, which 
 are about thirty feet high, are decorated with small 
 pictures, containing groups of animals, men, and hea- 
 then gods, all represented with great spirit, and still pre- 
 serving the original brilliancy of their colours. In exa- 
 
238 ROME. 
 
 mining to find the domestic animals of antiquity, I wa^ 
 not a little surprised to see that neither the large grej^ 
 or cream coloured cattle I have so often met with, nor 
 the buflfalos which so abound on the marshes, were 
 any where to be seen ; but instead of them I disco- 
 vered several others of a moderate size, and black, 
 chesnut, or party-coloured— and 1 might almost say, 
 of the very breed most common in New England. 
 There was particularly one old milch-cow, with high 
 bones, and an honest crumpled horn, that might have 
 felt at home in any of our substantial farmers' yards ; 
 and it was strange to think that she had been driven 
 to pasture in Latin, and perhaps pounded in Rome, 
 With regard to the figures composing the various 
 groups of gods, goddesses, &c. they appeared to us 
 very finely drawn, although seen at such a disadvan- 
 tage in the dark ; and to merit the expressive and 
 beautiful terms repeatedly bestowed on them by the 
 guide : '^ graziosi, graziosissimi !" [graceful, extremely 
 graceful!] 
 
 Some distance without the square enclosed by the 
 baths, are the remains of the great reservoir by which 
 they were supplied with water. This is of itself a 
 large edifice, and consists of nine parallel corridors, 
 or great passages, from which branch off six smaller 
 ones at right angles. The w^alls are guarded with a 
 sort of plaster to a considerable height from the floor, 
 and the quantity of w^ater which they were capable 
 of containing must have been immense. 
 
 It should have been mentioned while speaking of 
 the bathing rooms, that we observed a hole in one 
 of the floors, through which a long stick was thrust 
 without any obstruction; and that we were assured 
 there was pretty good evidence that another tier of 
 unexplored apartments existed beneath us. The ex- 
 
ROME. 239 
 
 pense of examining any farther will probably leave 
 them long unknown, though perhaps other Laocoons 
 may lie there concealed. 
 
 We were led into a small ruinous apartment con- 
 nected with this extensive building, which, when 
 cleared of rubbish with the others, was found to have 
 been used by Christians as a place of prayer. The 
 walls still bear the remains of wretched paintings, 
 intended to represent St. Felicita and her seven chil- 
 dren who were martyred. Under each picture is writ- 
 ten twice the appropriate name in Latin, with red 
 chalk and black ; and the style of these and many 
 other drawings proved that they were made at a pretty 
 late period. Many fantastic lines and daubs are to 
 be seen on removing the plaster from the walls, which 
 must have been done between the desertion of the 
 baths, and the conversion of the place to a reli- 
 gious use. 
 
 it may seem from these lengthened details concern- 
 ing the first objects of our attention this morning, that 
 the whole day must have been occupied in their con- 
 templation. Far from it however, we had several 
 hours to spare before sun-set. 
 
 Following then the order adopted by our book, we 
 set out to make a tour through the south-eastern por- 
 tion of the city : it should rather be said, through the 
 south-eastern part of the ground included by the an- 
 cient walls, for it is almost destitute of habitations, 
 and devoted to a meagre kind of cultivation. And 
 from this moment I know not how it will be possible 
 to separate the ancient from the modern, in the hasty 
 view I propose to give of such objects in Rome as 
 appear best calculated to bear a few remarks, after 
 the innumerable descriptions which they have already 
 received. Hardly a spot broad enough to stand upon can 
 
240 ROME. 
 
 be found in the city, which is not remarkable for some 
 venerable ruin, as the scene of some interesting event, 
 the site of some specimen of modern taste, or at least, 
 one of those situations where antiquaries have sought 
 for the foundations of some departed temple or palace, 
 now existing only on the pages of Roman historians. 
 And these are mingled in such abundance and vari- 
 ety, that any attempt to separate them would be dis- 
 couraging, and perhaps very far from necessary, even 
 if successful. The constant rambling from one part 
 of the city to another, which would be necessary if 
 the objects were to be mentioned according to the 
 order of their dates, would soon involve the whole in 
 in perplexity, instead of taking the reader leisurely 
 along from street to street, with an occasional refer- 
 ence to the plan of the city, noticing things as they 
 actually present themselves. 
 
 From the baths of Titus a walk of nearly a quar- 
 ter of a mile south, about equal to the length of one 
 side of the square occupied by the baths, brought us 
 to the Colosseum. This object I prefer to pass in 
 silence, feeling how perfectly inadequate are words 
 to convey any of those ideas communicated by the 
 sight of its overwhelming dimensions. 
 
 From this place the street of Saint John leads, in a 
 direct line, to the magnificent church of that name, 
 which we saw at our first entrance into Rome. On our 
 right, as we passed along, lay the Coeiian mount; and 
 beyond it the Aventine, entirely devoted to vineyards 
 and gardens, except where a spot is occupied here and 
 there by a miserable dwelling, a modern convent or 
 church, or some solitary ruin. On our left was the 
 Esquiline mount, which stretches along in a tortuous 
 course, over a large tract of ground, and is equally de- 
 serted by the population of the city. Close at hand, we 
 
ROME. 
 
 241 
 
 passed the church of St. Clement, and soon after, that 
 of the Four crowned Saints. The former was built, as 
 is supposed, in the time of Constantine, on the site of 
 St. Clement's house, and restored and improved by 
 many successive popes and cardinals; and the latter 
 counts among its patrons several distinguished foreign- 
 ers, particularly one of the kings of Portugal. A little 
 beyond, we passed the spot where formerly stood one 
 of the city gates erected by Servius, and an ancient 
 arch. Next came the hospital of St. John in the 
 Lateran ; and here we entered the great square, and 
 proceeded towards the church, which, on account of 
 its being the episcopal seat of the supreme pontiff, as 
 bishop of Rome, bears the high-sounding title of 
 " Mother and Head of the churches of the city and the 
 world." The wide, open space on two sides of the 
 church, is admirably calculated to give this magnificent 
 edifice the full effect of its size and architecture ; and 
 it seemed to produce in us the same surprise and plea- 
 sure as when we first saw it. The Egyptian obelisk 
 which is placed in the square, is a most remarkable 
 object, both for its antiquity and for its being formed 
 of a single block of granite. It is the largest known in 
 the whole world, and was found among the ruins of 
 Thebes, where it had been erected to the sun by 
 Rameses king of Egypt. Augustus, it is said, feared 
 to attempt the removal of it; but it was brought to 
 Rome by Constantius, by the way of Ostium and the 
 Tiber, in a large vessel fitted out expressly for the 
 purpose. It was three times discovered among the 
 ruins of the Circus Maximus, and as often suffered to 
 become again covered and lost; till in 1588 it was 
 taken out by one of the popes, and placed here. It 
 measures 100 English feet in height, although broken 
 into three pieces and the upper part lost : and is seven 
 
 31 
 
242 HOME. 
 
 or eight feet through at the base. It would be difficuit 
 to conceive of an object more appropriately formed 
 for a permanent historical record, or of a finer simple 
 object of contemplation, exactly balanced as it is on 
 its narrow foundation, and covered all over with hiero- 
 glyphical figures, which, although involved in the 
 deepest mystery, certainly bear a direct relation to 
 the history of the Egyptians, who were to the Romans 
 what the Romans are to us. 
 
 The church of St. John in the Lateran is second 
 only to St. Peter's ; and we felt on entering it, the same 
 sensation of shrinking and withering to the size of 
 insects. Indeed, the immensity of the buildings is so 
 disproportioned to the human height and human wants, 
 that it serves as a constant reproach to man for his am- 
 bition. The pope, I think, must feel a twinge of hu- 
 mility under these wide and lofty arches, to think how 
 small a thing is he who wields such mighty power; 
 though the architect might have gloried to see how 
 much his genius surpassed the common bounds of 
 mortals and their works. The body of the church is 
 divided into five naves, by four parallel rows of broad 
 pilasters running through its whole length ; and though 
 wanting in many of those decorations so abundant in 
 St. Peter's, there are numerous chapels formed against 
 the walls, one of which, on the left, is that of the Cor- 
 sini family, and is considered among the richest in the 
 city. Its walls and floor are covered with a casing of 
 rich and polished stones; and beneath are two sepul- 
 chral vaults, one of which that of Pope Clement XIL 
 is formed of an ancient porphyry urn, discovered 
 under the portico of the Pantheon, and commonly call- 
 ed the urn of Marcus Agrippa. A winding stair-case 
 in this corner of the building conducts to the roof, from 
 which the view is very extensive, but embraces too 
 
ROME. 243 
 
 much of the deserted portion of the city, and of the 
 neighbouring campagna, to excite any ideas but those 
 of solitude and melancholy. 
 
 Nearly opposite the church is a building with a hand- 
 some open front, containing the Holy Stair-case, where 
 several persons were seen going up the steps on their 
 knees. The number of stairs is twenty-eight ; they are 
 of white marble, and much worn down by frequent use 
 in this manner, for they are said to be the stones which 
 formed the ascent to Pilate's judgment-hall, and were 
 sent from Jerusalem by Saint Helena, together with 
 many other things venerated by the Catholics. Habit 
 doubtless has rendered objects of this kind too com- 
 mon in the eyes of the Romans, to be regarded in other 
 than a superstitious light; but, to the inhabitants of a 
 country so remote from the scenes of sacred history, 
 every thing relating to it must come with peculiar 
 interest. To look for the first time upon reliques like 
 these, steps which perhaps have been actually trodden 
 by the Saviour of men, the stones on which his feet have 
 rested, opens to the mind a sudden and lively view 
 of his character and life, of his sufferings and their 
 effects ; and is calculated to awaken in the mind of a 
 believer, such feelings as we see in calmer exercise in 
 those who habitually worship God, and study and 
 meditate the Scriptures. 
 
 The city walls are all of ancient dates; for though 
 their circuit was extended at different periods, till they 
 embraced many times the size of the city as it was under 
 the kings, they reached their maximum under some 
 of the latest emperors, and which they still preserve. 
 Their whole extent is reckoned at ten miles, and the 
 present population of Rome at about 120,000; whichj 
 by clustering together in the northern part of the city, 
 occupies little more than the ancient Campus Martins, 
 
244 HQHE* 
 
 the little Tiberine island, and the Capitoline hill. The 
 more southern portions of the city therefore present 
 . only large fields, and would be readily mistaken in 
 many places for scenes in the country. 
 
 Quite at the north end of the city, and close to the 
 Gate of the People, is the Pincian mount, part of which 
 has been thrown open for a public garden ; and here 
 we found a number of English travellers and residents, 
 enjoying the mild, serene air, and the extensive view 
 which the place commands over the inhabited part of 
 the city. There was hardly an Italian to be seen; for 
 they seem to delight in no promenade but the crowded 
 streets, in no ride out of the Corso, and in no truly 
 manly exercise whatever. Wherever the English are 
 found, on the contrary, there are found pedestrians, and 
 still more equestrians ; and whether the traveller is at 
 Gibraltar, Naples, or Rome : on the way to San Roque, 
 at the Arco Felice, or here in the public garden of 
 Rome, at a season like this, he may calculate on hear- 
 ing prancing hoofs, and the homely sounds of our com- 
 mon language. As we were passing along a path 
 shaded with evergreens, a family party dashed gaily 
 by on horseback. My companion gave a sudden, in- 
 voluntary start. " Look at that lady in a green riding- 
 dress !" he said, or rather exclaimed ; " is she not beau- 
 tiful ? She is like one I knew in England : but it is all 
 over now — 1 hate our poets because they talk about the 
 sincerity of women. Some may perhaps be generous 
 and true — indeed, some it would be unjust ever to 
 doubt, but what is that to me ?" 
 
 The sun had now set ; and as that has long been our 
 signal for concluding the business of the day, we 
 descended into the celebrated Square of the People. 
 There, after admiring the Egyptian obelisk in the centre, 
 the city gate on one side, and on the other the two cor- 
 
tlOME. 245 
 
 responding churches of Saint Mary, with the three 
 diverging streets which met in our eje, we pursued our 
 course along that on the left, which leads to the Spa- 
 nish Square, the principal resort of strangers, and 
 were soon seated at table in a trattoria, among a very 
 agreeable company, principally English travellers 
 and resident artists, but including individuals of taste 
 and limited fortunes from most of the countries of 
 Europe. 
 
 Public eating houses are very few in Rome, and on 
 that account as well as for the moderate prices, these 
 tables are quite crowded for several hours about this 
 time of day. Next to the English the Germans appear 
 to be the most numerous travellers in Italy, and bear a 
 high character for intelligence and taste. Indeed one 
 might easily form the same f^ivourable opinion of 
 almost all classes of travellers, if he were to judge 
 from the individuals collected there at our table : luxury 
 and expense being both excluded by the character of 
 the house, which derives a decided tone from the 
 modesty of frugal travellers, and the chaste and po- 
 lished manners of artists and amateurs. It would be 
 a ditiicult matter to select from the bill of fare a din- 
 ner which should exceed the price of half a -dollar, 
 excluding wine ; and even with it many persons do 
 not exceed half that sum. Indeed it seems to be a very 
 prevalent custom for foreigners in Rome, to prefer the 
 enjoyments of temperance, study and reflection to 
 those of dissipation and idleness. Everyone must be 
 disgusted with the vain atteujpts of modern power and 
 splendour, to rival the real greatness and magnificence 
 of antiquity : the immense ruins to be seen in almost 
 every part of the city do so surpass the works of later 
 years. Since the curtailment of the influence of the 
 Church, the popes seem to have sought renown in patch- 
 
246 ROME. 
 
 ing up and protecting the old monuments of the city. 
 Abutments are built against tottering walls, and 
 crosses are erected in all those places where the 
 martyrs were called to spill their blood. We shall 
 cheerfully render our thanks to the popes and the 
 improved taste, for their scrupulous care of those noble 
 edifices which age alone could hardly have injured; 
 but at the same time the " restorer," or rather the 
 repairer, often claims more merit than the original 
 fooiider himself In short, present time appears with 
 such discredit in Rome, in almost every point of view, 
 that strangers cannot fail to be struck with the fact ; 
 and they are induced to assume the modest manners 
 of antiquaries, to assimilate themselves with that 
 humility in which the grandeur of antiquity is attired. 
 While at table, we heard for the first time the cur- 
 rent topic of conversation : for we had been re- 
 flecting all day on the illustrious fathers of Rome. 
 It was such as to make us blush at the degeneracy of 
 modern times : an army of barbarians, now known 
 by the name of Austrians, being on their march for 
 Naples, have impudently requested leave to pass 
 unmolested through this territory, as if Rome were 
 worthy to serve only as a thoroughfare to the foes of 
 liberty; and instead of calling together the people in 
 the Comitia, or throwing open the Temple of Janus 
 and sounding the trumpet in the Praetorian camp, the 
 consul, the emperor, — no, no — the pope, Has pub- 
 lished an apology under the name of a decree, for 
 acceding to the request, calling on all his dutiful 
 children toforbe9r from offering any opposition, out of 
 regard to their own safety. It is not known how far 
 the Austrians have advanced, and there are contradic- 
 tory accounts of the time when they may be expected 
 here : but it is certain that much disquietude prevails 
 
ROME. 
 
 247 
 
 in different parts of the country, and that travelling is 
 growing hazardous. Two English ladies have arrived 
 from Florence this afternoon, who were stopped by 
 robbers on the road, and robbed of their money and 
 jewels, but were in other respects very courteously 
 treated, and sent on their journey with many good 
 wishes. 
 
 Rome. — February 10. The Borghese Palace, to 
 which we formed a party this morning, may serve as 
 a specimen of Roman palaces ; and it seems well 
 to despatch them in this summary manner, because to 
 dilate on such a subject would be but to multiply the 
 names of statues and pictures and the terms of archi- 
 tecture, all which might readily be furnished from our 
 convenient oracle in three volumes, but still would 
 demand the mind of a connoisseur in the writer as 
 well as the reader. Many of the palaces here pre- 
 sent fine fronts, ornamental to the streets and squares 
 on which they are situated. Porticos, and even 
 columns, are very uncommon ; but pilasters are fre- 
 quent, though some of the largest palaces show 
 long extended walls, broken only by ranges of win- 
 dows. The appearance of the Borghese Palace is 
 decidedly heavy, but the impression is immediately 
 superseded on entering the door, and walking through 
 a portico lined with antique busts, statues, cinerary 
 urns, &c. and looking out upon the court yard and 
 garden. 
 
 We were soon introduced into a suite of twelve 
 apartments which form the gallery; and here we had 
 a view of one of the finest collection of pictures in the 
 whole city. Like most others here, this gallery is open 
 to all, access being granted immediately, and nothing 
 being expected from visiters except a trifling gratuity 
 to the keeper. We found several artists, male and 
 
248 
 
 ROME. 
 
 female, natives and foreigners, employed in copying 
 different pictures ; and the fact that this is a privilege ' 
 they may enjoy, with but fevi^ exceptions, at any other 
 palace, is sufficient to show the estimation in which the 
 Romans hold the fine arts, and the encouragement 
 which is extended to them. The artists usually 
 seemed unconscious of our presence, nor turned as 
 we passed them, but kept their eyes intently fixed 
 upon the fine pieces before them, enjoying with 
 tutored taste those master-touches, which, like a sin- 
 cere and friendly heart, familiar acquaintance only ren- 
 ders the more lovely. In my own mind however, though 
 Fuch a thing is painful to declare, there seemed, on our 
 leaving the palace, hardly anything but a confusion of 
 names and objects : Aminibale Caracci, Donnichino, 
 Giovannino, una Madonna, Pietro di Cortona, altra 
 Madonna ; cupids, nymphs and landscapes ; dying 
 gladiators and holy families ; frescoes, stuccoes and 
 arabesques ; Venus and Adonis, Jupiters, Junos and 
 Roman saints; the Trojan wars, herds of cattle, and 
 portraits of popes. 
 
 It is a very fortunate thing for the world, that custom 
 demands from the great such an appearance of love for 
 the arts as is displayed at the Borghese palace; for 
 otherwise, it is to be feared, this and many other 
 splendid collections would never have been made. 
 The wealthy owner is not an inhabitant of Rome, nor 
 of Naples, nor of several other cities where he pos- 
 sesses princely edifices like this ; but he spends most of 
 his time at Florence, in training and displaying his 
 dogs and horses, while his wife, the Princess Paulina, 
 sister of Napoleon, occupies some of them at dif- 
 ferent seasons, particularly a beautiful villa just 
 out of the city, in company with that discredit 
 which even in Italy is inseparable from her cha- 
 
 I 
 
ROME. 249 
 
 racter. Towards this place, the Villa Borghese, we 
 next directed our course, being partly decided in our 
 determination of visiting it to-day by the knowledge 
 of its being occupied at present only by domestics. 
 
 Our way lay through the Corso and the Gate of the 
 People, then along under the city wall about a mile, on 
 the road to Florence. On the left, the country showed 
 a succession of hills and vallies, of the same swelling 
 form and moderate size, as those in Rome ; and though 
 the surface was nearly covered with vineyards, and 
 thinly sprinkled with cottages, old masses of brick- 
 work and masonry rose here and there, to mark Ihe 
 situation of many an ancient villa; and in some places 
 were seen a few clumps of bushes, where the dilapida- 
 tion of nameless edifices had totally ruined the soil. 
 The weather was mild and calm, and the sun shone 
 out unclouded ; but there was a counteracting power 
 in the air which slightly tempered its rays, and inter- 
 posed to soften every discordant hue in this melancholy 
 landscape. Like the first of those serene, sunny days, 
 which in our own climate appear on the verge of win- 
 ter, the morning seemed a pledge of the speedy return 
 of spring; but there was none of that bounding hilarity 
 which is associated in our minds with the swelling of 
 the buds, the flowing of the brooks released from their 
 cold prisons, and the first notes of the blue-birds : there 
 was no joy in anticipation, while the melancholy ruins 
 so pressed upon our view and upon our very path, to 
 remind us of the disappointment of splendid hopes — to 
 tell us how the glory of Rome had departed. Here, even 
 the name of liberty has long been lost in the slavery 
 of superstition; and the divine and ennobling traits of 
 Christianity have been superseded by the debasing 
 doctrines of this world, and all the abuses of the papal 
 policy. But there is a country where both Christianity 
 
250 ROME. 
 
 and civil liberty are yet enjoyed, with many attendant 
 blessings never known before ; and fortunately that 
 country is our own. 
 
 But we had already arrived at the Borghese Villa, 
 and were approaching the Casino, or little palace, along 
 a winding path frequently overshadowed by ever- 
 greens and ornamented with statues both ancient and 
 modern. The grounds are undulating, and about three 
 miles in circuit, beautifully diversified with woods and 
 lawns, where a few deer are seen, and abounding with 
 many monuments of the taste of its previous possessors. 
 There is a little temple of Diana, and one of iEsculapius, 
 a lake, an aqueduct, and several fountains. Unfrequent- 
 ed paths lead off to different parts of the grounds, and 
 are so tastefully decorated, that almost every turn intro- 
 duced us to something agreeable and unexpected. In^ 
 deed, the succession of busts and vases, fountains spout- 
 ing from the mouths of animals, gloomy shades whitened 
 with ancient mutilated statues, and open spots affording 
 glimpses of a distant landscape — each came up to view 
 like a new page in some engaging author, leading the 
 mind from one train of thought to another without any 
 exertion of its own. But the most impressive sight of 
 all, and indeed one that had much of majesty in it, was 
 the portico of an ancient temple, deeply wounded by 
 the hand of time and the storms of many a barbarous 
 age, but still retaining a half-obliterated inscription, 
 and wearing in its stature and its frown the air of un- 
 questionable nobility. These tall pillars, and their 
 ponderous frieze, had probably been transported from 
 some distant ruins, but at a little distance they seemed 
 to mark the site of some ancient temple of great mag^ 
 nificence; and while we rambled about these delight- 
 iul grounds, enjoying the warmth and serenity of the 
 weather, they suddenly made their appearance from 
 
ROME. 251 
 
 lime to time, to call the mind to sublime ideas of the 
 period which produced them, and of the ages that have 
 since come and passed away. 
 
 The size of the Casino is too small to produce any 
 great impression ; but it is richly decorated internally, 
 with the usual, nay, inseparable furniture of such edifi- 
 ces in this part of the world ; and as this is intended to 
 serve as a specimen of Roman villas, it may be proper 
 to mention by name the principal objects pointed out 
 by the keeper, and recorded in our book. A broad 
 stair-case conducts to the door, which opens into a 
 portico, succeeded by a saloon, which has a vaulted 
 roof painted in fresco, with the battle between Furius 
 Camillus and the Gauls, and contains a relievo in 
 marble of Quintus Curtius on horse-back, precipitating 
 himself into the chasm in the Forum. The first cham- 
 ber has a painting on the roof of the Judgment of Paris, 
 and an admired statue by Bernini, of David fitting a 
 stone to his sling; the second, a painted roof; the 
 third, three groups, one of which is Bernini's Apollo 
 pursuing Daphne, four marble vases covered with bas- 
 reliefs, and several pictures; and then succeed too 
 many pictures in the remaining apartments to be par- 
 ticularized. There is a large collection of portraits by 
 Scipio Gaetano and Padovanino, of the most beautiful 
 Roman ladies of their time, and there are several works 
 by English artists : but the objects best calculated to 
 fix the attention of an unlearned observer, are perhaps 
 the boy picking a thorn from his foot, whose attitude 
 is so strikingly natural, that the first impulse on seeing 
 it is to pause and stop breathing, for fear of agitating 
 his careful fingers, although it is at the opposite end of 
 a long hall; and the beautiful group of Apollo and 
 Daphne, the marble of which is so full of life, so running 
 over with motion, that it seems as if the fire of Prome- 
 
252 ROME. 
 
 theus had just been applied, and we expected to se^ 
 the statues spring from the pedestal and disappear in an 
 instant. How can anyone define the pleasure communi-i^ 
 cated bjsuch a specimen of art? I have seen a spectator 
 perform a circuit round the pedestal again and again, 
 then stand gazing on it, and wringing his hands with 
 delight; then almost laugh aloud, and seek another and 
 another point of view, to revive once more the agreea- 
 ble delusions. 
 
 Re-entering the city and deviating to the right, we 
 took a tedious and disagreeable walk through some of 
 those crowded and dirty streets near the Tiber, in a 
 part of the ancient Campus Martins, and still in the 
 northern quarter of Rome. Here are the niiserabl^ 
 remains of the once magnificent tomb of Augustus, 
 which was erected by himself while consul the second 
 time, and ornamented in a manner corresponding with 
 the taste of his days. The vaults below were divided 
 by three corridors, and sub-divided into small com- 
 partments for single coffins. Its form was that of a 
 cone, which is said to have been about 190 Eng- 
 lish feet high, and surmounted by a bronze statue of 
 Augustus. It was cased with white marble, and en- 
 veloped with the shade of various plants ranged 
 around it on terraces. Two obelisks were placed on 
 each side of the entrance, and near at hand was a 
 building for preparing the bodies for the tomb by 
 burning. Here then were once deposited the ashes 
 of Augustus, Agrippa, Livia, Octavia, Marcellus, Ger- 
 manicus, Drusus, and many others; but nothing now 
 remains except an old broken circular wall. The or- 
 naments which had not been destroyed are removed, 
 the spot is shut in by modern walls and buildings, and 
 as if to cast the deepest reproach on modern times, the 
 jjlace has been converted into an amphitheatre fot 
 
R0ME. 253 
 
 bull-fights, and the vaults are used as a cellar for coal. 
 We had to wander about a long time before we could 
 discover the ruins, and several times followed short 
 lanes and blind allies terminating suddenly at the river. 
 The banks are formed in this part of its course by the 
 foundations of houses, many of them ancient, which 
 serve to show that the river has for many ages preser\ ed 
 its course. In some places we noticed remains of ex- 
 tensive walls of the close-grained, thin old bricks^ 
 which probably were built to support some of the 
 splendid edifices with which the river was ornamented 
 in the days of the early emperors ; and here and there 
 on a patch of grass, or in a small kitchen garden, were 
 fragments of marble and granite columns peeping 
 through the surface. A little below was the bridge of 
 St. Angelo, and the castle of the same name, the fcita- 
 del of Rome, whose principnl strength is in a large cir- 
 cular fort, formerly the tomb of the emperor Hadrian. 
 About a half a mile beyond, and near the north-western 
 corner of the city was seen the immense dome of St. 
 Peter's, and the palace of the Vatican. 
 
 From this place, on our way southerly towards the 
 Capitoline hill, we stopped at the Pantheon, whicih 
 is also in the Campus Martins amor^g closely built 
 streets ; and a walk of about half a mile still towards the 
 south, brought us to the Capitoline hill, near the base 
 of which and towards its eastern side, we discovered, 
 with the aid of our book, the remains of a tomb which 
 have given rise to much perplexity among the antiqua- 
 ries. All that now exists of it, is a wall built of large 
 blocks of travertine, ornamented with four pilasters and 
 a cornice, and an ancient inscription on the foundation, 
 which declares it to have been a tomb erected by the 
 senate and people, for the iEdileC. Publicius Bibulus 
 and his family. Some have supposed that it was erect- 
 
254 KOME. 
 
 ed within the walls of the city, on account of some im- 
 portant service rendered to the country ; while others 
 have cited against them the well known customs of the 
 ancients, who always buried their dead without their 
 cities, and asserted that this monument clearly pointed 
 out the spot where the wall of Servius ran, and the sit* 
 nation of an ancient street. This opinion attributes 
 to the ruin a high antiquity, whether justly or not I 
 cannot pretend to determine. Its present condition is 
 however such as to claim a moment's attention ; for it 
 forms one of the walls of a wretched house, and a hole 
 has been knocked through and grated with iron, to 
 admit a little light, and nothing was wanting to make a 
 good caricature of modern Rome, but two or three 
 children of the nameless plebeian family within, to 
 peep out, and wave their rags over that memorial of 
 better days: "C. Publicio L. F. Bibulo ded. Pl. ho- 
 
 NQRIS VIRTU TISqUE CAUSSA SENATUS CONSULTQ," &C SlC, 
 
 While we were lingering at this place, some men 
 passed near us with a hearse, which they set down 
 before a neighbouring door. Ft was ornamented with 
 bits of gilt wood carved in quaint figures, but so old 
 and worn, that it appeared to have been long in com- 
 mon use. From the downcast looks of persons who 
 began to assemble, it was evident that preparations 
 were making for a funeral. 
 
 Near one corner of the Forum of Trajan, we obser- 
 ved one of the Pope's proclamations posted against 
 a house, whicli several persons had assembled to read. 
 From their frequent scowls, and the side-long glan- 
 cing of some of their black eyes, it was apparent that 
 the political pusillanimity of their spiritual governor 
 did not well accord with their feelings. 
 
 It was now late dusk ; and returning near the tomb of 
 Bibulus we found the funeral procession was forming , 
 
ROME. 255 
 
 at the neighbouring house, arid ready to set out for 
 the church. About forty monks were on the spot, 
 habited in their large frocks, and a number of friars 
 enveloped in loose white garments, with tall conical 
 caps, drawn far down over their faces and breasts, so 
 as to conceal the features, being open only at the 
 eyes, that the wearer might see his way. These were 
 all assembled near the door of the house of affliction; 
 but being all official attendants, little was to be ex- 
 pected in their behaviour beyond the bare forms of 
 propriety. Some therefore seemed impatient at the 
 delay, and many remarks were heard little suited to 
 the occasion, particularly from the legion in white 
 robes, who had the supple motions and tart replies 
 of young men, and seemed to enjoy a little suppres- 
 sed amusement in receiving and lighting the long wax 
 candles, which were distributed to them just before 
 setting out, as well as in extinguishing some of them, as 
 if by accident, before they had proceeded many steps 
 from the door — the candle ends, as we understood, be- 
 ing one of their perquisites. The hearse followed this 
 procession at a slow pace, while the monks at intervals 
 joined in a loud religious chorus, which, at a distance, 
 produced a very solemn effect, ringing loud through 
 the silent streets, though the indifference expressed 
 by their countenances, when near enough to be seen, 
 was quite on the contrary extreme. Formality will 
 always betray itself in such circumstances; and if in 
 our large cities we too frequently observe the same 
 indifference manifested by distant acquaintances and 
 strangers, it is not surprising among those whose feel- 
 ings are still less concerned. 
 
 Mr. A. a young Roman of our family, is a volunteer 
 in the pope's body guard, and has to attend a parade 
 at the Vatican once or twice a week. He informs us 
 
256 i^OME. 
 
 that he has a right to his dress, rations, and two or 
 three cents a day, but, like his comrades, has received 
 little or nothing; and that the government are still 
 more in arrears to the militia, to whom they pretend 
 to give clothes, the taxes on bread, and several minor 
 privileges, but have not even paid for their clothes 
 in four years. 
 
 The English are considered by the Romans as the 
 introducers of high prices into this country. To 
 them it is said to be owing, that the expenses of tra-, 
 veiling have increased to an astonishing degree, since 
 the termination of the late continental wars; and that, 
 not so much by the simple occupation, use, and con- 
 sumption of the conveniences and luxuries of the 
 country, as by the manner in which they squander 
 their money, rather than spend it. Whether a deeply 
 calculating statesman might not be able to account 
 for this increase of prices on a more political view of 
 the case, I cannot uiidertake to determine, for men of 
 that character often arrive at conclusions on such sub- 
 jects which could never have been anticipated ; yet 
 the blame is to some extent laid where it is due. For 
 these foreigners so much complained of, proceed from 
 a country where the value of money is immensely 
 reduced by the heavy taxes to be bought with every 
 article of life ; and when they arrive where such taxes 
 do not exist, they are delighted to find every shilling 
 in their pockets turning into a crown, and are ready 
 to thank the innkeepers and servants for the change, 
 while their extortion alone prevents then) from making 
 ^' the crown a pound !" The operation of such things 
 in the long run is, to put the stranger in the best state 
 of mind imaginable for being fleeced, and at the same 
 time to train up a large part of the native population in 
 those impatient and extortionate habits so complajnecl 
 
ROME. 257 
 
 of by their civil and economical countrymen. Thus, 
 while we sympathise with the few travelling Italians, 
 in the numerous and vexatious evils, lately sprung up 
 in their paths, (they had mules and robbers before,) 
 we must participate in the ecstasies, and excuse the 
 errors of their unfortunate, or fortunate injurers, and 
 regard them as we do those late adventurers in the 
 Frozen ocean, who always smiled when the mer- 
 cury began to rise toward zero, and when the icicles 
 fell from their chins, threw off' their furs, and called it 
 a delightful climate. 
 
 February 11. We left the city to-day by the Ap- 
 pian gate, to visit several places, particularly recom- 
 mended to our attention. This gate, although built 
 over the Appian Way, is not the Capena gate of 
 Appius Claudius, but was the work of Aurelian, and 
 about a mile farther removed from the Forum. The 
 ground is uneven for a mile or more after passing the 
 gate, and the road is so much shut in by walls and a 
 few buildings, as to exclude every distant object. There 
 are several ruinous tombs of different descriptions on 
 both sides, one of which is regarded with peculiar inte- 
 rest on account of the name it has received, notwith- 
 standing the uncertainty which is acknowledged to 
 hang over it. It is called the tomb of Horatia, the 
 sister of the Horatii, who was slain by her surviving 
 brother a little without the Capena gate, for regretting 
 the death of her lover, one of the Curiatii. On the 
 right was the tomb of the freedmen and slaves of Livia 
 Augusta, and the church of St. Sebastian ; and in the 
 middV-^ of the road the little church of St. Mary of 
 the Palms, or Domine quo radis, whence a priest came 
 out to meet us on our approach, and urged us to 
 enter ; but intending to visit him at another time, we 
 passed on for some distance, with a more unobstructed 
 
 33 
 
258 ROME.— eARACALLA»S CIRCUS. 
 
 view over the neighbouring fields and vineyards, till 
 the immense tomb of Cecilia Metella appeared before 
 us on the top of a. long, gentle hill, corresponding to 
 the declivity we were descending. It stands at one 
 corner of a battlemented wall, which encloses an 
 acre or two of ground and a part of the Appian Way, 
 This was the castle of «ome petty chieftain in the 
 dark ages, whose citadel was the tomb itself; and the 
 ancient structure forms as striking a contrast with the 
 modern enclosure for solidity as for beauty. Its cir- 
 cular wall is a solid construction, twenty-five or thirty 
 feet thick, containing a chamber of about the same 
 diameter ; and it is cased externally with large blocks 
 of marble. A Neapolitan, returning home on horse- 
 back, here inquired of us whether the Austrians were 
 Coming, as he could not learn in Rome. 
 
 From this elevated ground we could overlook the 
 road we had come, for a considerable distance, and 
 discovered the ruins of the temples of Wisdom and 
 Fame, almost back to the city wall. More immedi- 
 ately under our view in the valley below, were the 
 well-defined remains of Caracalla's Circus, to which 
 we descended, without any obstacle or inconvenience^ 
 across the intervening fields. Its form was readily dis^ 
 tinguishable : a large oblong, surrounded by a low 
 wall, with an arched gateway at the eastern end, and 
 at the western, two dilapidated towers; while nearer 
 the road we saw some inexplicable heaps of brick 
 work, which some suppose to have served as stables 
 for the horses of spectators, and some the guard-houses 
 of the Praetorian soldiers. 
 
 Three sides of this circus were furnished with ten i 
 rows of seats, supported by an arched portico be^ 
 neath which furnished a free passage under them, 
 opening upon the exterior by large doors, and by 
 
ROME.— CARACALLA»S CIRCUS. 
 
 259 
 
 short stair-cases to the places for spectators. The 
 enclosed arena was devoted to chariot races, the 
 towers at one end to the judges, charioteers, and 
 other privileged persons, and the gate opposite was 
 for the passage of the conquerors. The seats must 
 have been capable of containing thirty thousand spec- 
 tators, and the arena is not less than fourteen hundred 
 and ninety-two feet long, and two hundred and thirty- 
 eight broad. The work is referred to Caracalla on 
 no direct evidence, but because its architecture agrees 
 with other specimens of his time, and its form cor- 
 responds with that of a circus represented on some 
 of his coins. Thus spoke our book, and indeed 
 the most hasty examination was sufficient to refer the 
 masonry to those sumptuous but foreboding days, when 
 the mighty sceptre of Rome was wielded by the single 
 hands of her most ambitious sons, and when the im- 
 mense treasures extorted from the provinces were 
 lavished at their bidding on palaces and baths, thea- 
 tres, aqueducts and temples, according to the im- 
 pulse of their changing fancies. These walls were a 
 rude mixture of bricks and stones of all sorts, fre- 
 quently mingled with bits of earthen ; and in many 
 instances, the remains of the vaulted roof of the por- 
 tico and its adjoining passages, were turned, and 
 even locked with the hollow fragments of jars — thus 
 bringing to a severe trial the resisting powers of the 
 arch, which experience, however, has thus fully attest- 
 ed. The preservation of these walls must be owing, in a 
 good degree, to the excellence of the cement used in 
 their construction ; for in many places pieces of yel- 
 low volcanic stones had decayed and disappeared, 
 leaving a cellular mass, like honey-comb, of the impe- 
 rishable mortar. 
 
 The two goals which marked the extremities of the 
 course, were still indicated by little mounds, connected 
 
^gO ROME— FOUNTAIN OF EGERlA. 
 
 by a low bank, under which is a little ruinous chamber^ 
 supposed to have been the deposit for the sacred 
 things used in religious ceremonies, which always pre* 
 ceded the pubhc games. 
 
 The Fountain of Egeria was the next object of our 
 search; and in walking the length of the arena we had 
 an opportunity to examine different parts of the build- 
 ing in a most satisfactory manner, and stopped under 
 the Triumphal Arch^ — a place now very cheaply 
 gained, since there are no competitors. The surface 
 was as smooth and unobstructed as if it had been 
 cleared for the games, and we involuntarily looked on 
 the close turf for the tracks of the chariot wheels^ 
 though not a living creature was in sight except a 
 poor old man, who had strayed into the enclosure with 
 a knife and basket to dig roots. 
 
 At a short distance we found a little solitary temple 
 of Bacchus, since consecrated as a church of St. 
 Urbino, which is now deserted in its turn. It is built 
 entirely of bricks, even to the pilasters and frieze^ 
 these being formed by projecting sides and corners. In 
 a long, gentle valley below we w^ere to look for the 
 Fountain of Egeria ; but were quite dissatisfied at 
 finding nothing more like a grotto than an old cellar 
 dug into the hill, and divided into a number of dark 
 and dreary apartments by walls of the living rocks, 
 but v/ithout any signs of water — and in another place 
 a hole so small and obstructed with bushes that we 
 could hardly creep in. There was water indeed, but 
 it ran so humbly through the grass, and tasted so much 
 like a nameless spring, that we could not think it 
 worthy of our notice, and certainly not fit to be pro-' 
 claimed to the world as the chosen, fountain of a ' 
 classic nymph. 
 
 A few bits of white marble shining at the bottom of 
 the little basin, showed how the land still loves to dis- 
 
ROME— AN IMPROVISATORE. 261 
 
 piay even the humblest evidence of its former glory; 
 and in some places we passed over, the surface was 
 thickly strewn for acres with fragments of bricks, red 
 earthen ware, and marbles of different colours : suffi- 
 cient proof that it was once covered with population, 
 although the place is about two miles from Rome, at a 
 distance from any road, uninhabited, uncultivated, 
 and used at best only as an occasional pasture. 
 
 This evening our Roman friend brought to our 
 lodgings an improvisatore, and thus afforded us an 
 opportunity we much desired of hearing a specimen 
 of the extemporaneous poetry for which some parts of 
 Italy have long been celebrated. An amateur was at the 
 same time introduced with his guitar, and our party 
 was soon afterwards enlarged by our host and hostess, 
 (a plain Roman couple,) one of their female friends, the 
 poet's father, and two large family dogs ; when, accord- 
 ing to the fashion of our country, we gave them a warm 
 welcome by heaping wood upon the fire till the chim- 
 ney roared. 
 
 The following brief account of the poet's life, which 
 we received from our friend in a low voice, was cal- 
 culated to interest our feelings for him. Five years 
 ago he lost his wife, to whom he was most tenderly 
 attached; and this misfortune produced such an effect 
 on his mind that he was deprived of his reason for a 
 long time, and on his partial restoration to health 
 remained so sick of the world that he determined to 
 devote himself to a life of monastic seclusion. His 
 spirits however are now quite restored, and he has 
 been for some time pursuing a course of study to pre- 
 pare himself for the practice of medicine. Though pos- 
 sessed of a very considerable talent for extempora- 
 neous poetry, he has never attempted even a rhyme 
 ©n paper. He meets a select party of friends one or 
 
262 ROME.— AN IMPROVISATORE. 
 
 two evenings in the week, where, under the excite- 
 ment of a little instrumental music, generally the 
 guitar, he produces at the moment long poetic com- 
 positions, which his hearers speak of in enthusiastic 
 terms. He is thought to excel in apostrophes, parti- 
 cularly when he addresses the *^ shade of his wife;" — 
 a singular subject, we should think in America, for the 
 display of poetical brilliancy ; but, perhaps on account 
 of some traditionary notions derived from antiquity, 
 our visiters expressed their approbation of his per- 
 formances on such occasions, and evidently perceived 
 no impropriety in addressing the manes of departed 
 friends. 
 
 He has not yet relinquished the religious dress, but 
 appeared before us in the long, broad-skirted black 
 coat and three-cornered hat of an abbe. His a^e is 
 only hve and twenty, and he has a high forehead, long 
 hair, large deep-blue eyes, and a countenance expres- 
 sive of a most warm and affectionate disposition. 
 When he became animated and moved before us, we 
 occasionally caught lines and proportions in his fine 
 head, and flashes in his eyes well accordant with the 
 character he claims:— that of an enthusiastic lover of 
 music, capable of being excited by its influence to un- 
 premeditated strains of poetry. 
 
 He requested the company to select for him a 
 theme, and was soon supplied with " The death of 
 Lucretia, and the expulsion of the Tarquins." The 
 poet immediately began to walk before the fire ab- 
 stractedly, while we so arranged our chairs as to afford 
 him a free passage across the room; and while he was^ 
 losing himself in the contemplation of his subject, his 
 eye gazed on something Ix^yond the walls of the 
 chamber, and he gradually became insensible to the 
 objects around him. While his vivid fancy was taking 
 
ROME.-AN IMPROVISATORE. 263 
 
 a hasty glance at the scenes suggested by his theme, his 
 voice of its own accord took up a new but correspond- 
 ing strain, while the musician, gazing steadily on his 
 face, seemed to participate in his rising enthusiasm, and 
 eagerly caught the notes upon his strings. In a moment 
 the voice, the guitar and the verse all conjoined, and the 
 recitation began on a mild, melodious key. By degrees 
 the lines grew more forcible as he described the 
 citizens assembling in crowds at the Forum, their dis- 
 content, their murmurs, and their clamorous shouts; 
 and with the irresistible power of a poet he hurried 
 our feelings along with his, and excited our indigna- 
 tion against the tyrant, while he personated the father 
 of Lucretia, and raising above his head the bloody 
 weapon which had killed his daughter, made an im- 
 passioned address to the assembly. The Tarquins 
 were expelled, among the tumultuous disorder of an 
 enraged populace ; and a period of peace and happi- 
 ness succeeded, which was beautifully described in 
 smooth verse, with the oft-recurring liquid sounds of 
 the Italian language, while the music gradually sunk 
 again to the sweet and simple air with which the 
 amiable enthusiast had begun his unpremeditated 
 lay. 
 
 Our visiters were all delighted with this exertion of 
 poetical talent; and if we might judge from their pro- 
 found attention and the spirit with which they occa- 
 sionally joined in the cries of " bravo ! bravissimo !" 
 were well instructed in the history of ancient Rome, 
 although in the exterior of most of them there was 
 small promise of literature or romance. The young 
 poet himself, with an ingenuousness which did but 
 enhance the value of his accomplishments, while sipr 
 ping a little wine we had procured from one of the 
 best vineyards on the seven hills, entered warmly into 
 
2^4 ROME.— AN IMPROVISATORE. 
 
 the praise of two extemporaneous singers, who we 
 understand are the only ones except himself at pre- 
 sent known in the city. He clearly allowed them 
 talents superior to his own, and even applied to 
 one of them the extravagant title of ^^ the god of im- 
 provisatori." 
 
 The next subject proposed was " the discovery of 
 America, and its consequences ;" but here we were 
 chagrined to find that he was childishly ignorant of 
 our history, and formed the blindest jumble imagina- 
 ble of North and South America, calling us both 
 the children of freedom and the sons of Spain. He 
 had read something of Cortes and Pizarro, but had 
 never heard I presume of the landing at Plymouth, 
 which is of prime importance to us. After taking us 
 on a boisterous voyage across the Atlantic with 
 Columbus, and making several unsuccessful attempts 
 to induce the goddess of Liberty to remain in a coun- 
 try of which he had no idea ; and after a meagre tribute 
 of praise to Washington, under the familiar appellation 
 of " n Giorgio" [George,] he was obliged to renounce 
 the undertaking; and ended with an ingenious apology 
 to the Americans present, for his ignorance of that 
 country in which the genius of Old Rome had found a 
 refuge, also expressing a wish that poets might arise 
 more worthy to sing its praises. 
 
 After this he sung '^ the love of Cupid and Psyche;" 
 and last "the love of Armida and Rinaldo." My very 
 limited acquaintance with the language of the country, 
 prevented in a great degree my enjoyment of this ex- 
 hibition, yet there were many points in which no one 
 could fail to feel interested. Such was his concluding 
 strain, which, one of our female visiters declared in a 
 low voice, was addressed to the shade of his wife. The • 
 utmost silence prevailed in the room ; and the poet. 
 
ROME— TlVOLl. 265 
 
 forgetful of our applause, and even of our presence, 
 gave himself up to the impulse of his warm feelings, 
 and poured out from his heart a current of tender 
 recollections, mingled with bright hopes of a future 
 world ; while his voice assumed an unaffected earnest- 
 ness, and a bright glistening denoted a rising tear, 
 which appeared to claim alliance with those that 
 had already appeared in the honest eyes of our old 
 hostess. 
 
 TivoLi, February 12. — The weather still continued 
 fine ; and at an early hour this morning, having bid 
 adieu to our English friend P. who is going to Florence, 
 we passed out at the gate of St. Lorenzo, which is the 
 ancient Prenestine gate, near the south-eastern corner 
 of the city, and took the road towards Tivoli. We were 
 on foot, although the distance is about eighteen Eng- 
 lish miles, for there were several objects to be seen by 
 deviating from the road, which are inaccessible in a 
 carriage. The vineyards continued for a mile or more 
 before we entered the unenclosed and uninhabited 
 waste of the Campagna, the breadth of which we were 
 to traverse before we could reach the mountains where 
 this town is situated. On our left we passed the church 
 of St. Lorenzo without the walls, founded by Constan- 
 tine, on the spot where that saint was buried, with many 
 other of the early Christians, by Saint Ciriaca, a Roman 
 matron, in her own ground. It now boasts many splen- 
 did ornaments, having been restored, rebuilt and de- 
 corated by numerous cardinals and popes, who in the 
 very act of paying honour to the spot, have shown how 
 much they had forgotten the humble virtues, which 
 form the only greatness of the Christian character, and 
 by the imitation of which alone its friends and martyri? 
 can be honoured^ 
 
 34 
 
266 ROME.— TIVOLI. 
 
 The walls by the road side were built partly of yel- 
 low stones, of a decidedly volcanic appearance; and 
 even before we had got more than a mile from the city 
 gate, we perceived a thick stratum of rock of the same 
 description, which had been cut through in ancient 
 times, for the passage of the Tiburtine way, of which 
 many parts of the pavement remain, and many loose 
 stones are built into the walls. In one place men had 
 lately been at work to widen it ; here the rock was so 
 soft as to be easily cut and scraped away,lea ving a pretty 
 high wall, which will doubtless grow very hard by ex- 
 posure. This sight immediately brought to mind the 
 lofty terraces, or hanging gardens, of Naples and Posi- 
 lipo; and satisfactorily explained the manner in which 
 these huge rocky precipices have been formed, as well 
 as the digging of the grottos of Pozzuoli and Baia; for 
 beside the similar aspect of the rocks, I recollected 
 having noticed in the vicinity of Naples, the marks of 
 tools used in smoothing the surfaces, which compared 
 with those made here yesterday, and the same sweeping 
 lines, which had before made me suspect that the rocks 
 must have been formerly much softer than at present. 
 
 A walk of about three miles brought us to the river 
 Teverone, formerly Anio, which we crossed on the 
 Ponte Mammolo, a bridge of unknown antiquity, built 
 of heavy blocks of white stone, and deeply worn by the 
 elements. Here we met a drove of about a hundred 
 large grey cattle going to Rome. They are pastured 
 on the Campagna, where they acquire a savage wild- 
 ness, that renders it very difficult to manage them. 
 They are easily driven in a body, but when one gets 
 separatedfrom the rest, it becomes almost furious. They 
 had stopped suddenly at the bridge, and were moving 
 quickly round and round in a solid circle, from mere 
 restlessness and insubordination. 
 
ROME.-TIVOLI. 267 
 
 No enclosures or signs of cultivation appeared over 
 the undulating ground before us, except now and then 
 the little conical hut and pinfold of a wandering, soli- 
 tary shepherd, and the casini, or extensive stables and 
 store-houses of a great proprietor, six or eight miles 
 apart. Though our course lay over several considera- 
 ble elevations, from which the view was almost un- 
 bounded, no other objects appeared over the useless 
 waste except some nameless Roman ruin, the blacken- 
 ed walls and towers of a Gothic fortress, or a single 
 shepherd clad in skins, at a far remove from the luxu- 
 ries and trials of the world, silently seated near the 
 ancient dwelling-place, or the tomb, of some long for- 
 gotten Roman, in the midst of a society the most harm- 
 less and faithful on earth — his watch-dog, and a little 
 flock of sheep. 
 
 In the midst of the Campagna is a post-house ; and, 
 about three miles farther, the Lake of Tartarus. The 
 approach to this singular pond, which is some distance 
 from the road, is sufficiently indicated by a stratum of 
 white porous stone, called Tufa, lying an inch or two 
 under the turf Farther on, it begins to appear above 
 ground; and for the distance of a quarter of a mile 
 from the pond, completely covers the surface, and 
 offers scarcely a particle of soil for the nourishment of 
 plants. The lake which, from these appearances, must 
 formerly have covered a surface two or three miles 
 square, has now reduced itself to such narrow limits, 
 that its circumference probably does not exceed a 
 quarter of a mile. The springs by which its waters 
 are supplied rise from the bottom, so highly charged 
 with lime in solution, that evaporation causes it to be 
 deposited along the shores, and thus the plants which 
 abound at the margin, are all covered with a thin 
 crust. When the plants die, this hard casing still pre- 
 
268 HOME— TIVOLI. 
 
 serves their forms ; and, as the deposition is continued, 
 the place which a few weeks ago was marked by a 
 tuft of green reeds, shows a cluster of bristling spires, 
 as white and lifeless as icicles, and in a short time lon- 
 ger will be occupied by a hard and durable rock, on 
 which you may stand and observe the same process 
 going on all around, and making its slow but certain 
 encroachments upon the contracted territory of the 
 little lake. The water is whitish and turbid, with an 
 odour of sulphur; the shores for a great extent are 
 dreary, and as white as if partly covered with snow, 
 being destitute of trees, with the exception of a few on 
 a little promontory on the right; and the only animals 
 we saw, were two or three ducks near the opposite 
 shore. 
 
 A mile beyond the road crossed a swift brook of 
 a peculiar bluish coloured water, from which arose a 
 strong sulphurous smell, perceptible at a considerable 
 distance. Tracing it up we came to a broken tract of 
 ground, where a branch of the stream left its bed, and 
 after tearing a deep channel through the soil, and lay- 
 ing open a great mass of porous lime-stone rock below, 
 evidently of the same formation we had lately been 
 examining, soon disappeared at a chasm itself had 
 worn. A walk of fifteen minutes, over a perfect level 
 half covered with clusters of alders, brought us to the 
 Lake of a thousand Islands, the appearance of which 
 quite disappointed the romantic expectations we had 
 founded on its name. It is indeed the same lake where 
 was formerly a temple to Faunus, and whither king La- 
 tinus is represented by Virgil, as betaking himself to ask 
 advice of the god concerning the marriage of his daugh- 
 ter Lavinia with Turnus; but like the other lake we 
 had just visited, its size has been continually decreasing 
 since that time, though from a cause entirely different. 
 
ROME.— TIVOLI. 269 
 
 The water rises in one place near the margin with a 
 violent ebullition, and in addition to its sulphurous 
 exhalations, throws up a kind of gelatinous matter, 
 which remains upon the surface, receiving and nourish- 
 ing the seeds of plants which are driven upon it by the 
 wind, and frequently forms little floating islands, which 
 change their places until they become fastened to the 
 banks by a similar process, and gradually encroach 
 upon the pond. In former times it might have pre- 
 sented a very romantic sight, when its size was great, 
 as it probably was ever changing its form and aspect; 
 but it is now reduced within a circumference of about 
 two hundred feet, and, when we visited it, had not a 
 single island. We found one spot, however, where a 
 piece had lately been added to the shore, about six 
 feet broad, and twenty long, which was sufficiently 
 strengthened by a thick mass of green turf to support 
 our weight, although it trembled at every step, and 
 even at the undulations of the water; for it was close 
 by the spot where the agitation was greatest, and where 
 it jetted through in many places. The country for a 
 great distance around is a dead level, hardly elevated 
 at all above the surface of the water, and must owe its 
 origin to the curious qualities of this little lake. The 
 soil is well covered with grass and shrubs, though from 
 the great depth of the water, it would seem impossible 
 that the immediate banks can have any solid founda- 
 tions, as when a stone is thrown in, (a thing by the way 
 very scarce hereabouts,) even if near the margin, the 
 surface continues to be agitated for a long time, as if 
 by some internal commotion ; and, our books assure us, 
 that it requires a line of about 60 feet, to sound it at 
 the side, and 160 in the middle. It is natural, however, 
 to feel some curiosity to see what lies so far below, for 
 it was the custom with those who in ancient times con- 
 
270 ROME.— TIVOLI. 
 
 suited the guardian spirit of these waters, to cast into 
 the lake stones bearing inscriptions, which would cer- 
 tainly prove interesting objects at the present day. 
 
 We returned to the road by an oblique course across 
 the fields, occasionally perceiving some traces of men 
 and cattle, and crossing ledges of porous lime-stone. 
 Several times we noticed a channel cut in the hori- 
 zontal rock, three or four feet in width, between sides 
 hardly two inches high, as if it had been worn by the 
 passage of carriages many centuries ago, or formed for 
 a water course; but it was so indistinct, occurred at 
 such intervals, and ran in so many directions, that it 
 was difficult to decide whether it might not have been 
 a work of nature. 
 
 The nearest hills on the borders of the mountainous 
 region now were plainly visible, prominently advanced 
 from the distant obscurity in the form of huge cones 
 six or eight hundred feet high, some of them crowned 
 with old grey forts and towers, or clustering towns 
 almost inaccessible. Behind them appeared Tivoli, 
 ranged on the ridge of a lofty hill, and surrounded by 
 still loftier elevations which claimed familiarity with the 
 clouds. Their sides betrayed the bare, rocky surface 
 most common to Italian mountains, covered here and 
 there with extensive vineyards and olive grounds, ap- 
 parently too abundant for the scanty population. By 
 the Ponte Lucano, an ancient bridge, we crossed the 
 Aniene, and found ourselves once more among houses 
 and cultivated enclosures. This bridge, with the cir- 
 cular tomb of the Plauzia family near one end, has 
 been too often described to require anything here; 
 and indeed it is often difficult for any one in speak- 
 ing of Rome, to say too little to please others, or 
 enough to satisfy himself The hill which we now 
 began to ascend, wherever it had been washed by the 
 
ROME.— TIVOLL 271 
 
 rain, showed a rock of white limestone, formed of 
 large globular and stratified concretions, very curi- 
 ously and unaccountably formed. The shortest path 
 was a very steep ascent, which we soon after relin- 
 quished for a more easy one of three times the length, 
 in order to pay a visit to the ruins of Adrian's famous 
 Tiburtine Villa, toward which we were directed by 
 an honest old man, who was transporting a load of 
 iron ore in a single-horse wagon to Tivoli. 
 
 At a corner of the road we were accosted by a little 
 boy, who had been lying in wait for strangers, under a 
 hedge, and with a mixture of officiousness and civility, 
 offered his services as a guide. He led us on about 
 a mile, along a green avenue, over which the setting 
 sun was throwing some of his latest beams, and at 
 length knocked at the high garden gate of a modern 
 villa, belonging to Count Fede. At length, being admo- 
 nished by the approach of evening, we forced our pass- 
 age through a briery hedge, and passed very uncere- 
 moniously over 5hady gravel walks and open terraces, 
 by the front of the casino, or country house, and ap- 
 plied at a little lowly cottage door for the keeper of the 
 grounds. He had not returned from the house of a 
 neighbour, about two miles distant, and his wife under- 
 took to conduct us, who although in the quaint array 
 of the peasant women hereabouts, felt herself fully com- 
 petent to the task of commenting on those magnificent 
 remains. As we were passing through a long avenue 
 of ancient trees, she handled some opinions which 
 have been expressed concerning different parts of the 
 ruins, with as little mercy as if she had been bred in 
 a university, and showed a parrot-like familiarity with 
 all the long names connected with ihem, which at 
 first made us gaze upon her as a literary paragon; 
 but she soon betrayed the extent of her erudition, by 
 
272 ROME.-TIVOLL 
 
 appealing from our objections to the opinion of " mii0 
 marito," [my husband,] whom she seemed to regard 
 as the highest earthly authority. 
 
 The extent of ground occupied by the Tiburtine 
 Villa was no less than ten miles, and the situation was 
 selected with taste, being on a gently declining tract 
 of ground at the foot of the hills, and at such an ele- 
 vation above the campagna as to give it an extensive 
 view, and to secure it even now from the unwholesome 
 atmosphere of the low grounds. It was the professed 
 design of the Emperor Adrian to make it one of the 
 wonders of the w^orld ; and with the luxurious extra- 
 vagance of his days, he collected from different parts 
 of the earth all the specimens of art and the curiosi- 
 ties of nature, as well as the most splendid fashions 
 in architecture and planning grounds, which could 
 be obtained within the empire of Rome. It is said 
 that he divided the villa into three parts, under the 
 names of Canopus, Paecile and Tempo, in each of 
 which respectively were collected its^appropriate edi- 
 fices and decorations ; forming the first after the mo- 
 del of the temple of Serapis at Canopus in Egypt, 
 making a picture gallery of the second like that at 
 Athens, and of the third an artificial abode for the 
 Muses. Nay, he is even supposed to have gone still 
 farther, and to have attempted a representation of the 
 infernal regions. 
 
 At the present day how^ever, when the ravages of 
 the Goths, and of so many centuries, have left nothing 
 but the merest wreck of these structures, it is impos- 
 sible to substantiate or to contradict the particulars 
 of this account. Still, no one can visit the spot and 
 deny that the Tiburtine Villa might have been quite as 
 magnificent as it is represented. For here we saw 
 the dilapidated walls, the empty apartments, the dark 
 
ROME.— TIVOLI. 
 
 273 
 
 vaults, and the spacious squares of what would have 
 seemed a ruinous town, but of which w'e learned 
 from our guide the appellations most commonly ac- 
 cepted by antiquaries. Here was the Hippodrome, 
 three hundred and twenty-three feet long, and two 
 hundred and twenty-one broad, with its arena over- 
 grown with olive trees ; the Poecile with a lofty wall 
 five hundred and forty feet in length; the Maritime 
 Theatre, of a circular form, and adorned with the re- 
 mains of sea monsters ; the Palace of the Imperial 
 Family ; the Emperor's Palace ; the quarters for sol- 
 diers; the extensive baths for men, and others for 
 women, arranged on the Grecian plan, with their va- 
 rious suites of apartments for cold, warm, and hot 
 water bathing, sweating, and anointing. Beside these 
 are the Canopus, the Philosophers' dwellings and 
 school, the temple of Apollo, that of Diana and Venus, 
 the library, and a beautiful fountain. All these ruins are 
 so extensive and stupendous, that it is not to be hoped 
 any adequate idea of the impression they produce 
 can be communicated by this hasty description, or 
 rather, enumeration, which I could not prevail upon 
 myself to omit, on account of the admiration which 
 they excited in me, although they have been so many 
 times described befoie. 
 
 Our guide informed us, that the ground was scat- 
 tered for a great distance round with many unknown 
 ruins, which was rendered extremely probable by the 
 appearance of the surface, and particularly of the 
 walks of the garden, which might almost be said to 
 be gravelled with the fragments of stone, bricks and 
 marble. It is by no means improbable that noble speci- 
 mens of art may yet be found beneath the surface, for it 
 is this place, which, like a quarry of ready sculptured 
 stones, has furnished numerous Egyptian cabinets with 
 
 35 
 
274 ROME.-TIVOLT. 
 
 statues of granite, Roman statues of marble, the most 
 beautiful specimen of ancient Mosaic known, and the 
 famous vase now at Warwick castle in England. 
 
 But we had yet a long walk before us ; and taking 
 a course pointed out by our guide, we hastened back 
 to the road, through extensive olive grounds, and over 
 a tract much torn up by water from the mountains, 
 by a narrow path often cut down six or eight feet, 
 probably by long use, which completely shut out our 
 view. In ascending a long and most laborious hill, 
 we were overtaken by a party of peasants, male and 
 female, returning from labour in the fields of the Cam- 
 pagna, who had the appearance of health and the 
 utmost hilarity, joking and laughing till the hills rang 
 all around, though they had to carry their implements 
 of husbandry, and some had large bundles of sticks 
 upon their heads. The disadvantage of being con- 
 fined to the high grounds for dwellings, while the land 
 to be cultivated lies at such a distance below, never 
 appeared to us in so striking a light ; for, to persons not 
 accustomed to it, it is work enough for half the day to 
 go to the field and return. The steep side of the moun- 
 tain was covered with a grove of olive-trees, each of 
 which stands on a terrace supported by a semicircular 
 stone wall ; and from some parts of the road we had a 
 fi:ne view of the Campagna, on which we could dimly 
 retrace a large part of the way we had travelled, the 
 Sulphur and Tartarian lakes, shining in the twihght 
 like spots of silver, and afar off at the distance of 
 eighteen miles, the diminished dome of St. Peter's. 
 
 It was quite dark when we entered Tivoli, and 
 inquired the way to the " Albergo delta Sibilla" — 
 f* the Sybil's Inn." A young man who had just re- 
 turned from a journey, and was on a full walk for 
 his father's house, hearing the question cheerfully 
 
ROME.— TIVOLI. 27^ 
 
 offered to be our guide, although he was going in the 
 opposite direction, and led us through many a narrow 
 dismal street till we supposed he was as lost as our- 
 selves. He at length knocked at the door of a house, 
 and when he heard feet approaching bowed and disap- 
 peared with " Felice notte !" — " I wish you a happy 
 night." The door opened, and an old wrinkled 
 woman appeared, with a tall brass lamp in her hand, 
 of a most antique form. Perceiving that we were 
 strangers, and misapprehending our question, she led 
 us through the hall over a floor of earth into a small 
 yard, and pausing before a circular range of fluted 
 Corinthian columns, evidently the ruins of some 
 classic Roman structure, told us it was "the Sybil's 
 Temple" — " The Sybil's Temple indeed !" was im- 
 mediately echoed, " but where is her Inn ?" A few 
 hasty steps transported us all back to the house, 
 and up a heavy stone stair-case into the spacious 
 dining room, where a cheerful fire was soon kin- 
 dled, of Avood and the stalks of Indian corn, and 
 a good supper of beefsteaks and coffee was not 
 long behind. 
 
 Our hostess, a tall good looking woman, took a seat 
 by the fire, to entertain her guests, and to inquire the 
 news at Rome, with such a mixture of hospitality, 
 intelligence and modesty, as one might look for through 
 a window shaded by " morning-glories^'''' near a family 
 Bible and among the advantages of common schools; 
 though the language she spoke reminded us over and 
 over again that there were no such things in Italy^ 
 She said her house was usually much resorted to by 
 the English ; and this was corroborated by the excel- 
 lence of our beefsteaks, [in Italian bisiechi.] During 
 the ensuing season however she should have to 
 complain of an empty house, because few strangers 
 
276 KOME.— TIVOLI. 
 
 could be expected at Rome in the present state of 
 things. She inquired with solicitude when the Aus- 
 trians were expected ; and declared that the Neapoli- 
 tans were doing a great deal of mischief to this part 
 of the country, partly out of ill will, for they were 
 arrant cowards and knew in their hearts that they 
 never meant to fight. They were such foolish brag- 
 garts that they could not be content to let honest peo- 
 ple live by their industry, but must get Italy a bad 
 name by their senseless broils, and prevent travellers 
 from coming to Rome and Tivoli. This was the train 
 of thought suggested by the Neapolitan revolution to 
 our hostess of the Sybil's Inn : perhaps if the common 
 schools above alluded to existed in Italy, she might have 
 taken a different view of the case. 
 
 This house possesses the characteristics of most 
 of the inns we have seen : large, ill-furnished apart- 
 ments, and tiled or stone floors. The window by 
 which my bed-chamber is lighted, resembles such as 
 horses look out at in our own country ; without glass 
 and closing only with a wooden shutter. Although the 
 strange scenes we have witnessed since we enter- 
 ed the Mediterranean have been so numerous as to 
 clog the memory, the date in my journal this evening 
 reminds me that it is only two months since we left 
 Gibraltar. 
 
 Being attracted to a tall window in the hall just 
 now, by a loud rushing sound without, I opened it 
 into a little balcony, which introduced me to a serene 
 moonlight night, and a near view of the Sybil's Tem- 
 ple. But whence that dashing sound ? A servant 
 told me it was the " Gran' Cascata ;" and it proved 
 that this classical Httle ruin occupied the brow of a 
 fearful precipice, down which the Anio precipitates 
 itself, and begins to form those foaming beauties 
 
ROME.— TIVOLt 277 
 
 for which Tivoli is so celebrated. A high and dark 
 mountain was seen rising opposite^ so near at hand as 
 to promise all its shade and sublimity to the scene, 
 and made us long for the light of the morning to ex- 
 plore the deep and narrow vale which lies below. 
 
 Rome. — February 13. We rose at half past six; 
 and while breakfast was preparing we found time 
 to descend to the Grotto of Neptune, where a stream, 
 diverted from the Anio some distance above, after 
 flowing through unexplored caverns in the concreted 
 limestone, appears at a chasm in the beds of the lofty 
 precipice, boiHng tumultuously, and leaps headlong 
 into the valley below ; as if fleeing from subterranean 
 horrors. The cascade was pouring down in a beau- 
 tiful white line directly before us, and seemed to 
 descend from the great height in perfect calmness and 
 quiet, so much were our senses absorbed by the 
 agitating sight and sound of the noisy scene immedi- 
 ately beside us. Deep and dark indeed was the 
 valley beneath us, and a devious course did the gleam- 
 ings of the stream betray, through a bed obstructed 
 by broken banks and rude ragged rocks, whose kins- 
 men and brothers stood tottering on many a narrow 
 ledge around and above us, as if longing, yet dreading, 
 to take their destined leap. And we indeed seemed to 
 occupy a station no less precarious : for our path was a 
 zigzag stair-case cut and built along the face of the 
 rock, with desperate projecting angles. It was formed 
 by a French officer, who commanded at Tivoli during 
 the times of Napoleon ; and every traveller who has 
 this opportunity of enjoying the benefit of his gene- 
 rous taste, cannot but feel gratitude towards the disin- 
 terested individual. I regret that subsequent things 
 have driven his name from my memory. The track of 
 the French in various parts of the continent is not 
 
27 a ROME.— TIVOLI. 
 
 unfrequently marked by monuments of taste as well as 
 of the improved state of the arts and sciences to which 
 they had attained ; and it is unfortunate that we 
 have so often to contrast them with the profligacy of 
 the troops and the fatal ambition of their great leader. 
 That ambition, in spite of the flattering promises he 
 held up to the world, and particularly to France, 
 made him betray a contempt for truth and all the prin- 
 ciples of morality, as dangerous to the minds of men 
 as his cannon were to their lives, and as opposed to all 
 our x'lmerican ideas of civil institutions as the conduct 
 of the present Holy Allies : for expediency was the 
 only conscience he acknowledged. 
 
 Our little chubby cicerone, who with all the promp- 
 titude of a recruit entering con amore into his profes- 
 sion, had kept watch at our door ever since early 
 dawn, now informed us that he knew a way by which he 
 could lead us down to the valley. Mingled with some 
 of the wildest natural features of the scene were 
 many attempts at rude embellishment by the hand 
 of human labour : for wherever a spot could be found 
 along the precipitous banks capable of retaining a 
 little earth, vines are planted and trained upon sticks 
 and slight frames with a loose cane roof, where they 
 enjoy a fine exposure to the sun and a warm shelter 
 from the wind. By clambering down the rocks, wind- 
 ing among vines, stooping under frames and trelisses, 
 and above all taking care to follow the blind path of the 
 vinedressers, and not to venture too near the brows of 
 the little natural terraces, the way was attained quite 
 to the Ponte Lupo, a natural bridge over the bed of 
 the stream, composed of rough masses of rock, over- 
 spread with a soft carpet of fresh green grass, and in- 
 terspersed with knots of wild flowers. An adequate 
 description of the scene which presents itself from 
 
ROME— TIVOLI. 279 
 
 this spot, if such a thing were possible, would be con- 
 sidered one of the most precious morsels of composi- 
 tion in the world ; but such a number of objects are 
 collected, so various, yet so essential, that I think 
 every one who has ever preceded me in placing his 
 feet there must have felt the propriety of silence on 
 such a subject, and almost resolved, as I was ready to 
 do, never to attempt a description. 
 
 The broken banks rose to a dizzy height on both 
 sides, backed on the left by the mountainous ridge 
 spoken of last evening, with its green girdle of olive 
 trees and its conical summits of grey stone, beginning 
 to glow towards the rising sun ; while the great cas- 
 cade was foaming over a precipice in front, and the 
 Sybil's temple looking down upon it from above, in all 
 the beauty of Corinthian columns on an overhanging 
 rock. From the bridge beneath there was a loud roar 
 of foaming water, pouring in at the Syren's grotto, as 
 the dark entrance is called ; and the devious course 
 of the stream might be traced here and there as it 
 flowed on, till a turn in the long valley presented the 
 side of another rough mountain, on which is supposed to 
 have been situated Horace's favourite retreat, and the 
 villa of Quinctilius Varus. 
 
 After breakfast, we left the inn with the friendly 
 wishes of the family, who had assembled in the lower 
 hall to say, " Addio ; buon' viaggio, signori !'^ — [Good 
 bye; a pleasant journey, gentlemen] — then putting 
 ourselves under the direction of our officious little 
 cicerone in blue linen clothes, with an old stick in his 
 hand as a sort of baton of office, we passed close by 
 the Sybil's temple, into a thick cluster of houses on the 
 brink of the great cascade. Here, in crossing the Anio 
 by a narrow stone bridge, we had the mortification to 
 see the stream turning machinery, and spattering under 
 
280 BOME.—TIVOLI. 
 
 the red hands of plebeian washerwomen, before it was 
 permitted to its bold leap from the precipice, and 
 begin its romantic dash through the valley. On reach- 
 ing the fine and elevated road which was to conduct us 
 along the olive groves, which overhung the valley on 
 the opposite side, we were accosted by an old woman, 
 who immediately began to extol the merits, both bodily 
 and mental, of a poor half-skinned donkey she was 
 driving before her, with a bag of sharp stones instead 
 of a club: but we could not prevail upon ourselves to 
 add our weight to a back already oppressed with such 
 a load of woes, and passed on with many a glance 
 upon the varying scene, and doubtless treading over 
 the sites of many of those ancient villas which deco- 
 rated it in ancient times with the splendours of 
 art. The city of Tivoli claims a foundation about 
 four hundred and sixty years prior to that of Rome, 
 and after that important period persevered in main- 
 taining her independence for four centuries. Tivoli, 
 I take it for granted, is a corruption of its ancient name, 
 Tibur : being too much occupied, as well as too indif- 
 ferent to take the pains of inquiring. At present this 
 city has no modern architectural beauties to set off ^ 
 against those spoken of by old Roman writers, except 
 the villa d'Este, and a church, which we did not see. 
 A walk of about a mile brought us to the place which 
 the tradition of the country people fixes upon as the site 
 of Horace's villa. Though it has been often doubted 
 whether a mere poet, though a great one, could be 
 reasonably supposed to possess even a house of his 
 own, it is certainly bestowing a very gratifying favour 
 upon one's fancy, to shut the ear against such ill-timed 
 doubts, and look upon this spot as one of his once 
 chosen places for retirement and study: for when we 
 consider his love of nature, as formed and fostered on 
 
ROME.— TIVOLI. 281 
 
 vi scene so beautiful as this, we attribute a far higher 
 elevation to his taste ; and such fragments of his verses 
 as recur to the memory even of an unlearned traveller, 
 however imperfect and unconnected, acquire a new 
 vigour, and more of the brilliancy of poetic aspirations. 
 The feelings rise to an unusual and delightful tone; 
 and we fancy that nothing is wanting save the power of 
 expression, to make us all poets. 
 
 " Scriptorum chorus omnis amat nemus, et fugit urbes"-— 
 " Satis jam terris nivis, atque dirae" — 
 
 This is a favourable spot to speak of rural enjoy- 
 ments, and to forget the bustle of cities : but we can- 
 not enter so fully into the feelings of the poet when he 
 talks of fire-side enjoyments in Italy, in a climate like 
 this, the snow and the frost are never keen enough to 
 show in due contrast the comforts and pleasures of the 
 family hearth. The domestic attachments of an Italian 
 must be fostered in different scenes, and remembered 
 among other associations : for what we call a winter 
 evening, can never be known in the mildness of this 
 climate. 
 
 Passing through a dark grove of olives, and emer- 
 ging at an open spot, beyond the extensive ruins 
 of Varus's villa, we found the scene unexpectedly 
 changed by another turn of the valley, and soon forgot 
 the delightful objects we had so lately admired. Far 
 below us on the right lay an ancient bridge over the 
 Anio, in front of a dark, mountainous hill; and towards 
 the left, on a declivity, the well-known ruins of Maece- 
 nas's villa, with an hundred cascades pouring down 
 into the valley. The sun was just making its appear- 
 ance above the opposite hill, where groups of peasants 
 could be with difficulty distinguished, climbing up the 
 steep road with loaded mules, and the Anio still glided 
 on in the shade below ; while as a few little patches of 
 
 36 
 
282 ftOME.—TIVOLl. 
 
 vineyards, with their frames and straggling fences, ad- 
 vanced so far as to furnish a kind of elaborate filla- 
 gree work, the strong light touched a rustic bridge 
 more in front, and fell broad and full upon the wall of 
 the villa of Maecenas. The cascades which poured from 
 its foundation, and one which leaped from a dark win- 
 dow, were the brightest objects in the whole landscape, 
 sparkling in the sun, and flowing down a broken bank 
 of grass made green by the spray. 
 
 We observed several small, whitish bricks upon the 
 ground, of the most perfect form, and so hard as to 
 strike fire with steel. They had been taken from an 
 excavation near at hand, from which an ancient statue 
 had lately been removed At the old bridge we found 
 a piece of a Roman road, which both our book and 
 our boy called the Via Consularia; and were met by a 
 party of gay young peasants, one of whom, a young man, 
 presented me with a copper coin of Trajan which he 
 had picked up in a field, and could hardly be prevail- 
 ed on to take any thing more current in return : saying, 
 that it was useless to him, and that F was a foreigner, 
 and must of course want it. Behaviour like this seems 
 very surprising to us, and it is to be hoped that it is not 
 anomalous, but may betoken a somewhat better state 
 of things in places a little removed from the great 
 routes of travellers ; although it was opposed by the 
 supplications of a well dressed girl, for a little money, 
 which however might have been in jest, as her com- 
 panions all laughed at her. 
 
 It may easily be imagined that what we had seen 
 during our walk had awakened, rather than satisfied 
 our curiosity, for among the objects which remained 
 unseen, were the ruins of Horace's second villa, and 
 his darling Blandusian fountain, which lie at a con- 
 siderable distance from the town, and in a different 
 
ROME.— TIVOLl. 283 
 
 direction. But there were numerous sites and scenes 
 yet to be visited in Rome; and we reluctantly turned 
 away from Tivoli, and with heavy hearts began to plod 
 our way across the desolate Campagna, envying the 
 pleasures we might enjoy if permitted to live among 
 scenes like those we had lately left, which seemed an 
 assemblage of our earliest and brightest fancies, such as 
 we had no power to retain in their masterly arrange- 
 ment, and which, alas ! were already beginning to fade 
 from our memory. 
 
 We found peasants at labour by companies, ip a few 
 large, but solitary fields : men and women working in 
 long lines, side by side, with spades and hoes, some- 
 times under the direction of one who stood idly by, 
 with what authority I know not, but certainly with too 
 much the air of an overseer of negroes. 
 
 Stopping at the post-house, in the middle of our jour- 
 ney, instead of the alacrity and kindness we had met 
 with at Tivoli, we were hardly able to get an answer 
 to our questions. After waiting a great while at a long 
 wooden table in the common room, and gazing at the 
 wine casks on one side, some mule harnesses on the 
 other, and a hundred little cheeses, made of cows', 
 goats', and even sheep's milk, and hanging from poles 
 over head, at last some very plain fare was set before 
 us, by the innkeeper and his wife, without a word or a 
 smile. The bread was coarse and dry, the cheese 
 almost impenetrable, and the wine thin and sour. Such 
 food, and such company ! There were several persons 
 loitering about the great room, and occasionally staring 
 at us ; but the only agreeable object in it, was a 
 little red cheeked girl, four years old, who leaned 
 over the table and smiled in our faces. " To whom does 
 this house belong ?" we inquired. " To a monastery 
 in the mountains;" replied the inn-keeper, "to which I 
 pay a rent of a hundred and forty scudi," [dollars.] 
 
284 ROME.— TIVOLI. 
 
 This seemed at first very moderate for so spacious a 
 building, including the large stables and I suppose as 
 large a garden as he pleased, for land was never 
 cheaper in Ohio or Florida ; but then though the house 
 was large, the chambers were empty, the stables occu- 
 pied by only a few post-horses, and Rome was so near 
 that nothing but necessity could bring guests here, even 
 for a single night. " This rent was always too great 
 for me," continued the man, " and this year I shall be 
 utterly unable to pay it : for the Austrian army prevent 
 foreign^s from coming to Rome, and there are no other 
 travellers." "But why do you remain here?" "Be- 
 cause I have no other home, and no means of living else- 
 where. If I were not sure of starving, I would go to-mor- 
 row: for there is a greater evil to be dreaded than the 
 demandsofthe brethren of the monastery,and that is the 
 malaria." We now began to wonder that we had not be- 
 fore particularly remarked that his face was pale and 
 sickly, and that all the others, except the child, had glaz- 
 ed eyes, and emaciated forms. "1 have the fever," added 
 the poor man, "almost the whole year; the season is now 
 very near when it always begins, and for several past 
 days I have felt a languor and debility spreading 
 through my system — the sure and well known signs of 
 its approach. Few persons ever lived here a year and 
 escaped it. The malaria seizes indifferently on any 
 age and we cannot stand against it : it ruins health, de- 
 stroys constitutions, takes away courage, removes the 
 love of life, and sooner or later life itself" " Poor little 
 thing," added the mother, parting the locks of the little 
 girl with her hand, " You have got through safe to this 
 time, but I tremble for what the coming season may 
 do" — and both parents looked anxiously in her face, as 
 if to assure themselves that the fatal symptoms had not 
 begun to appear. 
 
ROME. 285 
 
 On reaching our lodgings in Rome, we learnt with 
 pleasure that an American gentleman, with his wife, 
 had arrived during our absence, and, without know- 
 ing any thing more of us than that we were their 
 countrymen, had sent us an invitation to call as soon 
 as we should return. 
 
 February 14. — I am told that the coin of Trajan I 
 brought from Tivoli may perhaps be worth thirty dol- 
 lars, and perhaps, only its weight in copper. My Ro- 
 man friend has taken it to show to an antiquary, who 
 is well acquainted with the subject, and can readily 
 give him an answer: for antiques form so large a 
 share of the commerce of modern Rome, that the 
 prices are proportioned with a triple regard to their 
 intrinsic value, their abundance or rarity, and their 
 age ; and in cases where the articles are as well defined 
 and easily recognised as coins are, their value is regu- 
 lated by the constant demand which is made on Rome 
 from all the cabinets of Europe, and is as well known 
 to buyers and sellers as that of a staple article of 
 merchandise in any great sea port. 
 
 During a walk this morning with our new American 
 friends, we took a review of the Roman Forum, the 
 Colosseum, and other noble scenes and monuments, 
 both ancient and modern ; and the pleasure was not 
 a little increased by the privilege we enjoyed of ob- 
 serving and participating in their first impressions upon 
 the mind of an intelligent and amiable countrywoman. 
 We stopped at the Sacred Staircase, and while read- 
 ing over the list of sins and negligences for which 
 the pope has decreed that pardon may be obtained by 
 performing certain ceremonies there, a poor fellow 
 came up and offered to show us, by imitation, how the 
 devout ascend the stairs, fixing his price at a paolo, 
 or ten cents : but we had soon an opportunity to see 
 
286 I^OWE. 
 
 several persons come in and begin to mount the steps 
 on their knees, counting their beads, from time to 
 time, and crossing themselves, according to the letter 
 of the rules. No one pretends to stand there upon his 
 feet, although the steps are covered with thick plank, to 
 prevent their being entirely worn away, of which there 
 was great danger; but after reaching the top they 
 walk down by side steps, and frequently begin the 
 ascent again and again. 
 
 Afterwards, returning to the Capitoline Hill with 
 one of my friends, I made a more particular examina- 
 tion than ever before, of the numerous remains of an- 
 tiquity collected there. On the front or north side of 
 the Capitol, is a fine square, bounded on the right and 
 left by the Grand Museum, and the palaces of the 
 Senate and of the Conservators. It opens on the 
 fourth side at the noble staircase of 124 steps, lead- 
 ing into the Campus Martins, where was formerly the 
 steepest part of the hill, and the spot where the Gauls 
 climbed up, and were prevented from taking the cita- 
 del of Rome by the cackling of a goose, which was 
 roosting on this spot. The Museum has already been 
 mentioned ; and before speaking of the opposite pala- 
 ces, I would just enumerate some of the statues in 
 the great square, which appeared far more interesting 
 since we were able to refer them to the places where 
 they formerly stood : a fountain ornamented with two 
 recumbent statues of the gods of the Nile and the 
 Tiber, from the Quirinal Hill ; the supposed eques- 
 trian statue of Constantine, from the Lateran; the 
 trophies of Marius, or Augustus; Castor and Pollux, 
 colossal, from PompeyvS theatre; and the first mile 
 stone from the Appian Way, in the form of a short 
 column, half covered with an inscription and termi- 
 nating with a ball. In the Senate Room is a small 
 
ROME. 287 
 
 wolf in bronze, accompanied by the children Romu- 
 lus and Remus, found under the brow of the Palatine 
 Hill. A fracture may be observed in the right hinder 
 leg of the animal, which has in some measure the ap- 
 pearance of having been melted out ; and it was with 
 no small interest we heard, that this is commonly re- 
 ceived as the identical wolf which was struck by 
 lighlnii]g on the day preceding the death of Caesar — 
 a season remarkable for prodigies : when 
 
 " The graves stood tenantless ; and the sheeted dead 
 Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets." 
 
 The palace of the Conservatori is so abundant in pic- 
 tures and so well known, as to excuse the want of 
 a description. It is quite bewildering to a stranger 
 even to walk hastily through the halls and saloons in 
 which they are exhibited ; but when he pauses in turn 
 before each object, and refers to its design and his- 
 tory, the mind proves still more incompetent to the 
 task of retaining any ideas at all concerning a large 
 portion of them. There was however a modern in- 
 scription composed for the place, which contains a 
 more touching appeal to ancient times than I have 
 found, Except in the improvisatore, unless indeed my 
 Latin has entirely failed me, or the mutilated statues 
 around produced an effect which I unconsciously as- 
 cribed to the lines. 
 
 Coming out of a side door from this palace, we pro- 
 ceeded along near the southern brow of the Capito- 
 line Hill, in search of a very interesting site described 
 by our book. A narrow street appeared, so crowded 
 with miserable houses that nothing else was to be seen 
 on either hand ;' and the pavement was so filthy that it 
 required no small resokition to proceed, particularly 
 when we received an addition to our society of six 
 
288 KOME. 
 
 or eight little ragged beggars. One of them offered 
 to conduct us to the place we sought; and leading us 
 near to where the street ended in nothing, mounted a 
 few steps, knocked at the door of a poor woman's 
 house, and when the inhabitant appeared, made us 
 over to her care. No one 1 am sure could have ima- 
 gined whither this was to lead ; and we hesitated 
 some time before we could be convinced that there 
 was no mistake in the case. At length we followed 
 the Roman dame through a narrow entry, up a lowlj 
 staircase, and over a tub of water from which she 
 was washing it, and at last into a little three-cornered 
 garden, which was raised so high by the irregularity 
 of the ground, and where the sun was shining cheer- 
 fully upon the flowers of merely useful herbs and 
 kitchen vegetables. Below us we immediately recog- 
 nised the Palatine in front, the Forum on the left, and 
 the Temple of Peace, and the Colosseum beyond. 
 Stepping to the low garden wall on the right, we found 
 ourselves on the brow of a precipice, which, though 
 interrupted by a narrow terrace, descended very ab- 
 ruptly to the level of the streets below, a distance of 
 fifty or sixty feet. In spite therefore of its humble ac- 
 cess, and the manner in which it is covered with soil, 
 excepting where a few stony angles project here and 
 there, we could easily persuade ourselves that, as our 
 guide assured us, many an old Roman had met his 
 death by being plunged from this height, and that we 
 were standing on the Tarpeian Rock. 
 
 At some distance from this spot and at the base of 
 the Capitoline Hill, not far from the other side of the 
 Capitol itself, we found the ancient Tullian and Ma- 
 mertine Prisons, but not until we had past them seve- 
 ral times; for like most other places which are regard- 
 ed as sanctified by the saints, they are quite conceal- 
 
KOME, 
 
 289 
 
 ed by architectural decorations. First we entered 'a 
 small room where about a dozen people, principally of 
 the poorer class, were on their knees at silent prayer, 
 near a ballustrade behind which were hung innumera- 
 ble little offerings or memorials left there by the 
 devout : locks ofi^hair, bits of gilt paper, &c. &c. 
 A long inscription in the midst of these held forth that 
 Saints Peter and Paul were formerly imprisoned in the 
 dungeons below; but in order to gain access to them 
 we had to go round to the door of a church which has 
 been built directly over the spot, first observing how- 
 ever an official paper of the Pope's stuck up in a glass 
 frame, by which instrument he kindly granted, to all 
 who should perform certain forms and duties therein 
 prescribed, the remission of one third of their sins. 
 But there seemed a little like subtlety in this when it 
 was referred to that plain rule of arithmetic, which says 
 that no such division as this will ever reduce even a 
 small sum to nothing. A little boy at the church conduct- 
 ed us down a staircase, by lamp light, into a small and 
 nearly circular arched room, built entirely of large un- 
 cemented blocks of stone, about 20 feet in diameter, 
 and 7 or 8 in height. It was built by Ancus Martius, 
 the fourth king of the Romans, and formerly was 
 accessible only by the hole in the roof, over which the 
 goaler's house was built. This was the Mamertine 
 Prison : the Tullian is immediate under it, formed on 
 the same plan and of the same materials, but smaller 
 and lower, so that a man of common stature can stand 
 erect no where but in the middle of the floor. This 
 was designed by Servius Tullius as a place of confine- 
 ment for the worst offenders, who were lowered down 
 through the holes in both roofs ; and here it is said 
 Saint Peter and Saint Paul were imprisoned for 
 many months, and performed various miracles, for 
 
 37 
 
290 ^OME. 
 
 which cause it is that peculiar sanctity is attributed to 
 the place. Here we saw a narrow stone slab fastened 
 to the wall, which our little guide informed us served 
 the saints as a table ; a half decayed iron post, to 
 which they were chained ; and a spring, usually cover- 
 ed up, which first appeared to furnish water for the 
 baptism of several martyrs, who were imprisoned with 
 Saint Paul. There certainly was something very 
 solemn in the sight of these objects, when we reflect- 
 ed that what we heard might have some foundation in 
 truth : for nothing thus far seemed contradictory to 
 the account of Saint Paul's residence in Rome given in 
 the New Testament ; and the silence, the gloom, and 
 the dungeon-aspect of the place, forcibly recalled 
 the circumstances of that period, and naturally led the 
 mind to the exalted character of the apostle, and the 
 sublime range his meditations might have taken in 
 that very spot. But we were much more inclined to 
 questions and doubts, when we heard the supersti- 
 tious story of the fountain still springing up annually 
 on the anniversary of the day ; and that of a subter- 
 ranean passage, (of which we saw nothing but the 
 shut and bolted door,) made by an angel who came in 
 the night and delivered the prisoners, leading them 
 under ground beyond the walls of the city, near one 
 of the gates : and were shown on the wall the shape 
 of a head, with a long beard, which one of the apos- 
 tles is said to have made by resting his cheek against 
 the stone. 
 
 During a stroll through the Public Garden towards 
 evening, we observed an English lady pass in an open 
 carriage, attended only by a coachman and a foot- 
 man in livery. It might be judged from her air that 
 she made no small pretensions to taste and learning : 
 for though her hat was more than sufficiently deco- 
 
ROME. -THE COLOSSEUM. 291 
 
 rated with flowers, she had plainly been out on a ruin- 
 hunt, having two volumes of Strangers' Guides care- 
 lessly thrown upon the cushion, and near half a bushel 
 of large stones lying loose at her feet. Such a speci- 
 men of dilapidation made us tremble for some of our 
 favourite ancient monuments, which, after surviving so 
 long the ravages of time, were threatened with speedy 
 annihilation by the hand of pedantic Gothicism. 
 
 11 o'clock at. night. — We have just returned from a 
 nocturnal visit to the Colosseum, which we had been 
 delaying for some time, till the age of the moon and the 
 hour of her meridian should be most favourable to our 
 purpose. This evening we set off between nine and 
 ten, and found the sky still calm and unclouded, and 
 the streets quiet and nearly deserted, although our way 
 lay through some of the most populous parts of the city. 
 The dreary Forum, overspread with an undistinguish- 
 able mass of ruin, lay in deadly silence as if it had no 
 voice to raise against the triumphant victory of time ; 
 and a few stately columns here and there, touched by 
 the moon, seemed like the dim forms of spectres haunt- 
 ing some ancient battle field, and bending over deep 
 and unknown graves. 
 
 Entering one of the portals of the Colosseum, and 
 crossing the two lofty parallel corridors, we climbed 
 up the ruins of a staircase to the second floor, and 
 then with still greater difliculty to the third, by a steep 
 ascent of brickwork more than half broken down. 
 Great care was necessary in proceeding to the north- 
 eastern side of the building, where we expected to 
 find the best point of view : for the double corridors 
 had their plastered floors broken through in several 
 places, and if we attempted to follow the short passa- 
 ges or the flights of steps which once conducted the 
 spectators to their places, there was danger of sud- 
 
292 ROME.— THE COLOSSEUM. 
 
 denly falling to a great depth, for the seats have 
 long since disappeared. The arches and columns, 
 broken and interrupted as they frequently were, also 
 tended to perplex our way, by throwing over us alter- 
 nately deep darkness and bright beams of moonlight, 
 so that we soon began to repent our thoughtlessness in 
 neglecting to take for a guide one of the friars who 
 have a chapel among the ruins, and are always ready 
 to conduct strangers. Not being very fond of the dic- 
 tatorial volubility which they usually possess how- 
 ever, particularly on an occasion like the present, we 
 proceeded, and at length stopped at a place which 
 was impassable, on the verge of a mural precipice 
 about a hundred feet high. Turning toward the 
 centre of the building, we were half surrounded by 
 huge, shapeless masses of masonry on the right and 
 left, some presenting columns of darkness that seemed 
 as if blackened by a conflagration, and others stand- 
 ing out in the broad moonlight, while their shadows 
 were pursuing their silent course along the broken 
 floor, and adding another hour to the ages of desola- 
 tion. Many similar masses appeared in confusion 
 just below : but as the eye pursued the circuit within 
 the lofty walls on either side, it traced the long sweep- 
 ing lines of broken parapets, which still, as if in derision, 
 marked rndely out the ancient bounds between dif- 
 ferent grades of citizens. Far to the right and left they 
 extended to follow the form of the building, till they en- 
 tered the deep uniform shape of the southern wall near- 
 ly eight hundred feet distant, where they met and com- 
 pleted many a noble elliptic curve. Such fantastic 
 figures did the clear but deceptive moon seem to conjure 
 up before us, with its lights and shadows displayed in 
 every form and varied with all the degrees of inten- 
 sity, that the fancy was continually inclined to people 
 
ROME.—THE COLOSSEUM. 293 
 
 the broken tiers with gigantic spectators, waiting in 
 silence for some mysterious show in the empty arena. 
 Yet the impression of desertion and decay still dwelt 
 upon the mind ; for the massive columns above us 
 were hung with creeping vines, and little banks of moss 
 spread their green and sickly hue over many a rude 
 pinnacle below, once the envied stations of the great 
 and honourable men of Rome. The eye shrunk from 
 pursuing the light, as it mounted with bold steps from 
 one mouldering pile to another, and slept in dangerous 
 security on the ridge of the *outer wall ; while the 
 heart ached at the dark gulfs that yawned around, and 
 in the irksome society of the impending ruins. 
 
 In the broad arena many early Christians had shed 
 their blood, and eighty thousand persons had looked 
 down at once from the sides of this mountain-like 
 edifice, upon the calm demeanour of those who had 
 received the precepts of the gospel from Paul's own 
 lips. The sanguinary scenes of the gladiators served 
 to remind us of other and more mysterious deeds of 
 blood, which are said to have been perpetrated in this 
 place within the compass of but a very few years ; for we 
 had heard the tal*^ of a friar who was discovered to be 
 the foul murderer of many a stranger here at night, 
 after leading him to some lonely part of the ruins 
 under the pretence of being a frieridly conductor. 
 We heard voices, and soon perceived that a party of 
 persons were approaching the place where we stood. 
 For fear our sudden • appearance might give them 
 some anxiety, we stepped into the shade of a column, 
 and the next moment one of the cowled brethren of 
 the chapel passed very near, with a lamp in his hand, 
 followed by a young Englishman, his mother and four or 
 five pretty little brothers and sisters. The matron had 
 a handsome, intelligent face ; and while her dignified 
 
294 ROME.—THE COLOSSEUM. 
 
 deportment and the sweetness of her voice in speak- 
 ing to her children, showed that they had an aflTec- 
 tionate instructress and a lofty example in the path of 
 virtue, the deep sparkles in her eye proved that she 
 partook with rapture in the sublimity of the scene. 
 Doubly mild was the moonlight that fell on this amia- 
 ble group, as they stood gazing upon the amphithea- 
 tre thoughtless of harm ; and sweeter than ever the 
 sound of our native tongue, as they spoke the praises 
 of ancient Rome. They repassed without perceiving 
 us, and disappeared arhong the columns of the corri- 
 dors, so that we saw them no more ; although a lamp 
 glimmered two or three times along the deep shades 
 of the opposite walls, as they moved slowly on through 
 the almost endless passages. 
 
 Rome, February 15. Having risen at an early hour 
 this morning, I mounted the magnificent staircase of 
 white stone which leads from the neighbouring 
 Spanish Square up the Pincian Hill. The mere fact 
 that this staircase was built to form a more conve- 
 nient and elegant access to a church, is sufficient indi- 
 cation that the supremacy of ecclesiastical subjects is 
 very extensive in Rome ; nor does the interior of the 
 " Church of the Trinity of the mountains," to which 
 it now conducts, offer a different aspect. It was 
 founded by Charles Vllf. of France, and restored and 
 decorated by Louis XVIH. The splendid altars 
 erected in some of the chapels, together with the 
 paintings from the hands of esteemed masters, which 
 hang upon the walls, are too numerous to be described, 
 and indeed to be particularly noticed after a hasty 
 inspection. In truth it is to be confessed that many 
 persons must necessarily feel that such exhibitions are 
 displayed almost in vain in such a place, where it 
 continually recurs to mind how easily they may 
 
ROME.— THE COLOSSEUM. 295 
 
 become the objects of superstitious regard. Besides, 
 the altars made of costly party-coloured stones, and 
 the sculptured monuments raised, not to the humble, 
 the contrite, but to those who have endowed the 
 church with their estates : — all these speak too loudly 
 the praises of worldly splendour to claim the chief 
 station in so sacred a place. The decorations of the 
 walls seemed striving for victory with the memory 
 of the dead who slept beneath our feet ; with what 
 success may be imagined, when it is mentioned that 
 every stone of the pavement seemed to have once 
 borne an epitaph, and many an ancient family crest 
 lay trodden on and half obliterated before us. 
 
 The sun was rising as 1 left the church and walked 
 towards the English Garden. From this elevated 
 ground along the brow of the hill, the whole extent of 
 the Campus Martins was overlooked, while the towers 
 and cupolas which rose above the confused mass of 
 the city, caught one by one a strong reflectior' from the 
 east. The top of St. Peter's lay in front, quite at the 
 north-western corner of the city ; and in short, among 
 all that assemblage of buildings which cover the Cam- 
 pus Martins, nothing appears above the general sur- 
 face to recal ancient times, except perhaps the dome of 
 the Pantheon and the column of Antonine : for the (ew 
 scattered edifices of which it once could boast either 
 have entirely disappeared, like the Senate House of 
 Pompey, and the naval theatre of Domitian which 
 some supposed occupied the site of the Spanish 
 Square ; or have retained only a few shattered 
 remains, like the tomb of Augustus, the Por*ico of 
 Octavia, the Theatre of iMarceitus, and the eleven un- 
 known columns built into the Custom House. 
 
 Our Roman friend informs us that the Pope's guards 
 were called out at near twelve last night, and ordered 
 
296 ROME. 
 
 to the Vatican ; and that the whole city was already 
 in a state of alarm when he reached the Corso : new§ 
 having arrived that the Neapolitans had crossed their 
 boundary in three places, and were on their march to 
 Rome. On account of our secluded residence we had 
 heard nothing of the tumult; but troops were hastily, 
 assembled, and dispatched to different posts, and the 
 Pope's horses were harnessed and led out, ready to 
 convey him to Civita Vecchia, at the Tiber's mouth, 
 where a- vessel has been for some time kept ready to 
 sail at a moment's warning, under an apprehension of 
 such an event. The alarm however proved to be false, 
 and the agitation subsided. 
 
 After breakfast several of our party, including our 
 new friends, took a walk to St. Peter's. It seems to be 
 quite impossible for the memory to do justice to the 
 size of this building, for every time we enter it, we are 
 little less astonished at its vastness than we were at 
 first. The great reason why strangers so often com- 
 plain of never being able to comprehend it, even on the 
 spot, is that the mere decorations of the church are 
 all graduated on the same gigantic scale. The statues 
 of the saints on the columns are nearly twice the size of 
 common men, and the sculptured angels supporting 
 some of the founts of holy water, though they pass for 
 infantile forms, are near six feet high. Thus the eye 
 is deceived in measuring heights and distances, by as- 
 suming a scale by far too large; and hence it is, that 
 we feel that indescribable awkwardness when we move, 
 arisino; from an equal mistake concerning our own 
 stature, which makes our steps scarcely half so long 
 as we expected, and shrinks us up to the narrow dimen- 
 sions of pigmies. While standing still in the middle of 
 the floor, with nothing near to compare directly with 
 the human form, a person will admire the magnificence 
 
ROME.-ST. PETER'S. 297 
 
 tind the majesty of the building; but the effect is re- 
 doubled in an instant, when he approaches one of the 
 grand columns, and finds his head reaching no higher 
 than the top of the pedestal — when he looks beyond 
 and reflects that the opposite window is seven hundred 
 feet distant, and yonder little twisted columns, which 
 support the canopy over the altar, are each seventy 
 feet high. 
 
 Mrs. had permitted her waiting maid to ac- 
 company her, it having been for many days her press- 
 ing request, that she might see St. Peter's but for once : 
 a thing which she deliberately intended to be proud 
 of for the rest of her life. And in truth, it is a gratifica- 
 tion which few of her kinsfolk can expect to enjoy: 
 for she, like ourselves, was from the other side of the 
 Atlantic, and knew those who loved to hear of foreign 
 wonders. All this we could perceive, as she stood 
 there to represent an unsophisticated country, with 
 her sad-coloured cotton shawl, calf-skin shoes, and 
 modest sun-bonnet, though she neither spoke nor 
 smiled ; and from her deep-rooted gaze, now fixed, 
 now wandering, we knew she was better pleased than 
 the English cockney at our Niagara, who complained 
 that it did not answer his expectations. 
 
 The bronze statue of the patron saint is placed ou 
 the left of the altar, and is the only prominent figure 
 not larger than the natural size. The toe is not entire- 
 ly worn away by kissing, as has been often stated, but 
 has certainly lost a very considerable piece. The 
 waste however is not occasioned by the lips, but by the 
 hands or handkerchiefs of the devout, which we obser- 
 ved were always passed over the surface before the lips 
 are applied, nierely to improve the association of ideas. 
 
 I know not how many confession-boxes are scatter- 
 ed about the church, but there is certainly one for each 
 
 38 
 
298 HOME.— ST. PETER»S. 
 
 of the principal languages spoken in Europe. Could 
 assent be once yielded to some of the points which 
 Protestants have always contested so strenuously, it 
 is easy to see that the natural impression of this trans- 
 cendant piece of architecture would be greatly height- 
 ened by a crowd of solemn reflections. Could we be- 
 lieve that the body of St. Peter actually lies buried in 
 the splendid vault beneath the high altar, that "on this 
 rock" the church was founded, in the sense supposed 
 in Italy, that the keys of hell and death were trans- 
 mitted from him to his pretended successors, and that 
 the present pontiff, Pius the seventh, has the power of 
 forgiving the sins of any person on earth, we should 
 look with deep solemnity on every thing around us. 
 Thousands and thousands sincerely believe all this, 
 and who that errs himself will not rather lament than 
 smile at the confidence with which they enter the 
 doors of the seven great churches in Rome, and repeat 
 the formulas prescribed by the pope, merely because 
 these words are written over the doors : 
 
 " Plenaria Indulgentia pro vivis et mortis," 
 
 and expect thus to purchase exemption from punish- 
 ment, or as some say, from purgatory, either for them- 
 selves or their departed friends ? Can power like this 
 have been deposited in such hands ? Is the supposi- 
 tion countenanced either by the personal characters 
 of the popes, or by the effects of the system upon 
 Christendom? Is it the part of God's vicegerent to 
 shut up the Scriptures from those for whom they were 
 designed, to suspend his anathemas in modern times, 
 merely for fear of their being despised, when, accord- 
 ing to his doctrines, there never was more pressing 
 need of them? Is it acting in that high character, to 
 refuse his soldiers their promised pay, to stand pre- 
 
ROME— ST. PETEK'S. 299 
 
 pared at any moment to forsake the ecclesiastical 
 throne, to keep a vessel prepared at Civita Vecchia, 
 and horses always harnessed to escape at the earliest 
 news of danger ? There is a great difference between 
 believing and disbelieving this system, and that differ- 
 ence is strongly felt in St. Peter's. 
 
 With reflections like these we were slowly winding 
 up the tedious ascent which leads to the roof of the 
 church, and soon began to pass, one after another, 
 the points at which many of the monarchs, princes, and 
 princesses of Europe, had desisted from the toilsome 
 attempt, from the mere fatigue of their mortal, though 
 royal frames. Inscriptions affixed to the wall bore their 
 names, and the dates, while not a single plebeian, let 
 him mount to the top with ever so much alacrity, is al- 
 lowed any memorial of his strength or his perseverance. 
 The roof is so large, and occupied by so many domes 
 for the chapels below, and temporary residences for dif- 
 ferent persons, that it would be very easy for a stranger 
 to lose his way and wander about a long time. The 
 spacious roof is divided into branches like streets, and 
 cats were seen prowling about as if in a city. The 
 great dome was yet to be ascended. On approaching 
 the copper ball above it, we heard the sound of a 
 northern language, and on entering it, recognised 
 our acquaintance, the young German of Terracina 
 memory. 
 
 This edifice doubtless approaches the grandeur and 
 richness of ancient Rome, for though it was surpassed 
 in size by the Colosseum, several of the public baths, 
 &c. yet it sustains at a great height in the air, a dome, 
 little inferior in size to the famous Pantheon. 
 
 A few steps lead from the portico of St. Peter's to the 
 palace of the Vatican, which adjoins it on the left. 
 This immense building is divided into several courts. 
 
300 ROME.— ST. PETER»S. 
 
 some of which are supplied with three or four tiers of 
 open piazzas. Let me pass by in silence the saloons 
 devoted to the works of the great masters of the pencil, 
 as 1 am utterly incompetent to speak of them : although 
 it would have seemed like a matter of no great self- 
 denial, to renounce the exterior world and take up a 
 solitary abode among them. The fame of " the Trans- 
 figuration," the master-piece of Raphael, had perhaps 
 too highly excited my expectations ; yet I long remained 
 before it, observing the expression of the figures, and 
 the richness of the colours, to impress them more deep- 
 ly upon my memory. My point of view was not far 
 from the window through which the light was admitted, 
 and my mind will ever recur with great delight to that 
 secluded apartment, and to that spot, so highly favour- 
 ed above all the Vatican, and every other palace in the 
 world, to recal those features which I cannot describe, 
 and to enjoy again many new and delightful feelings 
 which I can never forget, but am totally unable to 
 express. 
 
 We entered a hall, probably about one fifth of a 
 mile in length, lined with a double row of ancient sta- 
 tues and reliefs, principally from the tombs of the Ap- 
 pian Way. Thousands, 1 think, of sepulchral inscrip- 
 tions were fastened into the walls behind them, so 
 ranged indeed as to preserve little of their original 
 appearance, yet so as to ensure their preservation. 
 
 The most interesting of these objects, at a hasty 
 examination, were those tak^n from the graves of the 
 primitive Christians, most of which bore melancholy 
 testimony to the persecutions of the times. The en- 
 gravings were usually of the rudest and most hasty de- 
 scription : ill-formed initials, succeeded too often by a 
 rude delineation of some instrument of death or of tor- 
 ture. These rough fragments of coarse stone were gen- 
 
ROME. 301 
 
 <&irally taken from those caverns in the vicinity where the 
 Christians used to assemble for secret prayer and 
 praise, in times when it was dangerous to confess their 
 faith, and where they usually deposited the ashes of 
 their dead. The symbolic drawings on these broken 
 monuments, were therefore more appropriate than 
 elaborate epitaphs on the most eloquent marble ; 
 and nothing else could have spoken so plainly of per- 
 secution, endurance and martyrdom, as these rude and 
 often doubtful outlines of a sword, an axe, a spear, and 
 even of the dog, the bear, and the Lybian lion. 
 
 Returning across the bridge, and pursuing our way 
 for a mile along the narrow and dirty streets near the 
 eastern bank, with only an occasional view of the river, 
 we came to the Tiberine Island, off against which, 
 and in one of the most populous and disagreeable 
 parts of the city, are the remains of the Theatre of 
 Marcellus, built by Augustus. They present to the 
 street a curve of that noble wall which once con- 
 tained 30,000 spectators ; and although the corridors 
 have been divided into habitations, according to the 
 usual ideas of elegance now prevalent in Rome, and 
 the grand entrances are reduced to the size of doors 
 and windows, and, when rented, are stocked with dirty 
 faces, or old clothes and other mean merchandise, 
 the ancient Doric and Ionic pilasters retain their 
 places between and above them. The architecture, 
 disgraced as it is, is regarded with admiration by con- 
 noisseurs, and considered as the highest authority in 
 every question relating to the rules of those two styles, 
 such is the perfection and beauty of its proportions. 
 
 The ancient entrance to the magnificent Portico of 
 Octavia, was to be sought in the immediate vicinity of 
 this spot, and was soon found facing an open square, 
 occupied, even to the massive foundations of that Au- 
 
302 ROME—JEWS' QUARTER. 
 
 gustan ruin, by the stalls and the scaly wares of a fish- 
 market. Such things must be endured in Rome! I 
 sought oblivion in a long, narrow street before me, 
 which appeared to be remarkably crowded with peo- 
 ple. Both sides were lined with little shops, that 
 were completely stuffed with inhabitants, darken- 
 ed with the innumerable articles exposed for sale, 
 and unusually noisy with the hum of voices. 1 had 
 hardly entered the street when 1 was eagerly accosted 
 by a young man, and soon afterwards by an old one, 
 who seemed resolved never to leave me, until I should 
 consent to enter their shops, as if hungry, nay, fam- 
 ished for trade. The way was lined and obstructed 
 by men, women and children, pursuing all sorts of 
 occupations, with an alacrity I had never before wit- 
 nessed, unless in some busy manufactory : certainly 
 never in Italy. On a sudden I recollected myself — 
 1 was in the Jews' Quarter; and this immediately 
 explained the undefined strangeness of every thing 
 around me. 
 
 Here were men bent down with age, watching their 
 little treasures of trinkets, or old shoes, with the 
 strongly marked physiognomy of their nation, and 
 their long beards and keen eyes, like hawks over their 
 prey; and there, a beautiful child, or a tall young 
 Jewess, with the round face, black eyes, and noble 
 form of her countrywomen, habited in a singular cos- 
 tume, and fit for a Rebecca of York, or even a Queen 
 Esther. Notwithstanding the poverty manifested by 
 many of them in their employments, and the crowded 
 manner in which they are compelled to live by the 
 severity of the government, the universal bustle at- 
 tested strong habits of industry; and no one could 
 reflect on their descent without a sentiment of respect, 
 for the pride with which they trace their relationship to 
 
KOME. 3()3 
 
 the captives taken at Jerusalem, and the stern perse- 
 verance of their character, which has not suffered 
 one of them to pass through the Arch of Titus since 
 the day of his triumph, and even extends to every 
 person around, of whatsoever age or sex. 
 
 They are however no less the children of those 
 who once assembled to hear the Gospel from the lips 
 of St. Paul, and whose resolute unbeHef drew from 
 him that solemn prophecy now so strikingly fulfilled ; 
 " Be it known therefore unto you that the salvation of 
 God is sent unto the Gentiles, and that they will hear 
 it." Here they are, Jews still, like their fathers, 
 while the doctrines of Paul have overspread half the 
 world. 
 
 Having passed several ruins, some distance below 
 this, where the river bends off to the south-west, we 
 saw two or three shapeless heaps in the middle of the 
 stream, which are the old piers of the Sublitian 
 Bridge; and just beyond a few boats with latteen 
 sails, the fleet, the navy of modern Rome. Decli- 
 ning from the shore, a road led us between vineyard 
 walls and waste grounds, along under the western 
 brow of the Palatine Hill, which, like the Aventine 
 on our right, is divided between cultivated fields, reli- 
 gious edifices, and Roman ruins, and presents them at 
 almost every step in some new, but rather discordant 
 point of view. We several times trod over broad 
 brick walls sunk in the ground, which on a reference 
 to our books proved to have belonged to the Circus 
 Maximus, whose immense horse-shoe form might be 
 dimly traced on the surface of the gentle valley at 
 our right, very narrow, it is true, in proportion to its 
 breadth, but stretching along for nearly half a mile. 
 The lower part of this ground, which still retains its 
 artificial smoothness, is supposed to have been a naval 
 
304 l^OME.— THE APPIAN WAY. 
 
 theatre, for the mimic sea-fights ; and furnished with 
 water from the baths of Caracalla, the immense ruins 
 of which appeared among the open vineyards a mile 
 before us. On our left were the confused arches of 
 the Palace of the Caesars, to which we found access 
 through the gate of a small house. It was a dizzy 
 sight to look up at the noble arches of brick-work 
 overhanging us at the height of about sixty feet^ 
 sometimes oppressed as they were by a second row 
 of scarcely less gigantic dimensions. The sun was 
 low in the west, and shone full upon those naked piles, 
 while a solitary little bird, perched among the ivy 
 which clustered round their summits, began its melo- 
 dious little song, as if to furnish a striking contrast to 
 their awful size and solemn stillness. 
 
 Rome, February 16. — Ever since the first glimpse I had 
 caught of the Appian Way, I had felt a strong desire to 
 examine its numberless and venerable ruins at leisure, 
 and to contract a more intimate acquaintance with that 
 most imposing entrance to the city. With this view, 
 at an early hour this morning, I left the city by the 
 Gate of St, Paul, adjoining which is the noble pyra- 
 midal tomb of Caius Cestius; and at the distance of a 
 mile beyond, turned off to the left by a winding little 
 road which seemed to promise a speedy communica- 
 tion with the Appian Way. My expectations however 
 soon proved to be ill-founded : for after a walk of 
 some time, and getting involved among gentle hills 
 and clumps of bushes which grew here and there, 
 the road divided itself into so many paths, and 
 declined so far towards the south, that it evidently 
 could conduct me to nothing but one of the neigh- 
 bouring farm-houses, and it was necessary to take a 
 short cut across the fields. Among the walls I had 
 already noticed the yellow stones i take for volcanic, 
 
KOME.-THE APPIAN WAY. 305 
 
 which are frequently seen scattered in the vicinity of 
 Rome ; and here, among the fields of grass and the 
 vineyards, were the still more frequent remains of 
 ancient buildings. Many a shapeless heap of rub- 
 bish lay on the right and left, generally overspread 
 with a mournful veil of ivy ; and the site of many a long 
 forgotten mansion was indicated only by its shattered 
 bricks and marble, spread like a mere intermixture of 
 gravel, for a large space around, or by a stratum of 
 similar materials laid open by the path, when it 
 penetrated the surface a little deeper than ordi- 
 nary. The fields were large, the land poor, the in- 
 habitants few and the dwellings mean. Broad ditches 
 and tall hedges usually await travellers in all coun- 
 tries who wander from the high road, and this tract of 
 country is by no means an exception to the general 
 rule. In spite of them all however, and some mental 
 bewildering produced by the numerous memorials or 
 rather hints of former and better days, the tomb of 
 Horatia and the Appian Way appeared in sight at the 
 end of an hour. 
 
 A little beyond, on the right hand, stood a hand- 
 some church, and taking my book from my pocket, I 
 began to search for a history of it. An old priest 
 stood near talking with a little girl about eight years 
 old. She was knitting as she talked, and occasionally 
 turned a watchful eye on several large grey oxen, 
 which were feeding close by. She seemed to carry 
 herself with much respect towards the priest ; but 
 there was something in her remarks that made him 
 occasionally turn his face to smile. — " Many have 
 supposed," said my book, " that an ancient temple of 
 Apollo once occupied this spot, and that this church 
 was founded by Constantino ; but it is more probable 
 that, in the year 367, Pope St. Damasus built it^ over 
 
 39 
 
306 ROME—THE APPIAN WAY. 
 
 the spot where the bodies of St. Peter and St. Paul 
 were discovered, in the tomb of St. Calistus, near the 
 Appian Way, and near the place where St. Sebastian 
 was interred by St. Lucina, a Roman lady. The 
 church was restored by Adrian 1. and Eugene IV. 
 Finally Cardinal Borghese entirely rebuilt it, in 1611, 
 adding the front and the portico, after the design of 
 Flaminius Ponzio, succeeded by Giovanni Vasanzio, a 
 Fleming. He decorated the great altar, which has 
 four columns of verde-antique," &;c. &c. 
 
 As the old priest had now gone away, the little girl 
 walked slowly towards me, looking by turns at the 
 cattle and the stranger, and knitting very sedately. 
 " Is this the church of St. Lorenzo, little girl ?" 
 " Signor si, [yes sir,] will you go in and see it ? Shall 
 I go and call brother Luigi back ?" " No, no, I have 
 no time to spare — You have some fine oxen yonder." 
 " Yes sir, they are very good and quiet. They let me 
 take care of them, and do every thing I tell them, 
 although I am a little girl. There are only nine now ; 
 the other has gone away — the companion of that you 
 see on the little bank. I don't believe you ever saw 
 better oxen sir. Only observe what a good grey 
 colour they have : that is the best colour for oxen." — 
 She wore a bonnet made of coarse braided straw, and 
 carried another tied to her arm. She had a most 
 amiable little face, and 1 thought might have been 
 taken for a New England child, even to the crooked 
 rusty knitting-needles she had in her hands. The 
 stocking however was of brown thread ;" her knitting- 
 sheath a hollow stick, (perhaps elder,) and when she 
 spoke, it was only Italian. " Is that your first stock-^ 
 ing ?" " Signor no — I have knit a w hole pair before 
 this, for you will perceive I can knit almost all day, 
 while the weather is so clear and warm, though I 
 
ROME.— THE APPIAN WAY. 3Q7 
 
 am sometimes interrupted when the oxen stray, and 
 very often by my little sister you see there, running 
 up to us with her hair flying. She is not my sister 
 either, but the daughter of my mother-in-law. Her 
 name is Maria — I am Teresa — Ah, Maria ! Where 
 have you been to get your cheeks so red ? Come here 
 and put on your bonnet." But the bright-eyed little 
 girl refused and resisted, from mere excess of spirits ; 
 and though more wild and roguish, was quite as good 
 natured as her sister. " There signor, you see what a 
 trouble she is : she won't mind me. She is very bad 
 [cattiva,] do you not think so ? — But would not you 
 like to go in and see the church sir ? You will find 
 the chapel of San Fabiano, and that of San Sebas- 
 tiano over his own tomb. Oh, they are very beautiful. 
 You can see the catacombs too sir, where all the 
 Christians were buried; and if brother Luigi were 
 only here — I'll ring the bell, and then he'll come back, 
 and tell you a great deal about them. He knows all 
 the chapels, and the statues, and the pictures, and 
 where the Christians used to pray under ground, and 
 bury the martyrs." 
 
 1 was too much in haste, and contented myself with 
 a hasty glance at the interior of the church, without 
 waiting for the catacombs to be opened, concerning 
 which my book confirmed the words of my little friend. 
 As I came out she asked me for some money, though 
 with a downcast look and an actual blush, which on 
 account of their rarity speedily atoned for a speci- 
 men of that avarice far more common in this coun- 
 try. " How can you ask me for any thing," said 
 I, " when you have nine large oxen like those, and I 
 have not one, and never had any." " Please to bear in 
 mind, signor," she answered, coming nearer with her 
 needle pointed at me — " Please to bear in mind that 
 they are not my oxen. They belong to Giuseppe 
 
308 ROME.— THE APPIAN WAY. 
 
 [Joseph,] a gentleman who leaves them with us to be 
 taken care of, and pays us very little for it. Giuseppe 
 lives in Rome. My house [casa mia] is only a little 
 way from here. Will you go and see it ? Come, I 
 will show it you. — Thank you signor — But if you 
 don't give Maria a baiocch' too, I am afraid she will 
 cry." Maria did indeed begin to look sorrowful, and 
 was just about to cry — or, as Teresa expressed it, to 
 set herself to weeping — but she could not dissemble, and 
 broke out in a broad laugh, while Teresa bade me 
 " addio" with a sweet smile. 
 
 Such a child as this would be pretty in any part of 
 the world ; but here, her amiable traits of character 
 and innocent little features were singularly set off by 
 the solemn, pompous ideas to which the surround- 
 ing objects conducted the mind, like the sparrow 
 chirping among the ruins of Caesar's Palace. The 
 mind does not readily mingle little things and great in 
 this manner — abstract grandeur with the less heroic 
 realities of common life. I had not calculated on 
 finding such a little personage as Teresa in such a 
 place, and I could not help repeating : " Can this be 
 the Appian Way .f^" 
 
 The little church of St. Mary of the Palms was 
 soon in sight, and as usual the old priest started from 
 the door as soon as he was aware of my approach ; 
 and walking to meet me, proposed to show me " the 
 Holy Stone." This church is built over the ancient 
 Appian Way, and a considerable length of the pave- 
 ment is still visible outside of its walls. It is said to 
 have derived its name from its being on the site of the 
 famous Temple of Mars, which was surrounded with 
 palm trees. But it has also two names beside this, 
 one of which is " Domine, quo vadis ?" because it is 
 believed that St. Peter once met our Saviour on 
 this spot, carrying his cross upon his shoulder, and 
 
HOlVrE.— THE APPIAN WAY. 3Q9 
 
 addressed him in those words, [in English, Lord 
 where goest thou ?] On entering the door I found 
 that the section of the road which it contained served 
 partly for a floor ; and that a small iron grating was 
 fastened over a block of marble, which had been sub- 
 stituted for one of the stones, and bore the figure of a 
 human foot, most rudely sculptured, with the toes all 
 of the same length and terminating in a line. This 
 my officious instructor informed me was intended as a 
 copy of the original stone, which had been miracu- 
 lously impressed with the foot of our Saviour when 
 seen by the apostle. That stone had long been re- 
 moved, to preserve it from the touch of the devout, 
 who sometimes resort to the place in great numbers ; 
 and yet they have such a superstitious regard for this 
 substitute, that it would soon be worn out but for 
 the iron bars. The priest would gladly have had me 
 spend an hour or two with him, I have no doubt, for he 
 was quite talkative, and urged me to look at a few 
 other curiosities in the church ; but having much more 
 to do than himself, I left him, and soon passed over the 
 ground mentioned a few days since, by the Circus of 
 Caracalla, to the Tomb of Cecilia Metella. 
 
 Beyond the quadrangular walls of the little Gothic 
 fortress, was a cluster of houses stretching half a mile, 
 with some cultivated ground ; and there, as well as in 
 many places before, huge heaps of masonry, some of 
 them sixty feet high, would start up from behind 
 clumps of ornamental trees, and in the midst of grass- 
 plats and flower-gardens ; the remains of those mag- 
 nificent tombs which once overshadowed the Appian 
 Way. But all the habitations soon disappeared, to- 
 gether with the cultivation and the enclosures of the 
 fields ; and the road suddenly degenerated into a mere 
 path overgrown with short grass. In front and on 
 
310 ROME— The appian way. 
 
 both sides the view was extensive, over the waste, 
 undulating surface of the Campagna, where desolation 
 had reduced every thing to the same dull monotony. 
 Long lines of aqueducts however were seen at various 
 distances, stretching away towards the distant moun- 
 tains; and, nearer at hand, those solemn objects which 
 so deeply impress the mind at the first sight of this 
 ancie^it road, served as a partial boundary to the eye, 
 excluding a cheerless lai/dscape only to introduce 
 their own more melancholy presence. The signs of 
 life had all disappeared, and two long lines of ancient 
 tombs led on hefore us like so many dark statues of 
 ruin and decay, till they almost seemed to meet ; and 
 the road could just be discerned, at the distance often 
 miles, running up the opposite hill to Albano like a 
 mere thread. 
 
 The custom so universal among the Romans, of 
 burying their dead along the principal roads without 
 their city walls, must have had some influence on their 
 character : for as they were a nation of soldiers, they 
 were necessarily travellers, and thus the last objects 
 they saw in leaving home, as well the first on their 
 return, were the tombs of their ancestors. That the 
 sepulchres of the Appian Way was peculiarly nume- 
 rous and magnificent, there is sufficient evidcFice from 
 various sources : but that to which I refer with most 
 facility and satisfaction is found in the long halls of 
 the Vatican and the Capitol. And if those beautiful 
 statues do not speak enough, read the epitaphs, and say 
 if there were ever such a noble historic gallery, one so 
 replete with instruction : one that could address itself 
 so powerfully to the personal feelings of almost every 
 individual. Their excessive expense is to be highly 
 condemned ; but certainly the Romans can hardly be 
 viewed in a more attractive light, than when thus show- 
 

 
 
 ^' 
 
 
 .1^ ■■■^ 
 
 
 V /' 
 
 
ROME— THE APPIAN WAY. 311 
 
 ing honour to the memory of their ancestors, and re- 
 cording the lives of their fathers for their own imitation. 
 
 The forms of these edifices were originally very 
 various : but the ruins are still more so. A few which 
 are built of brick preserve som? of their sides almost 
 uninjured by time ; some have sunk down into heaps, 
 and left nothing but little hillocks covered with grass, 
 like giants' graves ; but the greater part are masses of 
 rough stone and mortar, often so much worn aw^ay by 
 long exposure to the elements, as to make it impossible 
 to conjecture their original forms, and half covered 
 with clusters of shrubs and ?vy. which render their 
 outlines still more strange and irregular. Walking 
 along this most melancholy avenue for a mile and a 
 half, I came to the tomb formerly supposed to be that 
 of the Servilia family, but left without a name 
 since the undoubted discovery of the real one in 
 1808. It is nearly 60 feet high, and was probably built 
 in the form of a pyramid, though it has been so much 
 worn away at the base, that it stands on a small sup- 
 port like a mushroom, with a roof like a pent-house. 
 Near it is a small round tower, which seems to have 
 served the purposes of some of those little chieftains 
 who divided up this classic soil according to the 
 barbarous usages, and for the savage objects, of the 
 feudal system. 
 
 The tombs have long since been ransacked, and 
 their most valuable contents and ornaments placed in 
 the Vatican and the Capitol. The rest are scattered 
 all over the world, but chiefly among the private cabi- 
 nets of Romans, where statues, busts, relievos, inscrip- 
 tions, lachrymatories and cinerary urns are found in 
 abundance. In those which I entered therefore, I found 
 nothing but a small square room, with the door usually 
 on the side from the street, and a niche for urns on 
 
3X2 HOME.— THE APPIAN WAY. 
 
 each of the others, now blackened with smoke, and 
 showing that they had been used as temporary lodg- 
 ings, probably by the few shepherds who wander with 
 their flocks about the neighbouring country ; though a 
 genius like Mrs. RatclifFe's might easily have peopled 
 them with banditti. I examined some ruins on the left, 
 of which my book took no notice whatever. They are 
 of considerable size, well built of brick, and occupy a 
 large quadrangle, with several subterranean rooms 
 handsomely arched, where were pieces of wood half 
 burnt, and fresh foot-steps on the clay floor. Three 
 square ruins close by, seemed parts of a handsome 
 villa, and the walls, like those of Maecenas's house in 
 the baths of Titus, and many others of ancient brick, 
 looked as fresh and entire as if built within five years, 
 though they have probably stood thus unclaimed and 
 useless for many centuries. 
 
 It was now growing late ; the sun was low, and 1 
 hastened back towards Rome. A shepherd who was 
 watching his flock at a distance, was the only human 
 being I saw ; and as he sat on a stone, dressed in a 
 coat of shaggy skins, and apparently absorbed in 
 thought, he seemed like a barbarous outcast from the 
 world ; and his employment, which was that of knit- 
 ting, was of a nature so trifling as almost to intimate 
 the derangement of his mind. The setting sun was 
 shining very bright, and strongly illuminated the ruins 
 on one side, while the opposite parts w^ere thrown into 
 a deep shade. Their appearance varied every mo*- 
 ment as I passed on ; and their sad, though fantastic 
 forms, seen against the pure sky, and suddenly assum^ 
 ing some unexpected aspect or expression at almost! 
 every step, seemed like a mysterious assembly of 
 gloomy spirits, prepared to consult on subjects of an 
 import not befitting mortal ears. To assert the claim 
 
HOME.— THE APPIAN WAY, 31 3 
 
 of death and devastation over such a region as this, 
 there certainly was little need : for who was there to 
 deny it ? What mortal could have the audacity to raise 
 his voice against the deep and long drawn silence 
 which has settled upon a scene once so filled with 
 promises of Roman immortality, and trodden in suc- 
 cession by millions of feet, directed by motives no 
 longer existing, and tending towards places now often 
 unknown even by name : the soil that has been tramp- 
 led by the war-horse of Scipio, and all the centurions 
 and soldiers of his army, with their proud eagles gazing 
 on yonder sun — the very dust that bore the footsteps 
 of the poet Horace, and his friend Heliodorus, as they 
 commenced their journey to Brundusium. 
 
 Who could long endure the chilling presence of these 
 frowning strangers ? As 1 passed on, I started more than 
 once at a sudden motion in some neighbouring ruin, 
 which seemed to threaten me with an ominous ges- 
 ture : but they were the mere illusions of an imagina- 
 tion bewildered by their strange and various features, 
 and derived for a moment by a burst of light through 
 some unexpected aperture, or by the fall of a fragment 
 from a place it had occupied ever since the days of the 
 Caesars or the consuls. It is with no small degree of 
 satisfaction, that one finds himself rid of such sullen 
 society, and discovers once more the signs of living 
 men ; and as 1 turned to take a distant glance at the ruins 
 of the Appian Way, now more dark and gloomy than 
 ever since the setting of the sun, my eye rested with 
 peculiar pleasure upon the far distant summits of the 
 chain of Appennines, whose snowy ridges were still 
 I shining bright like fire in the broad light of day, and 
 seem to hint of a nobler world, far beyond the sphere 
 of destruction and decay. 
 
 40 
 
314 HOME.— THE APPIAN WAY. 
 
 At the tomb of Cecelia Metella were two English 
 artists or engineers, measuring the ruin ; at the church 
 of the Palms, the old priest invited me to enter, 
 without at first recognising his late visiter ; and not 
 far beyond I was accosted with, " Ah buona sera, sig- 
 nore !" from among a party of children, by a little girl, 
 whose face was indistinctly famihar to me, and 1 could 
 not quite recollect, until she said "I am Teresa!" 
 " Here is my house, sir," she added, "you must step 
 in." But just then a large ox, with a fierce aspect 
 came running up, and the whole party instantly dis- 
 persed with a faint scream, leaving me once more 
 alone. 
 
 A little within the Appian gate, following the direc- 
 tions of my book, I knocked at the lowly entrance of a 
 small vineyard, where I was admitted very readily by 
 a tall old woman, when she understood that I had come 
 to see a cavern near her house. Not so readily how- 
 ever did I submit to her conduct, when after climbing 
 a low ledge of rocks, she paused before a small, dark 
 hole in the earth, and presenting me with a lighted 
 candle, bade me follow her. It was so late that the can- 
 dles cast a respectable shadow in the open air, and I 
 felt little disposition to descend, even into the poetic 
 shades, in such company, which would certainly draw^ 
 Cerberus and all the other dogs at my heels ; however, 
 when I declared 1 had no expectation of finding such a 
 place, she gave me a vinegar look, and we both dis- 
 appeared from human ken. Three or four sudden 
 turnings among narrow passages and little square 
 chambers, roughly hewn in the rock, brought us to an 
 apartment, or rather a cell, perhaps eight or nine feet | 
 square, with large niches, in which were still the re* 
 mains of shelves; and at no great distance another, 
 
ROME. 315 
 
 whence a marble coffin had been removed, richly sculp- 
 tured, and accompanied with a long Latin inscription. 
 Numerous other inscriptions, said my companion, with 
 a yawn that made me think of the witch of Endor, many 
 other inscriptions w^ere found here when this cavern 
 was discovered in 1780; and one of them was still re- 
 maining against the wall behind me. The letters were 
 small, and the stone of a dark colour, which made it 
 difficult to read it, and it required some attention 
 to decipher the name of Scipio, though it still seemed 
 as incredible as ever, that this poor, damp, contracted 
 cavern, could ever have been the honoured tomb of 
 that mighty race, who had exalted so much the power 
 of Rome, by subduing to it half the then known world ; 
 and that in yonder corner had quietly reposed for near 
 two thousand year's, the ashes of Scipio Hispaniensis. 
 Rome, February J 7.— At the palace of the Spada family 
 this morning, we saw a fine gallery of paintings, and 
 afterwards those parts of the building which are orna- 
 mented with various specimens of sculpture. But the 
 most interesting object of all, was a gigantic statue, in a 
 commanding posture, occupying a pedestal at the end 
 of a spacious hall. In the left hand is a small globe, 
 and the right arm is extended, as if enforcing a public 
 address. It was found by a man digging near the cel- 
 lar wall of a house in the Campus Martins; but as one 
 half of the statue was within the premises of his neigh- 
 bour, his attempt to remove it produced a law-suit. On 
 this subject my author is facetious, though not original. 
 He remarks that the judge who occupied the bench 
 at that time, " considering himself another Solomon, 
 ordered that the statue should be divided between the 
 two claimants ; but the cardinal Capo di Ferro, a great 
 friend of the arts, and the founder of this palace, had 
 this barbarous sentence suspended, until he could in- 
 
316 ROME 
 
 form Pope Paul III. of the circumstances, and finally 
 received as a present from that pontiff^ the treasure 
 which he had preserved from destruction." 
 
 There is an expression of dignity in the features, 
 not unmixed with severity, before which the spectator 
 confesses the same awe, as in the presence of a noble 
 countenance agitated by a mind contemplating pro- 
 found and momentous subjects ; and there is also a 
 bold delineation of those traits, which the eye is more 
 ready to attribute to the peculiar expression of an 
 individual, than to the invention of an artist's way- 
 ward fancy. The spot where it was discovered is 
 near the site of the Senate House of Pompey, and it 
 is received by antiquaries as the identical statue of 
 that general, before which Julius Cgesar had been as- 
 sassinated. To think of the noble blood that was shed 
 before this half-human marble and even bathed its 
 white surface ; and to look upon those features sternly 
 frowning, as if not yet recovered from the impres- 
 sion of that scene, recals the elevated ideas we are 
 taught from our infancy to associate with it, together 
 with the terrific omens, the tumult and dismay of the 
 bloody Ides of March. How readily do we here for- 
 get the ambitious, the dangerous part of Caesar's 
 character, and recal only the broken-hearted exclama- 
 tion with which he died : " Et tu, Brute !" [And you too, 
 Brutus !] — an exclamation which to our fancy still rings 
 in the ears of the statue itself. 
 
 Near the Spada palace is the palace of Prince Pius> 
 which is built on the remains of Pompey's Theatre, 
 the earliest erected in Rome ; and the site of his Se- 
 nate House, or Curia, is near at hand. In the great 
 Navona square, in the middle of a beautiful public 
 fountain, is the statue of a Moor in black stone, I 
 think basalt, which in spite of its possessing the full 
 
HOME, 317 
 
 African features, is so much esteemed for its execu- 
 tion, that a prince not long since offered in exchange 
 for it a whole palace, which stands in the neighbour- 
 hood, and was refused. 
 
 We next directed our course to the work shop of 
 Canova, which is accessible at any hour of the day, 
 although the artist is very rarely to be seen there, as 
 he has a more secluded retreat where he can medi- 
 tate, and design, and form his models without fear of 
 interruption. These models, which are of plaster, 
 are copied mechanically in marble by his workmen; 
 and it is not until they have been reduced very 
 nearly to the intended surface, that the master spirit 
 assumes the chisel ; for then alone is an opportu- 
 nity for the display of genius. Canova is considered 
 the greatest sculptor of modern times, and the resto- 
 rer of the pure taste of the ancients ; and has even 
 received from some, the high title of the rival of Phi- 
 dias and Praxiteles. 
 
 After admiring some of his finest statues and relie- 
 vos, particularly the Three Graces, a funeral proces- 
 sion, Endymion sleeping, and Hebe ; we were struck 
 on entering a long room, with the attitude of a female 
 dancer. She has her arms a-kimbo, in the fashion of 
 modern opera-dancers, and is in the act of stepping 
 forward, with but the tip of one foot upon the pedes- 
 tal, and that is apparently just springing up. Instead 
 of the stony aspect which all statues possess, except 
 those of the most superior merit, every thing here was 
 expressive of the most animated and graceful motion : 
 the drapery seemed actually blown back, and to wave 
 in the air, so that we stood looking at it with an un- 
 definable pleasure, and in deep admiration of that 
 power which could furnish so liberally to the eye 
 every other attribute of life, and withhold nothing but 
 
318 ROMfi. 
 
 motion ; and still continue to promise, and still persist 
 in withholding it. 
 
 The statue of Washington, which has been made 
 for the University of North Carolina, is a noble speci* 
 men of sculpture, and we regarded it with a threefold 
 interest : as a work of which Canova himself is proud, 
 as the portrait of the man to whom our country is most 
 indebted, and as an object to be hereafter regarded 
 as one of the most honourable monuments to those 
 individuals, by whose laudable exertions it is to be 
 hoped a pure taste for the fine arts, will sooner or 
 later be introduced and extended in America. 
 
 Thorwaldson is the next sculptor to Canova, and in- 
 deed, in the opinion of many, his equal if not his supe- 
 rior, though the majority appear to be decidedly in 
 in favour of his occupying the second place. At his 
 work shop we found an artist of no inconsiderable 
 eminence, whose brother, one of our former fellow-tra- 
 vellers, had requested us to introduce ourselves. He 
 very politely showed us various works of Thorwaldson, 
 finished and unfinished ; and among others, the frag- 
 ments of a model for a very large relievo, which was 
 much admired by connoisseurs, as that is the branch 
 of his art in which he particularly excels. The de- 
 struction of it was caused by the falling through of 
 the floor, at the time when it was almost completed. 
 
 Afterwards we were conducted into the work shops 
 of several other sculptors, and were not a little grati- 
 fied to see how superior genius had been attracted 
 from various parts of the world, to this centre of the 
 fine arts ; and to observe, not only the beautiful crea- 
 tions of foreign chisels, but the artists themselves, fan- 
 cying the finest forms and postures, and embodying 
 them in long-lived marble. The secluded places where 
 they had retreated, beyond human view and even con- 
 
ROME. 329 
 
 jecture, though too humble for those who love great 
 splendour and space, were evidently the favourite re- 
 sorts of taste ; and there was something in the medi- 
 tative stillness of the walls, and the pale hues of the ar- 
 tificial twilight, which showed at once the mild influence 
 which it is the province of the arts to extend. In one 
 place we saw a Polander, with a black velvet cap ; 
 in another, a Spaniard, with black moustaches, and a 
 severe abstracted countenance; and in a third, was 
 Pietro Tanneranni, a young Italian artist from the 
 neighbourhood of Carrara, of very promising talents 
 and a prepossessing address. He had moulded the mo- 
 del of a group, representing Cupid disdaining Psyche; 
 and in the attitudes of these two children there was 
 much of that ease, grace and nature, which we had 
 too often sought in vain among inferior productions. 
 The artist threw out some general praises of our coun- 
 try, although he had no very distinct ideas concerning 
 it, and we were sorry to put a sudden stop to them, by 
 answering in the negative, when he inquired if his sta- 
 tues would sell in America. 
 
 While he conversed on the principles and practice 
 of his art, we were clearly convinced that the life and 
 warmth in which the coldest marble is sometimes ar- 
 rayed, are communicated by the ardour of genius alone ; 
 and when he enumerated some of the difficulties he 
 had encountered in giving the appropriate expression 
 to his figures in every point of view, he showed an 
 intimate acquaintance with the anatomical structure of 
 the human frame, together with a quick and enthusi- 
 astic relish for what he called the perfection of forms 
 and postures, which not a little surprised us. Expres- 
 sion he most insisted on, and seemed for a time to give 
 it application to the face only : but it was soon appa- 
 rent that he allowed it a much more extensive mean- 
 
320 ROME. 
 
 ing, and spoke in direct terms of the expression of 
 an arm, a head, and even a foot, or a finger ; and a 
 little attention proved that it was justly applied: for 
 so deeply had nature been studied in composing this 
 work, that each statue retained the same character 
 from whatever side it was observed. Cupid was turn- 
 ing away with a slow but determined step, and Psyche 
 was stepping forward in a hurried manner; as if to 
 detain him ; and these different motions were repre- 
 sented by the figures on every side, with as much 
 truth, though not always with the same degree of force. 
 Our friend, in explaining some of the artist's remarks, 
 mentioned that he had his working days, and his days 
 for composing, which were determined by the state of 
 his inventive faculties. One of us remarked, that his 
 talent must resemble that of an improvisatore — Our 
 friend smiled assent : " Say that," said he, " to Tanne- 
 ranni !" 
 
 The Pope has published to-day a bull, on the sub- 
 ject of an amusement practised during the public mas- 
 querades on some of the last days of the carnival. It 
 has been customary on those occasions for gentlemen, 
 and ladies too, to salute each other in passing through 
 the crowd, by throwing handfuls of sugar plumbs into 
 each others' faces : but from economical motives, not 
 at all surprising, httle balls of plaster or chalk have 
 been for some years gradually supplanting the original 
 article, and that too with such an increase of bulk, 
 that the amusement has taken a very unamiable form, 
 
 and, as Mr. , says, the ladies no longer show it 
 
 any countenance. To prevent this abuse, and to restore 
 things to their old state, are the objects of the bull; 
 and the trifling nature of this instrument is no unapt 
 comment on the broad reductions which the pontifical 
 power has suffered, since the days when it conferred 
 
ttOMK. 32 J 
 
 the right of government on kings, and boldlj consigned 
 them to perdition when they thwarted it. The pope, 
 Pius the seventh, seems to have obtained universally 
 the character of a humane, unambitious man : he is 
 however too submissive and indifferent a character 
 even to excite the ordinary curiosity of a Protestant tra- 
 veller : for those who look upon his religious authority 
 as an usurpation, can allow him no pre-eminent merit 
 for the negative amiableness of his disposition ; and, 
 when freed from extraneous considerations, a mere 
 common mind invested with the supreme power of 
 Rome, can never be looked upon without a secret dis- 
 gust, so shaded and diminished, as it must be, by the 
 the ruins of ancient greatness. 
 
 Rome. — February 18. As this is one of the days on 
 which the public cabinets in the Vatican, and the two 
 great palaces on the square of the Capitol, are opened 
 every week, we paid another visit in the morning to 
 one of the latter, namely, the great Museum. I have 
 postponed the few remarks which I intended to make 
 on this noble collection of antiques, until the princi- 
 pal places from which they have been taken should 
 have been described, for fear of throwing more of 
 confusion than interest upon the subject ; and now 
 indeed it will be necessary to confine our view to 
 a few particulars, and not attempt to embrace the 
 whole at once. 
 
 On entering the Capitoline Museum, a large foun-^ 
 tain is seen in a court behind, ornamented with an 
 ancient colossal statue representing, it is supposed, 
 the river Rhine ; and on both sides of the lower part 
 of the passage, as well as in the adjacent apartments, 
 among crowds of antiques from all quarters, are nu- 
 merous Egyptian statues of different forms and preten- 
 sions: high-shouldered gods, goddesses and mortals, 
 
 41 
 
322 RoivrE. 
 
 made of granite and porphyry, and principally brought 
 from the ruins of Adrian's villa near Tivoli. The 
 number and size of these objects, together with the 
 extreme hardness of the materials, served but to add 
 anew to the astonishment with which we had before 
 regarded the luxury and extravagance of that empe- 
 ror. The wails of the great staircase are lined with 
 the fragments of a marble floor, formerly belonging to 
 the temple of Remus, in the Forum, of which mention 
 has already been made. It still bears the marks of a 
 map of the city, engraved on it about the time of 
 Caracalla, of which however very little is now intel- 
 ligible. 
 
 Here we entered the great hall of the second floor, 
 which, like that of the Vatican, presents a long vista 
 between two lines of statues, marble coffins, relievos 
 and urns, closely arranged for want of room. In the 
 first upper chamber we entered, several coffins, or 
 sarcophagi, covered all over with deep sculpture, 
 attracted our attention on account of their mythologi- 
 cal meaning; but the most interesting objects were 
 the marble slabs plastered into the walls, which, to 
 the number of about an hundred, had been brought 
 from the sepulchres on the Appian Way. Some of 
 them were indicated by our book as those found in 
 the truly picturesque tomb of Julia's freed men, which 
 have been carefully deciphered and described by a 
 learned antiquary. The others were picked up for- 
 tuitously along the road, and many of them which are 
 preserved entire, have no other interest than as the 
 memorials of unknown and humble individuals who 
 lived and died so many centuries ago. Yet in the 
 present case, this very uncertainty was itself enough, 
 it produced so deep a contrast with the language of 
 the epitaphs, which still preserved all its original 
 
ROME. 
 
 323 
 
 force ; and it was affecting to find them retaining strong 
 expressions of grief and touching lamentations, just as 
 they were wrung from the mourners in all the poig- 
 nancy of newly inflicted sufferings, so long after the 
 voice of sorrow had been hushed for ever, and the 
 mourners themselves had been in their turn laid at 
 rest, lamented and forgotten. Wherever the eye 
 turned it glanced on such broken expressions as 
 these : " D. M." (or Diis Manibus,) ..." Optimi filii," 
 ..." Carissimse conjugis," ..." Juliae sorroris amatae, 
 hoc saxum, cum multis lachrymis, posu" — [" In memo- 
 ry of the best of sons," — " To my dear wife ;"] and 
 a little beyond, on a small, unpretending slab of mar- 
 ble, were the names of four brothers, two of which I 
 think were Caius and Publius, succeeded by : " In 
 memory of Julia, our dear sister, we have placed this 
 stone, with many tears." 
 
 It is by memorials like these that we learn to take a 
 more affectionate interest in the history, the fate of 
 Rome, than we ever acquire by distant and general 
 reflections on her greatness and glory. And of what 
 value is that greatness or glory, what the worth of that 
 fame which glittered on the helmets of her armies and 
 swelled the pride of her emperors, when compared 
 with what were too often their only effects on the 
 humble but suffering victims of injustice and war? 
 Here we learn to despise what our old Roman instruc- 
 tors taught us to admire : the splendour of an empty 
 name ; and begin to sympathise from our souls, not with 
 the descent of an empire to the dust, but with the real 
 distresses of the helpless, unoffending individuals who 
 were involved in its ruin — with friends, children, 
 mothers, husbands, and wives ; their sorrow, their 
 tears, and their broken hearts. How dismal does 
 death appear when we adopt for a moment the 
 
^^4 HOME. 
 
 religious and moral sjstem of the ancients : when we 
 look among all these epitaphs for a single hope of 
 such a future world as that towards which our wishes 
 are directed from infancy ! There is a purity, an ele- 
 vation in the varied affections of common life, which 
 must have made even the most humble of these 
 Romans to revolt at the idea of consigning his dearest 
 friend to the society of their " Immortal gods." The 
 virtuous, the decent would blush at their characters 
 even on earth, how then could they even look on the 
 sky with complacency : and how could they find any 
 alleviation to the keenest pangs of the heart, with 
 which these sculptured stones declare, they too were 
 well acquainted ? How could they, with their worth- 
 less prospects, endure to see their dearest inte- 
 rests trampled in the dust by fate, and their best, their 
 fondest wishes carelessly thrown to the winds like 
 things of no value, when even with our hopes such 
 sufferings sometimes seem intolerable ? 
 
 One whole apartment, which we soon after entered, 
 is devoted to the busts of emperors, which have been 
 collected in abundance, although in some cases there 
 is a great scarcity of such memorials, on account of 
 the popular indignation which often showed itself at 
 the death of those monsters, by destroying every thing 
 that was calculated to recal their injustice and cru- 
 elty. A bust of Probus was for a long time wanting^ 
 and that which has lately been discovered and made 
 to complete the line of emperors, is supposed to be the 
 only one in existence, and is of course invaluable in 
 the eyes of the antiquaries. The next room is filled 
 with the busts of philosophers ; and that of Virgil 
 occupies the first place in the third, which is the 
 chamber of the poets. The remaining apartments 
 need scarcely be mentioned, or the numerous objects 
 
A C(DmmiID(D)M. ©]F TIKIS C(D)IL(D)SS.IST[JIMI 
 
KOME. 325 
 
 • 
 
 they contain, including the statues of Antinous, the 
 Dying Gladiator, &;c. and the finest antique Mosaic, 
 representing three doves drinking from a goblet, from 
 Adrian's Villa, and supposed by many to be the iden- 
 tical one mentioned by Pliny and brought from Hali- 
 carnassus. 
 
 On returning to the city, I heard that the Pope had 
 published another proclamation, in which he stated, 
 apparently with considerable alarm, that there were re- 
 ports of three simultaneous insurrections in different 
 parts of his dominions; but declared that he placed 
 entire confidence in the love and fidelity of his sub- 
 jects. It is whispered however, that this report is coun- 
 tenanced only to obtain an excuse for placing the for- 
 tresses of the country into the hands of the Austrians, 
 who are still on their march. 
 
 Rome, February 19. — At Titus's Arch we found seve- 
 ral labourers at work, in the employment of a French- 
 man, who has obtained leave of the government to 
 search about the foundations of that structure, for w hat 
 purpose I know not. They had uncovered several large 
 blocks of stone on which it rests, as well as a pave- 
 ment, about five feet below that of the Sacred Way, 
 made of the same materials and in the same manner. 
 One of the men offered me a copper coin of Trajan, 
 exactly like that I had obtained at Tivoli, which he 
 declared he had found on that spot ; but his price 
 was too exorbitant. 
 
 A little shower coming suddenly up, I stepped into 
 the corridors of the Colosseum, where I observed par- 
 ticularly some of the old brick water-channels under 
 the floors, still in perfect order. I found here a num- 
 ber of galley-slaves at work, bringing brick and mortar 
 for repairs, which are continually carried on among 
 the ruins by the Pope. It is well known that the 
 
i]26 liOME. 
 
 • 
 
 stone walls and columns of this immense structure were 
 laid without mortar, being fastened only by cramps 
 of bronze, and that the barbarians, at the destruction 
 of Rome, defaced them in all parts in getting out the 
 metal. 1 had supposed that they had removed them 
 all, and that the weight and proportions of the Colos- 
 seum were what preserved it from falling to the 
 ground ; but I found that the stones were still well 
 fastened, for where some workmen were removing an 
 imperfect block, they were obliged first to cut off a 
 strong metallic bolt, by which it was secured inter- 
 nally. 
 
 Returning to the Capitoline Hill, I mounted to 
 the church of St. Maria Aracoeli, which stands 
 on the northern summit, considerably higher than 
 the Capitol Square, and occupies the site of the 
 Temple of Jupiter-with-the-quiver, where those who 
 triumphed used to ascend on foot, and deposit Ihe 
 spoils of their enemies. From the side towards the 
 Campus Martins it is attained by a long staircase of 
 an hundred and twenty-four steps, made of blocks of 
 white marble, obtained like almost every thing else 
 we see, from ancient Rome. The church is very large 
 andsplendidly decorated, though the columns have lit- 
 tle in common except that they support the same roof; 
 for they were collected from unknown ruins in the 
 immediate vicinity, and arranged with little expense 
 and great contempt of method : the tall ones some- 
 times wanting a base, and the defects of the short 
 ones being ill concealed by a mean capital of gilt 
 wood. 
 
 While casting a hasty glance at some paper legs and 
 arms and hearts, pictures and crutches, which covered 
 the walls of a chapel of St. Antonio, a young friar 
 came up to me of his own accord, and rather officious- 
 
ROME. 327 
 
 ly began a description of those singular objects. I 
 tried to look serious, and to answer discreetly a few 
 questions he put to me on the subject of modern mira- 
 cles, in a low tone of voice and with an equivocal 
 expression of countenance : but somehow or other my 
 mind seemed to have lost every faculty except that of 
 ridiculous contrast : for his plain brown dress, the 
 knotted cord round his waist, and the seriousness of 
 the subject arrayed themselves against the young, full- 
 fed, thoughtless face, the free-thinking blue eye, and 
 the scoffing soul that looked through it. Besides, there 
 was something really ludicrous in the rude little 
 pictures to which he directed my attention : an old 
 man lowered down in a sheet, from the window of 
 a house all on fire ; a man run over by a black horse ; 
 another with a comic expression of face, just bidden to 
 stand by three robbers ; and a family of five tumbling 
 out of a cart. The friar perceived the workings of 
 my mind, in spite of myself ; for hastily saying some- 
 thing which might be considered half of an apology, 
 he disappeared, leaving me to think of the Clerk of 
 Copmanhurst, and to reflect how much more his 
 appearance spoke of wine and venison, than of " holy 
 water and dried peas." 
 
 My friends, who had pursued a different route, took 
 shelter from the shower in the gateway of a palace, 
 where they formed an acquaintance with a French 
 traveller, arrived yesterday from Naples, who told 
 them that the Neapolitans appear to be almost mad ; 
 for although the Austrians are approaching, and they 
 have taken no effectual measures for opposing their en^ 
 trance into the kingdom, the city is full of gaiety, and 
 the masquerades, which have already begun, are car^ 
 ried on with as much spirit as if it were a season of 
 perfect quiet. 
 
328 ROME. 
 
 Rome, February 20. — The Viminal Hill occupies the^ 
 north-eastern corner of the city, and that we made the 
 principal scene of our antiquarian researches for the 
 day. It is principally devoted to vineyards and villas, 
 of the last of which there are several of no small ex- 
 tent and richness, both within and without the walls. 
 On the left we passed the Gardens of Sallust, and 
 numerous old arches which are the remains of his 
 theatre. 
 
 The ancient Praetorian Camp is at the extremity of 
 the city in that direction ; and nearer are the fields in 
 which the offending Vestals were buried alive. The 
 most interesting remnant of antiquity in this part of 
 the city, however, and one of the very largest in all 
 Rome, is the ruins of Diocletian's Baths. These are 
 situated on the western brow of the Viminal, which 
 here appeared superior in height to all the other hills, 
 and afforded a commanding view in that direction. A 
 broad and fine terrace extends from the steep verge of 
 the hill back to a long range of imposing walls and 
 arches, which at first view appear like the original 
 front of the baths ; but all this space is said to have 
 been enclosed by the enormous edifice, and indeed 
 the two churches we saw near the spot which is sup- 
 posed to have been its western boundary, were evi-» 
 dently formed in some of its ancient walls. 
 
 On approaching the mighty brick arches which had 
 first caught our eyes, we perceived that they also had 
 to some extent been devoted to uses very far from 
 their original object: for they not only furnish grana^ 
 ries, but a long row of small dwellings, a monastery, 
 and a fine church. The church was locked, and 
 we had to knock a long time for a conductor at a 
 wooden gate, which with some difficulty succeeded in 
 closing the passage of a fine arch, The keys were 
 
ROME. 
 
 329 
 
 in the pockets of brother somebody, and he was 
 asleep. Indeed he delayed so long that it seemed as 
 if he never intended to rise : but he came at last, and 
 ushered us into a magnificent vaulted hall of the baths, 
 still entire in spite of its age, and retaining much of 
 its original appearance above, in spite of the nume- 
 rous architectural and religious decorations it has re- 
 ceived in modern times — the first from the designs of 
 Michael Angelo, the others from the hands of wealthy 
 individuals. Eight fine Egyptian granite columns, 
 placed there to support the roof in ancient times, still 
 retain their situations, although their bases and part 
 of their shafts have been concealed by the elevation 
 of the floor several ket^ which was rendered necessa- 
 ry by the water which covered it ; and the hall has been 
 extended on the four sides, so that it is now 336 feet 
 long and 308 wide. Here were several chapels richly 
 ornamented ; but the sullen gloom and silence which 
 reigned around gave the whole a melancholy aspect. 
 The polished marble pavement so richly spread before 
 the great altar, the precious parti-coloured stones of 
 which it was built, and the splendid display of reli- 
 gious emblems and vessels with which it was covered, 
 seemed to have been collected here only to show the 
 worthlessness rather than the value of such unappro- 
 priated wealth; the pictures, which are the originals 
 brought from St. Peter's, seemed to hang as if con- 
 signed to neglect and decay; and the pale marble 
 statues fixed their sightless eyes upon each other, as if 
 to inquire the cause of our unexpected intrusion. In- 
 deed the motionless form of an image seemed but an 
 epitome of the whole impression of this scene : for 
 while all the neighbouring population could never 
 require half the room in the smallest of the five 
 churches built in these ruins, there were perhaps 
 
 42 
 
330 
 
 liOME. 
 
 riches enough in this alone, to feed all the hungry, 
 and clothe all the beggars in Rome. 
 
 The priest opened a door, and ushered us into the 
 adjoining convent — all except Mrs. , for it is con- 
 trary to the rules to admit any but men ; and here was a 
 beautiful square court, surrounded by cells for no less 
 than two hundred monks, although, since the times of 
 of the French, the actual number has been reduced to 
 five. In front of the cells ran a beautiful white colon- 
 nade all round the square ; and the ground was devo- 
 ted to a garden, kept in good order, and filled with 
 plants and shady trees, among which were several tali 
 cypresses, with spreading tops like a dark canopy. 
 In short, such was the attractive retirement and beauty 
 of the spot, that the first thought it inspired was some- 
 thing about a choice library, and the first expression, 
 a warm eulogy on a monastic life. When we reflected 
 on the numerous ills which awaited our return to the 
 world, it was natural to linger; but when we saw the 
 obsequiousness of our guide, and the small reward at 
 which it was aimed, we were perfectly willing to depart. 
 
 Being confined at home this evening by the cold and 
 blustering weather, which threatens a long storm, I 
 have been forced to confine my study of Rome to what 
 I can find within doors. Fortunately I have been fa- 
 voured by circumstances; for one or two neighbours 
 having dropped in to visit our friendly old host and 
 hostess, they seized the opportunity to return the invi- 
 tation we gave them the other evening. The apart- 
 ment in which this small party met, is indeed on the 
 jgecond story, but it is still the kitchen; and with a 
 corresponding air of plainness and hospitality, a large 
 wooden table in the middle of the floor was furnished 
 with some sweetmeats, crostata, (or a sort of pie,) 
 small hard cakes, and wine ; while some brands in the 
 
ROME. 331 
 
 Wide fire-place were making a lively blaze, well pro- 
 portioned to the blustering night without. At our en- 
 trance, there was a look of welcome from the faces of 
 our friends ; and it will never be forgotten of the old 
 lady, that she brought up so strongly to recollection 
 the matronly features of a chosen friend of my boy- 
 hood, whose gentle precepts and amiable smile may 
 perhaps have drawn me away too often from those 
 brilliant subjects which others so much esteem, to 
 those more things humble she would unquestionably 
 have approved. Assured by such sparkles in the eyes 
 we had learned to appreciate in a distant country, we 
 cheerfully took our seats at the left hand of our host 
 for that was evidently expected of us ; and looked 
 around us with that peculiar thrill we feel when the 
 blood starts off in the highest style, and we feel supe- 
 rior to kings and nobles, and on better ground than 
 that on which they ever hold dominion over us — I mean 
 over others. 
 
 I had never dreamed of finding in Rome any of that 
 republican equality which we practise so much in our 
 New England villages : but one of the servants, a wo- 
 man from a town in the mountains, who at first sat spin- 
 ning by the fire, afterwards took a seat near the table, 
 and joined with familiarity and without rebuke, in the 
 conversation and mirth of the party. Indeed it is 
 clear, that among the middhng class of society here, 
 servants are sometimes allowed to claim the privileges 
 of members of the family, and the affectionate regard 
 of children. The one in question appeared like a 
 personage of no small consequence from her dress : 
 indeed if a stranger were to judge from that alone, he 
 would have pronounced her a princess at least. She 
 wore a bright figured gown, and a scarlet boddice or 
 stomacher, with narrow ribbons flying from the arms 
 
332 KOME. 
 
 and shoulders. She spun, according to the universal 
 custom in this country, (excepting only one little wheel 
 I noticed in the Jews' quarter,) with a distaff made of 
 a split reed, fastened to her side, and a heavy spindle 
 which she twirled with her right hand. Now all this 
 detail might have been withheld, but for an accidental 
 remark that she was a " forastiera," or foreigner, dif- 
 fering from the Romans no less in dialect than in cos- 
 tume, and being a native of the small town of 
 
 dei Sabini. The first part of the name I have forgot- 
 ten ; but what 1 have written means of the Sabines ; and 
 we were told distinctly that she was a Sabinese, or 
 Sabine. Romulus, it seems then, was not able to form 
 so complete an amalgamation between the different 
 tribes of which his kingdom was composed, as he in- 
 tended, and probably supposed ; for the Sabine name 
 is still distinguished from the Roman, although the 
 ancient unity and friendliness still subsist between the 
 females, which was first contracted when the Sabine 
 women rushed between the two armies, and prevented 
 the shedding of blood between their fathers and hus- 
 bands. 
 
 The conversation having turned upon the various 
 dialects of the neighbourhood, we were told that al- 
 most every village had something peculiar, either in 
 words, phrases, or pronunciation ; and heard some 
 satirical strictures on the language of the Trasteverini, 
 or people on the other side of the Tiber; who, how- 
 ever singular it may appear to one of our enterprising 
 and locomotive nation, preserve many striking pecu- 
 liarities from age to age, in spite of all the changes of 
 the world, and the narrowness of the Tiber, which 
 alone separates them from the proud inhabitants of 
 Rome proper. The Neapolitans came in for their full 
 share of reproach and ridicule. They were denounced 
 
ROME. 333 
 
 as "great thieves," cowards, and braggarts, without 
 serious intentions of doing any thing for themselves ; 
 their licentious conduct, when in Rome under the 
 French, was recalled with indignation; and their lan- 
 guage was ridiculed by one or two who had some know- 
 ledge of their drawling tones. 
 
 Rome, February 21. — ft snowed a little an evening 
 or two since, but the tlakes melted on touching the 
 ground. Snow is not uncommon, yet it seldom lies 
 more than two or three days; though about fourteen 
 years ago it fell to the depth of a foot and a half 
 
 A report was spread this morning, that the vanguard 
 of the Austrians were just outside of the walls ; but 
 on our way towards the Gate of the People, we learnt 
 that the story was without foundation ; so turning aside 
 we stopped at the modelling room of Canova. At the 
 door we met an old man, who was just coming out, in 
 a very plain dress rather soiled, and an old hat bent 
 in on one side ; and were not a little surprised when, on 
 turning his face towards us, he showed strongly marked 
 features with a thoughtful eye, and our friend introdu- 
 ced us to the Marquis Canova — that Apelles of modern 
 times. There was something in his face and voice, as 
 well as in his figure, motions, and manners, which pro- 
 duced an impression entirely different from those of a 
 stranger; yet it required much reflection before 1 could 
 trace out the resemblance to any satisfactorily original, 
 and it was not until a confusion of ideas had passed 
 through my mind, connecting sculpture, painting, and 
 poetry, in new and agreeable forms, that I at last re- 
 called our countryman, the author of " M'Fingal." 
 I We saw a fine model of a horse, of such a size that 
 we could walk under it without stooping. It is for 
 an equestrian statue of the king of Naples. Canova 
 spoke of his statue of Washington in such a manner 
 
334 ROME. 
 
 as to prove that he was proud of it, and I thought his 
 eyes sparkled at the recollection of a new world be- 
 yond the Atlantic, now coveting his works and offering 
 him its fame. 
 
 Ill-contented to consider the little spring of water 
 we tasted so formally the other day, as the fountain of 
 Egeria, I set off after noon once more to seek it ; and 
 left the Appian Way some distance outside of the 
 gate, by turning to the right. My path soon took 
 to winding through pastures and clustered trees, so 
 that for a time not an object in sight bore any parti- 
 cular reference to ancient or modern Rome, but awa- 
 kened recollections connected with many distant rural 
 scenes of the same homely, yet agreeable character. 
 On a gentle eminence appeared at length the little 
 temple of the god Ridicule, in the midst of a sheep 
 pasture. It is of brick, and nearly entire externally, 
 although the interior is ruinous. The place was quite 
 lonely ; for a house adjoining, with its little battlement- 
 ed walls, was as deserted as the temple, and I wan- 
 dered about them both without perceiving any signs of 
 inhabitants. 
 
 Toward the south is the entrance to the valley of 
 Egeria ; not a shady dell, rough with rocks and dark 
 with trees, as one would naturally hope to find it, but 
 a broad, sunny tract of ground, between two long, 
 naked hills, nearly half a mile apart. The Grotto of 
 the Nymph is at the base of that on the right hand, 
 in a spot not indicated even by a path, and to which 
 I was guided principally by a little rill from that foun- 
 tain, which was regarded with reverence by the Ro- 
 mans, even as early as when it was the favourite re- 
 treat of Numa Pompilius. Uniting with many other 
 little streams that trickle from the hills, the Egerian 
 fountain helps to form a considerable brook, which 
 
ROME. 335 
 
 runs with a precipitate course down the valley, and 
 more than once impeded my way. A few masses of 
 ruin were scattered here and there, as notices of the 
 ancient inhabitants of the place; and notwithstanding 
 its present desolate condition, it may have worn a very 
 agreeable appearance when covered with groves, and 
 somewhat improved by art. The grotto in its pre- 
 sent state has many of the qualities of a beautiful 
 ruin : the front of the arched roof having fallen in, 
 an imperfect restoration was attempted by the bushes 
 and vines, which hung over and half concealed it ; 
 one of the empty niches in the walls was furnished 
 with a pedestal of fresh grass, fertihzed by the drip- 
 ping fountain ; while at the farthest end of the grotto, 
 a mutilated recumbent statue of the nymph seemed 
 contemplating the past, among the broken shadows in 
 the water, which overspread the floor. 
 
 It was nearly sunset, and there was no time for exa- 
 mining the caverns among the broken ledges of rock, ap- 
 pearing here in several places on the opposite hill-side. 
 Those secret and gloomy retreats were frequently re- 
 sorted to by the Christians, as places for sepulture as 
 well as for concealment and prayer ; and the some- 
 what romantic ideas with which 1 had regarded this 
 imagined seat of the Muses, were quite awed and 
 dispersed, while the superstitions once connected 
 with this little cavern, ranged themselves in contrast 
 with the pure and simple worship of the true God. 
 
 The Austrians are expected here to-morrow, but 
 only the staff-officers are to be admitted within the 
 walls. An army of twenty or thirty thousand men 
 encamped will be a fine sight — provided we can forget 
 that they are the descendants of barbarians and that we 
 are in Rome. It is reported that the Neapolitans have 
 entered the Pope's territory in three places, and that 
 
336 ^c>ME. 
 
 many of the Austrians, being Carbonari, have refused 
 to fight them; but rumours are so contradictory that 
 we can hardly say we beheve any thing about it. 
 
 Rome, February/ 23. — Direcfing our course towards 
 the soutlierii p:.rt of the city this morning, we left the 
 Tiber and ascended a rough path, to that angle of the 
 Aventine Hill which looks down the stream. Here 
 stands the church of St. Mary of the Priory, so named 
 after an institution of that description belonging to 
 the Knights of Malta, which formerly occupied the 
 ground ; and a little terrace before it, defended from 
 the precipice by a low wall, affords a commanding 
 view over the vineyards which extend with little in- 
 terruption to the southern wall of the city, the sub- 
 burbs, and the Campagna. The spot receives some 
 farther interest from a tradition, that it was the site 
 of the Temple of Bona Dea, and previously the 
 place to which Remus used to resort to consult the 
 auguries, by watching the flight of birds. Descending 
 the Aventine towards the south-east, we found the soil 
 intimately mingled with the ruins of ancient buildings,; 
 and in some places along the path, old walls of consi^ 
 derable thickness peeped above the surface. 
 
 Monte Testaccio, which we had seen from this hill 
 near the city wall and about a mile distant, is a speci- 
 men of geology that might claim kindred with those 
 ancient mounds which travellers have encountered on 
 the plains of Shinar. It is a hill of considerable size, 
 entirely formed of broken earthen ware. This is 
 almost incredible, but it is even still more true. The 
 ground for nearly half a mile before we arrived at its I 
 base, was all strewn with such fragments ; and although i 
 we had almost resolved to persevere in our scepticism, 
 we were soon forced to confess, that the hill was un- 
 doubtedly formed of the old jars and bottles broken 
 
HOME. 337 
 
 by the ancient Romans — or shall I say it? by their care- 
 less servants. This curious eminence, by our estima- 
 tion, is about a mile in circuit at the base, and at least 
 one hundred and Mtj feet high. As we began the 
 ascent, we perceived several little precipices here 
 and there, breaking the coat of short turf with which 
 most of the surface was covered. They might have 
 been taken at a little distance for ledges of natural 
 rock ; but all proved to be piles of broken crockery, 
 loose, unmixed with any other substance, and as hard 
 as ever. By removing the turf in other places with 
 a stick, the soil proved to be exceedingly thin ; and 
 all below, a mass of rubbish. On the top, where a 
 wooden cross is erected, is a small plain a quarter of 
 a mile in circumference, which is divested of all vege- 
 tation, except the thin grass and a single little bush ; 
 and a portion of it, measuring about fifty yards across, 
 was entirely divested even of that slight covering. 
 Here was nothing but the fragments of earthen ves- 
 sels, great and small, thick and thin, with various de- 
 grees of convexity, and some with the remains pf bro- 
 ken ears and handles. The durability of this sort of 
 ware is abundantly proved by the small effect the 
 weather has produced, even on these pieces which are 
 so much exposed to it. Those which appeared to have 
 suffered most were on the surface, and were only 
 roughened and discoloured to a certain depth, but 
 grown if any thing harder than ever, and lay under 
 our feet, with scarcely a particle of dust to be seen, 
 and rattli^ at every step like a craTe of crockery. 
 
 The highest summit is so elevated that it commands 
 an extensive view; yet there is no tradition of the 
 cause, or the period of the creation of this hill. Large 
 excavations have been made in it for the wine vaults 
 of the city : and the buildings connected with them are 
 
 43 
 
338 ROME. 
 
 half built of the broken ware thrown out in digging. 
 At the distance of a quarter of a mile, and near the 
 city wall and the tomb of Caius Cestius, we examined 
 a deep trench just dug, which has struck upon an 
 ancient drain; and here the soil was scattered with 
 broken jars, stones, bricks and marbles, even to the 
 depth of twentj-five feet. 
 
 The little burjing-ground for the Protestants, i& 
 close by this spot ; and after passing the low, briery 
 hedge which surrounds it, we were affected at the sight 
 of a beautiful marble monument to an American lady : 
 " Eliza Georgiana Watson, wife of Grenville Temple^ 
 haronet, a native of Massachusetts, in the United States 
 of America." 
 
 As we returned through the Corso, workmen were 
 employed in putting up long stages, to support seata- 
 for spectators at the approaching masquerades ; and 
 the shop-doors were crowded with a display of party- 
 coloured dresses to sell or to let, with a grim show of 
 masks of all descriptions. 
 
 Rome, February 24. — The Corso was swept ihm 
 morning by galley slaves, and overspread with red 
 earth brought on the backs of donkies. Chairs were 
 ranged in long rows on both sides, and at two o'clock 
 a few persons with masks began to skip about among 
 the gathering crowds. At four, coaches were driving 
 byvon a slow walk, in twa lines, one going down the 
 street and the other up; some of them filled witbj 
 masks, and others with persons in their richest dresses ; 
 and it soon became dangerous, as well as difficult to^ jj 
 walk among them. That most ridiculous of amuse- 
 ments, throwing of sugar plumbs, now commenced, f 
 Many of the persons on foot and at the windows had 
 provided themselves with that kind of artillery ; and 
 whenever they perceived any of their acrjuaintancet- 
 
ROME. 339 
 
 within a moderate distance, discharged them by hand- 
 fuls point blank into their faces. Sometimes they were 
 thrown with such precision and effect, as to dispel 
 a fixed and intolerable simper from the face of a 
 conscious beauty ; and sometimes rattled like hail, 
 against a row of masks of various comical expres- 
 sions, and bounded upon the pavement. There they 
 were eagerly sought by herds of noisy little boys, 
 whose avidity to hoard them clearly showed, not only 
 that they too had been made acquainted with the 
 Pope's proclamation, but that they found it strictly 
 obeyed. 
 
 The whole scene, however, was the gayest and 
 most splendid we had ever witnessed. The street is 
 straight, about a mile and a half long, and regular- 
 ly built with many spacious palaces on both sides^ 
 from the windows of which, the housekeepers and 
 servants had ostentatiously displayed their whole 
 stock of scarlet and crimson silk counterpanes to 
 wave in the wind. To this garnishing of the dark 
 walls were added the brilliant dresses of a thou- 
 sand gay, smiling groups of ladies, who crowded the 
 windows and balconies; while an endless variety of 
 faces passing more nearly before the eyes, half dis- 
 tracted the mind. Maskers dressed for harlequins, 
 Punches, and many incomprehensible and indescriba- 
 ble fantastics, were hurrying and dancing by, speak* 
 ing in disguised voices, and playing the most ludicrous 
 tricks ; and when the crowd thickened, and the long 
 rows of seats became filled by thlf motley multitude, 
 a glance to the right or left was like looking in a mul- 
 tiplying mirror, for there was nothing to be seen but 
 whole legions of faces, wearing the broadest signs 
 of mirth. 
 
 At length the hour arrived for an exhibition we had 
 heard spoken of with respect by some of the natives ; 
 
340 mUE. 
 
 and as a preparatory act, the Corso waj^ cleared of 
 coaches at the signal of firing a gun, after which a 
 party of dragoons galloped down, to keep the pedes- 
 trians in bodily fear of encroaching upon the line. 
 Four horses were led out soon after into the Square 
 of the People, which however was nearly a mile dis- 
 tant from us, and prepared for a race. It is not the 
 fashion to give them riders on such occasions, and the 
 poor creatures were in consequence very humanely 
 furnished out with little gilt balls, stuck full of pins and 
 fastened to their backs by strings, to supply the place 
 of spurs, without which it is to be doubted whether 
 either of them would have had spirit enough to reach 
 the goal. When at length they were started off, they 
 hobbled on so sorrowfully and at such melancholy dis- 
 tances, that it was pitiable to see them ; yet tumultuous 
 shouts accompanied them from the crowds of people, 
 masked and unmasked, who lined the street on each 
 side with a wall of human heads. 
 
 This was an appropriate conrhision to an exhibition 
 of the most unmeaning and frivolous nature ; and i^ 
 hardly seems credible, on recalhng the scenes of the 
 day, that any but children could have endured them 
 at all. It would certainly seem ridiculous to us in 
 America, to find a whole city assembled to mask and 
 throw sugar-plumbs : playing marbles would be manly 
 compared with it. Yet it must be confessed that this 
 part of the show is as rational as those savage sports 
 which are indulged in England, and in some parts of 
 our own country, al^d certainly far more humane. 
 
 We were yesterday deb berating whether to prolong 
 our stay at Rome or to set off immediately for Flo- 
 rence, having received very glowing accounts of the 
 splendours of the carnival from our hostess, who would 
 hardly have felt more pride in the city of Romulus, if 
 she had lived in the Augustan age. She has never I 
 
ftOME. 341 
 
 believe been farther from home than the neighbouring 
 mountains, yet she boldly pronounces that there is 
 hardly another city in the world worthy of the name ; 
 and here she is joined by her whole family, and 1 
 know not how many neighbours. Florence, they 
 assure us, is not worth seeing, even during the carni- 
 val, for they have no St. Peter's and no Pope: indeed 
 Florence can never be any thing, as it never was great 
 in ancient times, and has no ruins to boast of In the 
 last idea we fully concur ; but after what we have this 
 day witnessed, we shrink from the thought of remain- 
 ing to see a repetition of those scenes which have al- 
 ready quite disgusted us. We reverence the greatness 
 of the ancients, if we do not love them ; but we are 
 already convinced that the Corso is not the place to 
 acquire esteem or respect for the moderns ; and 
 under the influence of these reasons it is, that we have 
 taken places in a vettura, which sets off for Florence 
 day after to-morrow, leaving the degenerate '^ Senate 
 and People of Rome," to play the fool by them- 
 selves. 
 
 Rome, February 25. — The modern Capitol is on the 
 whole so mean a building, with its cheap wood-work 
 and little columns covered with painted canvass, the 
 decorations of its principal hall, that it disgraces the 
 foundation on which it stands. A girl showed us the 
 way up a winding staircase to the top, which over- 
 looks a great part of the city, and affords a better 
 general view than any other point, over the regions in 
 its vicinity. The Forum lay just below, with the Co- 
 losseum beyond ; on the right was the Palatine Hill, 
 with the Tiber running behind it ; and on the left, 
 over a cluster of houses, the crooked Esquiline Hill. 
 
 The Palatine recals the foundation of the city, to- 
 gether with many institutions and events rendered 
 
342 ^^^^^^• 
 
 important by their long duration and extensive effects^ 
 particularly the ancient code of the Twelve Tables, in 
 which it seems is to consist the permanency of her 
 empire. The ruins of Jupiter's Temple below us, 
 speak of Augustus and his timid superstition ; the 
 Arch of Titus and the Colosseum refer to the fall of 
 Jerusalem, the introduction of Christianity into Rome^ 
 and the undaunted spirit with which the martyrs met 
 death, the only enemy that had terrors for Caesar. It 
 speaks also of the dissetnination of Christianity 
 through the world, and the mighty effects it has 
 produced. To what event but that can we attri- 
 bute the present happy state of our country ? To 
 what but the influence of its principles can we trace 
 those institutions for educating and governing all 
 men alike ; and the erection of new states in a world 
 then unknown, on principles which convey the sub- 
 stance of those privileges of which the institutions of 
 Rome were only the pretences ; and never, while they 
 are preserved unimpaired, can conduct to that national 
 degradation and ruin towards which her military am- 
 bition was continually hurrying her : that gulf into 
 which she was precipitated. Equally far are th^ 
 genuine principles of Christianity from the abject level 
 of the .modern inhabitants of this venerable scene. 
 It is the neglect of its precepts, the absence of its 
 spirit, which places the southern nations of Europe so 
 far behind the northern ; and it is that which has pro- 
 duced national differences still more glaring on the 
 other side of the Atlantic. 
 
 And does it ever appear difficult to trace these 
 effects to their proper fountain-heads ? Look at yon- 
 der beggar, hovering about the Arch of Titus, cau- 
 tiously stepping among the polished fragments of those 
 majestic columns which his ancestors brought away, 
 
HOME. 
 
 343 
 
 from conquered Egypt ; half hiding his person too 
 lest the approaching stranger should avoid his rags 
 and his petitions : what is necessary to make him 
 what we should wish to see ? It is not his poverty : 
 for that may prove the best foil to a noble mind. Ex- 
 amine his history, which is read in the institutions of 
 his government and his religion. In the former he is 
 not permitted to have any active concern : blind sub- 
 mission and obedience are to compose his character 
 on this subject. But with regard to religion he is far 
 more rigorously treated ; not only his conduct but his 
 mind is controuled. He is not allowed to exercise his 
 own judgment, nor to question for a moment the dog- 
 mas of his instructors, or the authority of those who 
 prescribe his duties and fix the value of his sins. He 
 is taught, by the example and precept of all around 
 him, to believe that the book of God is safe only in 
 the hands of the priesthood ; and that they alone 
 are capable of expounding it : men who are often 
 known to be far more careless on the subject than 
 himself, and whose lives prove them incapable and 
 unfit for far less weighty and difficult matters. This 
 habitual war between superstition and common sense 
 must produce a distrust of his own judgment, and a men- 
 tal imbecility befitting the subjects of such a system 
 of religion and government; and doubtless completes 
 that degradation of character which a neglected educa- 
 tion at first begins. Men thus become fitted for exactly 
 such a state of things as exists in this country ; and 
 could they be transported across the Atlantic, would 
 be as great anomalies, as Americans are in Rome. It 
 seems incredible that a system of divine origin could 
 ever have produced effects like these ; and the indi- 
 vidual and national improvement in Protestant coun- 
 tries, is a strong practical argument in favour of the 
 soundness of their principles. 
 
344 HOME, 
 
 Late in the afternoon we crossed the Tiber, and 
 entered St. Peter's. As usual the first impression was 
 that of desertion, and for a moment we were not aware 
 of the presence of any thing, except the ranges of stu- 
 pendous columns on each side of us. There were 
 however a great many persons in the church, some 
 kneehng before the statues of saints, some clustered 
 around the confession-boxes, and others walking 
 about ; though to us they appeared no larger than 
 bees and butterflies creeping over the marble floor. 
 In passing through the side aisles also we observed se- 
 veral schools of children, ranged in the corners and 
 reciting their catechism to priests, some of whom 
 attempted to excite a smile in us as we stopped to 
 listen, with such tart questions and remarks as school- 
 masters often repeat, and pupils never venture to 
 reply to. 
 
 The pictures of saints and prophets looked down 
 upon us from the great Mosaics which hung against 
 the columns ; and the pedagogues might sit or lean 
 against monumental pedestals, surmounted by statues 
 and sculptured with the armorial devices and unno- 
 ticed inscriptions of popes and cardinals, kings and 
 princesses, whose costly sepulchres lay deep below. 
 All this time an indistinct sound, like distant voices 
 confusedly mingled together, had been heard, but 
 hardly remarked, in the vaulted roof far above our 
 heads ; and it was only by accident that we disco- 
 vered the place from which they proceeded. A ser- 
 vice was performing in one of the chapels on that 
 side, which was so small that we had passed the door 
 without particularly noticing it, and yet large enough 
 to contain several hundred persons, who appeared to 
 have assembled principally for the sake of the music. 
 A large choir of men were at the moment in the midst 
 of an anthem, and certainly made the best vocal 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 345 
 
 music I had ever heard. It was the sound of their 
 voices, in company with a fine organ, which we had 
 heard so feebly echoed from the roof, and whose origi- 
 nal fulness and power had become entirely exhausted 
 by rising to that dizzy height. 
 
 The approach of evening warned us of home; but we 
 lingered long about the door, before we could per- 
 suade ourselves to pass it for the last time. About 
 seventy and an hundred feet from it, lines are drawn 
 upon the pavement, to show the comparative length 
 of the two next greatest churches in Europe : St. 
 Paul's in London and St. Sophia's in Constantinople. 
 After we had passed by these the eastern wall was still 
 far beyond us, and the view to the opposite end of 
 the church still uninterrupted. The setting sun was 
 shining in at the great window, and after streaming 
 through the dusty air, its light fell upon the pavement 
 not far from the spot where we stood ; and willing to 
 preserve the memory of St. Peter's at a moment like 
 this, we left the place just before it disappeared. 
 
 At a post-house on the Campagna, February 26, at 
 noon. — This morning at six o'clock, the carriage in 
 which we had taken seats came along, drawn by four 
 mules, that walked quietly up street and stopped at 
 our door ; and when our baggage was stowed, we had 
 taken leave of our hearty friends, and were seated 
 with two young men from the Adriatic and an old 
 Bolognese farmer ; a spruce young Tuscan vetturino, 
 Vicenzo by name, cracked his whip and we all set off 
 for Florence. The morning was clear and pleasant, 
 and did all that weather could do to counteract the 
 melancholy thoughts so natural at passing the walls^ 
 and taking a final adieu of the immortal city. 
 
 From the Gate of the People we travelled some 
 time along the ancient Via Flaminia, the stones of 
 
 U 
 
346 ROAD TO FLORENCE. 
 
 which are built into the walls of vineyards on both 
 sides ; and among three or four large ancient tombs, 
 we stopped a moment to examine that of Nero. It 
 preserves its original square form, is still surmounted 
 with an altar, and contains an inscription, which we 
 were prevented from reading, by the unprovoked 
 fierceness of several dogs guarding a herd of cattle in 
 the surrounding field. 
 
 Three miles from the city we crossed Ponte Molle^ 
 the ancient Milvian Bridge, built in the year of Rome 
 645. At this place the Austrians were said to be 
 encamped several days ago : but there were as yet no 
 signs of them here, nor even from the long hills be- 
 yond, over which we travelled for some hours. Like 
 other parts of the Campagna, this tract was almost 
 entirely destitute of habitations and enclosures ; and 
 ibr a long time before we reached this post-house, we 
 did not pass a single dwelling. Here and there were 
 the ruins of old square towers and battlemented walls, 
 which served to remind us of the barbarism which 
 had flowed into Italy with the Goths and Vandals, and 
 to make us melancholy at the thoughts that we had 
 left the ancient seat of the arts, and were bound to a 
 country once so prolific in uncivilized nations. 
 
 At a little turn in the road, twenty well mounted 
 dragoons suddenly appeared in sight, and came on in 
 military order. They wore suits of grey, steel hel- 
 mets, sabres and pistols, with carabines hung at their 
 backs. Their horses were uncommonly fine : and not 
 only their dress, but their weather-beaten faces, and 
 the circumstance that many of them had light com^ 
 plexions and light hair, proved that they were not 
 Roman soldiers. Our party seemed surprised at their 
 appearance, and observed a strict silence as they ap- 
 proached. Vicenzo made all haste to get our lumbering 
 
KOAD TO FLORENCE. ,34>J 
 
 equipage out of the path ; and when they had trotted 
 by, turned round in his saddle, shrugged his shoulders, 
 and said in a timid voice, " Tudeschi !" [Austrians :] 
 then, after watching them a moment, exclaimed with 
 enthusiasm, " Ma che bei cavalli !" [But what beauti- 
 ful horses.] There was something very impressive 
 even in this small body of troops, when we consider- 
 ed them as the precursors of a powerful army, march- 
 ing to subjugate a kingdom. 
 
 When we reached the post-house, we found the 
 Austrians the subject of conversation. The inn- 
 keeper seasons our cheer with an inn-keeper's re- 
 flections, the cook and kitchen-maids are panic- 
 struck, and our companions have swallowed appre- 
 hension with their soup. From the spacious kitchen 
 a door opens into the stable, which is occupied by 
 horses and mules at their mangers, and by a poor 
 woman, who sits by the fire-place in one corner, 
 warming herself and hoping she shall reach home be- 
 fore the arrival of " the foreigners." 
 
 A post-chaise just now drove up on its way to Rome, 
 and all stood ready for the news. The postillion took 
 t)ut the horses ; and while another pair was led out, 
 he respectfully petitioned for the accustomed gra- 
 tuity. The traveller was a stern looking man in a fur 
 cap, and an old military coat of grey German cloth. 
 He had spent his soldier-earnings in soldier-pleasures, 
 and had little left to discharge his honest debts. *' In- 
 deed sir," cried the postillion astonished, " four baioc- 
 chi is very small wages for such a post driven at so 
 unusual a rate." " You shall have no more," replied 
 the Austrian, mangling the sweet language of the 
 country with his cruel. Transalpine tongue ; and off 
 he set again, express for Rome. The postillion stood 
 looking after him till he was out of hearing, as if in 
 him he feared the y^hole army; and then, dashing his 
 
348 ROAD TO rLORENCE. 
 
 money to the ground, declared that, instead of four 
 baiocchi, he would not conduct such a rascal again 
 for four pauls. He next burst into a torrent of satire^ 
 so well suited to the company and the occasion, that 
 the whole party were speedily in a roar of laughter, 
 at the emperor and the army of Austria, their ridicu- 
 lous enterprise and their certain defeat. 
 
 We have contracted with Vicenzo to take us to Flo- 
 rence by the way of Terni, that we might have an op- 
 portunity to see the famous cascade at that place, 
 though the road through Sienna is shorter by twenty or 
 thirty miles. It seems our companions are now dis- 
 posed to change the route, as the postillion has brought 
 news of towns and villages overrun with troops. The 
 Sienna road, it is said, is quite unobstructed : but we 
 have determined to persevere in our original plan, and 
 instead of apprehending danger, or even giving our 
 companions credit for the fears which they express, 
 we anticipate much gratification from seeing the army 
 on its march. 
 
 Nepi, 10 o'clock in the evening.— Mi^v leaving the post-* 
 house and riding two or three miles, we came to the 
 spot where the road divides; and Vicenzo, halting his 
 mules with their heads towards Sienna, inquired which 
 way we would take. The handsome young advocate 
 from the Adriatic, whose name is Alessandro, insisted 
 with much warmth and eloquence on avoiding the 
 soldiers, who, having the whole country as well as 
 ourselves in their power, would doubtless impede and 
 insult, and probably rob and murder us. " If you 
 wish to see the marble-cascade of Terni, they have 
 prints of it in Florence, which give a perfect idea of 
 the place. It would be madness to run all the risques 
 of that road for such an object." We persisted how- 
 ever in our resolution, little respecting the pre- 
 tended fears of our companions, but attributing their 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 349 
 
 preference of the route through Sienna to its short* 
 ness ; and finally prevailed, only by declaring to 
 Vicenzo, that unless he proceeded we would descend, 
 return to Rome, and prosecute his master for his 
 breach of contract. 
 
 As we approached the borders of the Campagnat 
 the surface became more irregular, and swelled into 
 hills of a considerable size, though only a few patches 
 of cultivated ground and some scattering houses were 
 to be seen. On the left we soon discovered the 
 glistening of a musket-barrel and bayonet on the top 
 of a long, bare hill, and found that spot occupied by 
 the most advanced vidette of the Austrian army. 
 The road turned round at the foot of the hill, and 
 brought us near a cottage with an old stone staircase 
 on the outside, and a small fountain in front. Under 
 the shade of some bushes close at hand, sat the nine 
 remaining soldiers of the picket-guard stationed there, 
 some of them busy about their knapsacks, others watch- 
 ing a small pot that hung over a fire on cross sticks, 
 after the fashion of the savages in Robinson Crusoe — 
 their pacific employment strongly contrasted with the 
 ferocious expression which their faces had received 
 from the dress and habits of a soldier, their exposure 
 to the weather, and above all, the long mustachios 
 which extended to their cheeks. In a few minutes 
 another party appeared, collected by the road-side; 
 and as we proceeded, we found them more and 
 more numerous. Our companions groaned : but the 
 soldiers only turned their eyes upon us, and let us 
 pass unquestioned. 
 
 At length we came in sight of a small town, which 
 we discovered was occupied by a considerable body 
 of troops. On entering the streets, every door and 
 window showed an Austrian, a musket, or a cap. Ofii- 
 
350 ^O^^ TO FLORENCE. 
 
 cers were quartered in the houses of the poor inha-* 
 bitants, large empty buildiDgs had been thrown open 
 for barracks : and the horses were at pasture in adja- 
 cent fields of young wheat. 
 
 It was near sunset when we reached this place, 
 which is an old town, on the top of a hill, surrounded 
 by battlemented walls, and having, as usual, an ap- 
 pearance of great antiquity in its weather-beaten 
 houses and dark stone towers. Parties of soldiers 
 were collected without the walls, washing their 
 clothes, polishing their arms, and smoking, quite at 
 their ease ; while large covered wagons, which con- 
 tained ammunition and provisions, were guarded by 
 sentinels ; and horses were fastened by their halters 
 to long ropes, stretched from tree to tree. When we 
 had passed under a dark gate and entered the town, 
 we found the streets so crowded with Austrians that 
 we could hardly proceed. Vicenzo stopped once or 
 twice, uncertain whether he could pass through : for 
 we were yet to go three miles, to reach Civita Castel- 
 lana, the place specified in his contract for our first 
 night's lodging. Here a man came through the crowd, 
 and taking hold of the bridle, told Vicenzo it would 
 be impossible to find food for the mules, or room for 
 the travellers at Civita Castellana, because there were 
 three thousand cavalry in that town ; and if he did 
 not wish to stop all night in the streets, he had better 
 turn the corner and drive to an inn which he descri- 
 bed. Thither accordingly we went, and had scarcely 
 entered the yard, which was half filled with soldiers, 
 carriages, and horses, when our kind adviser made his 
 appearance ia the character of inn-keeper. 
 
 The country in the vicinity of this town is remark- 
 ably picturesque. Just under the windows of the inn, 
 the road which leads out of town runs along the side 
 

 
 .Site 
 
 ©^ 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 35I 
 
 of a hill, defended by a low wall from a high precipice 
 on the right. Below is a dark narrow valley, full two 
 hundred feet deep, scattered with large rocks, broken 
 and worn into irregular shapes by a stream, which 
 though very small at present, sometimes swells to a 
 torrent. The road crosses the valley by a bridge of 
 several arches, on which is placed for the night a 
 small guard of soldiers ; and behind it is a fine modern 
 aqueduct, by which the town is supplied with water, 
 showing its dark arches against the sky, and throwing 
 long shadows over the green bank. The bridge and 
 the deep dell were shaded from the sun, so that the 
 fires kindled by the soldiers were beginning to shine, 
 and added to the singularity of the scene. Struck 
 with the spot we crossed the bridge ; and walking 
 down the opposite bank, found the valley still growing 
 deeper and wilder. The little patches of soil sup- 
 ported on natural terraces, were partly occupied with 
 vines: but below, the bottom of the valley was deeply 
 shaded with large trees ; and the smoke was seen rising 
 from places apparently inaccessible, where small par- 
 ties of Austrian soldiers had taken up their quarters 
 for the night, on the sides of precipices, under the shel- 
 ter of craggy rocks. 
 
 On returning to the inn, we found the large room 
 occupied by a party of officers, who marched about 
 dragging their sabres over the stone floor, and soon 
 sat down to dinner, where they ate, drank, and talked 
 German in excellent spirits, telling old stories, ridi- 
 culing and cursing the servants, thoughtless of their 
 uncertain futurity, and, to our surprise, not speaking a 
 single word of Naples or Neapolitans, 
 
 Our table was at length spread, and our fellow tra- 
 vellers so far forgot their ill humour, as to laugh good 
 naturedly at the camp-dinner that was served up: for, 
 
352 nOAD TO FLORENCE. 
 
 after much time, a kid had been found and butchered, 
 and all the variety we had was produced by frying, 
 roasting, and boiling, the kid and his brains. A young 
 German traveller arrived in a post-chaise, who, as he 
 spoke English, soon joined our party, and contributed 
 largely to the enjoyment of the evening by a fire. 
 He had travelled from Nice to Genoa with our coun- 
 tryman Mr. ; and the accidental mention of this 
 
 circumstance revived a great many recollections of 
 the bay of Naples, as well as of our friend, who was 
 our companion there, and whose warm enthusiasm 
 had thrown such additional interest over that delight- 
 ful scenery. 
 
 Otricoli, February 27, (at noon.) — We have stop- 
 ped as usual for two hours, to feed our mules ; and 
 as the inn is very uninviting, and the weather rainy, I 
 find the most agreeable mode of occupying my time, 
 since w^e have made a slight repast on such provisions 
 as our larder affords, is to sit in the carriage and note 
 down a short description of our morning's ride. 
 
 Before day-break we were summoned to begin our 
 journey. The stables were full of horses and German 
 soldiers, all asleep and some proclaiming audibly that 
 nature was not yet satisfied with the usual equiva- 
 lent for the fatigues of yesterday. As we crossed 
 the bridge, the glowing coals of dying fires shone on 
 the fierce faces and gleaming arms of those who were 
 clustered about them, some asleep, some drowsily 
 guarding the entrance of the town. One of them de- 
 manded our passport; and when he had read by the 
 fire-hght the name of an Austrian officer, whose signa- 
 ture Vicenzo had obtained last evening, he permitted 
 us to proceed. We soon after entered upon an ex- 
 tensive plain scattered with shrub-oaks, and farther 
 on, with large oak trees. 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 353 
 
 Civita Castellana, three miles from Nepi, is the town 
 at which we were to have lodged last night. Just be- 
 fore we entered it the three thousand cavalry had 
 marched out, by a different road, leaving the great 
 square littered with straw, the shop-keepers counting 
 their gains, and the inhabitants so nearly destitute of 
 provisions, that we could obtain nothing but a little 
 thick coffee, and some stale coarse bread. At this 
 place a road branches off to the left, and we had the 
 last opportunity to take the Sienna route. A friend 
 whom our legal fellow passenger Alessandro accident- 
 ally met in the street, communicated the intelligence 
 of the way to Florence being thronged with troops, 
 and of a large body having encamped near Terni 
 yesterday, directly over the cascade, within a short 
 distance of the Neapolitan territory, and within half a 
 mile of a Neapolitan army. A strong attempt was 
 made to induce us to give up our intended course: 
 but we again threatened Vicenzo into obedience, and 
 the mules were turned towards Terni, though we were 
 called madmen, for travelling within five miles of a 
 spot which was probably to be a field of battle in a 
 day or two. We placed little confidence however in 
 the representations we had heard, and were not much 
 pleased with the obtrusive opinions of several stran- 
 gers, who saw fit, not only to advise, but almost to 
 command us. 
 
 Close by the walls of the town we crossed a ravine 
 two or three hundred feet deep, through which ran a 
 brook, between broken, rocky banks, of a remarkably 
 romantic appearance. The country continued per- 
 fectly level as before, and quite uninhabited. On the 
 hills, at a great distance, were clusters of trees and 
 apparently houses : but, for several miles around us, 
 we could see nothing except uncultivated fields, and 
 
 45 
 
354 
 
 ROAD to FLORENCE. 
 
 flocks of crows and plover. At the end of the plain 
 the road wound up a steep hill; and as we went down 
 the other side, we overlooked a large valley, through 
 which the Tiber flows with several bold turns, and 
 saw Borghetto on a hill beyond, at the distance of 
 nine miles. On the edge of the plain was a small hill, 
 whose sides had been cut down to render more diffi- 
 cult of access an old castle which occupied its top, 
 probably once a place of some importance, on account 
 of its vicinity to the bridge over the river. 
 
 A range of hills beyond seemed composed of loose 
 limestone pebbles, of different colours, in several 
 places covered by a volcanic rock, above which, and 
 near an old deserted castle, the ground sloped on all 
 sides into a small circular valley, much resembling the 
 crater of an extinguished volcano. 
 
 The hills have been gradually increasing in height, 
 till they now deserve the name of mountains. The 
 landscape is quite gloomy, presenting only the cheer- 
 less varieties of barren hills in a cloudy day, with no 
 other signs of inhabitants than this wretched village, 
 and another a mile off, which occupies the site of the 
 ancient Otriculum. 
 
 Terni, (in the evening.)— -Soon after leaving Otricoli, 
 we got involved among the mountains as a misty rain 
 began, with only two or three small clusters of houses 
 in sight, surrounded with vineyards : and these were 
 at such a distance, and situated so high, that it would 
 have required a laborious walk of two or three hours 
 to reach them. Here we were met by a party of 
 Austrian dragoons, wrapt in long cloaks of white flan- 
 nel, to defend them from the rain, and moving on at 
 a travelling gait. 
 
 The original rocks of compact limestone now began 
 to appear : for the larger hills seem to have been 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 355 
 
 formed by the dilapidation of the Appennines, and 
 the lesser ones of pebbles rolled by water. 
 
 Two or three long windings of the road at length 
 brought into view a different scene : trees and bushes 
 of various sorts shading the road, and spreading over 
 the hill-sides, with the deep green of an American 
 forest. In one place the road ran along the side of a 
 mountain, and afforded us a fine view down an irregular 
 valley, covered with trees, and watered by a swift 
 stream, which ran below us at the distance of four or 
 five hundred feet. Just at the spot where we reached 
 the highest point of the road, is a small niche cut 
 into the rock for a rough painting of the Holy Mother, 
 with the following inscription : 
 
 " O passagier' chi passa per via, 
 " No scorda salutar Maria." 
 
 [O traveller ! never forget to salute Mary as you pass.] 
 
 A little grotto beyond, offered a convenient shel- 
 ter from a sudden shower of rain : for the carriage 
 was slowly climbing the mountains a considera- 
 ble distance behind. There was room enough in it 
 for a hundred men, and the roof and walls were 
 partly covered with stalactites, so that the excavation 
 might have been formed for centuries. It is difficult 
 to guess the object for which such grottos could have 
 been made. They are however very common, and 
 frequently furnish an agreeable foreground to a land- 
 scape. Had an artist been in that situation, he might 
 have taken hints from the hues and shades in the rus- 
 tic retreat, as well as from the view it commanded 
 down the dark valley below, worthy of the notice and 
 the recollection of a master. 
 
 In a very romantic situation is Narni, a considera- 
 ble town, and the seat of a bishop. By an arched 
 
356 ROAD TO FLORENCE. 
 
 bridge we crossed an irregular ravine; and having 
 passed through the town, descended upon a large 
 extent of level ground, through which the Tiber 
 makes a beautiful serpentine course. There is a 
 muddy, greenish colour in its water here, as at Rome, 
 quite different from that of our rivers. On the left, 
 our wide prospect was bounded by a ridge of high 
 land, at the distance of five or six miles, which pre- 
 sented a most agreeable sight. It was covered with 
 a coat of green olive trees, and very thickly scattered 
 with white buildings— sufficient proofs that we were 
 approaching a country of healthful air, good soil, and 
 industrious men ; and was well calculated to delight our 
 eyes, after the dispiriting landscapes to which they had 
 so long been accustomed. 
 
 We continued for a long time travelling over the plain, 
 which was partly covered with green wheat, and partly 
 with poplar and mulberry trees, planted in rows, and 
 each supporting a vine. The mode in which these 
 trees are shaped struck us as a great novelty. The 
 trunk is cut off at a height often feet from the ground, 
 and the branches, which spring out near the top, are 
 fastened with hoops until they bend from all sides, 
 with great regularity, and point upwards. The 
 branches are cut off at an equal height, so that they 
 bear a near resemblance to the ribs of a corn-basket. 
 On each tree is a vine; and as the vinedressers were 
 at work, we had an opportunity of seeing how they 
 prepare for the next season. The spurs which bore 
 grapes last year are now cut away as useless; and 
 those which sprouted two years ago are trimmed, 
 twisted together by couples, and tied with willow 
 withes to the bare branches of the trees; so that in 
 summer each tree must be covered with the leaves of 
 its vines, and become a beautiful cluster of verdure, 
 in the shape of an umbrella. 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 357 
 
 A man was ploughing at a little distance, with an 
 instrument of a singular, but I believe most antique 
 form. It was made of a crooked stick, six feet long, 
 one end fitted for a handle, and the other fastened 
 with a small piece of wood nearly oval, which lay 
 horizontally, and performed the part of a plough- 
 share. This is the first instance I have seen in Italy, 
 of the soil being broken by any thing except hoes and 
 spades. A very striking change was manifested to- 
 day in the breeds of domestic animals. The oxen, 
 hogs and sheep were much smaller on this side the 
 last ridge of mountains, and approached those of our 
 own country in size and appearance. 
 
 Before us now began to appear a range of moun- 
 tains, the highest parts of which were striped with 
 snow. The hills at their feet were covered with dark 
 olives, and just at the edge of the plain stands the 
 town of Terni. The road at length wound among 
 gardens, crossed a bridge, and brought us to the gate, 
 where we had to show our passports to an officer, 
 and then entered the town. It was in the dusk of the 
 evening when we stopped at the gate of an inn, situ- 
 ated on a square and facing an old church. The inn- 
 keeper refused to receive us, because he had a hun- 
 dred officers to lodge ; and we remained some time 
 doubtful what to do. Fourteen thousand men marched 
 out this morning to the cascade, where they are now 
 encamped in full view of the Neapolitans, who are 
 also in considerable force. Twelve thousand men 
 have come into Terni in the course of the day, and 
 the town is so full that it will be in vain to seek a 
 lodging elsewhere. We proposed sleeping in the car- 
 riage; but were at length permitted to go in, with 
 the promise of the best accommodations circumstan- 
 ces would allow. The dining-room contained a large 
 
358 l^OAD TO FRORENCE. 
 
 and somewhat noisy party of officers at table, and we 
 soon forced the coachman to have a fire made, of a size 
 that would have honoured the kitchen of a New-Eng- 
 land farm-house. Our dinner was probably less in- 
 viting than we might have expected on the Sienna 
 road, but we had now an opportunity to see what was 
 of more value : the behaviour of a large party of 
 soldiers on the eve of a battle. They either did not 
 expect to fight, or they were very indifferent on the 
 subject; for as soon as the sour wine they were drink- 
 ing had begun to make itself felt, they laughed as if 
 they bore ill-will to nobody on earth. 
 
 We had almost given up our excursion to the cas- 
 cade, when an old man offered his services as guide, 
 and produced a pocket full of certificates from various 
 travellers, written in Italian, English, French, German, 
 Dutch, and Danish ; and we have finally determined 
 to set out very early in the morning. 
 
 March \st^ moiming. — Last evening the old man we 
 had engaged as a guide, undertook to conduct me to 
 the opera ; for I had seen " Cinderiila" advertised — 
 " Music by the great master Rossini." It rained, and 
 was extremely dark. I followed through several nar- 
 row lanes, which the old man had chosen, to avoid, as 
 he said, " the sentinels of these cursed Austrians." 
 In a square, where a single light dazzled our eyes, we 
 suddenly heard a shout in German, close behind us, 
 and in an instant a musket-barrel, with a long bright 
 bayonet, glistened almost in our faces. " O santissi- 
 ma !" screamed the old man, in extreme alarm — 
 *' What is the matter .f^" but the soldier only cursed 
 him by his gods, and beat him with his gun, till he ran 
 roaring down the street. He was forced therefore to 
 take another route, through narrow allies full of stum- 
 bling holes, and so dark that I knew where he went 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 359 
 
 chiefly by the continual vollies of sweet Italian oaths, 
 he kept pouring out upon all Austrians without dis- 
 tinction of age or sex. The house was mean and 
 crowded principally with officers : the orchestra was 
 WTetched in the extreme. Cinderilla was an old 
 woman of Mtj, with a set of sharp features not much 
 improved by the loss of her teeth, her father was not 
 more than twenty-five, and her sisters were awkward, 
 foolish and affected girls, with sprawling red hands. 
 On my return I missed the way, and was soon hailed 
 by a sentinel at one of the city gates. He was a short, 
 stupid fellow, muffled in a grey great-coat, and could 
 not speak a word of French or Italian, so that 1 was 
 obliged to wander about the streets near half an hour, 
 when I was again ordered to stand, and might not 
 have found my way till now, had I not met with a 
 priest who kindly directed me home. The house was 
 full indeed, for I had to pass through a chamber occu- 
 pied by four sleeping Frenchmen, who started up, 
 thinking I had come to butcher them ; and when I 
 reached my bed, which was probably the only empty 
 one in town, and so lofty, that it needed a horse-block 
 and stirrup to mount it. 
 
 At five this morning we set out for the Cascade. On 
 inquiring of our guide whether he was furnished with 
 a passport, which we had been told was indispensible, 
 he replied by placing his finger significantly on his 
 nose ; and when we were accosted at the city gate 
 with " Who's there .f^" he only said " Buon giorno ! 
 amici !" [Good morning ! we are friends,] and we pro- 
 ceeded without further challenge. We demanded of 
 the old man by what means his words had become 
 possessed of so much efficacy, for we had been as- 
 sured it would be impossible to pass the walls with- 
 out a written permission from the commanding officer, 
 
360 ROAD TO FLORENCE. 
 
 and the mere sound of his voice, in a dark night, had 
 opened the passage like the sessame of the Forty 
 Thieves. To this he answered, in a mysterious vrhis- 
 per, that the sentinel was quartered in the stables of 
 our inn, where he had become acquainted with him, 
 and made all necessary arrangements the evening 
 before. 
 
 After we had walked on some time among gardens 
 and vineyards, day broke, and we found ourselves 
 already shut in by high hills, and following a winding 
 path in the valley. The ground beyond was occupied 
 with olive-trees, many of which were extremely old^ 
 having lost nearly all but their bark by gradual decay. 
 The old man assured us that some of them had been 
 planted a thousand years ! and that it would be a de- 
 lightful thing if men were as long lived : — on second 
 thoughts however he did not think there would be 
 room enough for them all. (The man had never been 
 in America.) He desired us to keep our eyes about 
 us, for fear of being interrupted ; and if we saw any 
 soldiers, to leave the road and walk silently among 
 the olive-trees, to escape observation. The path at 
 length became very narrow, and descended into a 
 darker valley surrounded by mountains, which were 
 shaded with green olive-trees half way up their sides ; 
 and a conical hill rose opposite us, with an old town 
 and castle on its top, while at the base a brook, the 
 Naro, came running gaily towards us, and hurrying 
 boisterously over a rocky channel. When we reached 
 the opposite side, we proceeded warily for some time 
 through the olive-grounds, when suddenly we discover^ 
 ed a picket-guard of ten Austrian soldiers, stationed 
 where they might look down the valley. It was still 
 so dark however, on account of the high mountains 
 by which we were quite surrounded, that they had not 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 361 
 
 observed our approach, and were now sitting round a 
 small fire in grim society. The old man put his finger 
 on his lips, as a sign to us to be still ; and turning to 
 the left, led us across the valley, passing the brook on 
 a narrow bridge. Then, after traversing several pri- 
 vate gardens, with familiar salutations to such as we 
 met, he brought us to the foot of the opposite moun- 
 tain. Here was a fine path, leading near the bank of 
 the brook, which has worn a deep channel into a 
 bed of white limestone, singularly concreted in large 
 masses, sometimes through beautiful orange-groves, 
 and now and then before a house, half built, half ex- 
 cavated from the rock. About a mile farther up, where 
 the valley had become very narrow, dark and wild, 
 we saw the cascade springing from the mountain, and 
 falling in a narrow sheet of white foam, three hundred 
 and seventy feet. The beauty is much increased by 
 the rocks near the bottom, on which the water breaks, 
 and runs down in a thousand little streams. We had 
 to climb a rocky hill just opposite, which is the best 
 point of view ; and there we found a rustic arbour, 
 and a cushion of dry leaves, from which we enjoyed 
 at our leisure the delightful scene below. The Aus- 
 trians were encamped just beyond the brow of the 
 precipice, so that they were invisible to us ; and the 
 noise of the army was drowned by the dash of the 
 water-fall. The Velino, as the brook is called before 
 it reaches this place, rises in the Neapolitan domi- 
 nions, which are so near that our guide, who much 
 vaunted his knowledge of the country, declared that he 
 could lead us safely to the frontier in two hours, by 
 blind paths through the woods, unknown and unoccu- 
 pied by the Austrians. He then looked up doubtfully 
 into our eyes, as if he suspected from our inquiring 
 the distance that we were disposed to join the rerolw" 
 
 4^5 
 
3(52 KAOD TO FLORENCE. 
 
 tionists, and had some more important object in view 
 than the cascade. But he soon discovered his mis- 
 take, and led us back down the valley. As a large 
 body of troops were to march out early to the camp, 
 he avoided the road, and conducted us by foot-paths 
 through cultivated fields, which were irrigated by 
 ditches communicating with the Naro. Here were 
 vines trained on sticks, wheat, and gardens of vegeta- 
 bles ; and the peasants we met all recognised our 
 guide. He called them by their Christian names, and 
 with rustic politeness bade "good morning," with 
 his hat in his hand, to several old women we met, 
 with long waists, old-fashioned ear-rings, and cruci- 
 fiises on their necks. We passed several mills and 
 manufactories, which are carried by the water of the 
 brook. The path led through the ruins of a monas- 
 tery, which with a nunnery situated on the other side 
 of the Naro, was burnt two centuries ago by one 
 of the popes, on account of the ill-conduct of the 
 recluses. 
 
 San Giacomo, March 1 — To pass the ridge of moun- 
 tains, the ascent of which we began soon after leav- 
 ing Terni, took nearly the whole day. The scenery 
 was of a magnificent but desolate character : for 
 though near their bases the mountains were partly 
 covered with bushes and trees, the sides and summits 
 presented a surface of loose grey rocks, which some- 
 times lay together like the ruins of some ancient for- 
 tress, while their immense height, and the extensive 
 wastes between, convinced us that no human being 
 had ever accomplished the ascent. Many of these 
 summits could never have been attained in less time 
 than three or four days ; and a man must inevitably 
 starve on such a desert. No dwellings were to- be 
 seen, no cultivated ground, and no other intimation of 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 3^3 
 
 the existence of men, but the road, which is broad 
 and fine, following the drj bed of a torrent, sufficient- 
 ly elevated above the channel to secure it from danger 
 in the rainy seasons. From the very edge of the 
 path, enormous rocks of limestone often rose high into 
 the air, and others jutted out from among the trees 
 and hung almost over our heads ; while far above, 
 the immense mountains seemed to look down in scorn 
 on the feeble attempts of men, who, after so many cen- 
 turies, have been barely able to effect a passage 
 through them. 
 
 Here we met several parties of soldiers, some on 
 foot, some on horse-back, wrapped in cloaks and great- 
 coats, to defend them from a misty rain, and trudging 
 silently on as if wearied by a laborious march. It was 
 impossible to avoid remarking their good order, and 
 peaceable and obliging deportment : for whether we 
 met them in companies, or singly, they always gave us 
 a share of the road, and frequently saluted us in 
 French with " Bon jour !" or in German or Italian — 
 " Guten dag meinheer !" " Buon giorno signore !" 
 Some of the soldiers were accompanied by their 
 wives and children, who were usually on horseback, 
 the women though clad in their husbands' uniform coats 
 and carrying canteens slung over their shoulders, show- 
 ed, by their woe-begone countenances, that they were 
 comparing these desolate mountains with some com- 
 fortable German landscape, and the plenty and quiet 
 of a distant country with the privations, labour and 
 sufferings of an army on the march. 
 
 Thus we travelled, and among such scenes, till near 
 the close of the day, when we found ourselves free of 
 the mountains, and approaching an extensive tract of 
 level country, across which the road ran in a straight 
 line for several miles. The town of Spoleto, which 
 occupied the top and sides of a hill in front, is sur- 
 
364 ^^^^ TO FLORENCE, 
 
 rounded by walls, and contains a castle built by The- 
 odoric. Two hundred Austrians were filing out, who 
 so filled up the road, that an officer ordered us to 
 drive round under the walls, without attempting to 
 enter the city. At that place we had designed to 
 spend the night, and were thus forced to lengthen our 
 ride three miles to reach this inn. Spoleto was so 
 completely overrun with troops, that a large body had 
 halted without the walls ; where the fields, planted 
 with trees and vines, and covered with a crop of 
 young wheat, were allotted to their encampment. On 
 both sides of us were hundreds of horses fastened to 
 long ropes, tents pitched, artillery and ammunition- 
 wagons collected and guarded by sentinels. Soldiers 
 were seated in clusters, eating, smoking and scouring 
 their arms. Others were leaning against gun-car- 
 riages and telling tales, probably of former campaigns. 
 The " Feld schmidt," [camp smith,] had opened his 
 moveable furnace, and was shoeing horses ; children 
 were asleep with their heads laid on their fathers' 
 knapsacks ; and mothers seemed happy with the hope 
 of a night's repose, but frequently looked with dread 
 at their disheartening prospects — the mountains just 
 before them, the fatigues and troublesof which were in 
 reserve for to-morrow. 
 
 San Giacomo, the village where we have stopped, 
 is a solitary cluster of houses, from which the view 
 reaches on every side over some part of the plain, 
 varied only by vineyards, wheat-fields, and a few rows 
 of trees. Before sunset however, the slanting light 
 threw an air of gaiety over the green level ground, 
 contrasting it beautifully with the tall ridges of moun- 
 tains, which lay in a deep shade. 
 
 After a short stroll, which allowed Vicenzo time to 
 fodder his mules, we returned to the inn at the time 
 when the children were leaving the street^ and the 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 365 
 
 candles were beginning to shine on the faces of quiet 
 families seated around their tables. By a wooden gate 
 we entered the yard, and stepping up an outside stone 
 staircase, reached the kitchen of the smallest inn it 
 has been our fortune to see in Italy. It is indeed of 
 so unpretending a description that no traveller would 
 ever think of entering it, unless, as in our case, hard 
 driven by necessity. The kitchen has a rough stone 
 floor and two windows without glass, capable of 
 being closed only by wooden shutters, yet it is the 
 only parlour and dining-room. A large permanent 
 table occupies the centre; and with chairs and 
 benches we soon drew a circle round the fire-place, 
 which was formed after a reduced model of those in 
 our farm-houses, and supplied with several logs of a 
 generous size, placed on andirons, and illuminating 
 many happy faces with a brilliant blaze. 
 
 The inmates had been already apprised of the 
 length of time since we had tasted food, and seemed 
 well acquainted with the fact that the passage of the 
 mountains is an excellent sharpener of the appetite. 
 They therefore set themselves without delay to pre- 
 pare us a supper. This caused no little calculation, 
 whispering, and argument among three sprightly 
 young women, who seemed of various opinions con- 
 cerning our fare: but as the ultimate appeal lay in all 
 cases with their mother — a poor woman with an intel- 
 ligent face — the questions were soon decided : a pot 
 was hung over the fire for soup, two fowls were put 
 upon a spit, and basted with butter melting from a roll 
 of paper, and two more were properly flattened out 
 and laid in the frying-pan. The cheerfulness of this 
 plain family, their unaffected good-will, together with 
 the appearance which every thing bore of honest po- 
 verty aiming at comfort unadorned, presented a whole 
 
366 ROAD TO FLORENCE. 
 
 which I never before imagined an Italian scene could 
 furnish. 
 
 "I am glad the foreigners are all gone by at last," 
 said the good woman, " the house has been overrun 
 with them for several days. Sometimes indeed there 
 were so many, that a hundred have been forced to 
 sleep together in' our yard. Not that they are bad 
 customers, for they pay well for every thing they 
 have ; but that you may be sure of room enough, and 
 a whole bed apiece, though, as you see, our stock of 
 provisions is well-nigh exhausted." " Excuse me, gen- 
 tlemen," she added, " for stepping between you and 
 the fire — ^Iwas afraid your soup would be spoiled." 
 Ere this, a good old widowed aunt had caught three 
 pretty little children, who had been exercising too 
 much locomotion, and having consigned them over to 
 the care of Morpheus, by the simple spells of trotting 
 and humming, soon put them out of sight and out of 
 mind. 
 
 When the soup was at length done, and the macca- 
 roni had been put in long enough to make the soup 
 deserve the name of " una pasta," [a paste,] we sat 
 down at table, as happy as travellers have a right to 
 be in such circumstances, and quite forgetful of the 
 Sienna road. Just then there was a trampling in the 
 yard ; and one of the girls running to the door, re- 
 turned with a fallen countenance, to report that a 
 body of troops had arrived. At the same instant 
 heavy boots and rattling sabres were heard on the 
 steps, and a young officer and two soldiers entered, 
 with such overhanging whiskers and lowering aspects, 
 that we dreamed only of a battle for our supper. 
 They bowed respectfully, however, and sat down in 
 silence. One of the soldiers spoke of supper — "Gen- 
 tlemen," said our hostess, " we can prepare you a meal 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE, 357 
 
 of such as we have, in half an hour." The soldier 
 translated this to the officer in German, and then re- 
 turned the following reply : " Signora, the master says 
 it is very well ; he is hungry, but not impatient :" and 
 then dropping his head on one shoulder, he instantly 
 fell asleep. " The master," however, had apparent- 
 ly, something of greater interest upon his heart : for 
 though he had been all day on the march, he sat 
 looking steadfastly into the fire, with his bold fieatures 
 drawn into an expression of the deepest abstraction ; 
 while the martial air of a young soldier began to give 
 place to the attitude of an absent lover. Were Don 
 Quixote here, thought I, that warm friend of lovers, 
 we should be certain of hearing one of those interest- 
 ing tales in which he took so much delight. But this 
 inamorato, (for such he surely must be,) was allowed 
 to follow undisturbed the current of his thoughts till 
 supper was announced. " Johann !" cried he. The 
 sleeping soldier sprang up, with a loud ejaculation 
 which intimated that he was dreaming of some des- 
 perate struggle, probably with the Neapohtans: but 
 when " the master" had roused him with a shake, he 
 looked bewildered, and then mortified and grieved, 
 and prepared to take a stand, like corporal Trim, 
 behind his chair. This the young officer would not 
 allow, but made him sit at table opposite himself, and 
 half forgot the distinctions of rank in thoughts of home 
 in a foreign land. The other, who performed the of- 
 fice of waiter, had a long grey surtout buttoned up 
 to his chin, a limp in his gait, and his head corres- 
 pondently thrust forward ; but his plain honest fea- 
 tures, and ready obedient manners, were those of an 
 attached and grateful serving-man. The countenance 
 of the officer sufficiently indicated a warm heart and 
 an open one : but the carriage of his attendants proved 
 
36B ^OAD TO FLORENCE. 
 
 that he bore both their respect and their love, so that 
 we thought we risked little in liking him on trust. 
 
 Vicenzo, who possesses all those agreeable collo- 
 quial qualities which often spread a surprising degree 
 of urbanity over the manners of the lower classes in 
 this country, had now dressed his face in smiles, and 
 put in requisition every graceful gesture ; for he has 
 more than one friend under this humble roof. The 
 girls, if they spoke Enghsh, would certainly call him 
 ^'very agreeable;" and the harmless policy of the 
 mother, I think, increased a little the breadth of her 
 smiles, at every sally of his wit. Seating himself be- 
 side one of the daughters, he melted his rough Tuscan 
 dialect into as much softness as possible, and occa- 
 sionally touched his heart with a graceful wave of the 
 hand, while she sighed and looked into the fire. " Is 
 not this place called San Giacomo ?" inquired one of 
 the soldiers, at the instigation of his master : " Yes," 
 replied Vicenzo, with a quick turn in his eyes, and 
 adding a singular burlesque imitation of those append- 
 ages often fixed to the names of saints — " San Giacomo 
 delle belle donne," [St. James of the pretty girls.] 
 
 Perugia, March 2. — At nine our lumbering vehi- 
 cle, drawn by its four perverse mules, entered Foligno, 
 a considerable town, of which however our road-book 
 has recorded only these few particulars : — " It contains 
 several churches and palaces with a few pictures, and 
 a convent where may be seen a Raphael." But we 
 passed directly on, for the town was filled with six- 
 teen thousand Austrians, and were not allowed to 
 stop one moment. The adjacent fields were trodden 
 down by horses, and deeply ploughed by the wheels 
 of gun-carriages, and those enormous canvass-covered 
 wagons which contain the provisions, baggage and am- 
 munition of the soldiers. These machines, with their 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 369 
 
 size and number, left us astonished at the weighty 
 bulk of the bare necessaries of an army ; and ac^ 
 counted in a good degree for the enormous expense at 
 which wars are carried on, even at this advanced 
 period of the world. They showed too in a most 
 striking light the political importance of roads, and 
 how rivers, morasses and mountains might be useful 
 to an invaded country. 
 
 We had been travelling ever since yesterday after- 
 noon on the immense valley of Umbria, which extends, 
 without the interruption of a single hillock, about 
 twenty or twenty-five miles, from one ridge of moun- 
 tains to another. Spello, on the site of the ancient 
 Hispellum, occupies a high hill just at the edge of the 
 valley, and there we stopped a full hour. A tiresome 
 walk up several streets brought us to a coffee-house, 
 a public square and two churches, containing two or 
 three specimens of Roman sculpture of no particular 
 interest ; and with one of my countrymen I climbed 
 to the summit of the hill, by a street of unusual 
 steepness. Here, under an old square tower of the 
 castle, and in front of a convent of Capuchins, is a 
 little promenade called " Piazza bel veduta," from 
 which the view is very extensive and delightful. The 
 eye ranges without interruption over the Valley of 
 Umbria, whose surface seemed one immense vineyard, 
 except where it shows an occasional cottage and the 
 shining surfaces of a few little ponds at the distance of 
 many miles. Just below us on the right hand, lay a 
 range of hills on the margin of the plain, whose irre- 
 gular sides, wherever they were capable of culti- 
 vation, were terraced and occupied as gardens, or 
 planted with vines and orange trees. Several lonely 
 and ruinous towers stood on their summits ; and imme- 
 diately behind rose the dark and inaccessible moun- 
 
 47 
 
3/0 *^OAD TO FLORENCE. 
 
 tains, the tallest of which were perfectly white with 
 snow. 
 
 While we were admiring so fine a scene, an old 
 monk came out of the convent, and passed near us 
 several times, with such looks as are natural to a 
 modest man while meditating a suitable address for a 
 stranger. We saved his invention any further trial by 
 speaking first, when he most gladly approached, in his 
 suit of black, with a silver-headed cane, and entered 
 into conversation with a willing mind and a low, quick 
 voice. The convent, he said, Was formerly filled with 
 " religious i^' but now, since the times of the French, 
 contained only seven or eight, yet it was not quite 
 stripped of its riches, for he would promise us much gra- 
 tification if we would consent to Walk in and look at 
 the pictures in the chapel. The scene under our 
 eyes however was too attractive to permit it, particu- 
 larly as we had discovered just below us, at the base 
 of the hills, the ruins of a Roman amphitheatre. Un- 
 fortunately the old man had not devoted his leisure 
 and retirement to books, but seemed to have satisfied 
 himself with forming conjectures about the world, of 
 which he can scarcely consider himself a member. 
 He had therefore little to say of the amphitheatre, 
 and still less of the Gothic towers on the hills : but he 
 pointed out the road we had yet to travel, which 
 stretched away before us far across the plain, passing 
 a magnificent church, and leading on towards Perugia, 
 which was seen among the green hills fifteen miles off. 
 The church, he said, was that of our Lady of the 
 Angels : and a town a little to the right of it was 
 Assisi, in which he showed us a convent founded by St. 
 Francis — indeed the place where the order of Fran- 
 ciscans was originally established. There he assured 
 UB had been discovered, within a few months, the 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 371 
 
 remains of that Saint, buried in an iron chest, in a spot 
 long unsuspected, and revealed in a dream to a monk 
 of the convent. 
 
 The old man expatiated on the beauty and fertility 
 of the Valley of Umbria, and lamented the degene- 
 racy of man — the only cause, in his opinion, why the 
 country around us was not as populous and as produc- 
 tive as any spot on the face of the earth. " This val- 
 ley," he said, " was formerly covered with an indus- 
 trious and happy people. It possesses a most luxu- 
 riant soil, and is free from those pestilential vapours 
 which are said to abound in the regions far off towards 
 the south. But a long succession of wars have almost 
 drained it of inhabitants, and corrupted the morals 
 and the habits of those who remain." We now re- 
 marked that large tracts of land, which had been ob- 
 scured by the distance, were entirely uncultivated ; 
 and that the number of white cottages was very small, 
 though sufficient to give an enlivening air to the scene. 
 " What a pity," he continued, " that such a country 
 should be almost laid waste by the foolish disputes of 
 kings ! You have seen the Austrian army passing 
 through it to punish the rebellious Neapolitans ! 
 What mighty numbers they bring with thero^^they 
 cannot withstand such a force. Ah, unfortunate 
 Christians ! so ignorant of their own good, and that 
 of their fellow men, as not to rest content with the 
 blessings God has given them !" These were the re» 
 flections of a man cut off from the society of his race, 
 with such a taste for peaceful pleasures as he had 
 acquired from the beautiful scene of rural quiet below, 
 with such elevated ideas as the sublimity of the moun-. 
 tains would naturally inspire, and with such distortde 
 conceptions of the world as if he had looked down upon 
 it from a cloud, 
 
372 ROAD TO FLORENCE. 
 
 With that curiosity which is always felt and usually 
 betrayed by a person of secluded habits concerning 
 the stranger who visits his retreat, he brought about, 
 by some simple stratagem, an inquiry of whence we 
 had come and whither we were going. Of America 
 he knew little except that it had been discovered by 
 Columbus : and though he thought it was a great way 
 oflP— a very great way — he rolled his eyes in utter 
 amazement, when he heard we had had to travel more 
 than four thousand miles to reach Spello. When we at 
 length bade adieu to his goodness and simplicity, he 
 made a respectful reverence, as the inhabitants of a 
 far and unknown world ; and we began to descend the 
 hill, leaving him to reflect that however extensive the 
 Valley of Umbria, it occupied a less important space 
 on the earth than he had imagined, and that probably 
 some of his notions of mankind might prove erro- 
 neous when measured by his extended scale. 
 
 As we passed down the steep and difficult streets, 
 the inhabitants viewed us with distant dread and an 
 eye on their little children, evidently taking us for 
 strolling Austrians, concerning whom they seemed to 
 entertain many ill-defined fears. At the foot of the 
 hill, on the top of a tower sixty feet high, is an olive 
 tree of considerable size, which it is said has been 
 growing in that singular situation for two hundred 
 years. Near at hand is an ancient Roman gate. 
 
 At the inn we obtained a flattering specimen of the 
 productions of the neighbouring valley, in some sweet 
 white wine, at eight baiocchi [cents] a bottle, and 
 then walked on a mile to the amphitheatre. It was of 
 considerable size and built in the usual manner, but 
 quite neglected and in a ruinous state. From this 
 spot the hill was viewed in its turn, crowned with the 
 lower and convent. 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 373 
 
 Resuming our seats in the carriage we rode on 
 three miles to the church of St. Mary of the Angels^ 
 and were much surprised at the loneliness of its situa- 
 tion as well as at its size and magnificence. If I might 
 trust my eyes, there are not more than three or four 
 larger churches in Rome ; and there was a large amount 
 of weahh in pictures and statues. A chapel dedi- 
 cated to St. Francis is quite covered with some thou- 
 sands of trifles and trinkets, deposited there hy such 
 as imagined themselves benefitted by means of his 
 interposition. Yet, as if to caricature a leading trait 
 in the moral physiognomy of the country, all this noble 
 architecture and costly decoration are isolated, in a 
 wide extent of country almost depopulated, and where 
 the few inhabitants one meets with are reduced to the 
 lowest grade of poverty, and ground and stamped in 
 the dust. Clustering about the church were half a 
 dozen wretched hovels, whence issued twenty or 
 thirty miserable women and children, coming about 
 us with pitiable cries, and supplying each individual 
 of our party with two or three most incessant and per- 
 severing beggars as long as we remained. Many pil- 
 grims resort to this place everj year : but if we should 
 ever meditate an undertaking of this sort, I am cer- 
 tain this herd of wretched beings would not be forgot- 
 ten, and an exposure to their begging mania would 
 be entered among the trials of a pilgrimage. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon ere we reached the 
 other side of the plain, and crossed the Tiber by a 
 stone bridge built in the reign of Augustus. Two 
 dams are built here near each other, over which the 
 water, much raised by the rains, was pouring with 
 great violence. The land now rose into hills of 
 such steepness that Vicenzo was fain to accept of the 
 proposal made by a boy, namely that he should fasten 
 
374 no AD TO FLORENCE. 
 
 a pair of large grey oxen before the mules, to assist 
 them in drawing us up. The smooth road and the flat 
 and boundless vineyards of the valley, were thus sud- 
 denly exchanged for a toilsome ascent and the shade 
 of hills enclosed with evergreen olives. When we 
 had reached a sufficient height, numerous hill-sides 
 and summits appeared in view, some of them strong- 
 ly illuminated by the sun, which was hidden from 
 our sight and near the horizon ; while far below us 
 was a circular valley, like an immense goblet, lying 
 in the shade of the surrounding mountains and con- 
 taining in its bosom the vineyards and gardens of 
 Perugia, divided into a thousand little patches of 
 different colours and scattered over the irregular 
 ground. 
 
 The city itself occupies a high and broken hill a 
 mile or two beyond, and seems ready at any time 
 to resist a considerable force, as the road is led 
 along a steep cliflfj through several gates and at the 
 foot of a very high wall, from which stones might 
 be dropped with the most fatal effect. A large 
 square to which this conducted us commanded an 
 extensive view towards the west, over ranges of hills 
 and mountains, clad in a coat of deep green and 
 shining beautifully under the setting sun. From 
 this place branched off several broad streets, well 
 built, and of a most inviting appearance, paved with 
 good stones and supplied with side-walks, the first we 
 have seen in Italy, excepting only those at Pompeii. 
 There are many marble basins in different parts of 
 the town, curiously carved with griffins and other 
 monsters : but the source of water by which they 
 were supplied has entirely failed, having been cut off 
 about twenty years since during a siege the city sus- 
 tained from a band of robbers. 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE* 375 
 
 After the necessary attention to our passports, we 
 put ourselves under the guidance of a little boj who 
 offered to conduct us to the principal objects of 
 curiosity, and set off at a great pace lest we should 
 be overtaken by the darkness. There are the re- 
 mains of a Roman temple, and an arch quite entire 
 which bears this inscription on one side : "Augusta 
 Perusa," and is said to have been raised by Caius Ces- 
 tius. The cathedral, here called the " Duomo," is a 
 large church, and has some of its windows ornamented 
 with barbarous stained glass; while the Public Palace 
 is furnished with many small and crowded arcades 
 which break the wall. I am aware of the veneration 
 with which such specimens of building are regarded 
 in many of the northern countries of Europe: yet the 
 Gothic style, that unworthy successor — nay, that base 
 supplanter — of the pure taste of Greece, must always 
 be viewed with unmingled disgust, in such situations as 
 are calculated to remind one of its intrusion. Where- 
 ever the Romans extended the conquests of their 
 arms they carried the models of Rome — composed of 
 the simple elements of beauty and magnificence : but 
 the northern hordes swept away all traces of them, to 
 prepare for the whimsical combinations — the phantas- 
 tic jumble — of clustered columns, pointed arches and 
 coloured glass, which they called architecture. The 
 feelings therefore of a traveller on meeting the current 
 of barbarism, are similar to what he may have felt at 
 stepping on the edge of an old course of lava, which has 
 swept across the luxuriant fields at the base of Vesuvius. 
 To confess the truth, such a dreary waste now seems 
 to us to lie spread out to the north, and I fear it will 
 demand no little labour to persuade our minds to 
 forget the objects with which antiquity has delighted 
 us, and condescend to the enjoyment of modern im- 
 
376 ROAD TO FLORENCE. 
 
 provements of greater value, affecting more imme- 
 diately the interests of man. 
 
 The Arco del Conca is a wooden bridge, which 
 reaches across a valley to afford a more direct commu- 
 nication between the two hills. It is thrown at a great 
 height over a street, and passes I believe in Perugia 
 for one of the wonders of the world. We found a very 
 convenient walk along the city walls, which is partly 
 furnished with shops on one side, covered by buildings 
 over head, and quite shut up from the external air, ex- 
 cept where embrasures and loop-holes furnish it at 
 once with light and a view of the surrounding pictu- 
 resque country. In rainy weather this is a fashionable 
 promenade for the citizens. 
 
 The Austrians have so nearly stripped the inn that 
 we got no wine but some that was very thin and sour, 
 the poorest production of a neighbourhood by no 
 means celebrated in this particular at any time. Our 
 Bolognese companion spoke of the pleasure he antici- 
 pated in showing us the beautiful fields and the supe- 
 rior state of society in Tuscany : " Ah !" cried Vi- 
 cenzo, who according to the custom prevalent in Italy, 
 sat at table with his passengers, " Ah ! you may well 
 begin to talk of that — it is high time to mention Tus- 
 cany : for to-morrow night we shall be in our own 
 country — the land of good wine, (casting a glance at 
 the miserable beverage before us,) red, sweet wine; ij 
 and the country of ladies, (looking at us, and pro- 
 nouncing with all the roughness of his Tuscan tongue,) i 
 ladies as fair as those of Americha." i 
 
 Castiglione, March 3. — At half past five we left 
 Perugia, and were a full hour in descending the hills 
 by a winding road, which, as the dayhght increas- 
 ed, presented many beautiful scenes — their sides co- 
 vered with olives, and sloping at various angles to a 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 377 
 
 few spots of ploughed land and the smooth declining 
 road. The morning was clear and serene, and every 
 thing around us wore that aspect of calmness and 
 beauty which often spreads so much solemnity over a 
 landscape, and fixes the recollection of it with such 
 distinctness on the mind. Here we met small parties of 
 peasants going to the town with bundles of brush- 
 w^ood, quantities of vegetables, and little lambs and 
 kids peeping out of baskets and bags. 
 
 The winding road at length opened upon a plain 
 ten or fifteen miles in extent, reduced to a most beauti- 
 ful system of cultivation. The ground was divided with 
 perfect regularity by innumerable canals and ditches, 
 for supplying every part of the soil with the moist- 
 ure it requires in the dry season. Large sluices tra- 
 verse the plain in parallel lines, and at the elevation 
 of several feet above the surface. They are guarded 
 by strong dykes of earth, and the road crosses them 
 on handsome bridges, built with uniformity and placed 
 at equal distances. Ditches branch off from each 
 of these canals, and these again communicate with 
 others of diminished size and increased depth, till 
 the water is spread over the surface by ten thou- 
 sand ramifications, and distributed in equal propor- 
 tions to every field and every bed. Every spot of 
 ground was devoted either to grain or to vines ; and 
 the improved mode of training the trees corrres- 
 ponded with the system of ingenious and persevering 
 agriculture, so strikingly seen in every thing else. The 
 number of branches was greater than in those men- 
 tioned before, usually from twelve to fifteen, and they 
 were shaped with more care and into a hemisphere of 
 double the size. Besides, a single bough is allowed to 
 grow to its full length, and led round the outside of the 
 rest, to keep them in their places, and not unfrequently 
 
 48 
 
3?g toAD to FLORENCE. 
 
 bound to them till an union is formed by growing, and 
 withes are no more necessary. By this process a con- 
 venient support is presented the branches of the vine; 
 and to the eye, a specimen of living basket-work of a 
 most ingenious construction. It is difficult to describe 
 the pleasure we felt at this sight, succeeding, at so 
 short a distance of time, the Roman Campagna and 
 the Pomptine Marshes, and holding up so fair a pro- 
 mise of a superior state of society. 
 
 At the end of the plain the road ascended a steep 
 hill by a zigzag course, and as we were walking up, 
 we met a long line of wagons loaded with provisions 
 for the Austrian army. Our carriage came up very 
 slowly, though the mules were assisted by two oxen, so 
 that we had time to get a little coffee at a village, and 
 to examine a ruinous square tower on the summit, 
 which commands a fine view of the plain we had 
 passed, and of two or three vallies on the other side. 
 The tops of the hills were covered with olives, while 
 their sides were terraced for the cultivation of vines, 
 here trained on sticks, so that the sun gave a very 
 agreeable variety to the view, by shining bright on 
 some, and throwing others into the shade. The wea- 
 ther was clear and warm, and the air possessed that 
 exhilirating freshness peculiar in our own climate to 
 the first pleasant days of spring. 
 
 From this elevation the road wound down among 
 the dark hills, and in a quarter of an hour brought us 
 to the shore of Lake Thrasymenus, now called the 
 Lake of Perugia. It is a beautiful sheet of water four 
 or five miles broad, twelve or fifteen long, and sur- 
 rounded with high, irregular hills. There are several 
 little capes running out on both sides, some of which 
 terminate with a white village or an old tower, and 
 others are covered with natural forest trees, without 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 379 
 
 any signs of cultivation or inhabitants. The road ran 
 along the very margin of the water, and near three or 
 four houses which we passed, where some women were 
 washing, was a rude boat, with a bow running up high 
 and carved; and 1 observed several eel-pots of wicker- 
 work, made on the same plan with those they use in 
 the rivers and brooks of New England. 
 
 As we rode along we became quite delighted with 
 the changing scene under our eyes. The three islands 
 of the lake, Maggiore, Minore, and Pulves, gradually 
 opened more distinctly to view, though their ej^tremi- 
 ties as well as the other distant points seemed to stand 
 out of the lake, which lay still and smooth under a 
 serene sky and a bright sun. A beautiful little valley 
 on the right which wound among the hills, was irriga^ 
 ted and covered with a grove of vineyards ; and soon 
 after passing it we reached Pasignano del Lago, a 
 wretched stone village, which at a distance had so 
 deceived our eyes. A line of baggage wagons had 
 just reached the other end of the narrow street, for 
 there was but one, and we were ordered to stop till 
 they should all pass. An old officer, however, was so 
 good as to order a halt, and let us go by first. The 
 retrospect of this town is picturesque. 
 
 Two or three miles beyond, we stopped at the 
 Pope's Custom House, where is also a post-house. The 
 inhabitants looked remarkably pale, for the whole 
 neighbourhood of the lake is infected with an un- 
 healthy atmosphere from the water ; and to the malaria 
 is to be attributed the depopulation of these delightful 
 shores. The windows of the Custom House command 
 an uninterrupted view of the lake. One of the islands 
 i« in the foreground ; beyond, the water winds around 
 several green points, then rise ridges of hills and 
 mountains^ covered with w ood and growing of a paler 
 and paler blue as they retire. 
 
380 nOAT> TO FLORENCE. 
 
 When Hannibal, after the battle of Cannae, was 
 marching towards Rome, the Consul Flaminius was 
 hastily dispatched to oppose him, and the two armies 
 met at Lake Thrasjmenus. A terrible battle was 
 fought at a defile through which the Carthaginians 
 were obliged to pdss, and both parties are said to have 
 engaged with s6 much ardour, that not a soldier in 
 either army was sensible of a violent earthquake which 
 happened during the time. The Romans however 
 were finally defeated with great slaughter, and left the 
 whole country open to Hannibal. We were told here 
 that the battle ground was at a place called Sangui- 
 netta,about two miles distant ; and as the mules had not 
 yet eaten their allowance I set off to find it with one 
 of my friends. 
 
 We walked a mile along the road and then turned 
 off to cross a narrow plain towards the hills. The 
 ground is much channelled by torrents whose beds 
 were now dry, and we passed by turns through vine- 
 yards, wheat-fields, pasture-grounds, and neglected 
 fields overgrown with shrubs and trees. We in- 
 quired of a vinedresser and afterwards of two boys, 
 and then of a shepherdess and her son. They knew 
 nothing of " the old field of battle," but directed us 
 to " Sanguinetta," a spot on the ascent of the hilly 
 ridge before us, where we saw two or three houses. 
 On a piece of waste ground we saw an old woman 
 driving an ass, and hastened to overtake her, but she 
 happened to look back and seeing two men in foreign 
 dresses following her, (Austrians of course,) though a 
 quarter of a mile off, she took to her wooden shoes and 
 ran away with all her might. We overtook her how- 
 ever in spite of her exertions and our own disposition to 
 laugh, and showed our intentions were pacific by ask- 
 ing where was Sanguinetta. She was going there — 
 it was just beyond — there had been a great battle 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 33 j 
 
 there at some period long past, but so long ago, that 
 she could not remember any thing about it though she 
 was seventy yes^rs old ! 
 
 We inquired of a man at one of the houses if that 
 were the field of battle: " Yes," he said, '' and the place 
 where you stand was the great grave where the dead 
 were interred." Much to our surprise we now ob- 
 served bits of bones mixed with the soil ; and on 
 scraping a little with a stick, we dug up pieces of 
 human skulls and a jaw with a row of fine teeth. 
 The poor man and his whole family seemed much in- 
 terested in our researches, and declared that though 
 the earth had been removed from that place to the 
 depth of three feet, the quantity of bones was still 
 very great. "There has been a great butchery here," 
 remarked the man, " though nobody can tell how long 
 ago — here was some battle ground, for these are all the 
 bones of Christians^ He declared that a few things 
 of some value had been found, and that he had dug 
 up a glass flask among the bones several months before, 
 but he chose to reply in general terms to our questions 
 on this subject. 
 
 It is impossible to find any thing like the pass 
 through the mountains which the consul is said to have 
 seized. Sanguinetta is on the side of a mountainous 
 ridge which borders the lake for many miles, and pre- 
 sents no other irregularity than a few gentle undula- 
 tions. It is possible, indeed it is very probable, that 
 the road might formerly have crossed the hills just be- 
 hind this place, where is one of those slight undula- 
 tions above-mentioned, and which, though it is not 
 worthy even of the name of a notch, might have been 
 described by an historian as a deep ravine: for histo- 
 rians have not always been careful enough even on 
 more important subjects. The present road keeps 
 
382 ^OAD TO FLORENCE. 
 
 nearer the lake, and crosses the high ground not more 
 than a mile distant from Sanguinetta ; jet, such is the 
 nature of the country, that route is little better on any 
 account than what we marked out for the ancient one. 
 In one particular it certainly could not be superior : the 
 view of the water, the islands and the surrounding hills, 
 was here much more beautiful than we could have ex- 
 pected to find it, from any point whatever. The islands 
 in front, and behind them the hills with retiring ridges, 
 were thrown together as an artist would have wished 
 them, to show the utmost variety of which their va- 
 ried lines were capable. The profiles of two neigh- 
 bouring hills never disgusted the eye with meagre 
 parallels; but if one sloped smoothly to the water, 
 the other presented a graceful undulation, which at 
 length perhaps subsided almost to a plain, and then, 
 disappearing behind a hill of a new form, wound away 
 among unknown vallies. Broad sheets of water and 
 the sweeping turns of little inlets — nay, the trees, the 
 shrubs, with the old cottage or tower which they 
 sometimes nearly concealed — all were arranged in 
 such a manner as to increase the beauty of the scene, 
 which lay spread out in the light of a clear and serene 
 sky. It may easily be imagined that the story we had 
 heard from the old man and his family was calculated 
 to excite in our minds a peculiar interest for the spot. 
 There was no objection to our considering this the 
 ancient battle ground. If it be impossible that a lime- 
 stone soil should preserve human bones for such a 
 length of time, (for it is no less than two thousand and 
 thirty-eight years since the battle of Lake Thrasyme- 
 nus,) possibly these bones may have been left on the 
 same spot in some more modern war. Tradition tells us 
 that here the Romans suffered that defeat which spread 
 such a panic through the city — that here, in this silent 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 3{^3 
 
 and secluded spot, and in sight of this charming land- 
 scape, the wonderful Carthaginian performed one of 
 those great deeds which spread the terror of him 
 through all Italy, and made him in the words of 
 Horace, 
 
 " Parentibus abominatus Annibal." 
 
 Sanguinetta is very rarely visited by travellers, if we 
 fiiay believe the man, when he declared there had been 
 no strangers there for a long time, except a lady and her 
 son, who he believed were Austrians. But an indu- 
 bitable proof that his assertion was true, is that they 
 were all confounded and ifiquired what we meant 
 when we put some money into the hand of the boy, 
 and were quite surprised that we should think of 
 giving him any thing for digging up the ground. 
 
 We found our way back to the " master-road," as they 
 called the highway in contradistinction to the mule- 
 tracks and footpaths with which the fields were tra- 
 versed in every direction ; and from the hill took leave 
 of Lake Thrasymenus and began to descend upon 
 a valley covered with vineyards. Among the olive 
 groves of the surrounding hills white houses were 
 thinly scattered, and just at their feet ran our road 
 with many windings, and at length crossed a little 
 brook just when the calcareous soil gives place to 
 rocks of beautiful free stone. " We are in Tuscany !" 
 cried the old farmer with a hearty smile : and when 
 the vettura had passed the bridge, Vicenzo exclaimed 
 with his natural enthusiasm, " We are in Tuscany !" 
 and as the most natural mode for a coachman to ex- 
 press the warmth of his feelings, he gave his mules 
 severally a biting switch, and got the whole equipage 
 into a quick motion correspondent with the joyful 
 beatings of his heart. 
 
384 ROAD TO FLORENCE. 
 
 A short ride brought us to Assaia, a small towtl 
 where is the Custom House of the Grand Duke, and 
 where half our party set off on foot to go to Corto- 
 na, a city we saw before us on the top of a high and 
 rounded hill, three miles off This hill rises from the 
 bosom of a plain eight or ten miles in extent, where 
 the soil was principally devoted to vineyards, so that 
 the situation of Cortona, (the ancient Corytum,) was 
 remarkably singular and beautiful. Alessandro, the 
 handsome young advocate, was induced to undertake 
 the laborious excursion by a taste fur antiques which 
 he had cultivated during his residence in Rome ; and 
 the Bolognese householder we judged was impelled 
 by a strong sense of religious obligations — for to do 
 him justice, he manifests on every occasion the most 
 sincere regard to the creed and the practice enjoined 
 by the Pope and his priests. He pointed out to us 
 a large church on the very summit of the hill, as that 
 of Santa Margaretta, filled with magnificent chapels 
 and countless wealth, highly esteemed as a place of 
 great sanctity and the resort of many pilgrims. " He 
 is enthusiastic," whispered Alessandro, " and thinks 
 this church finer than St. Peter's I dare say, because 
 it is in Tuscany. But we shall find objects of more 
 interest while he goes to return thanks to the saint, 
 as I have little doubt it is his object to do. Then we 
 shall see the ancient marble quarries, the remains of 
 the Baths of Corytum, and the Temple of Bacchus." 
 To these he would have added, if he had looked into 
 a book of the roads, the Etruscan Academy which 
 contains a good museum and library, as well as several 
 private libraries and cabinets worthy of attention, for 
 here, as in many other cities of Italy, all medals, speci- 
 mens of sculpture, inscriptions, &c. found in the neigh- 
 bourhood, are collected and arranged. 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 385 
 
 The height we had to ascend was so great, that we 
 were weary long before we had attained it, and often 
 paused to recover breath and to look upon the exten- 
 sive and fertile valley below, which was seen reaching 
 out several miles to the south and the west, covered 
 with trained trees and vines, spotted here and there 
 with white buildings, and partly shaded by the broken 
 clouds which surrounded the sun, now setting, and 
 partly illuminated by the strong light which streamed 
 through their folds. 
 
 Cortona may contain six or seven thousand inhabi- 
 tants, and presented several broad streets, well paved 
 with large stones, and lined with fine houses and pa- 
 laces, surprising us with an unusual air of convenience 
 and comfort. Instead of narrow lanes, dirty pave- 
 ments, and a new sight of disorder and beggary at 
 every step, the smooth stones under our feet seemed 
 to have been just washed clean, the inhabitants were 
 well dressed, some returning from a promenade, others 
 standing at the doors of well arranged shops, which 
 occupied the basement story of large houses, and were 
 supplied with a thousand articles of finery and luxury, 
 notwithstanding the difficulty of raising them to^such 
 a height. The church of Sta. Margaretta was still at 
 no inconsiderable distance above us, so that we were 
 forced to return for fear lest the vettura should leave 
 us behind, as the " master road" coasts along at the 
 bottom of the hill; though the old man urged us ex- 
 tremely, and the bells seemed to invite us by ringing a 
 loud peal. Alessandro longed for a sight of the anti- 
 quities, but darkness was fast spreading over the val- 
 ley, and we all descended in headlong haste to over- 
 take Vicenzo, and our companions. 
 
 An hour's ride brought us to the village of Cas- 
 tiglione, when two tall, sedate young women opened 
 
 49 
 
336 ROAD TO FLORENCE. 
 
 the door, and with an odd mixture of pride and obse- 
 quiousness handed us out, and led the way to the 
 dining-room in silent dignity. They seemed of a 
 new race, with their tall, slender forms, prompt, deci- 
 ded manners, and black beaver hats ; and when they 
 opened their mouths to inquire if we wanted fire, (the 
 first time, by the way, we had been offered it in an 
 ItaHan inn,) they spoke as rough as Austrians, and 
 aspirated every hard c^ and every ^w, as if ihey would 
 have choked. To preserve a keeping with the plain 
 neatness of every thing, the table was spread with a 
 clean cloth, and Vicenzo, with a triumphant look, took 
 his seat at the head. " Gentlemen," said he, in his 
 harsh dialect, " I promised to show you something of 
 Tuscany this evening, and here is certainly a supper 
 better than the goat we had at Nepi ;" — and he shut 
 his eyes and laughed so heartily that he did not at 
 first perceive a flask of good wine which had been set 
 at his elbow. " Ah ! here is some of our wine. Gen- 
 tlemen please to taste that, and allow that Tuscany is 
 the country of good suppers, good wine, and hand- 
 some women." This sentence he concluded with a 
 low bow to the innkeeper's daughters, who were in 
 attendance : but they took the compliment coolly, like 
 waiting gentlewoman, and with an appearance of edu- 
 cation and modesty which we welcomed from our 
 hearts. j|| 
 
 Our meal was excellent; and after it was finished a 
 still better sort of wine was produced, yet with such 
 an air that we were convinced our fare was not supe- 
 rior to that all travellers might expect at this place. 
 A little excited by the unexpected excellence of our 
 cheer, Alessandro undertook to question the farmer 
 concerning the grounds of his faith in the miracles 
 of Saint Margaret, and in some of the leading doc- 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 337 
 
 trines of the Catholic religion. The fluent tongue of 
 the student soon gained the ascendancy, as might 
 have been expected, for, though he knew little of the 
 subject, and cared still less, he was deeply studied in 
 the disputing art; while his antagonist, although he ha- 
 bitually regulated his life by the system, seemed to be 
 more and more sensible every moment that he was 
 losing his cause through his incapacity to express 
 what he felt : he had taken a side however, which 
 greater men than he have sometimes been unable to 
 support; and after saying to no effect "Every one has 
 his own faith !" resorted to one of their strong holds 
 in which he had much confidence — the power delega- 
 ted to St. Peter " in the Bible." " But in what part of 
 the Bible," inquired Alessandro, " is St. Peter autho- 
 rized to transfer that power to popes, and to give 
 away the keys of hell and of death ?" " Al letto !" 
 [to bed,] cried the nonplussed old man ; and starting 
 up seized a candle and disappeared for the night. 
 
 But the young advocate was not yet satisfied. He 
 had already shown us much respect, because he had 
 heard of the republic of the United States, and be- 
 cause we had been born and educated in a country of 
 more freedom than he or his fathers had ever seen, 
 though he had most imperfect and indefinite notions 
 concerning it; and had gone as far as he dared, to con- 
 vince us that his spirit was not altogether unworthy of 
 America. Now he had passed the boundaries of the 
 Pope's dominions, and evidently felt an unwonted se- 
 curity in giving loose to the warmest expression of his 
 feelings. " We have now quitted," said he, " the most 
 abject nation in Europe, and the territory of the most 
 pitiful prince. The Neapolitans, so long and so justly 
 despised, even the Neapohtans show themselves far 
 superior to the Romans, by the value they set on 
 
38B J^OAD TO FLORENCE. 
 
 liberty, and the noble exertions they are making to 
 obtain it. But the Romans — you must have noticed 
 the narrowness of their minds — every body north of 
 Ponte Molle they call a barbarian, and it has been most 
 justly said that they have lost all the virtues of their 
 ancestors and retained only their prejudices. They 
 boast of the greatness of the ancients ; they are so 
 full of it that they pretend to none of their ovrn, and 
 certainly they are wise in that. But see the incon- 
 sistency of these cowards. While they revere the an- 
 cients, and would fain trace to them their genealogy, 
 they can live beside the Neapolitans and fear to follow 
 the example they are setting them, so much in the 
 spirit of old Rome, for fear of forfeiting the blessing 
 of their good old papa,^ And their conduct is the 
 more base when we consider the extensive effects it 
 is likely to produce. It is of the utmost importance 
 to all Europe, that Naples should establish her own 
 independence : for the eyes both of nations and of 
 kings are upon her, and the event of this enterprise 
 will affect the whole continent. If she is successful 
 it will weaken the hands of monarchs, and encourage 
 subjects to wrest the power from their grasp : if she 
 is overwhelmed by the power of Austria, kings will 
 become more jealous and watchful, and the situation 
 of nations more abject and hopeless. This year Eu- 
 rope will advance or retrograde a whole century — 
 Good night, gentlemen !" 
 
 JVear Arezzo, March 4, (at noon,) — Last night I slept 
 with a crucifix and a fount for holy water at my bed's 
 head — an intimation, though a solitary one, that there 
 is more religion as well as more comfort in Tuscany. 
 The morning was cloudy and warm, and we travelled 
 
 * An Italian trord meaning both father and pope. 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 3(j9 
 
 among green hills scattered with larger and better 
 houses, some of which had been built within two or 
 three years, and were therefore specimens of improve- 
 ment and enterprise we had long forgotten. Parties of 
 peasants occasionally met us going to mass, for it is Sun- 
 day, the women with white aprons, white cloths on their 
 heads, and yellow and white ribbons tied about their 
 shoulders. They had also quite discarded the red sto- 
 machers worn in the neighbourhood of Rome, and had, 
 I fancied, an unwonted air of independence in their 
 motions. The men too struck me as remarkably tall, 
 hard favoured and raw-boned, and are certainly de- 
 scended from some race with which our eyes are not 
 familiar. Two or three of the women wore narrow- 
 brimmed " Leghorn" hats, though this is not the sea- 
 son for them, and thus reminded me of our approach 
 to the river Arno. 
 
 While I am now writing in the carriage, an old man is 
 besetting us for " carita," [charity,] which, according to 
 the dialect of the country, he pronounces as if in place 
 of the c, the word commenced with three our tour h's. 
 Our companion of the mountains, having already 
 pointed at an immense loaf of bread a woman was 
 carrying by, to show us the abundance which reigns 
 in Tuscany, desires us to observe also that this is the 
 first beggar we have seen since we left the Roman ter- 
 ritory, and that he is well dressed, and certainly not 
 extravagant in his petitions, as he only asks for a 
 " quattrino." 
 
 Many of the farm-houses we passed this morning 
 denoted an improved state of husbandry, by their 
 size and neatness, (being usually whitewashed,) the 
 plenty of implements, and the good order and abun- 
 dance which seemed to reign in the barn yards. The 
 marks of the army were often visible, in trampled 
 
390 I^^^^I^ TO FLORENCE. 
 
 wheat-fields, broken roads, and demolished stacks of 
 ha J and straw. These last are formed exactly as in 
 America. 
 
 The whole ride of this morning has been remark- 
 ably pleasant, though without much variety. The 
 scene has been shut in by high, olive-covered hills, 
 but the road by winding through the smooth vallies 
 preserved an unbroken level. These vallies are 
 as usual occupied wilh grain and vines ; and the Val- 
 ley of Arezzo, on which we have now entered, pre- 
 sents very nearly the same appearance, except that it 
 is far more extensive and cultivated in much larger 
 fields. Having regaled ourselves with a slight repast 
 at this inn, we have determined to proceed on foot to 
 Arezzo, which is in full view on a hill about a mile be- 
 fore us, while the mules are feeding. 
 
 During our morning's ride the old Bolognese amused 
 me not a little by the enthusiastic praises he bestowed 
 on the countries we were approaching, and the des- 
 cription he gave of the manner of living in his native 
 mountains. The people subsist principally on ches- 
 nuts, which grow in great abundance, and are made into 
 a kind of bread. " We like it," remarked the old man, 
 " as we do the mountains among which we live, though 
 strangers consider them dreary and uncomfortable 
 abodes.^ The country being fertile in grass, great 
 numbers of cattle are raised there, which feed during 
 a part of the year on the plains and marshes. In the 
 winter the inhabitants, and particularly the younger 
 part of them, contrive to make the time pass oflT with 
 gaiety by such harmless amusements as are within 
 their reach, among which are music and dances. On 
 the whole the recollections of his country are cer- 
 tainly very agreeable to the old man; and together 
 with his sober, and honest, downright manners, made 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 39 1 
 
 me imagine his good wife, in her Appennine abode, 
 thinking " there is na' luck about the house," in Italian, 
 and a set of young mountaineers, longing for the news 
 of his return, and the simple toys he doubtless has in 
 his travellers' bag. He however, even he, complains of 
 the injustice and violence of Napoleon ! The monas- 
 teries among the mountains, though often situated in 
 the most secluded places, were all discovered and pil- 
 laged, if not suppressed, by the French. To a plain 
 man, who, like him, maintains an unshaken confidence 
 in the Romish religion, and regards every priest he 
 sees as a man regularly commissioned from on High 
 to take the spiritual care of others, and to translate to 
 them the hidden language of the Scriptures, it may 
 well be supposed deeds like these must appear sacri- 
 legious. He laments them as causing the ruin of the 
 only schools for the education of the poor, and the 
 only asylums for the sick and the unhappy : as throw- 
 ing a disgrace on his religion, and turning upon the 
 wide world those who had sought refuge from its 
 temptations in their cloisters. 
 
 Monte Varchi, at evening. — The principal street of 
 Arezzois a very agreeable one for a town of no great 
 size, being broad, clean and well built. There is a 
 small church built perfectly plain in front, but so 
 painted that we at first thought it had a handsome 
 piazza : a miserable substitute indeed for the rich 
 ornaments and marble columns thus represented with 
 mean economy. In the streets we met numbers of peo- 
 ple ; among others, peasant-women, with round black 
 hats, and the wives and daughters of citizens, whose 
 appearance was strikingly different from that of the 
 Roman and Neapolitan females. They were tall, 
 slender, well formed, dressed with neatness and taste; 
 with agreeable faces, in which red cheeks and black 
 
392 IiOAT> TO FLORENCE. 
 
 eyes were the most striking features, as intelligence 
 and unaffected modesty — nay bashfulness — were the 
 first characteristics of their manners. 
 
 We gained admittance into a nunnery yard, to see 
 the remains of an ancient Roman amphitheatre. No- 
 thing is now left of it except a semicircular row of dila- 
 pidated brick arches, which were scattered with straw : 
 the place having been lately devoted to the stabling of 
 some Austrian horses, as the cells of the adjoining 
 nunnery, long since deserted, furnished lodging rooms 
 to the dragoons. On the top of the hill and near the 
 centre of the town stands a half demolished castle, 
 the cathedral or Duomo, and a plaster statue of Pe- 
 trarch. I remarked that the old man who volun- 
 teered to show us the most interesting objects in 
 the city, called him " nostro Petrarcha," [our Pe- 
 trarch.] 
 
 I walked on three or four miles across the plain, 
 before the vettura came up, and took great delight in 
 the luxuriant wheat fields on both sides, which from 
 their size and richness seemed able to supply a far 
 greater population with abundance of food. Parties 
 of peasants were returning from the town, whose florid 
 faces and sprightly motions spoke in the plainest lan- 
 guage the abundance and healthiness of their country. 
 Their habitations were the small whitewashed cot- 
 tages scattered all over the plain ; while the abodes 
 of the landholders, and the great receptacles of the 
 produce of the soil were seen in the occasional clus- 
 ters of large barns, and spacious dwellings at a con- 
 siderable distance. Several brooks crossed the road 
 under fine bridges of hewn stone, whose arches are 
 now greatly disproportioned to the quantity of water. 
 At some seasons however, the streams are swelled to 
 a dangerous current and are hardly prevented from 
 
ROAD TO F^ORfiNCE. 393 
 
 tearing away the banks, bj strong abutments of square 
 stones. 
 
 At length the road rose, by a very slight ascent, to 
 a level a little higher than the plain, and showed a 
 surface, which though originally smooth, was broken 
 by channels where streams seemed to have torn away 
 the soil, as if to deposit it upon that we had just left. 
 The soil that remained was evidently poor and fast de- 
 teriorating, so that the buildings were fewer, and de- 
 generated first to cottages, then to hovels, and finally al- 
 most entirely disappeared. All signs of cultivation at 
 length gave place to a dry, brown surface occasionally 
 interrupted by ledges of slaty rocks, bare sand hills, 
 and a few shrub oaks. 
 
 When the two young Italians came up, they regret- 
 ted we had not been with them to see a singular 
 spring, to which a peasant had just directed them. 
 For he told them that it was always fatal to small 
 animals that approached it to drink ; and they actu- 
 ally found two dead birds on the shore. Alessandro 
 has no doubt that it is the place of an extinguished 
 volcano. 
 
 As we entered the dark stone gate of Monte Varchi 
 the street before us was crowded with a gay throng of 
 people just finishing their promenade. From the dress 
 and carriage of many of the ladies, it was evident in a 
 moment that there was no scarcity of intelligence and 
 taste ; and we hardly saw a single female who was not 
 tall, graceful and handsome. Several of our party ex- 
 claimed that they had never seen so large a share of 
 beauty in any other place ; and one of them, who had 
 before expressed the most perfect aversion to the 
 round black hats and feathers, here the universal head^ 
 dress, now made a free and full recantation of his 
 error. There must have been eomethii^g peculiarly 
 
 50 
 
394 ROAD TO FLORENCE. 
 
 striking in this scene; for this same friend and coun- 
 trjman, who has rarely before spoken of the Italian 
 fair, except to compare them with some of his trans- 
 atlantic recollections, was soon found in the street, 
 gazing with undisguised enthusiasm. 
 
 Monte Yakcu^ March 5th^ at 5 in the morning. — After 
 supper last evening we attended a mask ball in the 
 town, which was held in the theatre. We were ad- 
 mitted for a small price, about fifteen cents ; and as 
 the same passage led to the galleries, boxes and pit, 
 we could range about as we chose, but soon found that 
 every seat was private and under a private lock, so 
 that we were forced to remain standing among the 
 dancers in the pit. And here was a motley company 
 indeed, which when our party came in, seemed a jum- 
 ble of all possible characters. The masks were a 
 repetition of the unmeaning personages we had lately 
 seen in Rome, with two or three harlequins, a number 
 of dominos and a few of both sexes in plain dancing 
 dresses. Our surprise was not a littfe excited by an 
 Jlmerican savage^ who wore a close suit of linen instead 
 of a blanket, and yellow boots for moccasins. He 
 thought he played the savage to admiration, with his 
 little wooden arrows and florid Grecian mask; but he 
 was more in danger of being tak.en for a full grown 
 Cupid, than for a Mohawk of any age or condition. 
 Jlowever, we were not in the mood to quarrel with 
 him for not knowing as much as we did, particularly 
 as he seemed to shrink from our presence after Ales- 
 sandro had circulated a whisper that the gentlemen in 
 the corner were Americans. 
 
 The reigning spirit of this cheerful party, was a 
 young orphan girl from the neighbouring valley, who 
 appeared with all the attractions of a light graceful 
 form, a beautiful, smiling countenance, and an air of 
 
ROAD TO FLORENCE. 395 
 
 bashful modesty, the crown of all. She was plainly 
 confessed the queen of the place, and received that 
 cordial but silent homage, which an hereditary prin- 
 cess cannot always command. There were no striking 
 Italian traits in her countenance, and indeed so far was 
 it from the brunette aspect of most of her associates, 
 that her fine blue eyes, her amiable and feminine, rather 
 than beautiful features, accompanied with her modest 
 mien, would have given her a free pass in any of our 
 own villages, for one of the prettiest country girls. 
 If there be any curiosity to know the style of dress at 
 such a place as Monte Vaichi, the following descrip- 
 tion may be relied on ; for Mr. , by whom it is fur- 
 nished, passes among us as very good authority in 
 matters of taste. 
 
 " The dress of the young orphan girl I pointed out 
 to you, was a thin muslin over buff, with a bright scar- 
 let stomacher, like those we used to see in Rome 
 among the Trasteverine, but smaller ; a worked col- 
 laret falling upon the shoulders ; a necklace of red 
 glass, (for her marriage portion is said to be no less 
 than a thousand scudi, or dollars ;) and over her hair, 
 which was abundant and dark, a garland of roses, 
 which appeared like natural ones." 
 
 Masks were never made for faces like hers, and she 
 had " the gift to know it ;" though her manners spoke no 
 consciousness of beauty, while she gaily threaded the 
 mazes of the dance, and the notes of the music seem- 
 ed to accompany her steps for their own delight. Not- 
 withstanding the urbanity with which the amusements 
 of the evening were conducted, Alessandro told me 
 that not a single person present belonged to the 
 higher class of society ; and was nearly as much sur- 
 prised as ourselves, to find such polished manners cur- 
 rent among the children of middling citizens and 
 peasants. 
 
396 nbAU TO pLORENCE. 
 
 I forgot the fatigue of the day in silently beholding 
 the happiness of these gay groups, and hardly thought 
 of retiring till I heard a young man announce a rainy 
 night to some of his friends. " Piove ! piove !" [It 
 rains, it rains,] was immediately echoed in very melan- 
 choly ^ones by all the neighbourhood of masks and 
 dominos. Our inn was not found without difficulty in 
 the dark, and it required much hard knocking to wake 
 an old woman, who I believe was not only asleep but 
 deaf also, and who at length thrust her grey head out 
 at a little hole above, and positively refused to admit 
 me. I told her f had supped in the house and was a 
 passenger in the vettura, taking care to aspirate every 
 ch and qu as violently as possible ; and she at last clat- 
 tered down stairs. But the door was hardly open, 
 when a noise was heard in the street, and some Aus- 
 trian soldiers made their appearance, with mustachios 
 and bright gun-barrels, crying " acqua ! acqua ! [water, 
 water,] for they had been unable to get a drop to 
 drink upon the road at that late hour, and came pour- 
 ing in to find the well, to the number of Miy. This 
 forced hospitality was so little to the mind of my 
 hostess, that she muttered many bitter wishes on all 
 strangers without distinction, while 1 hastened to my 
 chamber, already occupied by my five fellow-travel- 
 lers, and threw myself on the very poorest bed 1 have 
 seen in Italy. 
 
 It is now about daybreak, and we are still waiting 
 for our temporizing coachman and his perverse mules. 
 We are told that a large body of troops are expected 
 to-day; and that, if we take the road in season, we 
 may pass them before they begin their march. 
 
 Piano della Fonte, 10 A. M. — We have come 
 about twelve miles, the first part of which lay along 
 the edge of a valley two miles in breadth, broken by 
 innumerable hills, flat on the top, and divided by 
 
ROAD TO FJLORENCE. 397 
 
 ravines two hundred feet deep. This is evidently the 
 ruins of an old plain, originally formed by soil washed 
 down from the surrounding mountains, and afterwards, 
 by some unaccountable change, cut in pieces and half 
 ruined. 
 
 Our inn had promised us much comfort and honesty 
 at our first entrance; for the great room has a fire- 
 place, its walls are painted with birds and flower-pots, 
 the beaufet has an open-work door, through which the 
 tea-cups and saucers, with the other apparatus of the 
 great permanent table, are ranged in careful order, 
 and the chairs have straight backs and rush-bottoms. 
 My companions, however, have been presented with a 
 most unreasonable bill, after a slight repast, and feel 
 like cheated travellers. The young advocate, like a 
 true scholar as he is, sought relief for his spleen in 
 writing with his pencjl this satirical couplet on the 
 wall— 
 
 " Mira il quadro, rnira la pittxira — 
 L'oste '16 gran ladro di natura." 
 
 which may mean, either that the host has robbed nature 
 in decorating his walls, or, that he is a born thief. On 
 a more close examination it was discovered, when too 
 late, that many travellers had left similar memorials, 
 of previous instances of extortion ; so that the leaves 
 of non-descript flowers, and the breath of gaudy birds, 
 were alike occupied with warnings and protests, in 
 English, French, and Italian, together with several in 
 Dutch and German, which, though uniritelligible to us, 
 «o abounded in outrageous orthography, that we were 
 willing to lend them our sympathy on trust. 
 
 As we proceeded on our way, the hills, which be- 
 fore had been entirely barren, began to be planted 
 with olive trees, whose thick, evergreen foliage, is pe- 
 
39JI flOAD TO FLORENCE. 
 
 culiarly grateful to the eye at this season of the year. 
 By degrees the soil increased in depth, until fertility 
 became the predominating feature; and at last the un- 
 dulating surface was covered with olives, and afforded 
 a prospect, from e\evy little eminence, like our Ame- 
 rican woods in June. The I'nscan farmer regretted 
 the unpleasant weather: for the sky was cloudy, and 
 threatened rain. He had hoped to show us the valley 
 of the " Arne" under more favourable circumstances. 
 
 Neat white houses, built of stone and plastered all 
 over, had now become very frequent; the ground be* 
 gan to be enclosed here and there with stone walls, 
 for vineyards and gardens, and we often passed beau- 
 tiful villas, the access to which was by smooth gravel 
 walks, bordered with flowers, or shady paths winding 
 among thick shrubs and dai*k trees. The clouds at 
 length broke away ; and having reached the top of a 
 hill, we looked between two mouDtains upon an exten- 
 sive tract of level country ; where every thing at first 
 looked indistinct, on account of the strong lights and 
 shades with which it was mottled. The nearer part 
 of it was cultivated, with all the regularity and heauty 
 of the valley of Arezzo. The outline of a large city, 
 with domes and towers, was seen at the distance of a 
 few miles, darkened by the shade of a cloud ; and the 
 level surface spread out beyond, every where dotted 
 with vineyards, till it was lost in the immense dis- 
 tance, and could no longer be distinguished. Moun- 
 tains dimly bouiided the plain ; and among the green 
 of olive trees with which they were enveloped, showed 
 a thousand white houses and villas, some of which 
 were shining bright in the sun, but appeared fainter 
 and fainter at each succeeding hill, which stretched 
 out upon the valley of the Arno like the bold capes of 
 some verdant coast encroaching upon the level sur- 
 
FLORENCE. 3^9 
 
 face of the ocean. " Ecco Firenza !" (instead of Fi- 
 renze,) " There is Florence !" exclaimed the old Tus- 
 can farmer, with as much enthusiasm as if he had been 
 monarch of the country ; and I could no longer doubt 
 the poverty of ray imagination, in its attempt to pitch 
 the scene on a scale of appropriate magnificence. 
 
 Houses, gardens and villas, passed in rapid succes- 
 sion, (considering the moderate pace of our mules,) 
 and when we had descended upon the plain, and had 
 almost reached Florence, we overtook groups of pea- 
 sants, masked and dressed in the gayest manner; and 
 whole families- — nay, neighbourhoods of little children, 
 hurrying on to the city in high glee, in their holyday 
 clothes, carrying baskets of flowers, and many of them 
 with wreaths of roses in their hair. 
 
 The first sight of Florence was calculated to make 
 an agreeable impression upon us, though the old 
 man declared that we saw the most indifferent en- 
 trance to the city : for the streets were broad, straight, 
 well built, and above all swept very clean, and showed 
 fine smooth pavements very encouraging to habitual 
 pedestrians, who had endured the trials of so many 
 filthy, half-paved streets, in Naples and many parts of 
 Rome. This being the last day but one of the carni- 
 val, we hastened to the streets on the river's bank, 
 where the crowds were collecting. Here were un- 
 known faces, disguised for various objects. Some ex- 
 erted all their talents to excite a laugh, by their feats 
 or their remarks; some had dressed themselves to at- 
 tract attention, others to deceive their friends Here 
 were many of the peasant girls from the neighbouring 
 parts of the valley, wearing black hats and feathers, 
 scarlet stomachers, large ear-rings, and other quaint 
 ornaments, accompanied by their rustic families and 
 friends; and travellers, principally English, walking 
 
400 FLORENCE. 
 
 and staring at the sight like ourselves. Mysterious do- 
 minos were silently stealing about, apparently watch- 
 ing the steps of their suspected friends. The latter 
 dress however is frequently resorted to for mere dis- 
 guise, as was shown particularly by three figures, so 
 enveloped in black dominos that it was impossible to 
 see any thing of their faces or forms. They were con- 
 tinually dancing about, and whenever they recognised 
 an acquaintance, formed a circle around him, with 
 loud cries in voices far above the natural pitch, and, 
 if a mask, make some sign to show he was known, 
 then suddenly scattering left him gazing after them 
 like a statue of doubt. One of this trio was surpri- 
 singly active and graceful, and entered with so much 
 spirit into the amusement, as to make us forget for a 
 moment the disgust caused by the predominating stu- 
 pidity and nonsense of the crowds. At the same time 
 her voice, which was sometimes heard in its natural 
 tones, half reconciled the ear to the harsh and ludi- 
 crous dialect of Tuscany. The display however still 
 seems a ridiculous one. " The Turks say," said my 
 friend P. on the way from Naples to Rome, '^ the 
 Turks say, referring to the carnival, that there is a 
 moon when the Franks are mad." 
 
 Florence, March 5, (noon.) — During a walk this 
 morning, one of those itinerant musicians, who are 
 very common at this season, attracted my notice. He 
 was a sickly, middle-aged man, and in company with 
 his little son was patroling the city, in a coat which 
 spoke but Jittle of the festivities of the carnival, but 
 told long stories of its master's perennial poverty. As 
 I entered a street, 1 heard the sound of his guitar and 
 voice, and found he was pouring the full tide of his 
 song into the ear of a smart shop-keeper, against whose 
 door he had taken his post. As his poetic effusion was 
 
FLORENCE. ^Qj 
 
 fast drawing to a close, the ever- watchful urchin had 
 to perform the grateful task of bearing a small gift t© 
 the ready cap of his father; and this produced an ad- 
 ditional stanza to the smooth little poem, which was 
 appended with no small facility and grace, in the form 
 of an apostrophe. The Christian name of the benefi- 
 cent shop-keeper was introduced, from the sign over 
 his door, and made to fill an important place in the 
 first line, while the two or three remaining ones were 
 neatlj turned with a few common-place encomiums, 
 and followed hard by the impatient and monotonous 
 symphony. 
 
 There is something in the situation of this spot of 
 earth, which gives the people musical hearts and po- 
 etical tongues. While 1 am writing, 1 hear the notes 
 of three different bands, in the full exertion of their 
 skill; yet 1 cannot but pronounce them unvarying and 
 tedious, though I feel that in so doing I contradict my 
 own inclination, which would lead me to like all I see 
 and hear, with the beautiful banks of the Arno under 
 my eye, the gay and exhilarating sight of a collecting 
 masquerade, and a bright Italian sun shining gaily in 
 at my window. How often have I imagined a scene 
 like this, in the midst of such a classic land, with 
 every thing fair and happy around me, where nothing 
 was to be discovered but such things as please the 
 eye and the ear, and nothing obtruded to recal the 
 mind to the unwelcome realities of this unsatisfactory 
 state of existence : when the world seemed enveloped 
 in a new and brilliant mask, without a crevice to 
 betray the real character concealed beneath ; and 
 now, so like my childish dreams does this gay page- 
 antry appear, I often start and ask whether it is true 
 that I am actually awake. Among the staid, mo- 
 derate habits of America, we can hardly convince 
 
 51 
 
402 FLORENCE. 
 
 ourselves that so much of the brilliancy of ancient 
 days still remains in the world ; and could hardly call 
 up such a scene to our imagination without referring 
 it to the pompous days of chivalry and crusades, 
 when — 
 
 " Knig-hts, with a loDg- retinue of their squires, 
 In gaudy livVies, march'd and quaint attires," 
 
 But here this fantastic show seems repeated in all its 
 native extravagance; and I cannot well express what 
 are my feelings when I plunge into the multitude, and 
 find myself surrounded by broad- skirted coats, long 
 waists, and stuffed gowns of dazzling colours and 
 cloth of gold, while every face regards with perfect 
 composure the splendid variety which well nigh drives 
 me mad. This day is to conclude the Carnival, and 
 tp-night is to be held the great ball, which lasts till 
 midnight. 
 
 Florence, March 7. — The display of equipages in 
 the Corso yesterday was very splendid : but such 
 a sight would always disgust me because the object 
 is the gratification of a pitiful vanity, totally undis- 
 guised and unrelieved by any thing more respectable. 
 The procession of carriages and horses, some loaded 
 with vain simperers and others entirely empty, is so 
 perfectly unmeaning: it is neither religious, civil, nor 
 military ; it commemorates nothing ; it refers to no- 
 thing; it has no starting place, and goes lio whither — 
 it is a mere revolution, down the Corso on one side, 
 and up on the other, at the pace of a horse in a mill ; 
 and to me it possesses no small share of the stupidity 
 of such an exhibition. The Duke Borghese, so famous 
 for the number and excellence of his horses, is of 
 course admirably calculated for reaping renown on 
 such an occasion as this, and no less than four of the 
 coaches parading before us were his. It is lamentable 
 
FLORENCE. 
 
 403 
 
 that his weahh and influence should be diverted from 
 their proper course — the improvement of his country — 
 into so selfish and puerile a channel. The money vest- 
 ed in his surplus palaces, casini, pleasure-grounds, 
 horses, carriages, and servants, would endow many a 
 noble institution, in which, if he and the Grand Duke 
 thought proper, the Florentines might soon be taught 
 to despise all this useless ostentation. An Ameri- 
 can is amused with the novelty and splendour of the 
 scene; but it would be as impossible for fiim to enjoy 
 its frequent repetition, as for one of these common 
 Italians to enter into the habits of our country. 
 
 The bank of the Arno, and the adjoining square 
 and corridors of the Public Palace, were crowded to 
 excess with a motley multitude of maskers, from nine 
 o'clock (by our watches four) till late dusk. The 
 same confusion prevailed as yesterday, and the same 
 extravagant but unmeaning scenes were presented, by 
 thousands of beings, most of them ignorant of each 
 other, and all still passing eagerly on with heads as 
 hollow as the masks they wore. There were not 
 wanting some however, who showed a few sparks of 
 humour, and proved that they at least had some ap- 
 prehension of what a masquerade should be. But 
 I will first enumerate the diflerent personages who 
 formed the great mass, and were continually passing 
 before the eye, like the visions of a feverish dream; 
 and then attempt to introduce a few more consistent 
 characters. 
 
 Themajority of the throng was composed of an end- 
 less variety of masks and dominos; and among these 
 mingled, here and there, whole families of hale and 
 laughing peasants from the neighbouring farm-houses: 
 the men usually in short jackets, and the women in round 
 black beaver hats, decorated with sable plumes. One 
 
404 FLORENCE. 
 
 of the most favourite dresses of the young ladies was 
 gay in the extreme, yet often extremely becoming to a 
 small and graceful figure. It was nearly a copy of a 
 dress 1 have already noticed at Rome, and consisted of 
 a short coloured gown, ornamented stockings, wooden 
 shoes, a short stomacher of bright scarlet, a light 
 shawl or handkerchief, long and loose sleeves, rib- 
 bons tied to the shouldeis, the features concealed by 
 a smooth Grecian mask, and the hair beautifully 
 braided with wreaths of flowers. Some of them add- 
 ed white veils, and others long white handkerchiefs 
 fastened over their combs, and falling on the shoul- 
 ders; or a knot of hair was gathered on the top of 
 the head, and two or three silver ribbons, half a yard 
 in length, streamed out in the air. Harlequins, in their 
 parti-coloured suits, were as usual performing their 
 pranks, brandishing their magical wooden swords, and 
 spending as much time as possible off the ground ; while 
 Pucinella, or Punch, with his white gown and sugar- 
 loaf cap, poured out his wit as fluently, and with as 
 much effect, as if he had been still on the stage, and 
 acting on a preconcerted scheme. 
 
 Three men in the antiquated dress of students, went 
 about with huge illuminated volumes pressed under 
 their arms, holding abstruse disquisitions on literary 
 subjects, and frequently stopping to refer to disputed 
 passages, or even to indulge in a brown study, in 
 the very thickest of the crowd, from whom they re- 
 ceived many a rough though undesigned thrust and 
 buffet. Nothing however could avail to discompose 
 the gravity of their faces, and I believe a thunder 
 storm would not have interrupted the thread of their 
 discourse; for the tricks and railleries of Harlequin 
 and Pucinella were entirely wasted on them, al- 
 though they raised shouts for a wide extent around. 
 
FLORENCE. 
 
 405 
 
 Bat even this noisy mirth was occasionally drowned 
 by the notes of four or five musicians, who were con- 
 stantly changing their place, and more than once 
 brushed by this comic party, plying without mercy 
 their jangling strings, in the most savage symphony 1 
 ever heard. Their leader was a tall, ragged person- 
 age, who performed the part of an improvisatore, but 
 in so high a style of burlesque, that I think I can 
 never lose the recollection of his looks and actions. 
 He was painted in such a manner as to give his coun- 
 tenance an expression of the utmost self-complacency, 
 and yet to counteract all the kind designs of nature 
 in rendering it agreeable. These itinerants were en- 
 tirely abstracted from every thing except their own 
 immediate concerns. Whenever they stopped, it was 
 with their faces fixed on their leader; and though in 
 the thickest crowd, paid not the least regard to any 
 thing about them. The poet would sometimes assume 
 the air of one in the highest regions of poetic rapture, 
 looking into some distant cloud, and trilling till he 
 shook in his shoes ; while his concepti ons were often 
 of the most ludicrous kind, and his lines ran on and 
 halted in a style quite irresistible. This seemed to 
 transport his companions, who would gaze upon him in 
 silence through their hideous masks, and then ex- 
 changing looks of approbation, open their throats, and 
 join their hoarse voices in a thundering chorus. 
 
 A mock editor and his wife excited much mirth, by 
 their severe strictures on different works, which I 
 judged to be the current publications of the day. 
 
 These and other parties were sometimes interrupted 
 by a Neapolitan tinker, who would seat himself on the 
 ground near the students, the musicians or the editor, 
 and deliberately set himself to hammer on a noisy old 
 kettle, and to talk in the drawling tones of our old 
 
406 FLORENCE. 
 
 friend Mattia, about the exceptionable circumstances 
 he met with in Florence, and the superior beauties of 
 the baj of Naples, in such a style however as to excite 
 aloud laugh in every Florentine that heard him. 
 
 On one occasion I was nearly overset by three 
 black dominos, who rushing impetuously through the 
 crowd, hastily accosted a tall, raw Enghsh traveller, 
 expressing the most extravagant joy at meeting him, 
 and by their loud, but disguised voices, fixing on him 
 the gaze of all the by standers. The poor stranger 
 stood quite abashed, for he could not comprehend a 
 single word they said, and was bewildered by their 
 volubility, while they joined hands and gaily danced 
 round him, led by the little mysterious spirit of yester- 
 day, who was again on her rambles, and in still higher 
 glee than before. At a signal from her in a sweet lit- 
 tle voice, but in the rough dialect of Tuscaijy, they 
 suddenly broke away, and were instantly lost in the 
 crowd. 
 
 Most ludicrous scenes were often occasioned by the 
 meeting of the students, the author, the improvisa- 
 tore, and numberless other characters who frequently 
 crossed each other's track. Sometimes Pucinella was 
 seen disputing the road with a pompous little perso- 
 nage, in a broad-skirted laced dress, and with all the 
 airs of an ancient gentleman. But the strongest and 
 most unexpected contrasts might be discovered by 
 watching such persons as were returning, or sought an 
 opportunity to adjust their masks, when they consi- 
 dered themselves unnoticed. Here a fair Grecian 
 face might be seen imposed upon a low forehead, 
 a broad month, and perhaps a pug nose; the smooth- 
 ly painted cheek of one who had passed for a beautiful 
 lady, would betray a huge pair of whiskers ; or a visage 
 wrinkled and distorted by antiquity would suddenly 
 
FLORENCE. 407 
 
 give place to a gay young face, whose laughing eyes 
 had long belied the mask. 
 
 The ball in the evening was extremely tedious, 
 though I exerted myself to smile ; I fancied that all 
 around me felt some portion of my indifference, and 
 that their cheerfulness was as much affected as my 
 own. Indeed I cannot easily imagine how it could 
 have been otherwise. Allowing something fascina- 
 ting in the childish sports of a carnival, the confor- 
 mation of the human system will not allow a very 
 long round of this state of enjoyment ; and though the 
 Italian spirits are probably more elastic than mine, yet 
 I think I have seen them sinking under an excess of 
 hilarity. 
 
 The pit was crowded with masked dancers, and the 
 boxes with persons of superior pretensions, some of 
 whom were of high rank Prince Maximilian was there 
 with his three daughters, one of whom is to marry the 
 Grand Duke of Tuscany. Here however were not to 
 be discovered any of those traits of physiognomy 
 which we consider the indications of peculiarly great 
 minds ; and the advocates of the superior blood of 
 princes and nobles would find it difficult to show the 
 proof of it in the head, the eye, or any of the features. 
 Had thf»y, on the contrary, possessed the beauty of 
 
 Signora , an actress who was present, the question 
 
 might have been considered a much clearer one. 
 
 J stepped into the apartments where the mask 
 dresses are kept to let, and I am sure saw some which 
 might have disguised a man from his father and 
 mother. Some of them appeared to have been dis- 
 played on many a masquerade long gone by and for- 
 gotten ; but it served to depreciate the candlelight 
 splendour of the gay dances in the other part of 
 the house to examine these fabrics near at hand, and 
 
408 FLORENCE. 
 
 to hear the prices at which thej were let for the 
 evening. 
 
 I retired long before the assembly dispersed, leaving 
 them to surfeit over the last repast they are to taste 
 for forty days. As if to brave a custom they are yet 
 afraid to transgress, on the last evening of the car- 
 nival suppers are furnished to those who visit the 
 theatre, and are eaten by each party separately in 
 the boxes. At midnight, when they are to move to 
 church to have a handful of dust thrown upon them by 
 the priest, to remind them of their mortality, they have 
 usually prepared themselves, like Captain Dalgetty, 
 with provant for a three days' siege, and thus take care 
 to begin their fast with an abundant banquet. 
 
 To-day the city wore such an appearance of silence 
 and desertion, that it seems to be no longer Florence. 
 The few persons in the streets look as if they could 
 never have seen yesterday, and the burthen of their 
 hearts appears to be a dismal prospect of salt fish for 
 the next six weeks. The Corso is a broad, empty 
 street, and the Lung' Arno is entirely deserted. 
 
 The Museum of Florence contains fine cabinets of 
 all the branches of Natural History, far too large and 
 splendid to be described with any degree of justice 
 even in a large volume. The specimens in the Cabi- 
 net of Anatomy are all of wax, moulded and coloured 
 with the utmost perfection, furnishing students with 
 subjects nearly as just as natural ones, and far more 
 convenient and agreeable. They are not confined to 
 the human frame, but embrace the anatomy of various 
 inferior animals. Preparations of this sort are now to 
 be found in various parts of the world, but Florence 
 is the place where the art began, under a monk of a 
 gloomy character, and whence other countries have 
 been supplied. Some specimens have lately been sent 
 
FLORENCE. 4Q9 
 
 to America, particularly to Cambridge College, to 
 facilitate the study of anatomy. The largest and most 
 complete statues cost seven hundred and fifty zecchini, 
 or dollars, and are packed in such a manner as to be 
 transported in perfect safety. 
 
 But the mind of the inventor of this singular art did 
 not allow him to rest here. As if he had acquired a 
 love for what is revolting to human nature, by a familia- 
 rity with anatomical horrors, he next turned his atten- 
 tion into a still more gloomy channel, viz. to represent 
 in all its stages the progress of the plague, which in the 
 year 1632 ravaged the city of Florence, and destroyed 
 so large a portion of its inhabitants. " The Chamber 
 of the Plague'''^ appeared to me as I entered it much 
 like what my childish imagination used to represent 
 the fatal apartment of Blue Beard, in which he placed 
 the corpses of his murdered wives. The walls were 
 hung with cases containing small waxen figures, only a 
 few inches high, intended to represent the marks of 
 the disease in its various stages; and the work was 
 performed in so masterly a manner as to produce very 
 nearly the same effect on the mind, as if they had been 
 real. Here the object was not, as in the anatomical 
 cabinet, to facilitate the study of an useful science ; 
 but principally, as it would seem, to shock the feelings. 
 One of the groups presents the affecting sight of an 
 affectionate family just entered by the plague ; and a 
 beautiful daughter is turning pale and languid under 
 the influence of the incipient disease, while the coun- 
 tenances of her friends show the dread with which 
 they receive the unwelcome visitant. Like the other 
 specimens, the composition, the colouring, the postures, 
 and the whole arrangement of the groups, would have 
 done credit to a painter or a sculptor; and display an 
 acquaintance with the secret of effect, which would 
 
 52 
 
410 
 
 FLORENCE. 
 
 hav^ been more welcome in more agreeable subjects* 
 Yet notwithstanding the shocking nature of the scenes, 
 the attention is almost irresistibly attracted to them, 
 and the distinctness with which their memory is pre- 
 served will prove the interest which they excite in the 
 feelings. 
 
 There is a darkened apartment, where an anxious 
 family are collected round the bed of the father, 
 emaciated and sinking under the last stages of the 
 disease ; while the attention of his daughter is fixed 
 on the infant in her arms, whose hanging head and 
 languid limbs speak too plainly the cause of her 
 anxiety. In another place, an old man and an affianced 
 bride are found in the street, weeping over the body 
 of a noble young man, who has fallen a hasty vic- 
 tim to the plague, and has been dragged from his 
 house, and thrown in his usual dress among a heap of 
 corpses. The more we looked the more we were dis- 
 tressed, yet still we stood looking on. To pass by 
 seemed like want of sympathy for our wretched fellow 
 Creatures, for such they almost appeared ; and when 
 we half recollected that they were but images, we 
 inquired, how any one could find in his heart to invent 
 such a scene. Indeed it is unaccountable, unless the 
 author had somewhere learnt to glory over the most 
 poignant distresses of humanity. How could he form 
 a heap of corpses, and exert himself to make the scene 
 look deserted and silent, and then lay in the most con- 
 spicuous place the dead body of a young woman, and 
 put a living infant on her breast? — Spread out the 
 valley of the Arno beyond, show smoking piles where 
 the dead were burning, send dogs to prowl around the 
 fields, and flocks of crows to darken the air ? Yet there 
 is still something beyond — the tomb itself is opened, 
 5and its interior is exposed to view ! — But let us hasten 
 
FLORENCE. 4H 
 
 out of the Chamber of the Plague, and seek more 
 agreeable objects than these. 
 
 Three apartments are devoted to the display of spe^ 
 cimens in Entomology; and though the majority of 
 insects must necessarily be taken in company with 
 crooked horns and long legs, or are rendered uninte- 
 resting by their microscopic size, some of them can 
 display a richness and variety of colours calculated to 
 excite the envy of the birds, and even of the very 
 flowers themselves, if they were capable of it. There 
 were many individuals of the worthy family of the 
 stag-beetles, with claws almost as large as lobsters ; 
 but we stopped only long enough to see that each was 
 well secured in his place with a large iron pin. Next 
 we saw a full assortment of spiders, from those of 
 the smallest up to Tarantulas as big as crabs. These 
 we passed with an involuntary shudder at the reflec- 
 tion that they had once been all alive ; and then suc- 
 ceeded thousands of little insects, with wings and 
 without : galliriippers, musquetoes, midges, sand-flies, 
 punkies, &;c. &:c. some of which hardly seemed to dot 
 the cards on which they were fastened. Finally the 
 more gawdy insects began to show their glittering 
 armour and their painted wings ; and graceful forms 
 were mingled with brilliant hues and the lustre of the 
 richest metals. Now came whole rows of butterflies 
 from all quarters of the world, increasing in size and 
 beauty, till they ended at one whose wings were 
 spread like a man's hands, and cast a broad yellow 
 light like sheets of gold leaf. 
 
 The display of shells in the Cabinet of Concho- 
 logy was no less extensive, and not less calculated to 
 please the eye of an unlearned spectator. Here were 
 white, coloured and variegated shells, smooth, hollow, 
 and twisted, picked up on many a far distant shore, 
 
412 FRORENCE. 
 
 and fished up from half the bays and rivers on the 
 
 globe. 
 
 Eight rooms are devoted to the minerals alone, 
 and present many specimens of inestimable value to 
 a man of science, among which the first place is un- 
 questionably due to the magnificent collection of iron 
 ores from the neighbouring island of Elba. 
 
 Beside these apartments through which we have run 
 so hastily, there are separate parts of the building 
 devoted to the collections of plants, stuffed birds and 
 beasts ; and when taken together, the Museum of Flo- 
 rence ranks among the finest in Europe. 
 
 It seems that all the Austrian troops have not yet 
 passed us. A report was circulated to-day that three 
 thousand were to march through the city this after- 
 noon : but after we had taken the pains to walk some 
 distance, and waited with patience a considerable 
 time, we found it would be to no purpose, and were 
 obliged to return without seeing them. The king of 
 Naples is however confidently expected to-morrow. 
 The government are peculiarly on the watch at the 
 present time to prevent any disturbance of the public 
 peace : for the Neapolitan army, by the bold posture it 
 maintains at so small a distance from this city, has ex- 
 cited the feelings of the Florentines to a considerable 
 degree, and the extensive society of the Carbonari 
 would be much dreaded, if the Austrians should prove 
 unsuccessful. The newspapers are so entirely under 
 the control of the government, that they speak of 
 nothing but the miserable prospects of the Neapoli- 
 tans ; and yesterday a mask was arrested by the police, 
 for bearing some symbol which was supposed to have 
 a political reference. An Englishman who has been a 
 resident in the city for some time, has been admonished ^ 
 for expressing his sentiments too freely, and advised to 1| 
 
 I 
 
FLORENCE. 4] 3 
 
 ibe more cautious for fear of difficulty. Although in 
 such a stale of anxiety it is not safe to depend on all 
 the accounts which are circulated, especially concern- 
 ing distant parts of the country, it is certain that there 
 is some disturbance in the north. Yesterday an Eng- 
 lish gentleman with his wife arrived from Trieste, 
 where they have resided for some time, having been 
 ordered to leave the city on pain of having their pro- 
 perty confiscated, and at a very short notice. The 
 gentleman had not even time to make the necessary 
 arrangements for transferring his money. 
 
 Notwithstanding the various attractions of Flo- 
 rence therefore, it seems prudent to hasten our de- 
 parture before the gathering storm shall overtake us. 
 If the Austrians should meet with a defeat at Rieti, it 
 is impossible to tell what great obstacles might be 
 thrown in our way. This part of the country would 
 certainly be put in great agitation, and travelling 
 would probably become difficult if not dangerous. 
 
 Florence, JV/arc/i 8. — The Boboli Gardens, which we 
 visited this morning, presented a magnificent sight, but 
 they too seemed to partake of the gloomy aspect of 
 the town and the weather. The sky is cloudy, and the 
 air colder than we have lately been accustomed to, 
 though it is what is more prevalent in Florence than 
 farther below, nearer the mouth of the Arno. The 
 neighbourhood of the hills in the upper parts of the 
 valley are more favourable to the collection of clouds 
 and vapours. The Palace Pitti is a large and imposing 
 structure, but without external architectural ornament 
 of any description ; and the Boboli Gardens behind it 
 abound in broad parterres, smooth gravel walks, rows 
 of evergreens, fine ranges of stone steps, statues, tem- 
 ples, and fountains; as well as with the minor, but to 
 rae more attractive beauties, of shady and secluded 
 
414 FLORENCE. 
 
 paths through untnmmed groves, with here and there 
 ail accidental glimpse of the distant landscape, and a 
 few neglected spots where even the gardener never in- 
 trudes. We were close by the city wall, and the crowd- 
 ed town lay below us. with its fine domes and towers, 
 and the long roofs of its numerous palaces ; while the 
 vineyards and canals appeared all over the plain, and 
 many a country house was seen gleaming through the 
 misty air on the surrounding hills. 
 
 The Gallery of Florence was the next object of our 
 attention ; but it will be necessary here only to remark 
 that it contains the Venus de Medicis, and several 
 other invaluable specimens of ancient sculpture; some 
 of Rafael's master-pieces, and the Medician Jewels. 
 These last are gemsof every description, brought from 
 all parts of the world which were visited by the ships 
 of the Medici, and after having been wrought and 
 arranged by the skill of Florentine artists, were depo- 
 sited here together. They almost completely cover 
 the walls of an entire apartment ; and make so daz- 
 zling a display that 1 sought in vain for any thing to 
 compare with it, except the cave of Aladdin. With 
 regard to the room in which the statue of Venus is 
 placed, together with the pictures of the Baker's 
 daughter and St. John the Baptist by Rafael, I can 
 hardly say how much I was delighted with them, nor 
 how much i wished that America might possess such 
 specimens of the arts. With my views of the sub- 
 ject, the cultivation of painting and sculpture in our 
 country should be promoted by every one who has the 
 power ; though architecture must have its limit among 
 a people where there are no kings nor nobles, and 
 where there ought to be no aristocracy. Beyond that 
 limit, it would not be patriotic to wish architecture 
 extendnd 
 
FLORENCE. 415 
 
 The population of Florence is of a totally different 
 description from that of Naples ; and even when a 
 traveller compares it with that of Rome, he will very 
 soon give it the preference. Florence is not a sea-port, 
 but an indnstrious inland city: and is besides free 
 from Lazzaroni. It is distinguished from Rome by the 
 want of antiquities and ruins, which in that ancient 
 capital of the world breed so many troublesome cice- 
 roni. The consequence is that a stranger is rarely 
 accosted by any of those ragged liers-in-wait, and is 
 allowed to pursue his way in peace, and enjoy all the 
 luxuries of level pavements, clean and quiet streets. 
 Here every body seems to be employed ; and if one 
 has occasion to inquire the way of a passenger, he 
 is replied to with the alacrity of an obhging disposition, 
 and not with one eye fixed upon an expected reward. 
 There is an independence and an honest bluntness in 
 the poorer sort of people, which is the more welcome as 
 it reminds me of America : a country that grows pre- 
 cious in my eyes, when contrasted with the servility of 
 the Neapolitans and Romans, who have so often pressed 
 their officious services, and bowed so low as to seem 
 to lay their humble services at my feet. We have 
 certainly begun our travels at the right point, for 
 every thing improves, and promises still to improve 
 the further we proceed. It is going back to past centu- 
 ries to land at Naples ; and travelling north is to move 
 along with time and the gradual progress of society. 
 Yet by far the greater portion of space still lies in re- 
 gions beyond us ; and before we can expect to arrive 
 where the comforts of life are best enjoyed, and mental 
 and moral and religious improvement are found farthest 
 advanced, " through what new scenes and changes 
 must we pass !" Every new report from the north 
 admonishes us of the uncertain state of political af- 
 
416 FLORENCE. 
 
 fairs, of changes in preparation and of pending revo- 
 lutions ; and recals the many unwelcome realities of 
 our unwonted situation — in the midst of ancient king- 
 doms at a moment when the final explosion may be 
 prepared, which is to overthrow for ever the systems 
 on which they have existed for ages. Reflections like 
 these are not always the most agreeable, yet there is 
 something pleasant in having the feelings raised above 
 the ordinary pitch, although the subjects may them- 
 selves be of no welcome nature. The insecurity of 
 every thii^g about us, superadded to the numberless 
 and extravagant abuses of men and things inherent in 
 a government like this, constantly inchnes us to refer 
 to our ow^n country and doubly to prize its customs 
 and its institutions. 
 
 I have a few words more to say of poets, our party 
 having it seems stimulated the muse of a poor rhymer, 
 who appeared at our door last evening with a modest 
 tap and a sonnet in Italian and French, to welcome our 
 arrival. It was addressed to Mr. and his compa- 
 nions, and certainly contained compliments enough for 
 a much greater number, Florence — the city of Flora 
 — was represented as taking an extraordinary interest 
 in us honest travellers, and even arraying herself in 
 fresh flowers at our approach. While such was the 
 drift of the song, it may be presumed we easily found 
 marks of genius in the author: for in a moderate 
 length of time he had succeeded in saying a great 
 deal, in a few very handsome lines. But our vanity 
 was severely checked, and the character of the poet 
 suddenly sunk in our estimation, when one of our 
 friends informed us that he had been favoured with a 
 copy of the same verses only two or three days before. 
 
 1 embraced an opportunity afforded last evening by 
 the company of a Florentine gentleman, to make some 
 
' FLORENCE. 4] 7 
 
 particular inquiries concerning the manufacture of 
 straw hats, which is carried on to such an extent in 
 the neighbouring country. It hardly needs to be men- 
 tioned that what are called Leghorn hats in America, 
 are made all over the valley of the Arno by the pea- 
 santry, and derive their name from their being ex- 
 ported from Leghorn. 
 
 The straw of which they are made is furnished 
 by a species of wheat, called " Grano Marzolo," or 
 March grain, because it is sown in that month. For 
 the purpose of making the stalks as tough and as 
 small as possible, the poorest soil is selected, and 
 twice as much seed is sown 011 a given surface as if it 
 were intended for food. It is pulled in June, just as 
 it begins to blossom; and the upper joints are cut off 
 and tied together in little bundles. The lower part 
 of the straw is of no use in the manufacture. The 
 process of bleaching is very delicate and difficult. In 
 fine weather the bundles are exposed to the morning 
 dew, and then dried in the sun as it rises. But it is 
 necessary to be very cautious, lest they should suffer 
 from the mildews produced by storms and cloudy 
 weather. 
 
 Florence, March 9. — There are four bridges over 
 the Arno, of different construction and different dates, 
 but placed at very nearly equal distances. One of 
 them supports two rows of tall stone houses, and 
 might be easily mistaken for a street. Booths project 
 from the ground stories of these buildings, and are 
 filled with a thousand articles exposed for sale, much 
 after the fashion which existed many years ago in 
 the streets of London, and I believe in other cities 
 of Europe. While lounging near that place this morn- 
 ing, we heard a rumour that the king of Naples 
 was just entering the city; and as this was immedi- 
 
 53 
 
4 IB FLORENCE. 
 
 ately confirmed by the ringing of the church bells, we 
 hastened along to catch a glimpse of that base-spirited 
 monarch. The crowd increased as we proceeded, 
 though there was but a short time for it to assemble ; 
 and before we had gone far, two couriers made their 
 appearance, followed at no great distance and at a 
 round trot by the royal coach. Hats were doffed, 
 and a murmur ran along the crowd as it passed ; but 
 the king seemed too much occupied with some merry 
 matter to notice any thing around, for he was laugh- 
 ing heartily with his companions, who wore so much 
 of that wo-begone expression of countenance which 
 men assume after a repetition of laughs cruelly forced, 
 that I really pitied them. His Majesty's features do 
 justice to his character — he has a good Bourbon face 
 — gross features, the indication of a gross and selfish 
 mind. He is to remain in Florence until the question 
 shall be decided between Austria and his undutiful 
 subjects. The issue is yet extremely doubtful. The 
 Austrian soldiers are more hardy, sober, and powerful 
 men, than I expected to find them, and f fear they will 
 prove too strong for those they are marching against 
 — I cannot call them enemies, for they certainly bear 
 them no ill will. 
 
 The situation of the Neapolitans is extremely 
 doubtful. The two armies at Rieti, after having re- 
 mained inactive within view of each other for some 
 days, have at length had a partial engagement, in 
 which, it is reported, the Austrians have lost two hun- 
 dred men, and eight thousand rations. It is to be 
 hoped that none of our late dinner companions are 
 among the fallen; above all Yohann and Harga (if 
 that was his name,) and their master — no, no, I hope 
 he may yet escape the dangers of war ; for there is 
 something in Austria he loves better than glory, 
 
FT.ORENCK. 
 
 419 
 
 Florence, March 10. — The gloom of the dark pa- 
 laces by which some of the streets are shaded rather 
 than ornamented, seems increased by the cloudy wea* 
 ther, and the melancholy face of Lent, so strongly 
 contrasted with the sunny days and the smiles and 
 gaiety of the carnival. The only music now to be 
 heard is the chaunting of a few solemn parties, who, 
 instead of extemporaneous songs, sing printed hymns 
 to the saints and the holy mother. The people be- 
 take themselves to the churches, though in no great 
 numbers considering the size of the city ; and to 
 judge from their appearance one would think they 
 were heartily sick of the carnival, and penitent for 
 every mask they have worn, and for all the antic 
 tricks they have played amongst the congregation 
 of fools. 
 
 One regrets to find in Florence in the midst of so 
 many remains of wealth, a strong tincture of the taste 
 of barbarians. The palaces have already been men- 
 tioned ; many of which, in every point of view, pre- 
 sent as little architectural beauty as the gloomy walls 
 of a fortress. The cathedral and several churches, 
 though large and in many respects fine buildings, are 
 covered with black and white marble, so arranged as 
 to form a thousand square and oblong figures of no 
 meaning and no use. While fine specimens of the 
 ancient style remain, it argues ill of their taste to find 
 them preferring the trifling complications of barba- 
 rian edifices. It is indeed gloomy : it seems to indi- 
 cate that there is a natural bad taste in man; and 
 certainly tends to raise our ideas of the genius that 
 first ascertained the true principles of architecture, 
 and combined in all their purity the elements of thf» 
 Grecian style. 
 
420 
 
 IMGUOnK. 
 
 Leghorn, March 1 1 . — At six this moi*ning we left 
 Florence, and travelled down the valley along the 
 course of the Arno. It is a turbid and swift river; 
 and from that circumstance it is to be concluded that 
 the flat country through which it runs, slopes with a 
 gradual descent towards the ocean. This delightful 
 valley, which is about fifty miles in length, has been 
 formed in the course of ages, by the soil washed down 
 from the ridges of the mountains that surround it^ 
 and gradually approach each other as they retire into 
 the Country, although they separate themselves in 
 some places to the breadth of full thirty miles. After 
 an hour or two we found the river leaving for a time 
 the plain, to run between the broken hills on its bor- 
 ders ; and were immediately surrounded with scenery 
 of a character strikingly different — hills almost inac- 
 cessible rising suddenly from the river, which now ran 
 with a more gentle current, and seemed to force its 
 passage with difficulty through a narrow channel. A 
 few villages were seen here and there; and a number 
 of old castles and towers stood in ruins high above us^ 
 on the tops of rough and lofty eminences, to show the 
 importance of the pass in times when every range of 
 mountains, and every river, divided the territories of 
 rival princes. Several beautiful little vallies among 
 the hills were cultivated in imitation of the great Val 
 d'Arno, with which they communicate by natural wind- 
 ing passages. Here the ditches are of an unusual size 
 and depth, to furnish drains for the great quantities of 
 water poured into the vallies in the rainy seasons; 
 which otherwise would tear up the soil, and destroy 
 the vineyards and wheat fields. When the view at 
 length became more extended, large tracts of the 
 great valley appeared before or behind us. This 
 
LEGHORN. 421 
 
 sight grows more and more delightful, the more we 
 become habituated to the state to which it has been 
 reduced^ by the ingenuity and industry of its inhabi- 
 tants. It is marked all over like an engraved copper- 
 plate, with hises of canals and ditches, dug in such a 
 manner as to drain off the superfluous water from the 
 river, whenever it threatens to deluge the country on 
 its hanks ; as well as to retain it in reservoirs in the 
 hot seasons, and to water the whole surface of the 
 ground when parched with drought. Every little 
 farm is an island, being surrounded by a broad canal; 
 and the ground is every where throwr? into gentle 
 ridges, which are crossed by little furrows, to facili- 
 tate the discharging of the surplus water frequently 
 poured upon it by the rain. These canals are crossed 
 by small arched bridges of stone and plaster ; and 
 when they serve as boundaries to different wheat 
 fields, are lined with trees of the natural size, sup- 
 porting festoons of vines, though the trees in the vine- 
 yards are trained as before described. It is difficult 
 to imagine the appearance of such a tract, when over- 
 looked from an elevation like that from which we 
 viewed it. Every glimpse between the hills pre- 
 sented the valley of the Arrio stretching away to an 
 immense distance, sometimes too far for the eye to 
 reach, covered with ten thousand farms, all reduced 
 to this beaut iul system of cultivation, each supplied 
 with the white house of its master, and with its own 
 wheat fields, vineyards, and branching canals. Every 
 object became more dim as it retired, till the surface 
 assumed a light brown hue, and at last disappeared 
 in the distance. 
 
 By the road side was a large manufactory of straw, 
 the first ever established. The number is now consi- 
 derable, and the quantity of hats usually kept on 
 
422 LEGHORN. 
 
 hand is large. We passed near the two villas of 
 
 Prince and the Grand Duke of Tuscany, whose 
 
 costly buildings, beautiful gardens and cypress avenues 
 made a disagreeable contrast with the dreary hills 
 around them. A few wretched old villages lay scat- 
 tered about the country, one of which, on the top of a 
 hill on the left, was pointed out as the place whence 
 the family of Bonaparte removed to Corsica. Napo- 
 leon is said to have visited the place when he was in 
 Tuscany, and to have acknowledged the remains of 
 some branches of his family in a number of its inha- 
 bitants, not likely to be otherwise distinguished from 
 the herd of degraded villagers. 
 
 We left the hilly country at length, after riding a 
 long time on the level plain, and approached Pisa which 
 stands on the Arno and in the midst of the valley, here 
 more than twenty miles broad, and extending east and 
 west to the horizon. Pisa appeared beautifully as we 
 rode along the river. The Arno runs between deep 
 banks walled with hewn stone, over which are spacious 
 streets faced with palaces ; and three fine bridges are 
 thrown across it at nearly equal distances, one of 
 which is at least cased with white marble. A corres- 
 ponding air of grandeur appears in the smooth and 
 silent streets lined with fine houses, the university, 
 hospitals and palaces of Pisa. In short almost every 
 thing expresses its ancient wealth and importance as 
 well as its present desertion. Leghorn, situated fifteen 
 miles from Pisa on a fine harbour, has robbed her of 
 her commercial character, and become the port of this 
 delightful valley. Communication is kept up by means 
 of a canal; but this necessarily reduces Pisa to the 
 grade of a secondary city, which has in consequence 
 become half deserted. The means of living here are 
 cheap, and the climate is preferable to that of FIo^ 
 
LEGHORN. 423 
 
 Fence, because farther removed from the mountains, so 
 that strangers in consequence resort hither in consi- 
 derable numbers, and occupy large houses and even 
 palaces at a very low rent. The Cathedral, Baptis- 
 try, Campo Santo and Leaning Tower, all appeared 
 to great advantage, built of white marble, in a large 
 open square. 
 
 Leaving Pisa and travelling two or three miles, 
 Monte Nero, a hill near Leghorn, at length appeared 
 before us ; and on the right of it, over a cluster of 
 distant houses, we had a cheering sight of the masts 
 of several large ships, and the Mediterranean — the 
 highway to our country. It was late in the afternoon, 
 and peasants were returning from town ; the women 
 arrayed in a new taste, with red turbans, large ear- 
 rings and crucifixes. Among some of the groups it 
 was easy to recognise the independent carriage of 
 Neptune's sons in two or three joyful young sailors, 
 who had just come on shore, and in the midst of their 
 friends were moving towards home. We returned 
 some of their smiles, and could not but sympathize in 
 their joy at reaching the end of their travels, while for 
 a moment we were not inclined to contradict what 
 their countenances expressed : that the valley of the 
 Arno is one of the most beautiful spots on the face of 
 the earth. 
 
 The two gates through which we passed, the canals, 
 draw bridge and high angular banks, spoke a city of 
 no small importance, strongly fortified on modern prin- 
 ciples. The largest street in Livorno, or as we call it in 
 English Leghorn, is long, broad, straight and well built. 
 Every thing at the entrance assumed the air of a 
 commercial city : — houses crowded with inhabitants, 
 rows of shops full of foreign articles, a crowd of ship- 
 
424 LEGHORN. 
 
 masters, mates, and sailors, of different nations, 'min- 
 gling with the inhabitants and peasantry. Several 
 persons we took for countrymen on account of iheir fa- 
 miliar faces, and an indescribable peculiarity of air, 
 which unaccountably reminded us of our own coasts 
 and harbours. 
 
 Leghoriv, March 12. — A part of the city is so much 
 cut in pieces by canals for vessels and boats, that it 
 bears the name of New Venice; and all along the 
 port the bustle speaks the most active commerce. 
 Boatmen beset us in broken English; we were sur- 
 rounded by sailors, ship-carpenters, anchors, spars, 
 ship-timber, bales of goods and a \^holesome smell of 
 pitch and tar. A large ship was seen coming into tha 
 harbour, which a stranger informed me in English was 
 supposed to be the United States sloop of war Spark, 
 from Genoa ; and so it has since proved. 
 
 The usual mode of travelling between this city and 
 Genoa is in boats called felucce, which carry the long 
 picturesque sails of the Mediterranean, and are capa- 
 ble of making much way in a calm and a smooth sea; 
 as they are provided with oars and are always well 
 manned. We are uncertain whether to take passage 
 on board the felucca Aquila, which the master most 
 highly recommends, or to go by land. Travellers 
 frequently suffer much inconvenience and danger iQ 
 these boats : for the weather is remarkably variable 
 along the coast, and the only shelter they can offer 
 during the night is a spread sail On the other hand, 
 those who travel by land fiiid the roads very bad at 
 best, and much of the way nothing better than a foot- 
 path, over high and tedious mountains, where the inns 
 are represented as miserable, and the expenses unrea- 
 sonably great. To increase the difficulty of deciding, 
 
 I 
 
ROAD TO GENOA. 425 
 
 one of my friends wishes to reach Genoa as soon as 
 possible to sail for Gibraltar, and the other fears to 
 risk his improving health on board of a felucca. 
 
 Leghorn, March 13. — In this city we find ourselves 
 comparatively idle. Here are no Roman ruins, no 
 classic sites, no master-pieces of architecture, paint- 
 ing or sculpture. One might indeed learn the value 
 of the port by ascertaining the exports, imports, ton- 
 nage, &c. if he were possessed of a commercial genius, 
 and fond of taking extensive views of subjects, might 
 point out new channels and new objects of trade, to 
 benefit Italy or foreign countries. But all this would 
 have no reference whatever to the antiquity we have 
 now formed a habit of revering. We have lately 
 been in Rome ; and though there is little else than 
 poverty to be seen, yet Leghorn with all its wealth 
 seems disgustingly modern, and I fear we shall never 
 become sufficiently modernized again to be even com- 
 fortable. 
 
 Ijvccx^ March 14. — The result of our uncertainty is 
 that we are at length in this city, so far on our way to 
 Genoa by land. This morning, while we were in the 
 midst of our doubts, it happened that some travellers 
 arrived at the inn in a crazy old vehicle which they 
 dignified with the name of a coach, and their driver of- 
 fered to take us on his return as far as Spezla. We 
 did not long deliberate : for the felucca master had 
 begun to show some signs of false-heartedness ; and 
 we soon found ourselves rolling along the level road to 
 Pisa. As we approached that beautiful city, women 
 and men were seen drawing boats along the canal ; 
 and children ran along by our side with long sticks, 
 and blue flowers of a sweet sickly smell tied at their 
 ends, and managed with such dexterity as to keep 
 them within two or three inches of par fgices, yet -so 
 
426 ROAD TO GENOA. 
 
 as not once to touch us, whining all the while in £i 
 melancholy tone, to win upon our purses. 
 
 We stopped at Pisa two hours, and had some leisure 
 to examine more particularly than before some of its 
 interesting objects. The Church of Holy Mary of the 
 Thorn is built on the bank of the river, and is a most 
 singular specimen of architecture. The style is 
 Moorish Gothic, and far excels every other in the 
 complication and roughness of its ornaments. Indeed 
 the building is so covered with sharp points, that it 
 looks as forbidding as a cluster of brambles. It was 
 erected for the depository of a pretended thorn from 
 the crown of our Saviour, from which it has its name. 
 
 As soon as the road left the great plain, it began to 
 wind among narrow vallies, which preserved the same 
 level for a long time. At first the land was poor, 
 though often deluged ; and the houses few and wretch- 
 ed. Beyond, small semicircular walls of stone were 
 built all over the hills, to support terraces just large 
 enough for single olive trees, which covered them 
 with a deep verdure, and gave to the landscape the 
 liveliness of our early summer. The vallies are 
 covered with wheat, lupines, and pease, now about 
 twelve inches high ; and drained by deep canals and 
 occasionally divided by rows of tall trees, from which 
 vines hung in festoons. The poplars were budding 
 and a few apricots were seen in blossom, showing the 
 season to be in the same state of advance as it was at 
 Naples on the first of February. On the hills above 
 Us stood old towers and battlemented walls, long de- 
 serted and half in ruins : once the fortresses of chief- 
 tains jealous of each other, and bloody in their dis- 
 putes for their little territories — these valleys and hill- 
 sides — though now their names and histories have pro* 
 bably been forgotten even by tradition itself. 
 
ROAD TO GENOA. 427 
 
 We stopped at the Custom House of the Grand 
 Duke, and about half a mile bejond at that of the 
 Dutchy of Lucca ; after which we observed a great 
 improvement in the appearance of the country. The 
 canals were dug with still more labour and beauty 
 than in the Val d'Arno, the great mother of all these 
 little vallies. The dwellings of the peasants were 
 much more spacious and comfortable, and were 
 built along the road at equal distances. In front of 
 each was a small arched bridge, crossing the canal 
 which always bordered the path. The appearance of 
 the people had much improved ; small droves of hogs 
 and flocks of sheep were tended by women and chil- 
 dren, well dressed and with happy and healthful coun- 
 tenances. The women had short scarlet jackets with 
 long sleeves; and instead of hats wore coloured hand- 
 kerchiefs upon their heads, usually blue and tied under 
 the chin. Villas were not uncommon among the hills, 
 and contributed to give the face of things a still more 
 agreeable aspect. 
 
 Our sorry horses and crazy vehicle had spoken s^ 
 gloomily of what travellers might expect in this coun- 
 try, that we had taken the precaution in Leghorn to 
 provide an ample store of provisions ; and occasion now 
 commended our prudence : for no decent inn was to 
 be found, and while we produced our travellers' re- 
 past, it improved our appetites to reflect, that without 
 it we must have gone hungry to Lucca. Here we 
 arrived about sunset ; and after driving through nar- 
 row streets, between well built houses, arrived at the 
 Hotel of Europe, where we have been supplied with 
 large and well furnibhed rooms. The city walls are so 
 thick as to furnish a pleasant walk all around : a thing 
 not very uncommon in Italy. The architecture of the 
 churches is some approximation towards the Gothic, 
 (which 1 regret I am not well enough instructed to trace 
 
42U kOAD TO GENOA. 
 
 out,) having little colonnades with a great many small 
 round arches crowded closely together. Our road- 
 book mentions few interesting objects here ; and we 
 had only time to observe an air of respectability in 
 the people and their habitations, during a walk 
 through a few streets in the twilight, which it is 
 natural enough for us to attribute to those liberal 
 institutions which the little republic so long en- 
 joyed. 
 
 Sf>£ziA, March 15. — It was hardly six o'clock when 
 we left Lucca, and was so dark that we saw nothing 
 for a long time. When day at length broke, moun- 
 tains appeared, white with snow, and the tops of the 
 hills just above us, some barren and others covered 
 with the rich olive groves which afford the celebrated 
 oil of Lucca. The hills often terminated with old 
 walls and square towers, which looked down upon the 
 vallies below as if they were yet proud of their an- 
 cient strength and importance. 
 
 As objects became more distinct, the valley was seen 
 covered with fields of great fertility, and divided by a 
 winding river which we crossed on a fine bridge. Such 
 however is the quantity of water which the hills pour 
 down after every storm, that its banks are strongly for- 
 tified with high walls; and considerable tracts of land 
 lying too low to be drained, are deluged by it and ren- 
 dered quite useless. Yet the inhabitants are wretch- 
 ed, carrying burthens in a slavish manner on their 
 heads, and dwelling in hovels. 
 
 At Santa Pietra, an old-fashioned little town, we 
 stopped and were conducted to the police-office to 
 have our passports examined, as we had crossed the 
 frontiers of the Dutchy of Modena. Every thing was 
 uninviting—- narrow dirty streets, low houses and po- 
 verty-stricken people — nothing lofty except the airs of 
 its governor, who mistakes impudence for dignity. 
 
ROAD TO GENOA. 429 
 
 Near the old towers which defend the gates of the 
 town, we observed two ancient marble coffiris hand- 
 somely sculptured, one of which is used as the basin 
 of a public fountain. 
 
 Not far beyond we stopped at two other custom 
 houses, near the boundary of the Dutchy of Massa 
 Carrara. We observe slight variations in the cus- 
 toms of these little distinct states as we pass along, 
 %vhich although of small importance are yet not wholly 
 destitute of interest : because they indicate the opera- 
 tion of different systems, as wel! as a very limited cor- 
 respondence between the subjects of adjacent go- 
 vernments, who, in new American settlements, would 
 regard each other as intimate neighbours Yesterday 
 we noticed man;^ little niches in the walls of the 
 houses, and gardens, supplied with plaster jfigures re- 
 presenting saints, &c. which reminded us of the do- 
 mestic gods of the Romans. The following pertinent 
 inscription is from a sun-dial in the territory of Massa 
 Carrara : " Speranti tarda^ velox timentiy One of the 
 capitals of this little territory. Massa, is a small town 
 which makes a very pleasant appearance on the side of 
 a hill, where its white houses and villas and the palace 
 of the duke are seen mingled with olive trees. On 
 approaching it however, poverty looked out at the 
 doors and windows, and through the tattered garments 
 of the inhabitants. The road too in some places was 
 almost impassable, and the style of living, on the 
 whole, appeared to us to be very uncomfortable. It 
 is consolatory to think, that if this be a fair specimen of 
 the whole dutchy, there are but few inhabitants to suf- 
 fer from its slovenly habits and neglected agriculture : 
 for its whole population amounts to only thirty-eight 
 thousand souls. At Carrara, which is but a few miles 
 offj are the most extensive marble quarries in Italy. 
 
430 J^OAD TO GENOA. 
 
 which indeed supply the sculptors of a great part of 
 Europe. 
 
 It was afternoon when we reached Sarsana, the first 
 town in the territory of Genoa. x4s soon as we stop- 
 ped at an inn outside of the walls, which our coach- 
 man as usual preferred, we were surrounded by boat- 
 men and mule-drivers, each of whom seemed ready to 
 take us on his back as his lawful prey. For some time 
 the confusion was so great that we coiild distinguish 
 nothing; but at length, by hearing one at a time, we 
 learned that the river JVlagra was much swollen by the 
 rains, and therefore, if we were to believe the asse- 
 verations of both parties, it would be madness to go 
 either by land or water. They both agreed that it 
 would be impossible for our vettura to be got across, 
 because there was no boat large enough to hold it. 
 Then the boatmen insisted that it would be certain 
 death to attempt to cross the river, and that there were 
 countless torrents beyond, so that we could do nothing 
 but take their boats ; while the mule-drivers declared 
 that we should be drowned in the boats, that they 
 knew a place where the Magra was fordable, were 
 acquainted with the whole road, and would promise 
 to conduct us safely either to Sestri or Genoa. 
 
 At length we resolved to proceed in the vettura; 
 and having ordered the coachman forthwith to lead 
 out his sorrowful horses, we pursued our way across 
 the waste plain, half a league, to the Magra. The 
 river was about a quarter of a mile wide, and bor- 
 dered on the opposite side by a range of hills of con- 
 siderable elevation; while the half marshy, half sterile 
 appearance of the plain spoke of frequent and dan- 
 gerous floods. The ferry-boat had just landed in spite 
 of the violence of the current, although it had been 
 carried a good distance down ; and when we reached 
 
ROAD TO GENOA. 43| 
 
 the spot, we found a courier getting out his horses 
 and carriage, and harnessing them on the shore. He 
 seemed in great haste to pursue his journey, as if he 
 were the bearer of important news : but we had little 
 time to question him, and he little disposition to an- 
 swer ; so we set off for the other side, hoping no new 
 disorders had happened to impede our progress to- 
 wards the north. Several peasants were with us in 
 our little boat, who with a civility suited to the place, 
 offered us the most convenient situations for standing, 
 while they pointed out an old citadel and town on an 
 opposite hill, and told us the evils of living on the 
 shore of a '^ bad river," like the Magra. The women 
 had again a new fashion to show us — broad- brimmed 
 hats of straw with very low crowns, the hair confined 
 in a long bag of net-work on the back of the head, 
 and coloured handkerchiefs on their shoulders. A 
 queer old man with a large black hat directed our 
 attention particularly to the opposite town of Tre- 
 biano, if I rightly understood the name; for the lan- 
 guage was little better than totally unintelligible to us. 
 It had been a place of great consequence, as it com- 
 manded the passage of the river, which is usually 
 fordahle at this place; and formerly gave the title of 
 Dukes to its possessors, who were men of power and 
 privilege. 
 
 When the boat grounded, some of our companions 
 carried us ashore on their backs : and as we all walk- 
 ed along the foot of the hills, they gradually turned 
 oflfj by little paths winding through olive grounds and 
 among vines trained on trellisses. leaving us with their 
 good wishes to pursue our journey. As it was late in 
 the day, our road was shaded by the hills ; but it 
 overlooked the Magra, the waste plain beyond partly 
 covered with bushes, the town of Sarsana among the 
 
432 l^OAD TO GENOA. 
 
 hills dark with olives, and behind them a ridge of 
 mountains covered with snow and facing the sun It 
 was not wonderful that the old man should have taken 
 so much interest in the history of Trehiano, the an- 
 cient fortress of a little romantic territory, the tradi- 
 tionary details of which could hardly fail of pleasing 
 the taste of an antiquary, particularly if they were 
 interwoven with scenes most ^miliar to himself, with 
 the names of his family, and the hves of his ancestors. 
 
 At late dusk we reached Spezia; and stopping at 
 an inn were shown a dining-room and chamber, where 
 the furniture was a medley of the luxuries and the bare 
 necessaries of life. Mule-drivers have been oflfer- 
 ing to conduct us over the mountains to Sestri, but 
 their demands were so exorbitant and unreasonable, 
 that caution and the expression of much indifference 
 were necessary on our part to prevent the most gross 
 imposition. A contract has at length been reduced to 
 writing and signed by a fellow we have engaged ; in 
 which, according to the custom most approved by tra- 
 vellers in this country, a present is promised to the 
 guide himself, on condition of his giving us satisfaction. 
 
 Some indescribable change is taking place in the 
 language. Whether it be owing to the words or only 
 to the manner of speaking, the people are not only to 
 a great degree unintelligible, but have lost almost all 
 the soft and flowing sounds of the Italian. To us it is 
 highly ludicrous to hear the people gravely conver- 
 sing in more barbarous tones at every stop, though 
 our habits have become such that, I cannot tell how, 
 we feel no disposition to laugh. 
 
 BoRGHF.TTO, March 16, («/ noon.) — At six o'clock we 
 mounted our horses, and began to ascend the hill, on 
 the side of which stand the ancient and weather- 
 beaten houses of Spezia. This was the beginning of 
 
KOAD TO GENOA. 
 
 433 
 
 a tedious ride of an hour or more along a fine road, 
 which stretched by zigzags up the side of a mountain. 
 Our guide was on foot, yet he travelled so much faster 
 by climbing among the rocks from angle to angle, that 
 he was often obliged to stop for us to oviertake him. 
 From the top we enjoyed a retrospect of no small 
 beauty. The mountains were half covered with olives^ 
 and descended in an irregular horse-shoe to the water, 
 like the hills of Baiae, but on a far more magnificent 
 scale. Spezia lay below on a beautiful bay, from 
 whose banks ran out several points, furnished with a 
 few houses and towers; while the Mediterranean was 
 seen beyond, and some distant land on the horizon. 
 The whole theatre below us was in the shade : for the 
 sun had not yet risen so high as to appear over the 
 mountains. In some places however, the light broke 
 through the narrow vallies, and falling bright on the 
 tops of the trees and the green terraces fresh with dew, 
 showed the beautiful artificial outline of the hills, and 
 brought to mind the industry of the inhabitants, far 
 IDore valuable than the most fertile soil. 
 
 As we descended on the opposite side, the prospect 
 was in melancholy contrast with what we had just 
 been admiring: rough mountains, bare from base to 
 summit, excepting where a few detached spots of land 
 were cultivated, in the neighbourhood of miserable 
 huts and little woods of old chesnut trees. A few 
 poor mountaineers were carrying hay and wood in 
 bundles on their backs to Spezia ; but the road soon 
 dwindled away, and consigned our party to a blind 
 path, and the gloomy scenery of wild and deserted 
 mountains. Through the broken valley that wound 
 at their feet ran a swollen torrent, which our horses 
 forded without difficulty, although uprooted trees, 
 loose rocks, and broad beds of pebbles showed that 
 
 55 
 
434 ROAD TO GENOA. 
 
 the land on both sides had been often overwhelmed 
 by a furious and irresistible deluge. 
 
 Thus we proceeded for three or four hours, along a 
 path so narrow that two horses could barelj go abreast, 
 and sometimes so steep as to put all their sagacity in 
 requisition to keep their feet. The prospect seemed 
 more and more dreary at every new turn : other 
 mountains rose, of a more enormous height and more 
 disheartening sterihty. Some of them aflfbrded a lit- 
 tle soil here and there, just enough for the support of a 
 few old chesnut trees, which were planted in rows on 
 large terraces ; but the greater part presented an uni- 
 form surface of grey stones, from which large rocks 
 had rolled down, and now lay in shapeless masses all 
 over the valley. A few persons were found inhabiting 
 a country even so desolate as this, their birth and 
 habits having attached them to the very sterility and 
 desolation from which our hearts revolted : for smoke 
 was discovered rising over cottages placed at great 
 distances from us and from each other ; and we saw a 
 few clusters of houses hardly worthy of the name of vil- 
 lages, which being built of stones were w^ith difficulty 
 distinguished from the walls around them. They 
 were usually situated at the distance of two or three 
 miles from the path we travelled, in places where we 
 could not see the least appearance of vegetation, and 
 where it seemed impossible that the inhabitants could 
 gain a subsistence. Sometimes a small dwelling was 
 perched alone on a summit, near a little spot oi 
 grain or a vineyard, at such a height above us that I 
 sincerely believe I could not have reached it in a 
 whole day. 
 
 But our attention was often diverted by the difficul- 
 ties of the path. Our horses had been long accus- 
 tomed to the mountains and to travelling in companyJ 
 
ROAD TO GENOA . 435 
 
 Bind it was impossible to make them follow any other 
 order of march than a single file, and any other rules 
 of prudence than those that long habit had esta- 
 blished. The path was frequently so narrow as to be 
 impassable for two at once, and sometimes so steep as 
 to appear to us quite dangerous. In several places 
 too it wound round the face of a steep hill, with a 
 precipice on the right one or two hundred feet deep; 
 so that a single mis-step would have thrown us down, 
 horse and man, into the torrent below. A little habit 
 however made us rely with confidence on the caution 
 and sure-footedness of our animals ; and in places 
 where we should at first have held our breath with 
 dread, we soon learnt to ride on unconcernedly, taking 
 care only to sit steadily and to give them the reins. 
 In the middle of the useless valley below we at length 
 discerned a round hill, quite covered with vines and 
 wheat fields, which although shrunk to an insignificant 
 size by the surrounding mountains, presented a most 
 agreeable object to the sight. A little beyond we dis- 
 covered the miserable town of Borghetto, which is 
 furnished from the products of that hill with a scanty 
 supply of bread and wine. For the remainder of their 
 food, the inhabitants are obliged to fish in the tor- 
 rent, and to gather chesnuts and shoot hares and 
 partridges on the dreary mountains. Chesnuts form a 
 very important article of their food. They are four 
 times as large as those in America, of a much sweeter 
 flavour, and yield a fine flour by grinding of which the 
 inhabitants make most of their bread. A very ancient 
 stone bridge crosses the river, full thirty feet above its 
 present surface : but as it is only wide enough for foot- 
 passengers, we were obliged to ford it below ; and our 
 horses as they sprung on shore sorely frightened a 
 party of women and children, who were washing 
 
4^6 HOAi) Tb GENOA. 
 
 iclothes on the margin. The looks and dress of thes^ 
 people did ample justice to the poverty of the coun- 
 try ; and when we entered the town, we were ready to 
 pronounce it the most disgusting group of habitaijons 
 we had ever seen. In addition to the usual dirty 
 streets with broken pavements, and rows of wretched 
 houses built by poverty and inhabited by laziness, 
 Borghetto has a new source of inconveniences. The 
 ground on which it stands is but little above the ordi- 
 nary level of the river ; and it is therefore overflown 
 at every flood, in spite of the town walls, which seem 
 to have been built partly for the purpose of excluding 
 it. The streets and cellars are still swimming with 
 water in many places, and the buildings have general- 
 ly a high-water mark^ running along about the middle 
 of the basement story. The church which stands 
 very low is sometimes half under water, and then be- 
 comes inaccessible except in boats. Here is a mean 
 post-house and inn^ furnished with just enough provi- 
 sions to ensure the traveller against starvation, and 
 iSuch charges as seem designed expressly to lighten his 
 pockets for the remainder of his toilsome journey. 
 We were furnished with stale wheat bread, which had 
 been brought across the mountains ; and with some 
 difficulty obtained a piece of " castagnale^^'' or chesnut 
 bread. The inn-keeper looked a little ashamed as he 
 brought it out, and well he might, unless it is wrong to 
 feel mortification at the extreme poverty of one's na- 
 tive soil. It was a damp, heavy cake about the size of 
 one's hand, of a mahogany colour and a sweetish 
 taste ; and looked more like a mass of moist red clay 
 than a piece of bread. 
 
 Sestri, evening, — Leaving Borghetto, we found the 
 Xiountry growing still more wild, and presenting the 
 ^enes peculiar to gigantic mountains in a thou-. 
 
ROAD TO GENOA, 43^ 
 
 sand new varieties. The summits rose above us to a 
 most stupendous height ; vallies spread broader and 
 deeper below, so that it was often painful to look down; 
 and as we slowly moved along, we grew more and 
 more ashamed of the insignificance of riian, and imost 
 lost our courage at the sight of such overwhelming 
 proportions. 
 
 We were frequently obliged to avoid the common 
 fords by circuitous paths, on account of the swelling 
 of the torrents: and this served to convince us of the 
 absolute necessity of a guide. Indeed without one a 
 traveller must inevitably lose his way, among the blind 
 paths, and run many risks of drowi-ing. 
 
 At length we reached a place where parties of 
 peasantry were at work, on a road commenced by the 
 French, and slowly advancing under the king of Sar- 
 dinia. It shows all the various stages between com^ 
 mencement and completion. In some places it has 
 been only marked out — in others the workmen were 
 digging it to a level, and in others still there was only 
 a loose pavement of rough stones laid as a foundation* 
 Even women and girls joined in this laborious work — 
 such is the custom of the country— -and forming lines 
 carried baskets of earth on their heads, instead of 
 being found at the loom, the dairy, or the school* 
 house, as they would inevitably have been in our own 
 country, leaving the work to carts and oxen. We 
 were usually forced to keep the old mule-path, along 
 which our horses plodded at their accustomed gait, 
 and in their established order, with caution and 
 safety ; though it was often so steep that we had to 
 walk, and sometimes offered so precarious a footing, 
 along the steep brow of a mountain, that the guide 
 made us dismount, lest the scraping of our knees 
 against the encroaching bank on one side, should make 
 
438 liOAD TO GENOA. 
 
 the horses swerve from the track and throw us down 
 the precipice on the other. One maj form his own 
 conclusions concerning; the state of society, in a coun- 
 try where the inhabitants have been content with 
 roads hke these ever since the Flood. I speak of all 
 parts of Italy we have seen ; for excepting a few fine 
 mihtary roads made by the governments, the only 
 access to villages is generally by mere mule paths; and 
 many of the inhabitants can never have seen a wheel- 
 carriage. This new road will be very fine. It winds 
 along the sides of the mountains, keeping the same 
 angle of ascent or descent, occasionally crossing a deep 
 ravine on an arched bridge, or turning round the face 
 of a precipice, where the solid rock has been re- 
 moved by blasting, so as to furnish a terrace twenty 
 or thirty feet wide. In many places a great deal of 
 labour and expense would be incurred every year by 
 its exposure to the torrents, which the rains form in 
 every little natural channel, but for the foresight and 
 expedient of the engineers. Each of these chan- 
 nels is allowed to run unobstructed beneath stone 
 arches, built of a size amply sufficient to allow a pas- 
 sage to those vast floods of water, and the stones and 
 earth they bring along with them. The surface of the 
 road is made flat, and slants towards the mountain, 
 where it empties the water it receives from the rain 
 into a paved gutter, and is thus preserved from ano- 
 ther threatened injury. The most thorough acquaint- 
 ance must have been obtained with the country, to 
 ascertain with precision the angle of ascent, which 
 brings the road after so many turnings exactly to the 
 summit ; and it is a most interesting specimen of human 
 ingenuity and power, in a place where one would other- 
 wise regard himself as a member of an insignificant 
 race of beings, to see its bold and lengthened lines, 
 
ROAD TO GENOA. 439 
 
 now stretching along the steep side of a mountain and 
 descending into the valley, and now attempting the 
 opposite eminence with obstinate perseverance in a 
 toilsome zigzag, and at length reaching the top by 
 many laborious but successful windings. 
 
 The rocks were of compact lime-stone, frequently 
 mixed with large masses of fine slate, whose strata 
 were nearly perpendicular. In one very elevated 
 place, several hills were formed of a black, loose rock, 
 which much resembled common fossil coal, but was un- 
 doubtedly some variety of hornblende. 
 
 Here was a scene of the most perfect desolation : 
 mountains and vallies, uncultivated and uninhabited. 
 The eye ranged over whole miles of surface; but 
 excepting only two or three shepherds and their little 
 flocks, not a living thing was to be seen, not a vestige 
 even of former inhabitants : not one stone upon ano- 
 ther which had been placed by the hand of man. 
 Between the rocks a few solitary shrubs were to be 
 found ; and some of them had put out a little bunch 
 of unknown reddish flowers, to show that they too had 
 at length begun to feel the influence of a backward 
 spring. 
 
 Thus we travelled a long time, till as the road gra- 
 dually wound round the side of the mountain, we 
 began to see trees scattered over an undulating sur- 
 face at an immense distance below. Green olives and 
 vineyards next appeared ; then little fields and gar- 
 dens, single houses and trees planted for ornament and 
 use ; and two or three monasteries or chapels. This 
 was beautiful indeed ; and our eyes rested upon that 
 first civilized and verdant spot, with some degree of 
 that delight which a sailor feels at the sight of land, 
 when he is half surprised to discover how well he 
 loves green hills and the society of man. A thick 
 
440 ROAD TO GENOA. 
 
 cluster of white painted houses was now seen at the 
 foot of a hill, and the masts of several boats led us to 
 observe that they stood on the margin of the water. 
 In 'du instant a turn in the path brought us round the 
 obstructing rocks ; and with great surprise and plea- 
 sure we gazed on the Mediterranean, which lay 
 stretched out almost too far for the eye to follow it, 
 until it met the sky. Four blue islands were distin- 
 guished on the horizon, two of which the guide pointed 
 out as Corsica and Elba : but these were the only ob^ 
 jects to break the uniformity of the ocean, which lay 
 under a serene sky in perfect tranquillity. We saw 
 however one little speck near the shore, which proved 
 to be a felucca, moving slowly along with its oars : 
 perhaps the '' Aquila," in spite of all the false-hearte4 
 promises of its masters to be at Genoa in two days. 
 
 As we proceeded, with a prospect now open, now 
 obstructed, we gradually gained the highest point of 
 the whole road — ^a bare ridge which overlooked the 
 neighbouring mountains — and travelled along its top for 
 two miles, frequently enjoying- scenes of great subli- 
 mity. On the right was a succession of mountainous 
 peaks, some of which seemed composed entirely of sand. 
 These were irregularly illuminated and thrown into the 
 shade by the setting sun, which spread over some of 
 them a brilliant orange tint ; and as they lay below, 
 we looked upon them from a commanding height, like 
 travellers in a balloon. On the left lay the ocean, at a 
 depth below which we despaired of estimating, stretch- 
 ing cut to the west till it almost touched the sun. At 
 length we discovered a deep valley about two miles 
 in diameter, at the bottom of which were a few poor 
 houses ; and vines were seen here and there, support- 
 ed by trees trained into still larger and more regular 
 foruas than any we had ever seen. The few domestic 
 
GENOA. 441 
 
 animals there were apparently fed on dry leaves, for 
 their pens were full of them. 
 
 The descent was now very rapid, and seemed so 
 dangerous in spite of the zigzags in which the path 
 continually turned, that we several times dismount- 
 ed, choosing to trust to our feet. At sunset we were 
 among broken hills and deep ravines where cottages, 
 walls, vineyards, and olive trees were scattered 
 among ledges of rocks and the dry beds of torrents, 
 in a variety highly picturesque. Haviig crossed a 
 valley a quarter of a mile wide, entirely covered with 
 loose pebbles, we forded a swift stream which every 
 year overflows the banks and makes a tremendous tor-? 
 rent, and rode two miles among vineyards where muU 
 berry trees are formed with great regularity, and gar- 
 dens where the green trees and flowers gave an exhila- 
 rating sweetness to the air. Our poor horses sponta^ 
 neously quickened their pace, and cheerfully ambled 
 along a smooth road, till they came to the suburbs of 
 Sestri and stopped at the first inn they saw, 
 
 Genoa, March 17 — Sestri is a small town situated on 
 a round hill which rises from the water; and it pre- 
 sented a very cheerful sight this morning as we passed 
 it at the distance of half a mile, with its old towers, 
 olive groves and white houses, brightening in the 
 rising sun. The road came to the beach, which 
 stretched away six or eight miles round the head of 
 the bay. The neighbouring land was high and irre- 
 gular particularly on the opposite side, which was a 
 ridge of mountains, bare and channelled near the top, 
 and so far off that they assumed a soft purple hue. 
 In some places the road passed under high ledges of 
 rocks, cut down like a wall on the right ; while large 
 fragments lying in the water, half covered with sea- 
 
442 
 
 GEJNOA. 
 
 weed and exposed to the waves, often formed a fine 
 foreground to the beautiful distant scene. 
 
 Two or three little villages were built along the 
 road; and many of their inhabitants who were drawing 
 their nets on the beach, were remarkably well dressed 
 for their humble employment. The women wore the 
 hair uncovered ; and several men with round hats and 
 large trowsers, like sailors at home, had a degree of 
 enterprise in their air which if it be characteristic of 
 the Genoese, as I think it is, may well claim for them 
 the name of the Yankees of the Mediterranean. 
 
 At length we rode through a fine town called Chia- 
 vari, whose streets though narrow, were quite lined 
 with shops protected by long piazzas from the sun and 
 the rain, and making a rich display of all sorts of mer- 
 chandize. Beyond this place the coast is almost moun- 
 tainous, and a fine road winds round the outer sides 
 of the hills, among dark groves of olives, looking down 
 from a greater and greater height upon the sea, which 
 comes quite to their bases. In two places holes have 
 been bored through the rocks to give a passage ; but 
 the view is usually uninteriupted, having in front a 
 portion of the road, and the steep hillside broken up 
 by the terraces and shaded with olive trees. At a dis- 
 tance were seen various points of land, the sea and 
 the sky ; while a fine day showed them all to the best 
 advantage. 
 
 Rapallo stands in a small bay of the same name. 
 As we entered, the women were sitting in groups in the 
 streets, making lace and talking on subjects apparently 
 gf much importance — whether national or local we did 
 not learn. Our way still lay on the sides of lofty hills, 
 almost overhanging the sea; but at length the view 
 was confined to a small piece of ground shut in by the 
 
GENOA. 443 
 
 mountains. Here the road seemed to terminate ; but 
 we found a tunnel had been blasted through, and we 
 entered a dark passage thirty or forty yards in length. 
 When we emerged, an extensive prospect was opened 
 to our eyes. Just under us appeared a great many 
 rounded hills, quite coated with olive groves and 
 rising from the very shore of a broad and beauti- 
 ful bay, on the opposite shore of which was a fine 
 ridge of mountains, scattered with a few white houses 
 half way up their sides. . They were nearly fifteen 
 miles off, and had the rich purple tint of the moun- 
 tains on the bay of Naples, and no small share of their 
 magnificence. On the right, and still about ten miles dis- 
 tant, several long hills thickly inhabited pointed to the 
 shore with a gentle descent; and where they reached 
 the bay, were lost among an indiscriminate mass of 
 ships and edifices, which crowded the harbour and the 
 city of Genoa. It was a cheering sight — We had now 
 passed the inhospitable mountains, as well as the 
 various inconvenrences and privations of our more 
 southern route ; and we looked forward with light 
 hearts to the comforts and enjoyments of a better 
 state of society. Besides, we were far from the 
 tumult of the Austrians and Neapolitans : revolutions 
 now lay beyond the Appennines — the country we were 
 looking upon seemed as if reposing in the enjoyment 
 of peace, and the ships sailing by far belovi^ remind- 
 ed us of different countries and continents no less 
 happy. 
 
 Among the numerous hills between this spot and 
 Genoa, some of which had looked so green and fertile, 
 stands Santa Margaretta, a village on the coast ; and a 
 little beyond we passed a villa, pleasantly situated in 
 a semicircle of hills opening on the bay, respectable for 
 its age rather than remarkable for its beauty. We in- 
 
444 GENOA. 
 
 quired its name : " It is the villa," said a young Genoese 
 in our company ; " the family still possess it, though cir- 
 cumstances have much impaired their fortunes, and de- 
 prived them of that consequence which under the 
 Republic made them rank among the most illustrious 
 of Genoa. They usually reside in the city, but have 
 removed to this villa within two or three days for 
 greater security." " Had they any particular danger 
 to fear." " No, our independence is nearly secured; 
 — but they deemed it prudent to be a little out of the 
 reach of the revolution," — then seeing us start and 
 look at each other, he added, " for you have doubtless 
 heard that Genoa has proclaimed the Spanish Consti- 
 tution^ and that the Sardinian has fled .^" We assured 
 him that it was a new and unexpected piece of intelli- 
 gence. " Indeed ! Have you not heard that the stu- 
 dents of the University of Alessandria have taken up 
 iarms, and excited all Piedmont to a revolt? As soon 
 as this was known at Genoa the whole city was in 
 commotion ; the constitution Was proclaimed, and the 
 king made a precipitate retreat, nobody knows whither. 
 But did you not meet the corriere ? He was imme- 
 diately despatched with the news — it is three days 
 ^go." '* We met him at the river Magra, but had no 
 lime to question him. Are we to apprehend any 
 inconvenience in travelling, on account of these 
 changes ?" " I imagine not," replied our compa- 
 nion, " it is not the policy of the revolutionists to 
 molest such as do not meddle with the politics of 
 the country. No — Europe is too much enlightened 
 to bear it any longer, and Zegna, [Genoa,] after the 
 freedom and independence she so long enjoyed, will 
 never be content with any thing less than its re-esta-* 
 iblishment. She has suffered under oppression which 
 those only can fully suffer who have once been free ; 
 
GENOA. 445 
 
 but now il is at an end. If she has more to endure, it 
 will be only the privations and sacrifices necessary for 
 regaining her liberty." 
 
 Thus our companion continued to expatiate on the 
 prospects of his country, for which he showed so much 
 enthusiasm, that it was impossible not to join with him 
 in admiration of her ancient glory, and ardent hopes 
 for her future prosperity. The green of the olive trees 
 which covered the hills brightened before our eyes, 
 when we reflected that they had been planted by free- 
 men ; and each of the secluded vallies as we passed 
 seemed too delightful for a country of slaves. 
 
 We inquired whether the step taken by the stu- 
 dents had of itself produced the revolution. "Oh! 
 no," he replied, " the sect of the Carbonari deserve 
 the honour of having prepared every thing long ago. 
 To their influence is to be attributed the noble exam- 
 ple which Naples has set us : have you heard the re- 
 port to-day, that the women of Gaeta have made a 
 sortie, and killed .5,000 Austrians ? The Carbonari 
 are extended in all countries, indeed every liberal 
 man may be considered as belong:ing to this society. 
 They are called Liberals in France, Constitutional- 
 ists in Spain and Portugal, Patriots in America, and 
 Radicals in your country." " You take us for Eng- 
 lishmen, we are Americans." " Americans !" said 
 he, with an expression of pleasure and of respect, 
 " Then you must feel interested in us. Your country 
 is now the only free country on earth, and therefore 
 the only happy one. But it is to be hoped that we 
 may at length increase the number, though for the pre- 
 sent Genoa must be content with mere improvement, 
 and only hope for perfection. A plan for a general 
 insurrection in the north of Italy has long been con- 
 certed. The Carbonari have held an extensive secret 
 
446 GENOA. 
 
 correspondence^ by which it was agreed that Lom- 
 bardy should take the lead, as soon as the Dews 
 should arrive of any important success gained by the 
 Neapolitans : but the pr^triotism of the students at 
 Alessandria, uho ;«resonsof the first fatnih^^s in Pied- 
 mont, was not to be restrained; and we shall pro- 
 bably hear, on our arrival at Genoa, that the Lom- 
 bards have riseii in arms, and that the Austrian army 
 is enclosed by its enemies. The Grand Duke and the 
 Pope will not find their subjects backward in rebel- 
 lion ; and such enthusiasm will be spread through all 
 Italy, that — mark wfiat I say- — not a single soldier of all 
 the emper^yr's troops will ever see Austria again /" '^ O spare 
 a few oi them !" we said to ourselves — ^^ those honest 
 fellows who left us unmolested when they had us in 
 their hands, while they might so easily have stopped 
 us in lonely places with a pistol hall, or have hid- 
 den us among the rocks, or thrown us from precipices 
 — and more especially those with whom we lately 
 sat so peacefully on the same hearth, at Nepi, Terni, 
 and San Giacomo." 
 
 But we were fast approaching Genoa; and the large 
 villas, which were scattered about the hills on all 
 sides, served to remind us of her former wealth and 
 greatness. Matiy of them were very splendid, and 
 stood in the midst of extensive grounds, partly orna-J 
 mented and partly cultivated; but the edifices them- 
 selves were usually painted with various colours and 
 figures, so useless and tawdry as to disgust our 
 eyes, with a display of barbarous taste in a new 
 variety. 
 
 The appearance of improvement however in mor€ 
 important particulars drew away our attention. The 
 peasantry live in cottages, it is true ; but there is a 
 neatness about them, and an air of comfort, superior 
 
GENOA. 447 
 
 to any thing on the other side of the Appennines. In 
 a small valley which retired from the sea shore be- 
 tween two dark hills, the soil was fertile and covered 
 with gardens, where great quantities of vegetables 
 were growing for the supply of Genoa. Here each 
 family inhabited in a cottage comparatively neat and 
 comfortable, cultivated their little fields, and drew 
 water at their own door, by means of what is called 
 in America a well-sweepe. The scarcity of timber how- 
 ever is betrayed in a way calculated to strike very 
 forcibly the native of a welbwooded country. Instead 
 of raising the body of a tree to support the long lever 
 by which the bucket is raised — awkwardly 1 allow, yet 
 just as we see it at home — they build a tall column of 
 stone and mortar. It would doubtless be a very curi- 
 ous subject to trace customs even as simple and tri- 
 fling in themselves as this, from country to country, if 
 the means could be obtained ; and to learn the circum- 
 stances in history connecting the Genoese with the New 
 Englanders in so trivial a point as this. It is proba- 
 ble however that all the books in the world would not 
 be able to afford any material information on this sub- 
 ject ; and it is certainly less laborious and more agree- 
 able to trace it to a similarity of habits, of character, 
 and of exigencies: for I he Genoese have become by 
 their superior daring, industry, and enterprise, the 
 sailors of fhe Mediterranean, as the Greeks are of the 
 Archipelago, and the Americans of a still larger por- 
 tion of the world. 
 
 But the peasants were coming out of the city in 
 groups as we approached, and the women attracted 
 our attention by the singular appearance they made 
 with shawls, or long figured muslin handkerchiefs, 
 thrown over their heads, the ends being confined by 
 their folded arms. The long parallel hills which 
 
448 GENOA. 
 
 gradually rise behind Genoa, as they retire back froiu 
 the shore, now began to betray marks of the extreme 
 outposts of the fortifications, at the distance of two or 
 three miles, while much of the courjtry wore an aspect 
 at this season decidedly sterile The road at length 
 wound over drawbridges, and through dark gates of 
 hewn stone, from which we emerged into the Via 
 Nuova — a street of no great width but lined with two 
 rows of very large buildings; which for their size and 
 costliness, though not for their taste or beauty, are 
 called palaces. This street, with several bendings 
 however and two changes of name, extends to the 
 length of a mile or more, and certainly presents a 
 scene of the splendour of wealthy citizens 1 never 
 saw equalled. 
 
 We were ready to exclaim, '* Genoa has been 
 rightly called a city of palaces" But we saw cause 
 to change in some respects our first opinion of the 
 city, when we were told that the streets leading to 
 the Swiss Hotel were too narrow for a carriage. We 
 were conducted through several lanes only about 
 twenty feet wide, where the buildings on each side 
 made our way very dark, and the articles crowded at 
 the shop doors and the bustle of busy men almost 
 prevented us from proceeding. 
 
 Genoa, March 18.— The closed shops and the de- 
 sertion of the streets to-day intimate a regard for the 
 Sabbath quite new to us in this country. Instead of 
 the ihrongs of citizens and peasants we have always 
 found promenading on that day, the few persons we 
 saw were going to church with great seriousness. 
 This is undoubtedly owing in a degree to its being 
 the season of Lent: yet it seems impossible that Ge- 
 noa should ever be the scene of as much hilarity on 
 the Sabbath as Rome and Naples. 
 
G£NOA. 449 
 
 The church of Cagliano is one of the finest build- 
 ings in the city, and is certainly a noble work for an 
 individual. It stands on the ridge of a hill, which is 
 so steep that it was accessible only with great labour, 
 and through streets but ten or twelve feet wide, until 
 a fine bridge was constructed across the narrow 
 valley, which looks down on a street and the roofs of 
 buildings of five stories. It is of brick, about a 
 hundred feet high, with three arches ; and is a great 
 thing for modern times, though most unfortunately 
 it forms an obtuse angle with the walls of the church. 
 We entered during service ; the audience were all 
 seated instead of standing or kneeling, and turned 
 and regarded us with some surprise, as if they were 
 not accustomed to the intrusion of strangers. It was 
 remarkable also that there were hardly any men 
 amongst them. They were all females, with long white 
 scarfs covering the head, coming all round the face, 
 and then wrapped about their arms according to the 
 fashion of the city, as described to us months ago by 
 our old friend Mattia. 
 
 This afternoon, at the time when the arrival of 
 the corriere from Alessandria was expected, a great 
 many people were collected about the post-office, who 
 showed by their actions how much they were affected 
 by the uncertain state of the country. They were 
 anxiously expecting news of a revolution in Lom- 
 bardy, and were prepared to feel strong with such an 
 accession of power, or feeble without it. 
 
 Genoa, March 19. — To-day has been a festa or holi- 
 day, and the morning was devoted to staying at home 
 or going to church. In the afternoon however the 
 great street was crowded, like the Corso of Naples or 
 Rome of a Sunday. The language we hear spoken 
 is to us almost unintelligible. Many differences ar^ 
 
 57 
 
450 GENOA. 
 
 doubtless to be found between it and that of Tus- 
 cany: but some of the most apparent are those pro- 
 duced by changing the sound of a few letters. 
 Soft g is always pronounced like our z ; and r and / 
 sometimes change places. Genoa is called Zegna; 
 morto, molto^ and molto, morto. 
 
 The long and uninterrupted rows of palaces, which 
 give such an air of magnificence to the streets Nova, 
 Novissima, and that which connects them, furnish at 
 every step some proof of the ill taste of their build- 
 ers. Some are placed on uneven ground, some are 
 glaring all over with glass, or darkened by small win- 
 dows, others are ill-divided by entrances or low sto- 
 ries, and many are basely disfigured with paint. Here 
 one sees, or fancies he sees, the Genoese merchant 
 betraying his parsimony, as well as his want of taste. 
 The absence of architecturaL ornament among the 
 palaces of Florence may be lamented : but an at- 
 tempt to supply friezes, pilasters, and columns, with 
 an economical brush, to save hewn stone, is paltry in 
 the extreme. Rome, degraded as she is in some re- 
 spects, would laugh it to scorn. Nobody ever felt dis- 
 posed to thank the bankers and princes of Genoa, for 
 thus disgusting his eyes to save their own purses. 
 
 There is a very striking similarity in the physiog- 
 nomy of the women, which is beauty at a distance, but 
 plainness close at hand. All their faces are so much 
 alike, that it would require time for a stranger to be- 
 come accustomed to their minute differences before 
 he could tell them apart. Whatever may be the 
 cause of such a phenomenon, the Genoese females all 
 resemble each other and no body else — a thing en- 
 tirely unknown in our country, where time has not 
 been given for the physiognomy natural to the soil, if 
 there be such a thing, to begin to show itself This 
 
GENOA. 451 
 
 IS a curious subject, and one about which it is verj 
 difficult to come to any certain conclusions. It is safe 
 however to state facts ; and certainly something as uni- 
 versal as common law, has given the faces of most of 
 the Genoese ladies an oval form and a peculiar ex- 
 pression, and gently turned all their noses up, without 
 distinction of age or rank. 
 
 I experienced no small pleasure to-day, in stepping 
 from a boat rowed by two Genoese watermen, upon 
 the deck of the brig , from Newburyport in Mas- 
 sachusetts, among a crew of my own countrymen. 
 This is the only American vessel in the harbour, and 
 the captain took charge of a package for the United 
 States, with a cordiality which showed that the sight of 
 a countryman reminded him of many delightful things. 
 
 Among the crowd, hawkers were crying the Consti- 
 tution of Spain; and a few persons were carried about 
 in sedan chairs, for all the streets in the city are too 
 narrow for carriages, with the exception of three or 
 four, and riding seems to be almost out of fashion. 
 
 We visited the Palace Serra, which is one of the 
 finest in the city, and saw a much greater display of 
 wealth than taste. The keeper placed himself at our 
 head, and threw open the doors with such an air, that 
 we expected to see some of the seven wonders of the 
 world. Instead of that however, he had but some 
 half dozen of pictures to show us, including frescoes 
 on the ceilings, and two or three apartments where 
 much expense had been lavished on gaudy decora- 
 tions. But what was expected to excite our raptures 
 was a hall hung round, not with original paintings, but 
 with large mirrors, and whose roof was supported by 
 columns, not made of Egyptian granite, or verd-an- 
 tique, but covered with gold-leaf beaten out of Veni- 
 tian sequins ! Here were no relievos, busts, nor sta- 
 
452 GENOA. 
 
 tues : but the old man showed us some gold chains, a 
 few specimens of embroidery, and a French clock, with 
 a smile as if he had been giving a child a rattle. 
 
 This palace is new, having been built only about 
 thirty years ; and, like a few others in the city, be- 
 longs to a family now in the height of prosperity. 
 Many of the ancient families have by various causes 
 been reduced even to want, and their spacious resi- 
 dences are wholly deserted, or rented at a very tri- 
 fling sum. A fine palace in the Via Nova, with its 
 silk tapestries and heavy furniture, is occupied by an 
 English merchant, who pays only the value of a hun- 
 dred pounds a year ; and there are so many instances 
 of such melancholy changes, that the great men of this 
 once powerful city have left their descendants little 
 else than empty names and empty palaces. 
 
 We crossed the Via Nova and entered a gate, to 
 see the full-length portrait of a man who must ever be 
 regarded with high admiration, both for his genius and 
 for the immense and sublime consequences of his ac- 
 tions. The painting is in fresco, on the wall just 
 within the door of the Palace Spinula, and of course 
 cannot be a master-piece of the art. But here the 
 artist is forgotten, and so would he be if he were Ra- 
 fael himself. It was enough for us that we were in 
 Genoa, and that this was a portrait of Christopher 
 Columbus. If a Spaniard could write on his tomb ; 
 « He has given a new world to Castillo and Leon," in 
 gratitude for the wealth which his discovery promised 
 to Spain, what shall we say, when we stand in the 
 birth-place, and in the presence of the man to whom 
 we are in debt for our country? Here are such cir- 
 cumstances as none but an American ever was or ever 
 can be placed in. Many discoveries have been made, 
 but what were they ? A mountain, a river, or a sea 
 
GENOA. . 453 
 
 was crossed and a new tract of land was discovered, 
 possessed, and inhabited, large enough for a colony, a 
 city, or a nation. But who ever formed such a plan, 
 or overcame such obstacles — who, with the most bril- 
 liant success, ever brought to light a country large 
 enough to adjust the balance with Europe, Asia, and 
 Africa — what discoverer ever produced consequences 
 of such import to mankind ? This picture in this place 
 brings to mind America as it was in the time of the 
 Genoese — then it changes to its present aspect — 
 forests disappearing, cities built, nations springing up 
 and fast spreading over from one sea to another, and 
 fleets sailing to every corner of the world We seem 
 to look down as from the Appennines, upon the hills 
 and vallies he discovered, upon our own home and 
 the land of our fathers ; and while we regard it with 
 that peculiar aflfection which is felt when the eyes are 
 fatigued with foreign scenes, we find our gratitude 
 equal to our admiration. 
 
 East of the city is a fine promenade, reaching for 
 three quarters of a mile along the border of the bay, 
 which has been raised, and supplied with parapets 
 and a long line of artillery that ranges over the an- 
 chorage. The harbour is large and partly protected 
 from the violence of the sea by two moles, one on 
 each side : but the entrance is so broad as materially 
 to disturb the shipping, which at this time was rolling 
 very much, while the waves were dashing among the 
 rocks below us, and throwing the spray over the para- 
 pets. The opposite side of the harbour is Hned with 
 large store houses, now nearly empty, though once 
 the reservoirs of an extensive commerce; while the 
 long covered passages we had before traversed, and 
 found half deserted, were then the centre of traffic 
 for the merchandise of the Mediterranean. 
 
454 ROAD TO TURIN. 
 
 Alessandria, Morch 21.— The carnage in which we 
 travel is called a Diligence, and is formed precisely' on 
 the plan of the French stage-coaches of that name, 
 which travellers describe as the most lumbering, un- 
 wieldy machines ever invented lor the transportation 
 of human bodies by land. It is however strong and 
 safe ; and the laws coiicerning it are so wise and ef- 
 fectual, that the traveller is sure of a comfortable seat, 
 good roads, good treatment, good inns and punctual 
 arrival, without suffering the extortion of a corriere. 
 
 Our fellow passengers were almost all Piedmontese, 
 who, for some reasons they have not seen fit to avow, 
 have been spendirtg months or years away from home, 
 and are now hastening to Turin, as they were all for- 
 ward to declare, for the purpose of joining the army 
 which the Prince Regent is raising. Two of them 
 were formerly officers and one a soldier ursder Buona- 
 parte; of whose talent and success they expressed 
 the warmest adriisralion, while they condemned him 
 for his insatiable ambition. Their conversation ra/i on 
 armies, and collaterally on such political events as 
 were likely to affect armies. Their style was height- 
 ened much above the ordinary level of travelling 
 dialogue, and betrayed the delight they felt at being 
 restored, by a happy revolution, to the immediate en- 
 joyment of the freedom of speech, and a shortened 
 prospect of the stations they had fallen from, and 
 the scenes they loved ; while their familiarity with 
 blood, their unblushing fronts at the narration of their 
 own vices, together with the tremendous imprecations 
 they were continually pouring out, made us shudder at 
 the moral diseases generated by war, and the contami- 
 nation it spreads through nations and continents. To 
 us, who are not accustomed to standing armies, but to 
 a militia that supply in patriotism what they want in 
 
ROAD TO TURliV. 455 
 
 discipline, it presents a spectacle no way flattering to 
 the countries of Europe — the questions of liberty and 
 slavery committed to armies of such men as these, who, 
 with hearts worthy of a bad cause, forget their country 
 and every thing good when they take the field, and 
 fight only for pay and plunder. 
 
 We travelled from three in the morning until ten, at 
 a slow rate, because the road, though very fine, was 
 gradually leading us up the sides of long mountains. 
 Some of them were of pudding-stone, and entirely 
 waste and barren, excepting here and there a little 
 wheat, a vineyard or a few chesnut trees. Men were 
 driving mules towards Genoa, loaded with panniers of 
 fine cauliflowers, and others towards Alessandria with 
 packages of goods. It is the custom here to shoe their 
 animals with plates of iron, projecting about four 
 inches beyond the toe and bending a little up, under 
 the vulgar belief, (possibly well founded.) that it is 
 easier for travelling, particularly in climbing moun- 
 tains. We met a few women with long red and white 
 shawls over their heads, and the men had white caps 
 striped round with red. They all had the marks of 
 health in their faces. Some of them wore cloaks made 
 of striped blankets, and several were carrying heavy 
 loads to a distant town, over that long and weary road. 
 From the summit of the ridge, the view reached back 
 over the waste mountains descending gradually to- 
 wards the sea, and the city of Genoa with the green 
 hills in its neighbourhood. We passed through a few 
 miserable towns, and saw others on the tops of high 
 and almost inaccessible hills : but we at length reach- 
 ed the foot of the mountains, and felt happier at finding 
 ourselves on a level road, and proceeding at a quick- 
 ened pace along a fine valley, covered with green 
 wheat and spotted with small vineyards, where the 
 
456 ^OAD TO TURIN. 
 
 vines were short, and lay on the ground. It is a branch 
 of the great valley of the Po, which beginning at the 
 foot of the Alps, follows the course of the river, 
 and joining the small vallies on its branches, extends 
 as it proceeds, and comprehends a large part of Pied- 
 mont and Lombardy. This extensive tract of country 
 is no less remarkable for its beauty and fertility, than 
 for the numerous battles of which it has been the the- 
 atre. At Novi, a town through which we passed, is the 
 ground where Suwarrow fought the French under Jou- 
 bert, on the 16th of ^August 1799. 
 
 As we rode along, the ground appeared perfectly level 
 on all sides for several miles, and presented a scene of 
 the greatest fertility, where as usual, no hedge, no fence 
 intervened between the cultivated fields. There were 
 several villages situated upon the road whose appear- 
 ance ill accorded with the luxuriance of the soil, and 
 spoke but too plainly that the inhabitants had more to 
 do with the tillage than the fruits of the ground. One 
 of the meanest of these was Marengo — composed of 
 several hundred cottages built of mud, and pre- 
 senting so comfortless a scene, that a traveller would 
 «hut his eyes upon it, were it not for the battle fought 
 here on the 14th of June 1 800, between the French 
 and Austrians. The whole plain is admirably calcu- 
 lated for the manoeuvring of armies, as it is firm 
 ground and not divided by either hedges, fences, or 
 ditches. 
 
 The same scene continued the remainder of the day 
 until sunset, when we came to a broad ditch crossing 
 the road, and reaching to a considerable distance to 
 the right and left. It was full of water; and the earth 
 which had been thrown out formed a high bank on its- 
 margin, well covered with turf A range of cannon 
 peeped over the top, which seemed ready to sweep 
 
ROAD TO TURIN. 457 
 
 tlie plain : but they remained silent as we passed over 
 the draw-bridge and through the gate. The other side 
 of the bank now showed itself, furnished with inclined 
 paths for drawing up the guns, and flat surfaces for 
 them to stand upon. At a little distance further we 
 crossed another ditch, which was divided by a fence 
 of stakes, and through another gate. Here was a 
 specimen of the modern system of fortification in its 
 simplest form, and comprehensible by persons the 
 least conversant with the subject. An army approach- 
 ing is resisted at the outline. If they succeed in cross- 
 ing the ditch, climbing up the counterscarp, (or steep 
 side of the bank,) and in maintaining a position, the 
 besieged have only to draw down their guns, retreat 
 across the next drawbridge, shut the gate, and open 
 a battery upon them, at still greater advantage than 
 before. The assailants have not the least defence 
 from the breastwork they have won : for every thing 
 being reversed, they are on the wrong side, and are 
 still forced to 6ght on the plain, exposed without 
 a shadow of protection, to the descending shot of the 
 enemy. In front there is a winding path, so made as 
 to lead up to a new raking fire at every turn ; as well as 
 a higher bank and a broader ditch, obstructed by a 
 fence of long stakes driven into the bottom ; while the 
 troops within be 1 collected into a closer body, and 
 shooting from behind a taller and more solid breast- 
 work, are sweeping down the soldiers as they hesi- 
 tate with discouragement, and their officers while 
 they are meditating new plans of attack. When we 
 reached the third ditch, which in some places is 
 double, and remarked the superior height of the bank, 
 the brick and hewn stone which frequently supplied the 
 place of earth, and the darkness of the gate which 
 indicated the great thickness ol the- wall ; together 
 
 58 
 
458 ROAD TO TlTRm. 
 
 with the muzzles of heavy cannon that almost grazed 
 our elbows as we entered, we thought that patriotism 
 and our military companions were now on the safe 
 side. We were stopped an instant, and hastily exa- 
 mined by the soldiers, but were permitted to proceed 
 without delay. Some labourers passed us with pick- 
 axes and shovels, who had been at work for ten days 
 in repairing the breaches in the fortifications made by 
 the Austrians in 1814, and our companions rejoiced at 
 the news that they were rendered stronger than be- 
 fore, declaring that the emperor would now find the 
 city impregnable. 
 
 It was sunset as we entered the " Square of Arms,'^ 
 and were ordered to stop. The square though large 
 was filled with people, who were evidentl}' in a state 
 of agitation, and immediately crowded round the 
 Diligence and inquired the news from Genoa. Our 
 fellow travellers thrust their heads out at the windows, 
 and talked with great fluency with every one who chose 
 to speak to them, but it was impossible to satisfy the 
 anxious multitude, who formed such a dense body and 
 made such a noise about the carriage, that the police of- 
 ficers had no small difficulty in hearing us answer to our 
 names, and in getting us off to the Governor's Palace. 
 They guarded us with great politeness into a small 
 dark room in an upper story, where our passports were 
 produced, and we were arranged before the tribunal 
 for a strict examination. When lights were brought 
 several of our party were recognized by the police 
 officers, and welcomed with a cordiality which partook 
 not a little of the tremulous anxiety so universal. They 
 seemed agitated, and often stepped aside to whisper in 
 each other's ears. " Signor ," said the judge, ad- 
 dressing my countryman, " Is that your name ? — Well 
 — you are a student," (for our friend at Naples, partly in 
 
ROAD TO TURIN. 453 
 
 roguery perhaps, had written in our passports that we 
 were students by profession,) " a student of what ?" 
 We were both unprepared for this question, and knew 
 not what to say : for students are now persons of po- 
 litical consequence ; and the eyes of all the company 
 were turned upon us. Our fluent military companions 
 however hastened to say that we were Americans, and 
 felt interested in the success of their cause, so that we 
 were soon delivered from suspicion, and treated with 
 cordiality. Our passports had yet to endure so par- 
 ticular a scrutiny, that we feared lest they might be 
 found defective in some particular through our neglect, 
 as we should certainly have met with serious difficulty, 
 and might perhaps have been detained in Alessandria, 
 and involved in its uncertain fate. We were at length 
 released, and the officers apologised for treating pa- 
 triots and friendly foreigners with as much rigour as if 
 they had been spies ; and then, pointing out the way 
 to our inn, wished us good night. This inn is built in 
 the usual manner, but is much the most comfortable 
 and best furnished we have met with in Italy. The 
 city has the air of neatness, and wealth. The Square 
 of Arms is surrounded by coffee-houses, and a senti- 
 nel I observed at a palace was in the dress of a 
 citizen. 
 
 Turin, March 2. — Just outside of Alessandria is a 
 bridge over the Tanaro, where we were stopped by a 
 sentinel until he could wake his officer, and show him 
 our passport. Our fellow travellers seized the oppor- 
 tunity to point out the spot where the French filled up 
 the river, to supply the place of the bridge which the 
 inhabitants had destroyed, and thus entered the city. 
 It continued dark for a long time, as it was three 
 o'clock when we started ; and after several hours we 
 
466 ROAD to tURlNi 
 
 n 
 
 were among broken ground and a poor, yellowish 
 soil, chiefly uncultivated, though we saw a few vines 
 on the hills and some wheat in the valleys. The 
 wheat fields are generally long and narrow ; and the 
 ploughs used by the inhabitants are made in a very 
 bungling manner of wood, even to the share. Oxen 
 are used in ploughing, as well as harrowing, and we 
 observed they were all of a large cream-coloured 
 breed, and wore white blankets. The head-dress of 
 the women is sometimes a white cap, sometimes a 
 broad gypsey hat of coarse straw. 
 
 We took coffee at Asti, a large town, and were not 
 a little surprised on asking for bread, to see the waiter 
 bring in a number of long sticks, of the size of pipe- 
 stems, and lay them upon the table. We repeated 
 the demand, and were near laughing, when it appeared 
 that both he and his master called them bread, and 
 expected us to eat them. The taste was agreeable 
 enough, but we found it required so much time to ma- 
 nage them, that instead of making way with a couple of 
 yards, (a moderate allowance for a breakfast,) we had 
 hardly swallowed a foot and a half when the Diligence 
 was proclaimed ready. 
 
 Here a young man joined us, who, though not in the 
 University, was preparing for a scholar. He told ub 
 that the students, who marched from Alessandria yes- 
 terday, were at Asti this morning, and could not be far 
 before us on the road. He was warm-hearted and 
 sprightly, and engaged our hearts by the good nature 
 he betrayed when he discovered we were foreigners, 
 and almost entirely ignorant of the Piedmontese dia- 
 lect, his native tongue; but we were sorry to find that 
 the thoughts of so amiable a young man, had never 
 been employed on a subject so interesting to us as 
 
ROAD to TURIN. 46 i 
 
 America, of which he hardly seemed to have heard 
 even the name, and evidently now thought of it with 
 interest for the first time. 
 
 In the neighbourhood of this place has been disco- 
 vered the site of Nova Alba, an ancient Roman city; 
 and many interesting antiques have been dug out of 
 the earth. A tract of country over which we after- 
 Wards passed rose in long and gentle hills, in such a 
 manner as to present with pleasing variety fields co- 
 vered with different crops, occasional rows of trees 
 and a few villages with churches arid spires. At Villa 
 Nova we stopped to dine. A flag was hung out at a win- 
 dow of the inn, which bore '* Italia Liberatao Morte," 
 -^" Italy free or death ;" and every apartment was 
 thronging with the revolted students. With much dif- 
 ficulty we obtained a small bed-chamber, where a 
 plain table was spread for us, next the dining room, 
 where the young patriots were eating and drinking 
 with much noise and riot. When we had eaten some 
 maccaroni, and two or three other dishes of meat, and 
 disposed of a yard or a yard and a half of bread each, 
 the drum beat to form the line of march, which was 
 performed, but in a slovenly style, under the sarcastic 
 eyes of our military companions. The students were 
 all in their usual long black coats, without any mark 
 that I recollect to distinguish them, and excited many 
 a jest and suppressed laugh from the balcony over 
 head, where we were standing, at their boyish beha- 
 viour in disputing for seats in the baggage-wagons, 
 their college air, and the awkward manner in which 
 they handled their muskets 
 
 While at table, one of Buonaparte's quondam sol- 
 diers insisted on showing us some of the inn-keep- 
 er's best wine, which with some difficulty was pro- 
 duced, and proved excellent. This led the conversa- 
 
4^2 B.OAD TO TDRlN. 
 
 tion to American cider and English porter, and variouiy 
 other subjects relating to the two countries. We 
 explained the difference between roast beef and beef- 
 steaks, which gratified our young friend as he had al- 
 ways taken them for the same thing. One said we were 
 very happy in America, the only free country in the 
 world. The student inquired if we lived under the 
 Spanish Constitution : but for this he was laughed at by 
 one or two who knew better. He asked if female edu- 
 cation were conducted on the same plan as in England 
 -^-in short if our ladies possessed the gentleness and 
 modesty of the English females. We told him that 
 on that subject we wo^ild yield to no country on earth. 
 " Ah !" cried he, " you are blessed indeed ! Though 
 an Italian, I grieve to say I do not like the manners of 
 my countrywomen ; and from what I have seen of tra- 
 vellers, I entertain so high an idea of the character of 
 English females, that I never see one without regarding 
 her as more than mortal." The rest of the company 
 deemed that they were no better than Piedmontese or 
 Neapolitans : but, with a tenacity which in my own eyes 
 did high honour to his tast<' and judgment, and the 
 purity of his heart, he adhered to his opinion, and de- 
 clared again that he never even thought of an Enghsh 
 lady without considering her, " a fair spirit from a su- 
 perior world." 
 
 After dinner we reached the borders of the great 
 Valley of the Po, covered with fine fields of wheat 
 and varied by a few trees. For several hours we 
 rode on among them, until late in the afternoon ; when 
 we had reached the bank of the Po, a shallow river a 
 hundred yards across. The water is so shallow at this 
 season, that an American would call it a very small 
 stream : but history has given it an interest wholly inde- 
 pendent of Its size. On the right hand wa» a range 
 
■A 
 
 
 
TURIN. 463 
 
 of hills, much shaded with olives and scattered with 
 houses and villas, among which was the late palace of 
 the king, now pointed out as that of the Nation ; while 
 at a great distance before and on the left, were seen 
 the Alps, rising abruptly from the vast plain, first in 
 dark ridges and then in lofty peaks covered with snow, 
 like noble walls l)uilt of white marble, and intended to 
 divide the nations of men. Turin at length appeared, 
 with its beautiful bridge stretched on arches across 
 the Po, and the domes and towers of its churches 
 rising from the plain. The Alps stood at a great dis- 
 tance behind on three sides, partly obscured by 
 clouds, while their sides and summits were white, and 
 in some spots were gleaming bright in the sun, as if 
 they had been overspread with silver. 
 
 The female peasants had changed their caps for 
 enormous hats of straw. A little girl five or six 
 years old, who was leading home two large quiet 
 grey oxen, showed us a pair of rosy cheeks and fine 
 eyes, encircled by the brim of such a hat ; and, 
 though unconscious of it herself, has as pretty a face 
 and as contented a mind as any little girl in all 
 Piedmont. 
 
 Having crossed the bridge, which was built by the 
 French, and is a most beautiful specimen of architec- 
 ture, a police officer stopped the Diligence in a square 
 at the entrance of Turin, and demanded our passports. 
 A walk extends from that place along the margin of the 
 Po, and people were walking in all directions, appa- 
 rently meditating on the uncertain fate of the country. 
 Questions poured in upon us the instant we stop- 
 ped. — We observed many about us with the bearing 
 of influential citizens, and the powdered hair, spruce 
 dress and courtly manners which our fathers say at 
 home indicate an education in the old school. Some 
 
464 TURIN. 
 
 with the air of politicians, inquired if the Genoese 
 had confidence in the Prince Regent, whether the 
 Alessandrians felt assured of success, and if thej ex- 
 pected the Lombards to take their side. The con- 
 versation of several others drifted on the side of com- 
 merce ; and a few more merely asked what was the 
 state of the roads, whether the season were more ad- 
 vanced at Genoa, when the troops might be expected, 
 and how they looked on their march. 
 
 " So you are come on to help us fight," said one to 
 his friend the soldier^ — "Are you all military.'^" inqui- 
 red one of the police. " No, but we are all Piedmont- 
 ese, except a Roman and two Americans," " Ameri- 
 cans !" said the officers with some surprise, " where 
 are they ?" and he stepped forward with much curi- 
 osity expressed in his countenance, as if he had ex- 
 pected to see some whimsical specimen of human na- 
 ture from a distant corner of the world, and was form- 
 ing in his own mind a savage according to the best of 
 his knowledge, of a mixture of skins and gew-gaws. 
 When he saw however that we were white and wore 
 clothes — in short, that we looked like Christians and 
 Piedmontese, he shrunk abashed; and making a most 
 apologizing bow instantly retired. The news had 
 spread among those about us, that there were actually 
 two living Americans in the Diligence ; and several 
 heads were successively thrust in at the windows, as if it 
 had been a den of wild beasts, bringing staring eyes 
 and gaping mouths almost into our faces. But they re- 
 treated as precipitately as if a lion had roared, and 
 this only seemed to increase the curiosity of those be- 
 hind, for nobody who had obtained the wished-for 
 sight was heard to utter a single word, but each re- 
 tired with precipitation. It was with difficulty we re- 
 strained our laughter, though it must be acknowledged. 
 
TURIN. 455 
 
 that it was not very gratifying to be taken for a mon- 
 ster until the opposite was proved. There were how- 
 ever, a large proportion who evidently knew some- 
 thing of America, and advanced with more suppressed 
 curiosity, and much respect, as towards the represent- 
 atives of a country they considered the happiest on 
 earth, and to men born and educated among political 
 privileges and blessings far very far, superior to those 
 at which they were aspiring, and for which they had 
 just put their property, their friends, and their own 
 lives in jeopardy. Their thoughts had been so long 
 employed about freedom, that the very name of a re- 
 public awakened their feelings in an instant ; and we 
 began to wish ourselves old and wise enough for sages, 
 and tall enough for giants, that on descending from 
 the Diligence we might produce something corres- 
 pondent to the ideas they Rpomf>d in have formed, of 
 the power and wisdom of our country. 
 
 The appearance of Turin struck us very agreeably 
 at our entrance : for the houses are good and built 
 with much regularity, and the principal streets are as 
 straight and broad as those of Philadelphia. In one 
 particular they are to be preferred to any city in 
 the United States — the side-walks are under wide 
 arches, opening on one side into shops and coflfee 
 houses. These things argued at once a superior taste 
 for what we consider many of the necessaries and 
 comforts of life, and the dress and port of the citi- 
 zens proved that they had advanced an important 
 grade in civilization. 
 
 Turin, March 23. — As no Diligence went to-day, 
 we were forced to remain ; and have been disap- 
 pointed in a walk about the town, to find so few of 
 those objects which in more southern cities are al- 
 ways ready to occupy, if not to instruct a traveller at 
 
 59 
 
466 truRiN. 
 
 leisure. The cathedral and the churches which we 
 saw had nothing remarkable, except the non-descript 
 barbarisms of their cupolas : jet on leaving them, we 
 could not help feeling that the inhabitants had shown 
 a taste well accordant with our own, in preferring the 
 comforts of good houses, clear and spacious streets, to 
 the much vaunted but less substantial pleasures of an- 
 cient pictures and splendid chapels. 
 
 A fine walk bordered with trees quite encompasses 
 the city; and even at this season of the year, while the 
 trees are still stripped of their foliage, presents a fine 
 view of the neighbouring hills, the Valley of the Po, 
 and the long range of the Alps. The Po is very shal- 
 low and runs slowly. It was a little surprising to find in 
 this part of the world, so rude a remnant of barbarism 
 as a canoe. There were several boats of this descrip- 
 tion along the ehnr^, formpct of hollowed logS, CXaCtly 
 
 like those used by the Indians fur whom i suppose we 
 were taken yesterday. 
 
 In the city every thing wears a serious aspect, 
 corresponding with the state of the country. The 
 theatres are quite closed — even against religious dra- 
 mas; horsemen are contir)Ually patroling the streets 
 night and day; a train of military wagons entered a 
 few hours ago ; and sentinels in the dress of citizens 
 are placed at every public gate and door. At the 
 coffee-houses, (where we observe it is the fashion for 
 every person to r^ise his hat at entering and retiring,) 
 the conversation is almost exclusively on political sub- 
 jects ; and the people who continually throng the pub- 
 lic squares are thoughtful and anxious. Even the 
 children have caught the spirit of the time, and put- 
 ting on paper caps and wooden swords, march about in 
 companies, as if looking for little Austrians to chal- 
 lenge and destroy. 
 
TURIN. 
 
 A61 
 
 Turin, March 24, (morning,) — Before setting out 
 for Suza and the Alps, we have had time to take a 
 lounge in the great square, and found it excessively 
 crowded, and the city evidently agitated by some im- 
 portant event. The bills at the corners soon made us 
 acquainted with the cause of the universal commo- 
 tion : the Duke of Savoy, the Regent, had suddenly 
 disappeared during the night, and left the revolution- 
 ists without a leader in their utmost need. This news 
 though plainly declared, was however followed by such 
 exhortations to good courage, pxrnses for the conduct 
 of a young and inexperienced prince, and spoke of a 
 speedy revolution in Lombardy with such confidence, 
 as to betray the pen of a statesman, and to intimate that 
 the fugitive prince had probably not borne away on his 
 shoulders the head that planned the revolution, and 
 the mind which through his lips had helppd to dictate 
 plans for the fuiurt- lu all Piedmont. A postcript men- 
 tioned a report, that the French government had been 
 overthrown by the assassination of Louis. The dis- 
 appearance of the prince, it was evident, had ex- 
 cited a very serious alarm throughout the city ; 
 and on every side were seen parties of men ear- 
 nestly discussing political subjects. There was one 
 person however who seemed to take no interest in the 
 concerns of the state. It was a poor woman with a 
 foreign face and dress, a long stick in her hand, and a 
 vandjke ornamented with cockle shells — the marks of 
 a pilgrim to some distarjt holy place. She had just 
 entered Turin on her way home, and weary and faint 
 was looking doubtfully around, for some one to com- 
 passionate and assist her. She was soon supplied, and 
 in a manner she probably considered as providential: 
 for although she seemed ignorant of the language, her 
 scallop-shells were reamed with respect, and a shop- 
 
468 TURIN. 
 
 man seeing her pass, ran after her and hospitably in- 
 vited her into his house. 
 
 The appearance of several persons we have met 
 s^t the Diligence office, who are already enrolled as our 
 fellow travellers for the two or three following days, is 
 such as to promise us much interest and variety ; and 
 one of them who is a middle aged man, in an unpre- 
 tending dress, modestly accosted ns this morning, and 
 declaring himself a Roman by birth and prejudice, and 
 an antiquary by profession, seemed to consider us as 
 experienced travellers, and to expect much security 
 from a coalition, if not to lean upon us in some degree 
 for protection. He already urges us to go into Switzer- 
 land with him; and as we have almost determined to 
 pass through that country into Germany and Holland, 
 we may probably have his company for a week or 
 more. 
 
 Notwithstanding the unhappj aituation in wbich we 
 leave the people of Turin, and in spite of the uncer- 
 tainty and danger which still hang over the fate of 
 Italy, on the eve of our departure from the country we 
 .take pleasure in leaving our good wishes, and in re- 
 flecting that hope of their welfare is not yet absolutely 
 denied us. We feelmelancholy at the loss of our coun- 
 tryman and late fellow traveller, whom we left at 
 Genoa, as well as at the reflection, that in two days 
 the Alps will have closed behind us, and shut out the 
 sight of Italy for ever ; but while we recall his part- 
 ing words : " I will see you again !" we also feel that 
 we have laid up a rich store of recollections for life — » 
 and who can tell what delightful scenes may be await* 
 ing us on the other side of the Atlantic ? 
 
 THE END. 
 
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